12 am ramblings...

It's 12:30am on a Wednesday, I had way too many Mountain Dews today and I can't sleep.

So here I am…rambling. Oh, and also eating alfredo pasta.

Matt is out of town and it's crazy but even though I am surrounded by children, I have never felt more alone.

I want to be the kind of person that can sit comfortably alone with my own thoughts. I can't. Or I don't want to. I'm definitely not comfortable being alone with myself. I want to change this!

Over the past few weeks, my mama has been heavy on my mind. I was sitting at a sculpture park last week and a teenage boy and two adults walked by with heavy camera gear. I stopped and stared (because I'm a nosy creature) and it turns out they were shooting the teenage boy's senior pictures.
It flashed me back to when my senior pictures were shot- my mom was there, of course! She helped me pick out clothes, did my makeup and my hair and told me again and again how beautiful I was while simultaneously cracking jokes so I would smile. I had completely forgotten those moments, hadn't thought of them since she died, until that very second I saw this group at the sculpture park.

With the memories, comes the grief. Oh, fuck does it hurt! 13 years later and I still want her back. I was robbed, plain and simple and it fucking sucks.

I want her to know my kids. They don't know it but I sure feel a void missing from their and MY lives! She would have been a fantastic grandmother! I wonder what they would have called her. I know she wouldn't have missed a beat with my bonus kiddos- that she would have accepted and loved them as her own. I know this because that is what she did with my little sister (her dad married my mom). She made things special for my sister, Brittany. She remembered little details. She made people feel at ease, knew how to make them smile.

I find that when I do things lately, I do things to make my mama proud. Today, for instance I was quite productive. Cleaned out my disgusting fridge, swept the floor, cleaned the kitchen, made a billion phone calls to get Mason cleared to resume normal activity at school and swimming ( he sustained a concussion when he fell at school 2 weeks ago), went grocery shopping, mailed a package, made dinner, did the bedtime routine, and made sure at the end of it all, my kids heard, "I love you" one last time before they closed their eyes to dream.

I know she would have been proud of me today- for making the time to read with my children when all I wanted to do was crawl in bed, for getting the grocery shopping done early so I didn't have to take 3 kids with me ( yay for all day school for all 5 kids!) and so when they ARE home, I can spend that time with them. It's the little things I do that carry on what she gave me- which is how to be an amazing mother, just like her. As much as it fucking sucks, I guess that's what it is all about- carrying on her legacy.

My belly is full, my brain is tired, and it's time for bed. Don't worry, I have many more memories to share. It's good to be back.

Let's catch up, why don't we?!

Well, they are off!

We have a 1st grader, 2nd grader, 5th grader, one starting middle school and one starting high school. 

                                                       My baby boys and I  on their first day

How are we here already?! 

I struggled with my depression and anxiety a lot this summer. I suppose I have some guilt about the fact that we didn't do as much as I would have liked, due to these struggles. It's pretty hard to get kids ready and all the stuff you need to leave the house when you are trying to focus on not having a panic attack and breathing. 

I get frustrated that this is my struggle. I get tired of taking pills everyday. I get tired of having to explain to those I love why I am (at times) not able to go places, get certain things done, be all that I want to be. 

My anxiety reached a head about 10 weeks ago, the same time that things were hard-hard-hard in my marriage. We are working on it. It's a constant work in progress. Marriage is not for the faint of heart. 

I am taking positive steps though!!! 

1. I started taking one of my anxiety meds, Buspar during the day too, instead of just at night. 

2. I took a 20 min walk yesterday and will be doing that daily. 

3. I made an appointment with a counselor for my mental health issues and personal barriers I need help overcoming. 

4. I have gained a significant amount of weight on top of the weight I already needed to lose, due to my medications and bad choices.  I have started the process of having a weight loss surgery done and have my first appointment with a bariatric surgeon coming up in September. 

I'm proud of myself for the steps I have taken. I am going to start using this blog again- if only for a place to clear my head and just write. It's truly cathartic. 

Tell me about your life Tuesday!

I have been battling with headaches for the past few days. I have another one right now and typing is distracting me from the pain.

"Ow, ow, fuckity ow"
(the one who knows what movie this is from is my is my new best friend)


I had an interview at Starbucks yesterday to be a barista. I was very nervous! I stumbled over my words a couple times but other than that, I think I did pretty well. I find out if I am hired by tomorrow. I need something to get me out of my house, and make some money. Sugar Mama right here. ;)

There are only 6 months left until my Theo is in full day kindergarten. I am really trying to cherish time with just the two of us at home-it is going to be so quiet come August. I plan to be either working or going to school or both once there are no little people under my care during the day. I have to say I am pretty excited about this new stage of life too!

I am eating a delicious pear,  drinking my almond milk with a little bit of coffee and brown sugar (try it, it's UH-MAAZING!), and thinking just how lucky I am to have this life I do.


!! It's Tuesday. Tell me about YOUR life !!

a 'nuggly Monday.

I head upstairs with my sweet four year old boy, Theo, for his nap.

He lays his head down, then sits right back up.

"Mama- let's 'nuggle."

Dishes wait for me. Laundry needs to be done. The house could use a thorough vacuuming.

Instead, I 'nuggle.

And it's worth a dirty house. So worth it. 

So incredibly worth feeling my son slowly fall asleep while my arms comfort him.

And with those moments of closeness with my baby boy, I no longer have a case of the Mondays.

Monday is beautiful today. 

therapy is therapeutic. imagine that.

Confession: I am seeing a therapist and I love her!! 

I have long been told by my doctor that a counselor of some sort can be super beneficial to those with bipolar disorder. 

And I have not listened for a long time. 

Then I started to just feel really unhappy. Unfulfilled. I needed some direction in my life. My heart was yearning for change and growth. 

A friend recommended her therapist to me. We are working on so much: 

my self esteem

learning how to communicate more effectively

letting go of bad habits

the psychological reasons behind my emotional eating and eating issues

being kind and compassionate to myself

meditating and grounding myself- such a cool concept that helps the manic Nicole focus.

For the first time in a long while, I feel hopeful for the future. 

(A lot of this also has to do with FINALLY working with my doctors (yes, plural)  on a regular basis to adjust, experiment, and figure out the right combo of medications that will work for me. 

I am in a really good place, and learning to accept me for who I am- the good and the "bad".

boys and chaos and trashed house, oh my!

                                         We are on Day 4 of Spring Break in this here house.

Yep. That pretty much sums things up.

I hate March.

The 27th of March is an odd place for me. 

My mother's birthday falls on the 26th of March and she left this world on the 28th of March. This year, I decided we needed to celebrate her birthday. I had some drinks, like I would have done with her. I planned to make cupcakes, but too late in the day, I realized I didn't have everything in the cupboards and fridge I needed for a cupcake endeavor. Despite that, I felt genuine happiness yesterday in thinking of her on the day that brought her spirit into this world.

In years past, this month of March has brought with it pain. Before my brain even realizes it's March, my spirit knows. It remembers the hard, HARD moments of the year 2002. It plays over and over the scenes of her life ending. This brings me so much sadness and in my brain, March is also known as The Month Of Tears.

This year, it is as if the tears are stopped up. I want to cry, to feel that release and yet, I had not been able to. As Matt and I were getting ready to go to bed, I suddenly  began to cry as if my life depended on it. My heart certainly did. All of the emotions of the day suddenly flooded out their release. It felt good to cry. It also felt really good to say goodbye to yesterday.

Then came the 27th.

The 27th is the day my mama was admitted into the Hospice Unit of the hospital, and the day we said our last goodbyes, as my mother was put into a medication induced coma. My family and I were told that it would not be long before she passed away, and yet she kept fighting. This day represents a day of waiting between life (her birthday) and the next day, when she lost her fight with lung cancer.

I have told myself over and over that these few days are just that-days. I tell that to my heart and yet it does not believe me. The pain is fresh in this week, every year.

I miss her scrambled egg breakfast creations.

I miss the way she threw her entire head back when she laughed.

I miss the relationship I had with her- the way she loved me, the way she knew me.

I miss being able to talk to her about anything and never feeling judged.

I miss things I never knew I would miss at the time:
her smell
watching her mother myself and my brother
how she always inspired me to be a better version of myself


This day is the in-between of it all, and it sucks.
I ache to share my present life with her.
I remember her- what she taught me, what she showed me, how she loved me.
That is how I get through.
Still, I hate March.