Missing

When I look at my post count for this year, I've posted a total of ten time.  TEN.  Yikes.  Granted, it's been a crazier than normal year and one of my worst, in terms of mental health.  But ten is still so unacceptable.  I partially blame Twitter because it's so easy to spit out 140 characters than it is an entire post.

There are so many things I've missed writing about and feel like it's too late to capture.  I missed writing about Miss K turning three and what a wonderfully complex, goofy, intelligent, sensitive, drama-filled, curious, funny little girl she is.  Whoever started the "terrible twos" saying must not have had kids because two was a breeze compared to trying to raise a threenager.  Ohmylanta have we had some epic battles in this household.  When you combine Miss K's strong will and my super high anxiety, you end up with a three year old, screaming in her bedroom and a mama sitting outside, crying and chain smoking.  At least it hasn't hit the point where it's mama in the bedroom and the three year old outside smoking. Yet.

And even though it was only a month ago, I didn't write about my beautiful Bubbaloo turning a year old.  In fact, I didn't do monthly updates on him at all.  Granted, most of the updates would have been "He eats.  And then eats some more", but still...I didn't write for him the way I wrote for K.  I didn't even do the monthly photo shoots for him.  That's the perils of being a second child, I suppose.  I can't believe Mr A's first year of life flew by so quickly.  I could write about what a happy, relaxed, easy baby he is, but I still want to do that first year post, so I will save it :)

I also haven't written about the trials I've had this year with my mental health. The year started off with a stay in hospital and then another one at the end of July.  Since then, we have done a complete overhaul of my medications...switching med families and taking me to as close to the max dose.  The final pill that was added was only three weeks ago and is the pill for which I have been waiting.  For the longest time, I put my hopes in that one magic pill would miraculously cure me.  This med hasn't completely cured me, but it's made an incredible difference.  Actually, I don't think I ever want to be cured to the point of being normal.  I like me.  I like my nerdiness.  I like my quirks.  I like being weird and saying shit that people don't expect.  Normal is boring.  I never want to be boring.

The improvement in my mental health isn't due to pills alone.  I have done a lot of work this past while with regards to cognitive behaviour therapy.  My most recent workbook was all about dialectical behaviour and how to handle distress...how to to distract myself when horrible thoughts come, and how to relax my mind so that my thoughts don't spiral downwards to the point of wanting to spare everyone my craziness and taking myself out.  I've also started reading "The Power of Now" by Eckhart Tolle.  If my tailbone allowed me, I would give this book a one-woman standing ovation right now. Wow. Wow. Wow. Loves it.

As I leave to get ready to head to Saskatoon to meet my newest niece, I'll leave you with Andrew's first year video.  It keeps telling me that it's not available to play on mobile devices, so I suggest you get your ass to a PC and watch it.

Have a fantastic weekend, y'all.  I know I finally will :)