Only read if you're REALLY curious, cause this one I wrote for me...

It has been about 5 months since I posted a blog. Ava was just beginning kindergarten, Sophia was anxiously awaiting her preschool debut, and I was struggling with where the aforementioned left me. I kind of felt like I'd just been dropped from a full-time position as Mom to a part-time position as Mom. As it turns out though, I am still very much a full-time Mom. My position is shockingly secure.

There have been great times and rough times as well since then. I've made new friends that I feel I've known forever. I've grown as a person in even my own eyes. And, I've been tested, have stumbled, and have continued on. The last few months of my life have been something like the last chapter in a series of books that leaves you hanging. The kind of epilogue that answers some questions and at the same time makes you want to burn the book in front of the author.

This morning after dropping the girls off at their respective schools, I made one last trip to the other side of town, parked in the unsuspecting parking lot, and took the stairs to the second floor. One last time. I checked in and then waited. At 10:00, the door opened and I was greeted by a familiar face. One last time. She offered me something to drink and as always I passed. I lead the way into her office and took what I have come to feel is rightfully my spot on the black couch. I had one last chunk of time to sit across from this person who has watched me cry, yell, laugh, and 'get it' for the past 4 years. The list of previously, seemingly insurmountable things that she has walked me through and helped me to put away is both too long to go into and also insignificant. What is significant is the person I am today. I no longer starve myself, I don't feel hatred toward myself, I believe that my family is as fortunate to have me as I am to have them; I've found the balance in my world.

We talked for 50 minutes about nothing important alongside a conversation about guiding my girls through a life they will not only survive, but flourish in. She told me to acknowledge the scary things and then put them away. And where many times before it had felt as though someone had removed the batteries from the clock in order to keep me in that office for days at a time, this session felt like I blinked and it was over. Before I left, she hugged me and then just as my mom does when I cry while saying goodbye to her after a visit, she took my face in her hands and said, "I will always be here." And I know that she will. So, why is this so hard? Because, if I see her again, it means I've stumbled, or I've lost faith in my ability to do 'this'. If I don't see her again, it will be like meeting your guardian angel face to face and then walking away.

I am healthy because I busted my ass. I am alive because I discovered my own self-worth. I am part of my family because it's what I want. But, I was able to want, to survive, and to bust my ass because she showed me how.

I am going to live the next 60 years of my life as a healthy, crazy pain in all of your asses because of her! But, also because of cake...