Brigham was up early yesterday morning. Like 5:30 a.m. early. So I brought him to bed with me and put on a show for him to watch while I slept some more tried to wake up. Next thing I know he was puking on the floor and crying out for me because little ones get confused when their tummy brings it all back up. I quickly took him into the bathroom as he continued to vomit. I knew then it would be a rough day. My mother-in-law was there to take care of them. But I’m his mama. It should be me holding him tight when he’s sick, shouldn’t it?

I text my boss and told her I would be late. When really I wished I could say – I won’t be in . . . ever.

It’s days like yesterday that make me resentful. It’s days like yesterday that make me want to throw in the towel and never leave my babies ever. I didn’t want to leave. But I eventually had to make myself.

On the ride to work I was mad. Mad that my mind had to be elsewhere when really it was nowhere else but with Brigham. I started thinking of all the reasons I can’t be a stay at home mom. It is our fault. It is because of some of our stupid decisions that I don’t have the freedom to hold him when he’s sick. I sit there and I wish, I wish, I wish for a different path because this one involves working hard every day of my life. Working away memories that will never be made.

I try not to think this way. I try to remain grateful for where I am in this life. There is a reason for it. But when I think that we are the reason, well, it cuts me open because we could have made different choices. Could’a, should’a, would’a. Those kind of thoughts suck.

Before I left yesterday Brigham held onto me and said, “Stay with me, mama.”

I choked down the lump in my throat and told him I couldn’t. I left him there on the sofa and walked away heartsick and wishing.

photo (12)

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It feels totally weird to have no posts on my blog for more than a week. But I have a good excuse!

On Memorial Day my throat started to hurt when I swallowed. I knew it was a bad sign. On Tuesday morning it was worse and I was feeling feverish so I headed to the minute clinic where they diagnosed me with strep throat AND a sinus infection AND an ear infection! Yikes.

So I got some antibiotics and headed home to rest for the day. I called my boss and told her I would probably be in the next day. I indulged in popsicles and the entire second season of Downton Abbey (pretty much obsessed with this show).

But unfortunately, by the next day I was much worse. Puking and fever and feeling like I was going to die. I fell asleep about every two hours. It’s like my body would do nothing but sleep, which I’m sure it needed. I quarantined myself to the bedroom and did not see the boys. I didn’t want them to catch it!

Long story short I was miserably sick from Tuesday to Friday. On Friday I had the worst migraine headache I’ve ever had. In fact, it lasted for over 24 hours. I was writhing in pain praying for God to let it ease up.

Finally on Saturday I was able to get out of bed. I finally saw my boys after four days! And although I had no appetite I was finally able to stomach some crackers after four days of no food.

Thank God for my husband who held it all together while I was bedridden.

So that explains my absence. Hopefully I won’t experience any setbacks and I’ll have a full recovery soon!

Thanks for hanging in there with me while I get back to the grind.

Open Wide

this is my "if you touch my mouth again I'll kill you" face

I have been to the dentist five times since late March. Stupidly, I hadn’t been for two years even though I had been having pain in one of my molars. By the time I finally went it was discovered that my tooth was cracked and I needed a crown. So I went back time and again and got stuck by needles multiple times on multiple days to fix other cavities and do the crown procedure. Once I had the crown put in (which didn’t fit the first damn time, lucky me) I was told there was a slight chance I might still need a root canal.

I prayed I wouldn’t have to but . . . sure enough the pain over the next two weeks was excruciating. The left side of my mouth was radiating waves of pain and I had to take aleve every six hours or I seriously regretted it. I couldn’t sleep and if I did I would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat feeling like my mouth was falling off my head.

So I went on Tuesday for my root canal. Big surprise? They could not get me numb. So instead of being calm, cool and collected I started to panic about the pain that would be involved in order to get to the root. She said once she got to the root she could finally get me numb because she would be right at the source. But you guys? Getting there was f#@*ing awful. The only saving grace was giving me nitrous oxide so I felt drunk. But that wasn’t until after they got to the root. Talk about pain. I might have cursed in the dentist’s face.

Even with all that trouble, I am SO GLAD I had this done. I feel 1000x better now. The tooth was terribly infected and I guess had been for awhile. I can’t believe how much better I feel. I didn’t realize how much pain I was in until the pain wasn’t there anymore!

I have to go back one.more.time to complete the filling on the crown. Appointment #6, people. All because I waited too long.

So this is a warning to you all. You are supposed to go to the dentist every six months for a check-up and cleaning. My recommendation to you is to get your ass in that chair STAT if you haven’t been. No really. Call right now. I’ll wait.

I made so many excuses. I can’t get a babysitter. I work full-time. The pain is not *that* bad.

I totally regret not going.

If you listen carefully you can hear my mom saying, “I told you so.” It was so much easier when she used to schedule my dental appointments for me.

I hope you learn your lesson from my mistake.

Okay, why are you still here? Go call your dentist.

Sometimes the internet can be ugly

Last week, when I posted my first vlog, I received this anonymous comment:

When I first saw it, I was shocked. I quickly logged into my account and sent it to the trash. I’d like to say that I brushed it off and it didn’t affect me. But I promptly left work, drove to chick-fil-a and inhaled their waffle fries to make me feel better. So I *may* have been a little upset even though I didn’t know who this person was. That’s the world wide web for you. Sometimes the internet itself can be ugly.

I’ve had some time to think about the word ugly. It prompted me to search my blog for photos of me. To find out what exactly it was about me that might be ugly. What did they see that I don’t. But I noticed, there are very few photos of me. I constantly read other blogs with women proudly showing off their beautiful faces.

Some are wearing glasses. Some are sporting a messy bun. Some are tall and some are short.  Some are smiling and some are staring off into space. Some are a reflection in the mirror. Some are round with a growing life inside of them. And some are round because that’s who they are and they aren’t ashamed of showing it off. I love these women. The ones dripping in bravery. The ones embracing their differences and loving themselves.

It took the word ugly being thrown my way for me to realize that I’m not exactly owning what I look like or who I am.

Well,  this is who I am.

I’m Molly
I’m 5′ 4″
I wear glasses most the time
I have light blonde, naturally wavy hair that is often frizzy
I have a mushy tummy because I ate too many donuts while housing two beautiful miracles in my womb
My nose has a bump on it, a trademark of my German heritage
My eyebrows are often overgrown
My fingernails are jagged from my bad nail-biting habit
I have moles on my skin because the sun is not my friend
I like fast food a little too much
My eyes are small and blue like the Greek sea and I am proud to share this exact color with my son Landon
I have wrinkles on my forehead from thinking too much
I am emotional and reactionary and I over-analyze everything.

I don’t think of the word ugly as an adjective anymore. I think ugly is a verb. Something people do. Being mean to someone is an ugly thing to do. Calling people names is being ugly. And doing it on the internet, never owning up to who you are? Well, that’s uglier than all the rest.

I’m Molly. I am not a ten.

But I know I’m not a zero either.

I am somebody. Somebody who is beautiful, inside and out. It’s time I start believing it again and showing off the beauty for everyone to see.

it’s okay

My purse is hung over my shoulder. The sound of pills click clack, click clack as I walk to wherever I’m going. It’s a common sound. I carry certain pills with me always.

pass the tylenol

Excedrin Migraine for the awful migraines I get as a side-effect of my anti-whatevers. Tylenol for the usual aches and pains I feel deep down in my bones every day.

Then there’s the xanax. The xanax I was prescribed by my doctor two years ago. The xanax I carry with me always. The xanax I choose not to take.

I don’t know why I do this. On top of everything else I was diagnosed with a panic disorder long ago. In certain situations I panic and have the fight or flight response. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to but when it does it takes it all out of me. After the panic attack is over I have nothing left.

My psychiatrist looked me in the eyes and told me, “It’s okay to take these, Molly. It’s okay to use them to keep yourself calm when you know you are in danger of having a panic attack.”

He also told me to use them for anticipatory anxiety. Meaning, if I know I will be in a situation that in the past has caused anxiety, it’s okay to take it a few hours before that event will take place.

A good example is when I fly. I hate flying. I know I hate flying. It makes all the difference when I take it two hours before a flight.

It makes so much sense. But still I hesitate.

I don’t know why I listen to it rattle, rattle, rattle in my purse, knowing that it’s there at the ready. It’s there when I need it most.

Somehow it feels like a crutch. I’m 33-years-old. Shouldn’t I be able to handle these things by now? Shouldn’t the medications that I already take make this go away?

But I ignore it. I ignore it until it’s too late.

All that stops. Here and now. Today.

If I’m feeling anxious or know that I have an anxiety-provoking event coming up, I am going to dig around in the bottomless pit of my purse, retrieve that bottle, pop it open and swallow that pill.

I will do so without worry. I will do so without shame.

It’s okay not to be okay.


linking up with just write.