I'm a mom! Again!

Ahh yes, babies. I have three of them now. I'm here to record the events of the birth of my third baby. Because it's just one of those things that people want to know about, and I'd like to remember the small details later on as well.

We'll start here... I had been telling people for weeks that this baby wasn't going to be born on time. I predicted that baby would be born after my due date, and that baby's descent earthside would take 60 hours, just like his two sister's births had.

So last Tuesday night, when I went to bed, I didn't think much of the contractions that suddenly started happening. They started off really powerful... I actually did raise an eyebrow at how completely encompassing and overruling they seemed to be... I attempted to time a few of them, but I kept coming up with numbers like ten minutes apart, 25 minutes apart, 7 minutes apart.. so I was consistently having contractions inconsistently. Great. And big yawn. For a few minutes I considered staying up all night, to continue the tradition of laboring on my own during the night... I did it twice with the girls, and stayed up two nights in a row for that, because it was too uncomfortable to lay down. But this time, I decided that I was gonna give these contractions the stink eye, and try to sleep through them. Well, I didn't sleep through them, no, not at all. With each one, I woke up, and could feel the contraction rising in intensity, meeting its peak, and then could clearly feel its decrescendo as the tightening subsided and my body felt "normal" again. I suppose that's when the insanity set in.. I was so convinced that I might actually be pregnant forever, I really thought those contractions were probably doing nothing. I figured I might be 2 cm dilated in the morning, but that was it.

The next morning, one day before my due date, I was still having contractions, but they were easier and less noticeable because I was up and moving around. I fed the kids breakfast and did find myself pausing for some of those contractions. I was starting to get uncomfortable. Well, one thing that always slowed my labor down was to take a shower, so at some point around noon, I showered. And then experienced multiple contractions back to back in the shower. Holy cow, they took my breath away. It was humbling to feel my body do this to me.. haha. At some point, when I was getting dressed, I had another contraction that was so powerful, I felt myself pushing. I stopped to think for a second.. pushing?? Wait... did I just feel myself pushing? I decided I was making things up in my head. And then quickly changed my mind as I decided to finish packing my hospital bag. I found myself throwing things in haphazardly and thinking I didn't really care if I forgot anything.. crap, I think I'm in labor now.

Climbing up the basement stairs was a terrible idea... that gave me more contractions.. oh man, they were really revved up by that point, and with each one, I felt my body pushing.

So it was quickly decided that the girls would stay home with Papa (grandpa) and I called his mom to see if she could take me to the midwife's office to let them have a looksy at things down yonder, in case I was still making this up in my head. But she didn't answer, so I called a co-worker, Camille and asked for a ride. She quickly agreed and said she'd be by soon. While waiting for her, things picked up even more and I was pushing even harder. I figured it'd be pointless to go to the midwife office at this point, and frantically texted her that she needed to just take me to the hospital. I urged her to hurry. I was feeling a little desperate.

Cami and her carriage arrived and I hauled butt out the front door with my bag and coat and shoes in hand, because i couldn't even bend down at that point to put my shoes on. I stopped at the top of the driveway to have a massive contraction and I think it was right then that Cami realized I was in some serious labor. She took my things and I climbed into the front seat. She asked me why I hadn't called her earlier, if things were moving so fast. And I just shook my head and said I don't know. I told her I didn't think things were moving that fast until I felt like pushing. And then I apologized saying I'd try not to have the baby in her car.... she's so sweet, she just told me that if I did then, oh well. I would have been freaking out had it been MY car.. I mean, sure I feed my kids crackers in the backseat, but who wants to clean up amniotic fluid out of the upholstery? Lol

I never did feel so happy to see that hospital. Cami stopped the car and ran out and got me a wheelchair, because I couldn't walk anymore. The contractions were so strong, I probably would have had the baby from walking. So I sat in a wheelchair for a few minutes in front of the E.R. reception desk. They called Labor and Delivery for me, and while I waited for the nurses to come get me, I was grunting and groaning and moaning and breathing like.. like a woman in labor. Because I was. The receptionist's eyes were as big as moonpies. She told me sternly, her voice dripping with fear, "DON'T push! BREATHE!" I picked up my head just enough to glare at her, and give her the most sarcastic look ever and said, "I'm TRYING not to, I CAN'T help that I'm pushing!" So then of course, she told me again to not push, and I just shook my head. DUHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Two nurses were sent down. As I was being wheeled to L&D, I remember looking down at my feet, which were positioned all funny because I couldn't sit up in the chair and was mostly leaning on the armrests. I was wearing really clean socks. And they actually matched, which impressed me. I vaguely remember thinking these were probably my last moments being pregnant.. which both excited and terrified me. I saw the familiar pictures and decorations on the walls of the hallway we were going down. Only weeks before I had walked this hallway with Paul for our classes...it was nice to think about that for a second.

I was wheeled to my room and told that I could change into a gown so they could check me. They also wanted me to leave a urine sample. I actually left them one. Which is amazing, because my belly felt so big, but by golly, I peed in their stupid little cup. Before I retired to the hospital bed, I actually looked at myself in the mirror. And ran my hands over my belly, over my gown. And leaned forward to fix my hair. That was the last time I saw myself pregnant. And then I doubled over with a contraction and hauled butt out of the bathroom.

So onto the bed I went, and the nurses hooked me up with an i.v. in my hand and started to strap the fetal monitor across my belly. I was kind of offended. I didn't want constant fetal monitoring and I told them so, but they said I had to have it. And in my brain I thought, I HAD to? Seriously? And then just watched myself as I let them leave it on me. And then I decided I didn't care. I was having such strong contractions, I couldn't walk, much less walk around the room to labor, so whatever. I was in bed, so I let that go.

The nurse got up in all my business and announced to everyone but me, "she's at a 7/8." I did a mental jaw drop. And then a mental high five (to myself, THAT'S right) because for a split nano-second, I was whisked away to Oahu to when I arrived at the Army hospital in labor with my first baby, and I was 7 cm dilated when I got there too. And then my brain whisked back to reality. Dangit. But way cool! Almost done!

In came the midwife. Yes! I got the smiley, super happy midwife, Patti! Sometimes she was so smiley at my appointments with her, I felt like I could punch her. I'd be in the office all tired and anemic and yelling at the kids to stop getting into stuff and feeling overwhelmed, and then she'd come in smiling from ear to ear and would ask how I was doing and have a really nice conversation with me. I like her a lot, and right then decided that it was perfect that she was on call for this. She checked me and said I was an 8/9 and that once my water broke, I'd be having the baby! I think I panicked. The pain was almost unbearable. This was all happening really fast. My mind thought for a second that maybe I did want an epidural, but quickly dismissed the idea since I had such a bad experience last time. But my gosh, I needed something.. I couldn't just DO this, do this with nothing. Cami was explaining to the nurses that I wanted to do this med-free, which yes, mostly, I did want to, but told the nurses that yes, I would like something, even a little something to take the edge off. They hooked me up. Oh yes they did, but apparently it wasn't much... just some i.v. drug that did absolutely nothing for the pain. I felt my head start to float a little, but everything still felt very real.. but I think psychologically, it helped. Helped me feel a little more in control.

The time was pretty much at hand.. I had been asking where Paul was.. he was rushing to the hospital as fast as he could. Cami was holding my hand and offering me ice, and I rejected her silly ice chips because they weren't ice chips, they were ice cubes. You don't give laboring women ice cubes. It's just not done.

Those contractions were no joke. And it ain't called labor for no reason. With a might push, I felt my body squeeze so hard, my water broke. Ewwww. That felt really weird and it actually hurt. No time at all passed and here came baby... I could feel a head coming out. My whole body was into this, except my mind just flailed... anything, ANYthing but this.. I can't do it.. sometime during this, Paul ran in. I knew he was there, mentally, this was comforting to me. I couldn't dwell on it for too long because with another mighty heave, head was all the way out. I remember breathing a sigh of relief.. and midwife said "okay, now for the shoulders!" I must have issues because I forgot I'd have to push those out too. I'm pretty sure I just said "awww MAAAAN!" when I heard that I wasn't done. Grrr, push.. heave ho... and ta-da, baby was out! I know I pushed three times, nurses told me I pushed once. Whaaaaatever dude. Apparently Paul said what kind of baby it was, and then Cami announced it loudly, but I didn't hear either of them.. Patti held the baby up and I'll be honest.. first thing I saw was what was between his tiny legs, and then I saw his face... he looked like Juliette but... a boy! I have a boy! I was amazed. I felt so much all at once. Relief he was out, joy that he was a he.. just felt so much. He was handed to me and it felt awesome to finally be able to feel him on the outside of my body. He felt familiar to me already. We were meeting for the first time and yet, not. It was more of a "good to see you again" feeling. Happy sigh.

And then there's all the yucky details of afterwards, like when Patti decided to show me my placenta, and explain parts of it to me, and then her trying to get me to push out the rest of the amniotic sac... telling me to push, push WHAT? There was nothing solid to push... I'm not squeamish or anything, and really, it was kinda fascinating but... necessary? Really? I guess I just wanted to be done.

So his name is Hunter, and has two middle names, the first name of both of his grandpas. One who loves him very much here in person and one who loves him very much from out of state. Both are good men, good fathers, and people I would very much like for him to be something like when he gets older.

Hunter, 7 lbs 4 oz, 20 in long
March 6th, 2013

Also want to add, It's kind of a good thing I had a boy because girl names were really hard to come by and I honestly wasn't truly satisfied with any of the ones that came up. Hunter's name had kind of been in the making since I was pregnant with Ava. I do know that I decided that if I had another girl, I would figure out her name at the hospital, and would take my nurses names into consideration if I really couldn't make up my mind. Well, again, good thing he was a he... the nurses names were Jennifer and Stephanie. That's my name and my only sister's name. Although, naming my baby after my sister isn't an awful idea, I just didn't want to confuse myself. Besides, one of my kids has her initials anyway.. totally done on purpose, by the way.

Oh, and just to give you the time frame with how all of this ended up happening, from start to finish, I was in labor for 16 hours. And from the time I got to the hospital to the time I had Hunter, 20 minutes had passed. When I told the people at work that I planned on going to the hospital when it came time to push, I was KIDDING. Didn't expect that to actually happen!

And so now I have my three kids. It's as simple and complicated as that. Hunter is a beautiful boy. From the top of his little noggin, down to the tips of his long toes, to the edge of his glowing spirit and gentle personality. He has tiny swirls of hair on parts of his head. And his hair isn't light blonde like the girl's, it's a little darker. And his complexion isn't really fair like me and the girls, it's a little bit darker too. I think this kid is going to be able to tan. His skin is so soft and clear and dewy, and his button nose is so cute. The look of wonder on his face when he's awake is adorable. He loves to cuddle, and is so mild, it doesn't take much to make him happy. As long as his physical and emotional needs are taken care of, he's golden. He does like to sleep all day and party all night for the most part, but I don't know if maybe I'm just accepting of the fact that I won't sleep until I'm dead, or I really am catching on to this mom thing, but.. I can still function. And I sleep when I can.. like when I'm on the toilet or whilst driving. (juuuuust kidding..)

6 days old

But anyway, that's the birth story in it's entirety, as far as I can remember, anyway I will say that it feels GOOD to not be pregnant anymore. There's a small part of me that will always miss rubbing my big pregnant tummy full of life... as uncomfortable and unpleasant as pregnancy tends to be...but despite the discomforts, I will forever be grateful that I got to be the vessel in which all three of my kids made their appearance into this world. And I can totally forever hang that over their heads...

"why? WHY?? Because I gave BIRTH to you, THAT'S why!"

Finally, an update

Updating this blog.

I have been putting this off for several months. Months and months and months and forever and an eternity, it feels like. So much has gone on since I last posted.

I last left off with Pennsylvania. My last hurrah before coming back to Colorado and making peace with my reality. I lost my apartment due to a few reasons.. no child support, no job (not in time anyway), and Fort Collins does tend to be a bit more expensive than neighboring Loveland... anyway, my (technically ex) in-laws were kind enough to open their home to my kids and I and are currently providing a roof over our heads. It's taken some time but the basement is now to a point where it does feel comfortable and a bit more homey, even though sometimes it's a huge mess. I miss having our own place, I miss some of our things, but for now, this is okay and I am content with this. It works.

So a lot has happened in the last seven months since I last posted. I am generally pretty open about things but this just rocked my world so much, completely changed the course of what I thought I was doing, that I felt as if I had been holding my breath all these months, scared of how people will feel, scared of what would be said to me.. I hate disapproval.. and believe me, I've come down really hard on myself about this and I suppose I have a good explanation, even though it doesn't really excuse me OR my ex husband..

Late surprise, I'm pregnant again. I'm currently 36 and a half weeks pregnant. I'm officially in third trimester. And because you want to know, yes, Morgan (ex husband) is the dad. I will admit, the divorce was hard on both of us. It's hard to let go of someone you were with for so long, hard to let go of the dream of your marriage working, things always getting better... Well, back in June, Morgan and I had a run in, and while I was visiting my friend Laurel and her kids in Pennsylvania, I discovered that I was indeed pregnant.

I will be FOREVER grateful to Laurel, for being my rock during that time. I cried and felt the weight of the world on me. She hugged me. She encouraged me. She talked me through things. She was excited for me. She just supported me so much and I am so glad that she's the one I got to share that experience with. It almost felt like she was physically picking up the pieces of my shattered sanity, and gluing them back together for me, despite her own challenges and difficulties in life.

So. Three kids. I'm going to have THREE kids now. At first, I felt like I didn't want to do this again. Juliette wasn't even 9 months old yet when I found out. What was I thinking? WHY did I have to tempt fate like this? WHY did I have to sell myself short, disrespect myself? I was afraid to tell Morgan. I was afraid to tell anyone. It felt safe to just keep it to myself. Laurel knew, and that was good enough. But pregnancy tends to reveal itself eventually. The first trimester was really hard.. I got sick, just like normal. I was busy trying to move out of my apartment and into my in-law's house, and I was just still trying to come to terms with the pregnancy. I couldn't even bring myself to talk about it to anyone.

Naturally, I feel like some people would want to know if this means Morgan and I are getting back together but no, we're not. I'd give the details as to WHY he and I even got together in the first place, but that would probably not be appropriate for this blog, and it kind of hurts to even think or talk about it because of the incredibly selfish reasons behind it.. but no, we're not getting back together. We've been divorced for over an entire year now and I can say with certainty that it is indeed over. The feelings behind that might be for another blog post. Onward with this one though.

I also had the task of trying to find a job and work to bring in some money to support me and my kids. I was job hunting through all of that as well and that was just hard. Trying to fit into my dress pants and shirts for interviews was challenging. I didn't look pregnant from the outside, but I sure felt like it on the inside. Hooray for bloating, right?

Well, a job finally came through for me... Kmart! Ta-da. Back in 2008 I swore up and down I would NEVER go back to retail. Welp, I still don't have a college degree and good paying jobs seem to be hard to come by these days, so I "lowered my standards" as I like to say, and found the job I am currently at. I make a little above minimum wage so it could be worse, and overall I am grateful that I have a job. Being able to afford some Christmas presents, car insurance, diapers, and general necessities makes it definitely worth it.

Okay, so, I suppose I'll fast forward you from when I found out I was pregnant to where the kids and I are at now.

Ava's three and a half (will be 4 in May) and going to preschool and doing really, really well! Her vocabulary is expanding, she's just grown so much as a person, it's hard to not be amazed. She is an awesome big sister to Juliette. She has long, beautiful blonde hair and can be so difficult at times. But I have a feeling it's not easy being her either. She does amazing for being in her situation. I love her so much and look forward to seeing her grow up even more.

Juliette is 16 months old. She's still a baby in so many ways, so needy, so high-needs, but just tonight, I asked her if she could put her dirty shirt in the hamper and she did just that! She can also put things into the trash AND shut the door after she does it (trash is in a pantry cupboard). I know she understands so much of what I say, but she is taking her time with her words. She can say mama, papa ( which means "grandpa" who we live with) (who by the way is her ABSOLUTE favorite person in the WORLD), ga ga (might mean cat? she says it a lot around the cats..) and I think she's said Ava a few times (sounds more like Aba). But I know she'll talk when she wants to. She walked when she wanted to. Yeah, at nine and a half months old that girl was walking. At ten months she was RUNNING. Poor mom, right? Yes, feel sorry for me. Lol.

I'm doing pretty well. I was denied financial aid for Fall 2012 semester and was very disappointed because I wanted to get some more school done before I have the baby in March. But I am learning that life is NEVER what you plan on it being. I will go back to school in the summer and continue going until I get my degree. If ever there was a time to have a college degree, now is definitely the time. So I will get it done. I have to now.

My official due date is March 7th. Like I said, I'm 36 weeks along. I had my ultrasound a few months ago and baby looked great. Here's the "kicker" because I'm sure you'll all want to kick me for this but, I decided to not find out the sex of the baby. With Ava and Juliette I really couldn't wait to find out but for some reason, this time, I decided to not find out. It was a surprise pregnancy, so why not make it a surprise to the very end.  I'm definitely set if the baby's a girl, but if I have a boy, I might not be quite as prepared. But whatever. Flying by the seat of my pants is how I seem to get anything done nowadays anyway, so I'm sure it'll work out.

I'll go ahead and post some pictures and let all of this soak in for you all. I do want to thank those who I have already told about the new baby.. I have received nothing but love and support and I can't emphasize enough how much that has lifted my spirits and given me hope.

Anyway, there you have it. I'll try to update more often. I just have really struggled these last six months, but the kids and I continue to trek onward and hopefully I can start updating more often and stop being such a chicken.

Here's Merrill baby #3 about 10 weeks along 

24 weeks 6 days along, baby's profile

The ultrasound tech asked if I wanted a 3d image.. of course I did! I love being able to see his or her little face :)

Feet

I took me and the kids to do some family pictures when I was about 27 weeks pregnant the beginning of December 2012. So that would put Ava 3 and a half, and Juliette at 1 year, 2 months.

This is actually Ava's preschool picture 

This is me today... 36 weeks 4 days pregnant

Ava wondering why I'm hugging her baby doll.. lol

Pennsylvania

So here I sit in the midst of a very humid summer in Pennsylvania. I am visiting a very dear friend of mine and brought my kids with me. My original plan was to stay a week but we are working on my second week here, with one more week planned out here. My friend and I have had so much catching up to do and missed each other so much that one week simply wasn't enough.

This is my first visit to the east coast and it is definitely different from any other place I've been. I grew up on the west coast, lived in the mid west and even on a tropical island, but had never been east of Missouri until recently. I like it back here. It's very green and there's a huge diversity of people. The roads are confusing as all heck because none of them are straight, except maybe some of the inner city roads.

My kids have been having a blast playing with my friend's kids. The three year olds fight pretty often, the five year old gets them into stuff that the three year olds could usually only dream of getting into, and the baby crawls all around the house eating things she finds on the floor. It definitely feels like summer vacation.

Stuff

It's been a while since I posted so I figure it's time for an update on the kids and I. Due to my job situation being in the gutter, at the end of July, I will be moving in with my (ex) in laws. They were kind enough to offer refuge for my kids and I and I didn't think we would need it, but I'm a little desperate this point, so their help is much appreciated. I am sad about giving up the independence of my own home. I'll be sad to not have my own little kitchen or living space, but this is indeed temporary. I think the lack of my independence will be really great motivation to get back to that. If I had a job I could probably swing living on my own with the kids but interview after interview is passing by and still no offer for employment. 

I am happy to say that I finally figured out what I want to do in school. Yes, I am 25 years old and still don't have a degree. I'm actually embarrassed about that. But I am determined to get one, so it won't be long. I am going to do one more semester at my current community college and then transfer to the same school, just a different campus that offers the Medical Administrative Assisting degree I want. It's an Associate's Degree so hopefully I will be able to finish as fast as possible. Having this degree would allow me to get a job that I can support my family on. I'm tired of being on government assistance and really want to provide 100% for my family.  This degree will help me achieve that. Plus, I will be able to maintain a reasonable work schedule such as weekends, evenings, and holidays off so I can still be a good mom to my kids. 

So I am going to swallow my pride and live in close quarters with my kids in a basement for an undetermined amount of time. I have spent most of the last few months searching for a job and not much else is going on. I feel like this is a really boring post but really, not much is going on!  I have an upcoming trip back east and I think THAT post will be all mind-blowing and awesome. So in the meantime, enjoy some pictures of my offspring.

I guess I'm full of lies. There IS one thing going on with bed bugs and me being paranoid and freaked out and how tomorrow they are going to heat treat my whole apartment (heat the apartment up to 140 degrees) and I have been given a 100% guarantee that this will rid my house of the pests. I have been getting bit for 6 months and can't wait to sleep in my bed and not wake up covered in hives. Ugh. Gross. 

On another unrelated note, Juliette is trying to walk. She is about 8 and a half months old and I was watching tv one night and looked over just in time to see her take three steps. My jaw about hit the floor. Kids WALK this early!? Since then, she has been trying to walk and can walk quite well if you hold her hands. I'm so not ready for her to be walking yet. But I am predicting that by about 9 or 10 months, she's gonna be walking all on her own. Poor mom, right? 

Finding Peace as a Single Parent

Being a single mother can be so daunting. It can be so discouraging, so frightening, so angering, so utterly impossible at times that I just feel like locking myself in my room and pulling the covers over my head. Never before in my life have I felt more tried for my patience or capacity to go on with so few hours of sleep. I have a feeling I'm still at the beginning of my journey as far as being a divorced, single mother, but I have learned a few things here and there that I do feel some pride for, one of those being that:

Being alone isn't always a bad thing.

I promise you more than anything that I loved being married. Being alone while dealing with the devastation of my hopes and expectations being crushed has been really hard. At first I coped. I had to. I got out of bed because I had to take care of the kids. I did the laundry because I had to. I changed diapers because I had to. And then I'd go to bed at night and feel very alone and pray that sleep come quickly because I didn't even want to think about the fact that I was alone in a very large queen sized bed. Still sleeping on "my" side of the bed. 

As the months have passed though, things have become easier. I kind of have a routine with the kids. I'm used to doing things alone now. And it's not necessarily a bad thing. I'll be honest, I was really bitter about it at first, having to lug an infant carrier, a full diaper bag, a toddler, and groceries upstairs all by myself. But now, I kind of have a method to the madness and I think I'm a better person for it. Being independent isn't a bad thing.

As far as sleeping alone goes, now...........I kind of love it. Yeah there's nights when I feel totally sorry for myself and my feet are freezing and I have no one to put them on, but for the most part, now I can sprawl. I can stretch out, have the blankets how I want, leave the half-folded laundry on the bed because I only sleep on one half it it-whatever. I can stick my feet out of the bottom of the covers and no one complains. Plus I'm not woken by snoring, sleep-talking, coughing, farting, or anything else for that matter. That is, unless  it's coming from the baby who still sleeps in my room in her pack-and-play. But yeah. It's kind of a cool thing not to share. 

Being alone has given me the freedom to explore new things about myself. I have found new music, tv shows, and movies that have absolutely no connection to my ex-husband. I used to just kind of listen to everything he did, took all of his movie recommendations, etc... I was like a puppy who would just follow you around. But now, I have been able to get back to what I used to do as a teenager and rediscover things I love, and I don't have to listen to anyone complain about it. It's also REALLY great being able to prevent any questionable material from entering my home. That, I love. 

The quiet; when it's late at night like it is now, and both kids are for once, actually peacefully sleeping in their beds, I can do things like read scriptures, clean, watch MY tv shows (Ava has run of the tv during the day), listen to music, exercise (in the house at least), talk on the phone or whatever. Long gone are the days of asking my ex-husband to please turn down his music, put on headphones, etc. If I want the house quiet, I can have it that way (at night anyway.) If I want things feeling lively, I'll liven it up a bit with whatever music my mood desires. It's helping me feel more like "me." And I love it. 

Being alone has helped me laugh more, and sometimes more at myself. I'm not sure if it's because I already feel like my life has gone to hell in a handbag and things can't really get any worse (okay, so I know realistically, they could..) but I suppose now that I know it's JUST me, I find myself laughing at things that *I* find funny. I think my sense of humor was rooted for so long in this other person, that.........I kind of lost my identity in a lot of ways. And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.. I think that married people should be as close to one another as possible, and that could even include sharing the same sense of humor, or at least a close appreciation of humorous things. Well, for a few months after my separation and probably almost up to the time my divorce was final, I was having a hard time laughing. There were many times I felt little or no joy because I couldn't just let loose and laugh. Well, thankfully, that has changed. I am able to enjoy the small things now and laugh as much as I'd like. This is a secret (well not anymore!), but one of my favorite things to do if I'm going to stay up late and do pointless things on the Internet, is to find hilarious pictures, jokes, whatever, and laugh hysterically at them. There is some kind of internal satisfaction in being able to laugh, despite the injustice I feel regarding my situation. I feel like I am conquering my situation and saying "despite my hardships, I can still smile, laugh, and feel a sense of freedom." I am thankful for laughter. It does have healing properties.

Being alone is helping me pinpoint my goals. It's possible that if I can't attain adequate employment soon in the next few months, my kids and I will move in with their grandparents (who have so graciously offered us refuge if our situation turns dire). I am not yet financially independent.. I still rely heavily on child support to raise my family, but I am set and determined to one day be able to use that money to take my kids out shopping, take them to dinner, buy them new clothes, or pay to get their ears pieced-whatever; basically whatever they WANT, not need, like what that money is being used for right now. So the point is, I know my goals and am working to accomplish them. 

Being alone is really helping me re-evaluate my life. It's kind of hard to sum up in a paragraph, but since being divorced, I have realized that the important things in my life are REALLY important. I have been able to work on some personal goals and am in the process of accomplishing them. I am really proud of myself for this. What was once a pipe dream in a thousand journal entries for the last 6 years, will now actually become a reality for me in the next few months. 

Being alone has sparked interest anew in my old hobbies, loves, and interests. If and when I ever have the time, I'm getting back into music. I once LOVED playing clarinet, and I get my old high school clarinet out every once in a while and play. I want to join a concert band or something eventually just to be able to play, and enjoy doing that again. I've also been considering giving sewing another try. I don't have a sewing machine but one day, I think I'm going to get one. I don't want to do anything extravagant; just be able to repair clothes, etc. I am thankful that I am able to once again think more about MY hobbies and interests. 

Anyway, I think I'm going to stop here. There's a lot I could write about being a single parent... maybe more for another time. But before I go, this is the part where I give credence to Heavenly Father for allowing me to learn through this personal process. I don't feel like the things that happen in my life and to me and my kids are for no reason. There is a lesson to be learned in everything, even if it's just the experience. I can't say that I'm glad I'm divorced because no, I'm not. But I can say that I'm glad that I am a stronger person now because I'm divorced. I have more sympathy for people in my situation. I have more sympathy for people with any kind of intense, personal pain. 

I know I have many years more of a daunting task ahead of me in learning and growing and raising my kids on my own, but I've already been given some tools to help me along the way. I am thankful to say that I feel like I'm ready to take on that challenge. Even if I'm going to complain the enTIRE way. :-)

Love, 

Stephanie 

I think I just found a new pastime.

As if I need another way to waste my time, I stumbled upon a picture editing program on my computer that I had forgotten I installed some time back. It's called Picasa and it's a free Google program. It makes it so I can do things like this:

Awesome, huh?

fun.

Tuesday was an awesome day. No, it wasn't awesome because I had school, (although my Philosophy class was interesting-we discussed "free will" and if everyone really has it..) anyway, I was super excited because  I was going to a concert!

My friend Stacey informed me a few months ago that a group called Fun. (yes, with a period) was going to be performing in Fort Collins and that we should buy tickets and go! This was right before my school money came in and I was pretty broke at that point. I checked my account and I had $30 left. tickets were $15 and about $20 after taxes and fees. I told her I would just wait until I could afford it but a few minutes later, decided that I didn't want to wait; I love this group and have wanted to see them for a lot time and wasn't sure if they'd be sold out if I waited. So I purchased my ticket. And then posted a picture on Facebook.

Here I am, ecstatic about my printed ticket to Fun. 

I was just so excited. I can't really be blamed. This group is so awesome!

So the day finally arrived when we could attend the concert. I met Stacey and her friend Chloe (now my friend) at a Mexican restaurant in downtown Fort Collins, close enough to the venue so we could walk there afterwards. Dinner was delicious.

I've got mango in my taco. I know you're jealous. 

We ate, we laughed, we made fun of vegetarians and then walked to Aggie Theater.

T'was cold. Stacey and I decided to leave our coats in her car and then realized that there was a huge  line outside of the theater. Chloe seemed warm with her wintery coat and her SNOW BOOTS she was wearing. Jerk.

Stacey awkwardly warming her hands on Chloe. I was jealous. 

We stood in line for 12 days. Well... that could be an exaggeration... It might have been a little less than that but because I was so cold and losing feeling in my hands and feet, it seemed like forever.

Finally we got to the front of the line and I got a pretty yellow wristband because I'm over 21. Not that it really mattered.. I don't drink. But it was nice to pretend I could if I wanted to.

We found a nifty spot in the theater on the far left side. It was a ledge and people were standing on it. When I got up on the ledge, I realized that we were above the crowd, and therefore, able to see the stage much better than if we were just on the floor with everybody else.

Awesome.

So we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The doors were supposed to open at 8. They didn't. The opening act didn't go on until past 9,

some Kentucky band who liked to bob their heads a lot. 

and it was almost 11 when Fun. actually made it onto the stage. Kind of ridiculous and I was complaining a lot but once I heard those first few notes and Nate Ruess's epic, amazing voice, all of my snarled feelings melted away and I was lost in the music.

Some people say he's a mix between Mark Whalberg and Matt Damon. Mmmm, maybe. 

The show was pretty amazing. Pictures and video don't really do it justice. They had a great background, the lights were awesome, and of course the music was superb.

So besides waiting out in the cold for so long, pay $20 for a tshirt, buying a Sprite from the bar and only getting unflavored soda, overall it was a successful night.

Silly Chloe. She liked them restroom rules. 

Fun.!