Mama's Home!

It's been three years since I last wrote a blog and let me tell you, I'M RUSTY! I've missed writing. Life got away from me, and blogging moved to the bottom of the to-do list. 

To be honest, I forgot about this site. Google sent me an e-mail saying if I didn't purchase more data storage or delete some of my 60,000 emails, I would no longer receive incoming mail. That gave me a panic attack, so I naturally did what anyone would do when they were an over-spender, I bought more storage. I'm in my budget era, or that is what my husband would like to think, and I thought if I deleted some emails, I could cancel the monthly subscription of $19.99. 

While deleting, I came across an e-mail regarding the blog, read some of the blogs, and thought, wow, I wrote these?

It got me thinking about what is happening in my life right now. Can I write about therapy, my journey to finding myself, and how I could help other women be their most authentic selves?

Before diving into what I really wanted to tell you, let me congratulate you all. We made it. When I started blogging, it was one year into the pandemic. 50 weeks after the 2 weeks to flatten the curve. 

Three years post-pandemic, the kids are alive, I'm still married, and I still have my job. But does it really feel like it's been three years? Why does time cease to exist in our everyday lives, but the years fly by? 

To catch you up, CJ is now 10 and has the attitude of a 16-year-old. Cameron is still courageously stubborn, quietly complicated, and too smart for his own good, and Connor has the best imagination. I wish I could see the stories he makes up in his head. 

This has not been my favorite period of parenting. Half the time, I feel like I'm winging it, screaming, and fucking it up. I must have missed this chapter in the imaginary parenting book the hospital gave out after you've given birth.

But the boys are thriving. We are dealing with everyday struggles of friendships, too much screen time, bedtimes, and never enough food in the house. Oh, and of course, we are knee-deep in four different sports right now. 

Clark and I started marriage counseling when we made a huge life decision to step away from family members and break generational trauma. Through marriage counseling, it was determined I needed to find an individual therapist who specialized in EMDR therapy. I wasn't jumping at the chance to confront my childhood trauma and put it off for over 6 months. 

At this time, a dear friend started therapy and raved about her therapist. Whenever she spoke about these breakthroughs, I asked for the therapist's number. I wouldn't do anything with it.  Ariana Grande's song "Thank You, Next" would be playing in my head. 

A few months later, that friend said you need to get into therapy ASAP because she is starting a book club with just her clients. Am I embarrassed to say that that is what got me into individual therapy?  

No, no, I am not. I am a whore for a book club. 

It seems like every woman I speak to in their mid-30s to early 40s is struggling. We are at the middle point in this marathon called life. We are trying to figure out who we are, what happened to us in the last 35 years, and whether we are our 100% most authentic selves or are we being what society tells us to be as a mother, wife, and frankly as a woman. 

Buckle up because I am about to take you on this wild ride of therapy.  I hope that I can make you laugh, make you realize that you are not alone, and hope that you can find something crazy to do with your life because you, sister, are worth it.