If you are going through hell...

“If you’re going through Hell, keep going.”

Winston Churchill had many inspiring things to say but in my mind this is one of the most profound.

It may be a matter of opinion, I know 😉 but I have many reasons for this opinion.

It has helped me through some dark times.

Some days are just hard.  If for no reason, or for every reason.

4 years ago Daniel got hurt.  Had to have complete reconstructive surgery done on his knee.  Was out of work for almost 6 months. Then he had to have another surgery on the same knee and was out for another 2 months. I was pregnant with our daughter at the time and had a 3 and 4 year old to take care of. I couldn't work due to a pregnancy related condition and honestly the world was a pretty dark place...

Then,  our daughter was born, I returned to work shortly after and Daniel did as well. But due to the previous years financial hardship, we then lost our home. 

Little did I understand at that moment,  on top of stress that was piling from every angle I also had post partum depression. This may have been obvious to some and yes, the signs were all there. But it wasnt recognized early on. After it all, I got a point where absolutely nothing was worth living for. 

I was ruining everything.
I made everybody miserable.
I was unworthy of the air I breathed.

Let's fast forward now...

I got help,  started some medications,  and recognized that regardless how I felt about myself that my kids were worthy of the air I breathed.  They were and are my daily drive to drive to be better. 


Slowly and surely it got better.  Just like everybody always says it will.  And I began to relax into life as I knew it.

Then a month ago Daniel suffered a severe back injury...

Sitting in the doctor's office when she said the word surgery, I'll be honest... I didn't hear much after that...

Immediate fear and trauma rose to the surface and in my head all I could hear was myself screaming, not again.. please.. not again, it was finally ok!

I voiced some of my concerns to him,  hoping not to offend him or cause him to feel guilt.  And to give him credit, he handled it with complete understanding.

But still... I was scared.

Here we are a month later... surgery lurking before us..
Hes handling it like a grain of salt tossed over his shoulder. No biggy. Get it done and let's move on.

Me? My obnoxiously optimistic self has it's own worst enemy... my anxiety.

I have been struggling badly with my depression. But thankfully I know the signs this time around, and am getting help.

And thankfully this time around I also know no matter what... it IS going to be ok.

I know my kids are worth the air I breathe.
I know I am worth the air I breathe...

Everyone has their own form of hell to walk through... key is to remember to just keep going.

Semicolon project

In 2013 the semicolon project started. Due to my 2007 suicide attempt and my friend Brian also being a victim of feeling like life wasnt withstandable a short time later, it was incredibly important to me to one day get a semicolon. 

When 2016 hit and my life spiraled out of control I again found myself in that moment of feeling like life wasnt worth living. Thank God in that moment when it was do or die I thought of my children and the pain and blame I felt the day Brian ended his life and realized my children would feel that pain intensified by a million. That pushed me to get up, get out the door and get to the hospital before it was to late...

Over the last couple of years I have gone through ups and downs in my own emotions trying to hide from mistakes that haunt me and have to remind myself every single day that I am not what I have done. A dear friend told me a little while back that every story has a purpose... even if you can't see yet what it is, someday it will serve it's purpose. 

Today I didnt just get the semicolon to include myself into a group of people showing the world a story hasnt ended . Today I got a semicolon with the words never give up to remind MYSELF that MY story hasn't ended.. it could have but I chose to continue writing it.

Happy Daddy's day to my lifetime superhero!

When I was 4 years old I walked into the kitchen, blurry eyed from sleep and saw this man sitting there at the table.
Shy and nervous  I stood in silence... until he pulled out a bear. One that would hold a special place till the end of time.
I named her, Freddy teddy.
He broke my walls and got me to open up, quickly I loved him.
He watched me fall in love with French vanilla cappuccinos and taught me how to drive.
He was there for every bad dream and he turned my lamp on every single night.
He never made me feel as though I was any less his own and held me every time that I cried.
He is the cause for every silly face and my personality is his repeating itself.
I am my fathers mini me in almost every way.
He wasn't just my father because he had to be or it's what was right, he chose to be even when he had no obligation.
He is my super hero. He swooped in and saved my life.
He gave me a dad and showed me what I'd been missing, even when he didnt have to.
Daddy I love you. Thank you for always being there for every tough time, every happy time and every moment in general.
I am proud to be a daddy's girl.
I'm so thankful that you chose me.
Happy Daddy's day, Daddy!!!!

My story is being rewritten...

I was a broken soul, lost in a world too quickly passing by.
I wasn't who I wanted to be and I was running from who I used to be.
I had taken my past as an absolute of who not to be.
I forgot who I am, while trying to forget who I was...

Today I begin rewriting my story.

I will not be ashamed of who I was.
I will no longer hide behind a mask walking the earth in thought that I'm undeserving.
I will no longer have the mentality that I don't love myself.
I love the me with flaws, fears, anxieties and tears running down my face.
I love the me that can hope, dream, laugh and celebrate the wonder that is renewed in myself.

1 Corinthians 25:10 

By the grace of God, I am what I am.

I will no longer think of the negative words that have been spoken to me or about me in my life. The words I have allowed to fester, breed and tear me down for far to long. I will no longer allow myself to make my choices out of fear.

 Psalm 46:5

God is within her, she will not fall.

I will take each day as it comes. One foot in front of the next. I have strength I do not even know I have and a hand there to catch me when I feel it running out...

I AM fearfully and wonderfully made. Every single part of my "unique" self was created for a reason.

Letter to me...

Dear 16 year old me,

I'm writing you this letter because right now I know life seems to be dragging on and nothing you do will change that.  All I can tell you is ... stop trying to.

Enjoy the smiles while you can,  enjoy the time that you have with your friends because someday no matter how hard any of you try... most of you will drift apart. I know that seems impossible but sadly it's a fact so have fun with them while you can.

Take every chance given to you and stop being so scared... one day you will look back and regret that you gave up the pieces of yourself that were actually the most important, even if you don't see that now.

Laugh with your best friend as often as time allows... one day he won't be here because his life will be cut short. So go do crazy things, stay up late and listen to music you hate,  take every word he says to heart and don't be offended when he tells you the truth. He only tells you the truth because he loves you.

Your heart is gunna get broken girl... It'll be the worst pain in your life... I wish I could say it makes you stronger, because that's what everybody else says... but it's simply not true.  You're gunna cry,  you're gunna hide from the fact and honestly I can't tell you if it ever completely goes away...But what I can tell you is that you will look back on this as a wonderful memory.  And that's more than most could ask.

You're going to make a LOT of mistakes... I wish I could protect you from them. Situations you will put yourself in... people you will hurt.  Sadly you will have alot you will wish you'd done differently.  But you are learning.. sometimes you're gunna screw up and do it again.  One day I promise... you will figure it out... the people that matter will be the ones who forgive you.

Life will not be an easy one.  Adulting kind of sucks. You will have your hardships. There will be times that you are scared. There will be times that you can't think past the next step in front of you.
The will be times little girl.... where you will simply feel unworthy....

But let me tell you.. you are... you are worthy of your own greatness... never be ashamed of that....

Live your life girl and one day you'll be sitting here writing this letter to you... I promise. Just remember, that your knees are for praying and that sometimes holding your own hand will give you more strength than somebody else's will.

You've got this...

You are not alone...

I was first diagnosed with Bipolar when I was 17 years old... very few are actually aware of this because... well.. the answer is easy... I didn't tell anyone.

It was bad enough that I had struggled with "depression and ADD" since I was 11 and been medicated since 15 when I had my first thoughts of suicide...

I was a girl, that was embarrassed and often used the excuse "I dont want to use a pill to be happy! If I'm not happy in my own I'm not supposed to be!"

My poor parents.. to have to watch their child self sabotage and dig deeper into a hole where she couldn't breathe... the strength these two people I proudly call mine had... I will never understand...

My dad bargained with me through high school to take my pills which often?... ended up in the back of my nightstand drawer... poor guy didn't even know till I was 19.

So when I was diagnosed with Bipolar and anxiety disorder I said screw that. Now dont get me wrong I had a fabulous Psychiatrist who tried to explain that it wasnt like in the movies or how Hollywood has portrayed it which in turn has caused alot of negativity with it's mention...

"She's bipolar??? Oh God.." people automatically think its black and white to set you off. 

I was included in this group of thinkers.

I imagined a stringy haired horror movie character rocking back and forth and going from screaming to laughing. I think every teenager in existence makes crazy jokes like this. I was included...

Number one -
I am not Bipolar... I HAVE Bipolar.
This one took me years to grasp. 

That it was not a character flaw or a defect in my very self. 

It's like having a cold. Would you say I'm a cold? No you would say I have a cold.
It is an illness, nothing more. Nothing less
Just like any long term illness you cant cure it, but you can treat it.

Number two -
I am not crazy. Growing up I stated that I didn't have Bipolar because I didn't want people to look at me like I was crazy.
*Again with the horror movies and Hollywood portrayals*
It took only a few months shy of my 30's for me to accept...
I AM NOT CRAZY!!!!

I feel things stronger, more intense and often it can be way too heavy of a feeling... that does not make me crazy, it makes me passionate

I have days I feel fear for no apparent reason, with this cloud of impending doom over my head... that does not make me crazy, it makes me cautious.
Do I have ups and downs that alot of people dont have? Sure. Absolutely.  You bet.... that does not make me crazy, that makes me ridiculously unique.

When I was diagnosed, I tried mood stabilizers and at 17... I hated that it took the mania away from me... not recognizing that the mania was what was creating most of my problems...

When I was manic...

I was on top of the world.
There was nothing I couldn't do. (I had a feeling of being invincible. During this time, I did alot of drinking) drinking, drugs (my choice was pills) and acting out sexually are common during manic stages. This actually wasnt explained to me until I was 28.
I had zero fear of any situations.
I was a habitual liar.
I didn't care who I hurt during my "binge"
I was insanely self absorbed
I self sabotaged
I had zero care for my own life or others
If anyone expressed upset I would either laugh or turn the upset to rage directed at them instead...
I would do things with no thoughts to the consequences later on...

And then... inevitably... when the mania ends... and it always ends... whether it be 2 hours, 2 weeks or two months later you fall.... and the pit i fell into was so deep that I couldn't even see daylight...

I felt worthless.
I felt like there is nothing i could do..  I screw up everything...
I felt scared. All the time.
I hid from everyone around you, either from not remembering how horribly I treated them or beyond embarrassed for how horribly I treated them.
I set out with a completely different form of self sabotage..

I had a different form of not caring about my life.
My rage was now directed at me and how I felt about myself wasnt fair.
And sadly.. due to all of the things that had bore no consequences for that time had all piled up and I felt 500,000 times worse for them.

When that crash, that so many people I know understand hits you, you cant function. 

You cant breathe. 

You cant live...

It took 13 years, 3 kids and 2 suicide attempts for me to finally understand that... although the mania is bomb, and it is exciting and takes all inhibitions away from your heart and makes you feel so free.. It really didn't... 

I was slave to the mania... and worse?... 

I was the slave to the spiral into the darkness that followed...

Being medicated - 

Is my life quite as "exciting" as it is when I'm unmedicated?
Probably not.

Do I get quite as excited over silly little things like I used to?
No not really.

Am I as ridiculously outgoing as I used to be where I knew no stranger and would for real invite strangers into my car or over to my house?
Not at all.

But am I happy?
Yes.

Am I stable?
Yes.

Am I myself?
For the first time ever...
Yes.

I survived the storm. And every day I am still surviving...

When you feel all alone, know that you're not... know that you have support... even if its here at diaryofdepressedhousewife.

“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.” ~ Haruki Murakami

I am not a failing mother

My family was invited to church this morning by someone in my adult life that has become my friend but while growing up she was just as much a mother to me as she was her own child. She saw me at my best,  sadly sometimes at my worst,  always told me the truth without holding back but always in love without intention to cause pain. And just like a mother she always had an intuition and even when I didn't know it she was always there just when I needed her to be or just in some small act made me feel less alone. As always her intuition could not have been better. The timing for this service couldn't have been more spot on.

The service was a pretty intense one for me in my personal state. Every single bit from the comedy to the nitty gritty I heard myself speaking the words within my own heart...
The main part that really effected me was comparing myself to other moms... I have done this for as long as I can even remember and honestly I think I may have done that since prenatal stages with Kyden...

This mom fed her kid healthy.
My kids? Ramen, spaghetti-os and frozen corn dogs a couple times a week. 
This mom has a bin of age appropriate games all set up and her kids are never idol.
My kids were lucky if I didn't stick in a video game just to get them to leave me alone for 20 minutes and stop asking the same question over.. and over..
This mom always had a clean house.
Mine? Yeah freaking right. Conversation ended.
This mom limited TV time to 30 minutes a day as to not rot her kids brains.
My kids brains are probably goo at this point...

I don't just compare myself to every mom out there.. I compared myself to every thing from every mom at the same time... I was failing.  Horribly. 

My kids throw fits.
My kids argue.
My kids hate brushing their teeth.
My oldest can't tie his shoes yet.
Getting them to brush their teeth is like pulling them.
Sometimes I lie and say I'm going to the bathroom just so I can lock the door and sit there and try not to think about how absolutely, I'm screwing them up because I'm not parenting right.

Just two weeks ago I about had a break down while yelling and crying in Daniel's direction about never going to be that mom... *seriously the timing was amazing* so when I heard... with my own ears... that other moms feel the same way I decided to admit, outside my own home that I feel it but not expecting much to change within myself.

Then this mom... this friend held my hand and for some reason I broke inside...

I broke for feeling like a failure.
I broke for feeling like I was worthless.
I broke for feeling like I was incapable.
I broke for holding onto it for as long as I have.
I broke for feeling so alone in feeling it...

I cried like a big ol baby till I had no tears left to cry which was crazy because if you know me,
A. I HATE crying in front of people *I'm and ugly crier haha*
B. It came from nowhere and I wasnt expecting it!

When I was done I felt like a completely different person. I felt.... more joyful...

For the first time celebrating a mothers day I fully embraced my children's childlike views of myself, and I TRULY enjoyed myself and my family's company in celebration of me without feeling embarrassed or ashamed.

Psalm 34:18
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

They will be kind...

Today I had to take a breath... and admit that I was wrong...

Our boys being so close in age has always been a gift and something that we saw as a silver lining in the chaos of pregnancy and an infant. All I used to ever say is

"they will be best friends growing up. They'll never be alone."

I didn't think about the fact that they are still siblings and that they are two completely different little humans. That Kyden is a vocal, outgoing, caring, (not so good at losing) overachiever. Where as Parker is more laid back, go with the flow, shy and could care less if he wins as long as the person he's playing with is happy. 

You'd think that this mixture would be good no real fights is what you'd assume...

They... never... stop... fighting....

You may think I'm over reacting when I say this... if you do, I challenge you to ask one person who has been around them how they are with them. Then ask them how often I spout out with sarcastic guilt filled lines just to get them to listen to me and stop...

"Why do I speak?! I mean really nobody cares what mom says anyways!"

"No you're not sorry! If you were you would stop when I ask!"

"Omg! I give up! I don't care but if either of you comes crying to me I will NOT feel bad for you so just dont!" (That one's a lie too ha)

I think often times as a stay at home mom, I forget it's ok to walk away when I'm overwhelmed. When I've had three nights of no sleep with a sick baby, it's ok to shut her door and let her scream and take a moment so I don't "lose my mind". When my boys wont stop fighting, wont eat what I've made, and it feels like nobody hears or cares what im saying or feeling, I can walk away. By not walking away I make the wound larger and it begins to fester. Not only in myself but in my kids....

I don't want my kids to grow up in a world of guilt... I don't want them to grow up feeling like all someone has to do is guilt them and they feel obligated to do what's asked. Do they need to listen when told something? Yes, but I need to handle it more like an adult and less like a snotty 13 year old.

I love my kids. All three of them. Even when I want to pull, my hair out, or hide in the bathroom when I hear them yelling my name for the 9000th time that day, even when I sneak and hide nutella because if they knew I had it it'd be gone. Like gone gone. :) I love them not because I have to, not out of obligation and not out of guilt. I love them because they are the most wonderful things that ever happened to me they are the most wonderful gifts entrusted to me. But their lives are not mine to ruin and fill with self doubt, rejection and fear. Their lives are theirs that I was entrusted with to raise to be strong, loving, positive, crazy fabulous humans. :)

My boys fight... but one day I know, that they will be best friends and nothing will ever separate them. Not because I demanded it... because I encouraged it :)

My life means more...

3,392 days. That's how many days it took.
3,393 days ago I tried to commit suicide.  3,393 days ago I took a handful of pills and fell asleep.  3,393 days ago I hurt my family.  3,393 days ago I swore I would never do this again. 
39 hours.  39 hours ago,  I was in the back seat of a car being rushed to the hospital...
39 hours ago I stopped after swallowing three handfuls of pills and realized I didn't want to die...
39 hours ago I cried because every mistake is made stared me in my face and I actually allowed myself to think my family was not worth pain.  Getting help.  The repercussions of my actions. 
39 hours ago I thought everyone would be better off without me...
I was placed in the ICU... I was watched like a hawk.. I was placed under 24/7 watch....
I had blood tests on the hour, and ivs hooked up had shot after shot in my stomach... I swallowed charcoal... charcoal meant to make me vomit... and I fell asleep... I woke up to an angry husband, trying to hold it together. Three children who were missing out... and parents looking at me trying to understand why.... I wish I could explain why...
Tonight I'm in a room with a camera... I can't even go pee without the bathroom door open and supervision... I have paper trash bags, and can't wear my own clothes...
Tomorrow... I go to psychiatric facility. I will be monitored and go through alot of therapy... I'm told it will be the best for me. I'm told I do not have an option.
I will go with an open mind that things will be better. This is a step that unfortunately I have to take. I have to do it for me. I have to do it for my marriage. I have to do it for my kids.
I will beat this. I will bounce back... just please pray for me... but more so... pray for my husband... for his peace and strength in this moment. For my children.... that they know I love them....

I shared those words a short 3 weeks ago. It feels like months...
I have had to learn and grow. I've had to make changes to better myself. Better my mind.

I was an intense drinker when I was in my late teens. My world revolved around alcohol and caffeine pills. I didn't do much without drinking. I had struggled for many years with depression and drinking made me forget my problems and made everything more fun... so I told myself. Didn't matter what mistakes I made while drinking or the relationships I harmed with my drinking. When I was 19 I had my first go round trying to commit suicide. I felt that everyone was hurt by me and frankly that I ruined anything and anyone around me. Unfortunately the day I made that decision I was highly intoxicated. Thankfully I lived.
When my parents moved me to Oklahoma from my home town in Iowa my drinking had lessened and things seemed to get better.
A few short weeks after I met my husband I made the stupid decision to go out and drink. I drank. And drank. And didn't have much memory the next day of what had gone on. Thankfully I had found a man that loved me through it.
On December 31st, 2009 I was angry about something and picked up a beer. As I went to lift it to my mouth I realized my problem. I always drank to distract myself... I always drank when I was angry... I walked to the sink and poured it out.
I realized, I was in fact an alcoholic. I decided I was not going to drink any more.
I went years without touching a drop. I got married... Had a couple kids... the first time I drank my second son was about a year old and I got one drink in and my arms throbbed. I couldn't drink without a burning sensation shooting through my arms. So I really didn't drink.
I had one night in 2014 that I got pretty drunk and had to be embarrassed the next day when I reminded myself again, why I didn't drink.

So when July of 2016 rolled around my life got all kinds of twisted. I craved alcohol daily. If a bottle of wine was in my fridge I'd have to fight myself not to touch it.
When we lost our house in July I unfortunately lost my mind. I had been struggling with depression for over a year but due to our financial situation I didn't feel like I could tell my husband.
I told myself, we can't afford a doctor... we can't afford for me to take meds... we can't afford for me to go to counseling...
I started drinking.
At one of my best friends wedding which I was in I stood up to do my speech and I was intoxicated and had to focus to not slur.
When my husband and I would fight I'd open a bottle.
When I went out for a girls night, everyone else was sober and Emily was the drunk.
I knew I was spiraling out of control but didn't feel like I could slow it down. Didn't feel like I could tell anyone. I was fighting a war by myself and losing...

The night before my daughters 1st birthday party... three of my friends and I were setting up decorations and making the cake. More they were and I of course was drinking.... I was officially out of control... I played off sober and drove home... something I thank God everyday didn't end someone else's life..

I called my husband in a complete loss of everything and ended up on my bedroom floor.... in tears... so tired.
I took a bunch of pills and locked myself in the bathroom... at that moment I thought of my children. My beautiful boys and gorgeous girl and I hated myself more... who was I to take myself away from them?! They didn't know this me that I fought they knew the me that they love and is always there!
I panicked and thankfully my husband and a friend of mine got me to the hospital in time...

It's been a long road.. full of a lot of tears, anger and pain... I learned I can't fight alone. I've learned I can't be embarrassed.

I've quit drinking. My husband poured out every drop in the house. He graciously quit drinking with me.
I take my meds, the way I'm suppose to.
When I'm having a bad day, I talk about it and usually cry.

I've stopped holding in my pain.
I've stopped fighting alone.

I realize I need support to battle my demons and I'm proud of myself that I'm brave enough to admit it.

I don't love myself yet... But everyday I feel a little bit closer... I feel a little more worth fighting for...
I have a better relationship with my husband and kids than I've had in a long time...

I share all of this with hopes that just one person finds solace in this. One person turns and says, I need help...
Nobody needs to fight alone...

I don't know you, but I will fight with you.
Because we are worth it...

Time crept up on me...

Days like today hurt...
The days I look at my baby girl,  4 days from turning one and giving myself the silent reminder that she is my last baby.
Days that I look at my boys and realize at 4 and 5 that they have developed an independence in so many things that I feel a little less needed.
Days that I feel like life is passing by just a bit to fast.
These are the days that I think back on being a kid and having my parents tell me to stop wanting to grow up so fast because one day I won't be able to slow it down, and to believe them that I'd want to.
They warned me.
I have had to have the discussion with my boys when they have said to me "mom I'm not your baby, I'm a kid" and explain to them that they will in fact always be my babies... even when they are 28 like me.
I look back on my life and think of the times I couldn't wait to be grown and make my own decisions. How I felt time move so slowly.
Now I'd give back every moment of begging for it to speed up just to have it slow down.
One day my children will look at me and be wishing the exact same thing... and I will repeat the line my mother told me...
Stop trying to grow up so fast because one day you won't be able to slow it down even if you want to...
Right now I'll hold on tight... because I don't ever want them to let go...
But I'll watch them change into amazing individuals, and teach them to succeed. They will be great. They will surprise even me, their biggest fan with their abilities.
But for now... I'll keep begging time to just slow down...

A letter to 16 year old me...

Girl,
I have to sit here and write this down. All of the things, I really need you to know.
I see you feeling insecure and self conscious I see you doing things out of your character. I know you want them to like you but if they don't like the bubbly, off set, weird girl that I know, then they're not worth knowing.
If they don't love the fact that you are endlessly naive, sickeningly sweet and that you dance at the most ridiculous times then they aren't worth loving in the first place.
If you have to pretend to be someone you aren't to get those people to like you, then the ones out there who are just like you will never find you...
I know you feel like you really need that boy to like you. But what you need is to just slow down. You're only going to be this young once and one day you will miss it.
Sweetheart, your heart is going to get broken... actually a couple of times. Don't grab on to that wrong one and expect that you'll change him. He shouldn't want you to change, so don't expect it from him.
Just take your time...
Don't go and get yourself involved in the wrong things. It's not going to make things better, it's only going to make things worse. Later on I promise you will live with alot of regret.
Focus on your family and friendships, they are the only important things to focus on in your life right now.
Spend time with that best friend of yours. One day he won't be there. I know that you don't believe that now.. you're probably sitting there laughing at this. I know you feel inseparable but he's hurting more than he let's on.  I hate the day that hits you... you will never forget that day. It will live with you forever.
Don't put those babies down, soon enough they won't want to be held dear, those boys will tear the castle down :). Seriously don't try it get that child to walk to early... he'll just start running...
Don't ever hide your feelings girl, I know you feel so much.. long ago you found yourself and your people found you. They don't care if you are endlessly naive, sickeningly sweet or that you dance at the most ridiculous times... they don't care that you cry at sloppy movies, that you love uncontrollably,  or that sometimes you lose control. They will be there to scoop you up even when you don't realize you've fallen and they will hold you while you cry.
Your people love you for you. Take away everything else and that in itself is enough.

Bully stay away from me...

Depression is a very real problem in our society. It can be intimidating to people and change you day by day as the person going through it.
We have young children only 4 years older than my son taking the permanent leap to end the confusing feelings within them and to run from painful words spoken to them from people who simply do not understand.
Children live daily in a world where they feel anxiety the moment they wake up that they will not be good enough... that they will be picked on, walked away from and pushed around.
My boys are in school, pre-k and kindergarten. They are what is supposed to be a blissful age of curiosity and adventure. They are supposed to find friends in everyone. Because of course children unlike adults know no race, religion, gender or orientation.
This is the time of their lives for them to soar and be molded into the kind, confident and strong young citizens our world needs.
Unfortunately I have seen what the world does to our children... I am a mother of a victim of bullying...
Last year my oldest son was in pre-k and had never been more excited to start an adventure. His second day of school he told me as we pulled up in front of the school that I needed to stay in the car cause he wanted to walk in by himself.
My son was confident and proud. I cried. :)
The second week of school I witnessed bullying happening to some small children by the older children. I opened my mouth and was even bullied myself. Me a grown woman, a mother was bullied by a 5th grader who seemingly felt his sole purpose was to belittle those around him... that was a different feeling for me. I had a conversation with the principal and felt confident that I was the best mom ever and I stood up and took care of the situation and just like that my son was safe.
Fool me....
About a month later I get a call from my mother... my parents were keeping my boys overnight. When she called I thought it was a normal goodnight call I get from my kids every time they spend the night at my folks house. Boy was I wrong. My mom called me to discuss a conversation her and my 4 year old had just had. My 4 year old had opened up a expressed to his grandmother that there were boys on the playground that punched him every day at school. And every day he let them and never told a soul...
When she put my son on the phone and I asked him why he hadn't told me, he started crying... I told him he needed to tell his teacher any time someone put hands on him and to stay away from those boys. His reply broke my entire being into a million pieces...
"I'm sorry mommy... but I have to have somebody to play with. They won't play with me if I don't let them!"
Oh my heart.
This beautiful, sensitive, intelligent, loving little boy had lost his confidence. 
I hadn't noticed. 
I hadn't asked.
Being the mommy again that I am I went to the school demanded a meeting with the principal and made it clear to the receptionist my son would not be attending class until I got my meeting. 
I got my meeting.
I fixed it!
Or so I thought...
From that point on we had some difficulties at home. He had more temper tantrums, more anger,  more tears...
What was happening to my son?...
Then I got a horrible understanding one day as I arrived early to the school and the kids were still outside...
There was group of kids all playing together laughing.. running..
And then there was my son... all alone digging in the dirt...
"I'm sorry mommy... but I have to have somebody to play with!"
Those words... those sad, confused words...
My little boy had these kids at age 4 who either had to punch you to be included or you had to be all alone...
My little social butterfly.... with no ability to be social...
It's been a year, he's at a new school,  has friends,  but he still cries if he has a bruise on his face thinking kids will laugh at him... my child still worries everyday that someone won't like him...
We as a society are unintentionally failing our children....
Phrases being thrown around even in jest we are showing or children is ok to say because it's funny... I'm even to blame for that...
"Boys will be boys"
"Fight like a man"
"You idiot"
"Your retarded"
"You punk"
Verbal, emotional, physical... any type of bullying... hurts...
We have since talked about the importance of all of this. I have drilled that nobody touches him in a way that makes him hurt, or uncomfortable.  I have pushed that if anyone does he goes to an adult. I have also educated that we never want to hurt anyone the way he was hurt and that if we ever saw someone being treated badly we don't just stand there and turn away. We tell an adult.
As parents we need to instill in our children that it's not embarrassing to tell someone if someone is mean to you. That it doesn't make them a cry baby. It makes them human. Little humans who hurt...
Encourage your child to be one of the children who sticks up for those bullied. Child suicide has to stop and it's our turn to bring up children who change the world.

I'm hanging on

I can't say this post will be uplifting.  I can't say it will bring you joy or make you laugh.  Honestly? As I sit here writing I don't really know myself where it is going. 
For the first time since I've been writing this blog it will actually breathe into post of its title.  Depressed. 
As most know from previous posts our lives turned upside down last year with Daniel's injury.  We lost two cars,  had utilities shut off countless times, got notice we were losing our home to forclosure,  began having pay garnished for medical bills and just couldn't catch back up.
Now for anybody who really knows me they know I am sickeningly optimistic. It is a rare occasion that I allow life to put me into a slump. No matter the situation I have always been that person who strongly believes and strongly encourages "don't , it'll be fine.  It can't get any worse. "
Now if only you could have been that fly on the wall the last year and a half and seen how every time I spoke those words I learned... yeah it really can....
After our tax return was garnished this spring and we gotten that letter saying sorry guys your house is about to be ours  (speaking for the bank) we had recieved a letter from a government agency that helps bail family's out of trouble with their mortgage by helping them get a mortgage  modification.  Which is taking what you owe and adding it to the end. Well after doing some research we saw it was a legit company and called immediately.  We were determined to keep our kids grounded with what they know as long as we are in Oklahoma.  all it took was 4 months of $900 payments.
So for 4 months even while Daniel was out of work we scraped together $900 to send this company to save our house. Finally after the 4th and final payment... I breathed. I had succeeded in providing what I had been sure was the impossible. I finally felt safe in my own skin as a working wife and mother.
Have you ever heard the saying everything good must come to an end?
Well. It did.
Now I'm not saying EVERY single thing does. I don't think I'm quite that screwed up yet but with situations over the last year I may be close.
Unfortunately this company is what's called a mirror scam company. They take websites of real companies and they make a mirror image of them but they change a few minor things that most people would not notice in order to scam people. Unfortunately we fell victim to that scam and we lost $3,600 and a period of four months...
Now I would say it's safe to say that anger is not the emotion that I felt. I think that the emotion that I felt was rage cap to its ultimate. Can you tell I don't even know how to describe the emotion that I felt?
So after this happened, I hit a point where for the first time in my entire life optimism held no place in my heart... I can't even say that pessimism is what held its place because I don't think the pessimism could show its face from behind the rage that I felt, the pain that I felt, the disappointment, the outrage and honestly the feeling of violation that I felt.
Here my husband myself and our three children had been to hell and back in the last 18 months, and because of one shred of hope, we thought there was finally an end to the tunnel of Darkness. But then there were these people that probably slept in nice houses were able to feed their children were able to make sure their children had new shoes when they needed them, were able to feed their children more than peanut butter or jelly sandwiches and ramen noodles. Who were able to take their children on vacations, who were able to buy their children their favorite toy... THOSE people could sleep at night after they did what they did and knowing every aspect of the story of what our family has gone through.
Honestly for the first time in my life I would have had no problem seeing those people in a vulnerable position with a gun being held to their head and turning around and walking away.
Now I don't know if this makes me a normal person and I don't know if this makes me an awful person but what I do know is this that they robbed me of the one thing that no matter what I felt like I would always have... my faith that everything will always be ok, my faith that everything would always work its way out that no matter what happened there was always a way to make it through it. They robbed me of my joy they robbed me of my sanity.
The breakdown that I had that day and the breakdowns that I've had almost daily since have been something that I am completely unable to grab onto they are completely foreign to me. I am not used to being an angry person I am not used to being a person that looks at everyone that I see on the street in immediate distrust... but I do that now.
We got the letter last week that we had to get out of our home that was how we found out we were scammed and here we lost $3,600 and now we had to find a new home.
My children were about to start school, I just started a new job a mile down the road and now we have to find a new home...
I didn't WANT to find a new home. I didn't want to have to get rid of my dogs. I didn't want to tell my children that they would be going to a different school next year I didn't want to feel like I was some form of a disappointment because after all, all I could think of was it was my idea.
The day after we moved into our new home we went outside to go to church my husband opened the car door and saw that someone had broken into it... for the first time in my entire existence I understood the term hyperventilation where the anxiety boils up inside of your chest so strong that you can't even will yourself to take a breath.
I remember the night before telling my husband as I was broken and crying and he said it'll get better it can't get any worse it's only up from here. And I had looked at him and said do NOT promise me that! Everytime we say that something else goes wrong!
But again he promised and that day whenever we were looking in our car where someone again had made me feel violated... the anger I felt towards my husband was astronomical. All I did was yell at him through my tears
"I told you not to promise me! I told you something else could go wrong!"
I told him I was angry I told him that I had feelings in my chest and that I had emotions that I didn't know how to handle and I told him that for the most part I just wanted to give up.
I told him there are days that I am in the car by myself and I look at the highway in front of me and I have thought to myself what it would be like to just keep going...
I'm told that I'm a mom and I'm not allowed to feel the way that I feel because I have 3 lives that count on me. But I'm also a human and there's also only so much that a human can take and although I'm at my wit's end I get up every morning, I go to work, I come home, I spend time with my babies, I get my husband up, take him to work same routine starts again the very next morning...
I do not ignore my children. I do not regret my children. I'm human and I'm tired and I'm broken.
There are days that I want to stay in bed because I don't want to give life a chance to knock me down another Peg. There are days that I don't want to talk to people because I don't want to hear their opinion on what I'm supposed to do or how I'm supposed to feel.
I'm going to feel the way I'm going to feel and nobody is allowed to tell me when I'm going to feel because right now I don't even know how to decipher the emotions inside of myself.
I don't know what to say to my three-year-old when he looks at me and says Mommy I miss our old house breaks my heart into a thousand pieces it makes me feel like I failed it makes me feel like there's no greater purpose and then all we're going to do for the rest of our existence his fight to live.
I'm hanging on by a thread but by God I am hanging on and tomorrow morning I will get up I will put my clothes on I will get my children in the car I will go to work I will go home I will spend time with my babies I will wake my husband up and take him to work. And I will live another day... just hanging on...

Bring back love

I have sat and watched over the last 24 hours social media explode with hateful words racial slurs and people who have been friends for years sever a friendship over a difference of opinion. 
I have seen articles of men dying when they have done no wrong because of an incident that happened halfway across the nation.
I have seen innocent police officers paying the price for one that had done something unruly, uncalled for.
I have seen people fight over the fact that they deserve it because the man that was shot first DIDN'T deserve it.
I have seen the negativity of police officers and men and women of color and not all over be shared.
But what I haven't seen is the fact that no matter what the race no matter what the religion everyone realize that we are human.
I don't see people weeping for the families that have loved ones lost I don't see understanding and compassion being poured out to them I see words of they deserved it..  they got what's coming to them.
I hate that I am raising my children in a world where humanity is so rare.
I hate that I'm raising my children and a place where even police officers who have done nothing wrong are something to be feared, because the population has made every single one of them lumped as something to be feared.
I hate that my children are being raised in a place where they are forced to notice the color of a man's skin. My children see friends no matter the color.
I hate that my children have to grow up in a world where they have to feel like they're a bad person because they're white, my children were fearfully and wonderfully made and they have no reason to ever feel guilty or feel shame for the color of their skin.
I hate that they are growing up in a world where they have to fear to become a police officer and they have to feel guilty for not being black.
I hate that there are black children all across this nation that had to feel the same turmoil because their skin is not white, they were not created  to have a skin color that shows that they are bad or they are evil. They are assumed they will automatically will rob a bank, shoot a man, kill a child and I hate the injustice tossed upon these innocent children. they are just as fearfully and wonderfully made and beautiful the SAME as my children. they should not on first glance be judged because of a population that is wrong 
I have met just as many  bad black people and bad white people THOSE people should be grouped together not the whites with the bad whites and the blacks with the bad blacks there are many amazing, good African American men and women in this world and there are many amazing, good white people in this world  THOSE people should be grouped together
It should not have to be where I am group together with a population  that looks at people with darker skin color and ridicules them because, I. do. not.
The African American man living next door to should not be grouped in with the group of people that ridicule and shame white people  because they automatically assume that we view them as a lesser person because he. Is. not. 
Myself and him should be grouped together as a population that loves people and that doesn't care  whether or not your skin is light or dark. 
I have met many amazing police officers, yes I've met a few that are not so nice. I realize that they are out there  but the amazing police officers that I have encountered should not have to be grouped in with the ones that are not so nice and they should not have to be killed for doing their job all because of the fact that everyone is angry over the actions of the police officer that did something wrong.
That is not Humanity that is fear, that is anger, and I hate that is the world that we live in.
I want to bring back Humanity  I want to bring back love we are all human we all love the same way we all feel pain, have fear and bleed the same color.
We all nurture our children and want them to grow up for greatness, so why can't we be the people that teach them to be great.
Love one another.
I want my boys to love for your spirit, soul and heart.
Not for the color of your skin or your occupation.
Bring back Humanity.
Bring back love.

It was the last night for forever....

I come here today to talk about something dear to me and now hard on my heart. 
I have always been a nursing mother.  I came from a breastfeeding family and married into one.
So needless to say I saw no other options for myself.
When my first child was born,  he was 4 weeks early and in the nicu. Labor had been long and ended with a c section and myself highly drugged. With him being so far from me while I was confined to my bed with high blood pressure the nurses confused the situation and fed him formula.  I was unable to nurse my newborn till day 5. My milk finally dropped.  Unfortunately from that point on breastfeeding was an extremely painful process... but dear lord I was determined.  The first 2 months I would bring myself to the point of tears,  bleeding and holding my breath while nursing just to feed my baby.  By the 7th month of Kyden's life while pregnant with his little brother he decided he didn't want to do it any more.  This of course broke my heart but I was ok. I had 7 months to go before I had another baby to nurse and my lord I needed the rest before that. 
When my second son was born I had learned my lesson.  I got him the moment he was born,  nursed him. Wow it was a new feeling.  He could still be trained and so could I! Parker was a very aggressive eater but even with that it was a million times less painful than it had been with his brother. He nursed for 1 year exactly.  On the night of his first birthday I went to nurse him and he turned me down.  He was done.
It was a bit harder than with his brother because I wasn't expecting at the time so I cried... but knowing I was planning on physically having one more I got over it pretty well.
February of last year when we found out I was pregnant with Kassalynn, one of the very first things I did was get my pump out.  Nursing momma was back!
Well when Daniel got hurt and couldn't work times got a little stressful. Then I had a complicated pregnancy, totalled my car, couldn't work and couldn't drive and it got about 1000 times more complicated.
Many of you know that Daniel and I have already had long conversations about wanting to adopt a child when Kass was 5 or 6. So we were planning on stopping after her anyway. But what many don't know is that I in fact made sure of it... I had a tubal ligation following my c section. It didn't hit me even a little that I couldn't have another baby till Kass was about 5 months old.  But even then it wasn't extreme.  It didn't hit me like a mac truck till this morning. And I'll tell you why...
At Kass' 3 month appointment which was almost 4 months since she had rsv. She was way way to tiny.  She fell in the second percentile for her weight.  At only 11 lbs. The doctor looked at me and said "she's starving".
As a food source you feel like a failure.  As a mother I can't even place into words what I felt.  I felt unable to care for my child,  I felt negligent that I didn't know she was starving and felt abusive that I was starving her.  So we began supplementing with formula. 2 to 3 bottles a day.  But she still wasn't gaining like she should.
Last week I worked a LOT of hours so I wasn't home much which forced Daniel to give her formula every feeding. All the sudden my child starts getting SO heavy.  She developed rolls and stated having more energy and moving around and the doctor says "she's up to the 5th!"
Now for the Mac truck... remember that determined word? Well I was determined to at least nurse kass before bed. And this morning when I woke up in realized, I hadn't nursed her since two nights ago and my whole world crumbled on my head... I'm done. She's done. Night before last was the last night I would ever again nurse one of my children. And I feel like I missed it...
But as much as I came to the revelation that fed is best not breast is best I came to this revelation as well...
I had always been a nursing mother.  I had always been a stay at home mother.  Now I'm a working mother. And though many mothers are more than able to be both I had never had the experience just like I'd never experienced nursing before my first child. I haven't failed because I did the best I could. I may feel sad and might still feel a tad guilty but I did well.
I will miss those moments I already do. I will most likely cry some tears. I already do.
But no matter how short or how long I did it, no matter how much I supplemented. I did my best and I am still doing my best. Because my child's health is more important than my desires for just a little longer.
Today I hurt. But today I am proud.

Time heals all wounds...

Time heals all wounds.. so they say.
In my opinion that's tragically untrue.
7 years ago my best friend in the whole world had many wounds. Hidden, unreachable wounds.
He didn't let people in on the sadness that he felt. He kept it tucked way down deep where nobody could see.
He was always happy, charismatic, fun and loving. Everyone else's problems and he was the first to try and solve them.
Times that I would be confused and out of sorts, or doing something I really shouldn't, he would never hide his concern or disapproval. He was the first one to honestly open up and say "Emily, you're being stupid." "For once just see what I see."
He loved with his whole heart and nothing but. There was nobody he wasn't genuine with. If he said loved you he loved you, if he didn't like you... well.. you knew it.
I could always count on real with him.
I could always just count on him.
7 years ago he hit a low.
He didn't feel as though he had anyone he could count on to take away the pain and sadness. But the reason is.. we never knew.
So many people in this world would have given everything they had to make him happy... he just didn't seem to know that...
I have a lot of favorite memories with this incredible man but one of my favorites that I think of often is this...

I was 18 and he was 19. It was March. We were standing outside leaning on a power box talking and he was mad at me about a bad choice I was making... it started to rain... I don't know if we were unique or if there are many more people like this but we just stood out in it. I was frustrated feeling that he wasn't understanding me...
Suddenly after feeling like we were standing there forever the rain began to clear and he took my hand and led me across the parking lot through the trees.. he helped me climb up this mountain of dirt. We sat there in silence taking in the view as the sun began to set when he took a breath and looked at me.
"I don't get it... look out there.. do you see that? That's what I see in you. Beauty. Why are you the only one who can't see it?"

I couldn't be mad after that. There was the real Brian. There was the Brian I could always count on to show me every little piece of myself that I didn't know existed.
He in such a large way shaped my heart to what it is today.
What I wouldn't give to sit on a dirt pile with him and watch that sunset again today. If I could go back I would have stayed longer.

I miss you as always, but more today than yesterday...
7 years is a long time... did you know we would all hurt? 7 years later?

We do.

I don't take my time with you for granted. I am thankful for every moment of it.

I Miss you Crazy. Like crazy.

I'll love you forever.

Happy Valentine's day to my husband...

Happy Valentine's day my love.

I'm sorry it wasn't anything special, or exciting and I didn't plan anything for you.  I love you everyday of the year not just this one day. I swear I really do.

I know there are often times we don't feel much like husband and wife.  More like just a mom and dad falling victim to the chaos of parenting. I miss you every day, even when you're sitting beside me. I miss the conversations we would have full of spontaneous meaning. I know mostly all they are now is comparing schedules, doctors appointments, school meetings and bills to pay.

I know I sometimes forget to tell you when I notice the sweet little things you do. Like how you always get my favorite ice cream, not yours. Or that anytime we stop to get a drink you get Dr Pepper instead of Coke even though that's what you would want all because you know I don't like it. That's something special about you. And I do see that you do that. Everytime.

I see when you snuggle with one of our kids and watch a show you really hate, or stay up a little later when your exhausted just to play a game. I see that you let me vent about things you have no feelings about and when you let me ramble on about nothings just to let me talk.

I notice how you hold your tongue when I'm being irrational and immature and reacting how I shouldn't. I notice how you are patient when I'm not returning the favor.

I know you feel at times I don't see you there in front of me. I know sometimes I can make you feel like all I do is mother our kids and forget about you... I know that many times it appears that EXACTLY what I do.
But my love, I promise I DO see you.

I'm sorry that I do not more often show you or express how thankful I am for everything you do, or how much I appreciate you and love you. I'm sorry for losing it sometimes and getting frustrated. Sometimes you drive me crazy :) but I love you just the same. I'm sorry that many times I lose it on you it's not even your fault. It's typically mine and I'm sorry for being to stubborn to admit it most of the time. Every day I'm working to try and fix my flaws and admitting when I'm wrong..... ha the fact that I don't is my worse one of all. :)

Thank you for loving me even when I'm crazy. Thank you for standing beside me through these crazy times parenting our wonderful kids. Thank you for always being on my side. Thank you for always being there no matter what. I can't imagine doing any of this without you there by my side. My rock when I feel faulty, my breath when I can't breathe, my heart that keeps on beating.

And lastly...
I love you.
I love the you who even when your tired fixes what needs fixed, cleans what needs cleaned.
I love the you that loves me unconditionally when I lose it and scream when you did nothing wrong.
I love the you that teaches our boys how to play a new game, or ride a bike or kick a ball.
I love the you who loses yourself in our baby girls eyes.
I love the you that makes mistakes and reminds me we are all human.
I love the you that accepts that I am human too.

I love the you that I wake up every morning to and don't just love you. I choose to love you because I WANT to love you.

I love our life. Every happy, sad, angry and dirty little bit of it. There is no one in life other than you I would want to go through it with.

I don't fear that we won't make it. Because at the end of this crazy chaos when our kids are grown and gone, I believe we will look back and realize that every step of it brought us closed together and taught us more and more of what we needed to know. Someday we will look back at these frustrating moments and laugh at our reactions. Laugh at the silly fights and be thankful that each of us even when we felt distant held on so tight.

I love you more today that I did the day I first loved you. Not in that sloppy goofy teenage girl sort of way.
In that I'll love you till the end of time you are my heart sort of way.

Happy Valentine's day my husband. My heart.

I love you.

I made you, but you made me a mom.

From the moment I knew of your existence I swear I could feel you.
I swear I knew you.
The moment I first heard your heartbeat my own jumped in my chest.

I joined groups.
Read any book I could get my hands on
I talked to family and friends.
I absorbed every ounce of advice I could gather from them.
As much as I thought I knew what I was doing.
I also knew I didnt.

I gave up coffee and tea.
Cigarettes and beer.
Took prenatals and folic acid
And I snacked on tums.

The day they looked at me and said you were ready to come to be honest, I couldn't breathe.
I was prepared.
I knew everything I could possibly know.
But at that moment I was scared...

What if you cried when I held you
Or I didn't swaddle very well.
What if I did something wrong
And you suffered for my ignorance.

I was about to be a mom.
My life was about to change.
A whole little beings life....
Depended on me.

The first time I heard you.
Tears filled my eyes.
It was a sound I never thought would bring me so much joy.
The first time I held you and your tiny hand held mine.
My own existence meant something so much more.

I swaddled you well.
You slept in my arms.

There are times you are frustrating.
That I want to clock out.
But then you ask me to hold you.
Or say mommy tuck me into bed.

My world changed the moment you came into this world.
Even from your moments inside of me.
And there's not a single part I would change.

I gave birth to you.
I gave you life.
But you gave me so much more.

You my darling son.
Gave me the most meaningful gift in my life.
You made me a mom.

*I love you my first born. Thank you*

Mom, my boogers look like...

So today my kids and I had a pretty fabulous day. Full of fun laughter and music.

It was a day for the calender. :)

My oldest reminded me today how much he was like me and that I really am wrong when I say he gets his attitude from his dad. No it definitely comes from me.

But more today I realized how a child's brain works. So completely out of the box.

My son parker, (who has a mind and personality all his own) is all boy. He loves gross things, slimy things.  Worms, mud, bugs, creepy crawlies. God was definitely testing my abilities to be a boys mom when he gave me him. :)

He also gets the biggest kick out of bodily functions. He's the first one to yell I tooted, and crack up when we say it stinks. (As I said a personality all of his own)

Well we have been working on the no nose picking the last few weeks. Trying to encourage tissues and less....fingers... bleh.

Tonight while in the car, he was apparently picking his nose. And informed me in the front seat...

"Mom, my boogers look like Ramen noodles!"

Oh. My. Gosh. Can I say ew enough. Ha

After going through the speech of, "please don't pick your nose Parker and DEFINITELY don't eat it, it is NOT ramen" I had to laugh at the realization that I came to.

How do children see things?
How differently they can see objects and the world.

I always say my biggest fear in life is that Parker has zero fear of anything. He sees everything as exciting, as nothing to back away from.

My son sees no reason to fear the stranger he says hello to in walmart as he offers them a bite of his cookie. He is truly one in a million.

Tonight I realized that his brain works in ways I myself as his mother will most likely never understand. And that's ok.

He's all his own.

I was given the gift of getting to raise this amazing, spontaneous and fearless little boy.

There will be times I will probably have to hold my breath when he gets older when one of his fearless stunts takes my mommy breath away.

My children teach me things everyday and the amazing fact is that today... I learned from something as disgusting as boogers. :)

Picky eaters...

My 4 year old Kyden is an incredibly picky eater. And I mean an INCREDIBLY picky eater.
I more often than not hear "I hate that" before he's even tried it.

One thing the child will not eat no matter what is onions. So tonight I was experimenting with some pork ribs and sautéed them in an onion butter sauce. Delish. This was Kyden

K- "Mommy what is this."

(minor white lie)
Me- "it's butter baby."
* looks at it suspiciously*
K- "ok."

5 mins later

K-"mmmm mommy this is soooo good!"

Me- "I'm so glad you like it. I've got a secret for you."

K-"what?"

Me- "That's butter."

K- "yeah. I know." *smacking big bite*

Me- "And onions."

*stops chewing looks incredibly freaked out and literally spits it out*

(slightly annoyed)
Me- "now why did you just do that?"

K- "it's not so good anymore mommy. It was ok at first but the onions made me want to make bubbles." (what he calls throwing up)

Yeah right. Teaches me to tell the truth...😣

Enjoy! :)