Well, here I am. Colorado. This state has come up in several conversations. The past and possible future. My fears of some sort of voodoo existing over the state that ends relationships- which I’m finding to be a completely foolish thing to believe. I don’t think I’ve ever been as in love with my husband as I am now. I see the way he looks at me and our daughter and how he sacrifices so very much to help us thrive.

Thriving. Now there is the goal. I hope to get up off this growing tush of mine and go outside and thrive. Hikes, long walks, maybe even climbs? I’m remembering that ropes course only a January ago, not the last but the one before. I know I can achieve much for a short time but the consequence has always been a crash later on. And here I am in the middle of another smaller version of a crash. Our introduction and adjustment to Colorado has been interrupted several times by illness. First, a head cold had by my husband, passed along to our daughter, who fared better than any of us with just a runny nose. Then, it was my turn. Then, our daughter got a very bad stomach bug. Two ER visits, two pediatrician visits- phew, it’s been a crazy roller coaster. The most frustrating thing, besides the dwindling energy and bruises that also had me concerned enough to get myself checked out at the ER after waiting until the worry couldn’t be controlled anymore, is the keeping up of our budget. All these unplanned things just drain our plans, and I haven’t even been the one to track the activity in the checkbook since we got here. Instead, I’m online changing passwords and usernames and accounts and addresses because of getting hacked in the middle of the chaos. And that couch. *sigh*

Stress. The enemy sure does know my weaknesses and he’s been doing a full-court press on my heart lately. Divide and conquer- and his version of division has been filling our days with plenty of distractions that a normal, face to face conversation has not happened with my husband without sleep in our eyes or digestion of the chaos for several days. Hardly any dreaming or planning has happened. It was so very refreshing to have a moment here and a moment there of reprieve with the idea of a National park visit somewhere we saw online getting batted back and forth. The rarity still helps me hope we’ll have time to dream again. Is this what happens to most couples? Children or not, I can see how moving chaos just creates distance to any couple. Yet, I don’t feel in the least that our bound is in question. Instead, I just long for him more. I long for his companionship during the day and his random hugs and reassuring words as I work through my newly found chronic conditions.

Damage control. That’s how I feel more often than not- that I’m running around in this one capacity constantly to clean this, fix that, heal this, put that away…put your shoes on…go to sleep, sweetie… tired. I’m so very tired. This season sure is interesting. Yet, I’m trying so hard to move past complaining. I waited so long to have children with my husband and the adjustment from career to child hasn’t been anything I’ve spent much, if any, time meditating on. I was talking to my friend Christin at our favorite theme park that was greatly discounted for California residents and I briefly shared my struggle from chasing after success to “just” being at home. It’s ironic that the busyness that’s motherhood calls for me after nearly every sentence I write. I adore my little girl, however. The adjustment after the chaos has settled is about to begin again.

My biggest feat will be getting up at 6 am each day so I can adjust to getting ready in the morning before the little one awakes and seeks entertainment and food from me. She’s thankfully pretty easy to entertain and usually not a picky eater. The grazing is an interesting thing, however. She will want to eat only a small amount of what I provide even if I offer only small portions. It’s a good habit, though, as I don’t ever want her to feel pressure to clean her plate except when at dinner as company elsewhere and those habits can be built when she’s perhaps twice her age now. Watching cartoons, tea parties, and coloring/painting are her favorite activities making it easy to keep her occupied while I rest, finish a few things on the never-ending adult to-do list, and keep house. It’s amazing how personal hygiene has been the greatest challenge and today it was a success to get up, take my meds, get her breakfast, nibble a bite myself, and dye my roots, then shower, then shave my legs in the bathroom sink. I think I fixed the slow drain while I was at it? The quirks of this apartment are still under investigation. And now I wonder with the crumbs from the fresh bread given to the two-year-old scattered on the new couch and floor if it would make more sense to move the vacuum from the storage off the porch to my side of the closet for easier use. Hardwood floors are so nice but I do hate sweeping and mopping. Clean floors are so very satisfying, though. This coffee tastes like Gram’s. I miss her and I miss all of Maine. Except the wet, cold feet and soggy shoes and damp, white salt marks on jeans, gray, dreary skies…

It’s gray today. It will remain so all day. It is a nice break from the intensity of the sun at over 7,000 feet. It was over 80F yesterday. I didn’t check to be exact, but I was hot. The car that we share is in desperate need of a bath. Inside and out. There is still vomit stains in the back from the road trip here. How in the world did I miss something so disgusting? We already ate nearly all the banana bread in the freezer and the zucchini blueberry lemon bread is gone. I need to bake more. I need to also use up that meat in the fridge from not cooking much these past several days. Is the produce still good? I haven’t made our bed yet and the pillow cases no longer match thanks to the puke-fest that was this last week. I should just change the whole set. When was the last time I cleaned the whole bathroom? My daughter’s stools hurt her bum and she’s doing a dance to avoid pooping right now. I hate that she’s in pain. Where is the Aquaphor? Will I have the theme song of Ruff Ruff, Tweet and Dave in my head all day now? I miss hearing the Paw Patrol theme song. Too bad she’s growing tired of that for now. She just won’t change those pajamas, though. She loves her Paw Patrol jammas and new blanket from Memere and Grampa. I forgot to Facetime them…

I’m supposed to be focusing on my heart right now and digesting this season and embracing my new life as stay-at-home mom, but instead my mind is cluttered. Then, one deep breath, I realize this is exactly what it is. Several tasks running through my mind, what I used to see as distractions now have become my primary contribution to my family. I’ve heard that all those distractions are actually the most important things for moms. That being a mom, the cook, maid, business manager, financial analyst, nurse, Uber (well, not while we have only one car), and all those other roles I hear some moms joke about… that’s my function. To BE for my daughter. Yet, in all the functions, I’m having trouble being present, too. Playmate is hardly a role I’ve adopted. Teacher, perhaps? But not playmate. There’s just so much to do and my energy? What energy?

God, You see me, right? I’m not the first woman to feel helpless in all the tasks and challenges of motherhood. I’m not the first woman to have a good friend whisper, “She will be your best success now” after letting go of a career on purpose. Was it even on purpose for us? This season is so tricky and I long for the simple answers and the black and white that was my life when I was younger. But longing for the past isn’t helping my present or my future. I need You. I keep reading Ecclesiastes over and over again. It’s comforting knowing nothing is new to You when all things are new to me. I can’t fathom fitting in Bible studies or classes into our lives right now. I’m pooped just by taking a shower. Could You help me figure out the chronic fatigue? I need to be present for our baby girl. She needs ME and not just what’s left of me. I’m so thankful she’s getting even the little bit I can give instead of a daycare provider, but I am struggling with wondering if daycare is best since they’d at least be able to BE there for her much more than I can be right now. Perhaps that will come a different season, but I know this is exactly where I need to be right now. Father, I need guidance on how to get well so I can chase, laugh, and play with my little one. Being a bystander is no longer acceptable to me. Please provide a way to find relief from my symptoms and energy to begin thriving. I wish the best life for my daughter and to provide the best I need to be my best. Where do I go to find my health again?

Savoring Silence

It’s rare that I’m up, showered, and unwinding before my day unwinds. My daughter is still in her bed only stirring a little bit. She’s been adjusting quite well to our new home here in the Springs. I’m in my favorite place to unwind with my writing- the kitchen table- sipping a cup of cold coffee and so very thankful my husband brewed enough for two before he left hardly before it was even morning yet. His transfer here to Colorado, although giving us substantial financial relief from San Diego’s East County, has had him sacrificing greatly. He has an hour and ten minute commute to Denver every morning and if the traffic builds up it may take him up to two and a half hours. He’s always been an early-riser, but in his attempt to figure out the best times to leave the apartment in order to beat traffic, and also shift around his hours to accommodate one of my doctor’s appointments, he has gotten very little sleep this week. I’m praying his applications to the local office here in the Springs grabs the attention of the right people and he’ll only have to travel 20-30 minutes.

We sure do miss him during the day, though. Our daughter will ask from time to time for him during the course of the day. I love their bound and it is quite different to not have him sitting in the living room on his computer for 8 hours of the day. I miss the comfort of having his strong arms wrap around me any time things got tough. It is proving to be a healthy transition for me, however. I’m realizing my assumed limitations from before can be stretched quite further and that my resiliency is stronger than it was. Although the fatigue has been intense several days in a row since our drive here, I’ve been able to unpack, clean, prepare meals, play with my daughter, handle all the diapers (when will she be interested in the potty anyways?), and even fit in groceries one evening. That’s far more than I’ve done in the past when I had his help. I also don’t have my closest friend sitting near me to share all my aches and pains with- which I think really is the healthiest part of this transition. I hadn’t realized just how bad my sharing had been until our little one started creating boo-boo’s of her own and near-constantly asked for love and kisses because of them. What a relief to be away from that although not much has changed for me physically. It is incredibly empowering to realize I can do far more and discuss my discomfort far less. My attitude has sky-rocketed and my heart is living in far more gratitude than before. I’m humbled by the road we’ve been on as a family and even more so as I see my husband come home from work only to give his last reserves to his daughter so I can rest.

The views here are nearly panoramic and are even more breathtaking when we drive around town. We have a spectacular view from our kitchen window of Pike’s Peak and it’s currently covered in snow as well as the mountains to the left of it. Before long, I’ll learn what each one is and I cannot wait to visit the Garden of the Gods and Focus on the Family and Seven Falls at the Broadmoor as well as the several other features of the Springs. It seems surreal that we are here. My husband had talked so long about how much of a leg up this area would give us; and it certainly is a perk that his favorite ministry, Ransomed Heart, is located northwest of us. There are buds on trees and it thankfully is another sunny day after three days of mostly clouds and scattered showers. We even got snow a few days ago that melted before mid-afternoon, which was a contrast to the 80-degree days only a few days after arriving. Weather here sure is bipolar! It is also surreal to actually experience all four seasons within a matter of hours in one day after hearing about it for so long.

I woke up a little past 5am due to some strange thunder-like noises next door, or was it outside? I was too warm and comfortable in my bed to get up and look, but I spent the morning while trying to dose back asleep just recalling everything in my life that brought me joy. It’s a new ritual I hope to continue to foster. It all started when my sibling, who’s going through some challenging times right now, asked me on my last visit in their apartment to share some happy memories of our childhood together. It helped bring elusive sleep to them that had been hard to capture for days, perhaps even weeks, at a time. When I got home, I put together index cards of several happy memories we had together. It was through that practice that I realized that I tend to recall all the negative, yet I had quickly filled up the entire stack of cards and had several more flooding my memory. There was a moment of sadness in it, if only for a temporary pause, because I suddenly became aware of just how much happiness I had allowed myself to be robbed of. Since then, I have been on a personal and, until now, private mission to rewrite my memory and resurrect the good in each and every life experience I’ve had so far. This is indeed the essence of what cognitive behavioral therapy has attempted to teach me through reading “Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy” by Dr. David Burns and now rare check in’s with my therapist. Ever since my daughter was born, I’ve been on a mission to break the generational curse of anxiety and depression. It has been my hope that she will never experience the fear and darkness I’ve had to face starting in my teens. I hope that she will be the first generation who never has a period, extended or brief, of such struggles, so I’ve been in some sort of therapy ever since I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. Although I am no longer postpartum, it was that experience that opened my eyes to just how dire depression can get and how essential it would be to transform myself and the life of my daughter.

So, here I am, after a slow start to the morning, as rare as they are, yet so very thankful to even be here to write. My daughter woke up before the end of the first paragraph and she is happily sucking her thumb, wandering about between kitchen and living room, dragging her blanket while watching cartoons. Such has been our tradition in the mornings accompanied with coffee and snuggles. Sometimes I will yield to her requests for more and the cartoons will stay on until lunch. It gives us both some much-needed down time before the active play begins. I recall feeling pressure, especially after completing my teaching certificate, to engage her in preschool-like activities during every waking hour of the day from learning play to sensory bins to nature walks. Now, I’m finally giving myself some grace as I realize that being here and being present is far more important than being a teacher about it. Although the latter is useful, the most critical of experiences for her is to know that mom will always be here for her no matter what. I know that was critical for me growing up as my mom didn’t begin working again until we were all school-aged. It was comforting to know she was always there no matter if she was watching her soaps or preparing lunch for us or snuggling while watching cartoons. It all mattered.

So, as I sit here and recall the early morning hours before my shower (that she slept through!), I am now more aware than ever that training my mind to remember and value and recognize the positive will take intentional silence and effort. It is so very rewarding, though! I’m breathing better (is it less stress because of this self-training or because I’m finally used to the elevation?), and I’m experiencing more gratitude and happiness in each day. Not only that, I’ve developed a greater appreciation for how my parents raised me, especially my mom, and often cannot wait to call her again just to report some of the cute things my own daughter has done throughout the day. Although this season has me missing much of my previous homes, instead I am recalling each moment, each view and scenic road, each friendly face… it all fills my heart and I finally no longer feel trapped by the progression of disease in my body and instead feel free to LIVE. Positive thinking isn’t gospel but it will transform your life in a way that amplifies the truth and enriches your entire experience.