I despise Monday. This Monday at least. I’m not really a fan of any Monday’s though.

-This morning, I woke up at 3am with horrible nightmares. The kind that scare me so bad, it then takes me two hours to fall back asleep. Then my son woke me up an hour later.

-I hate that my boss has this one thing that I managed to forget to do, so now I’m on her shit list. It’s not even like it’s a real thing. It doesn’t matter. It has nothing to do with the job. It’s her green M&M. You guys know that story right? The rock star who wrote into their contract that they wanted a bowl of M&M’s with all the green ones removed. It wasn’t like they cared about the green M&M, it was just a way to see how well one read the contract. It’s dumb. I am a great employee. I’m fast and efficient…but I don’t have time for her stupid green M&M.

-I hated leaving my son at daycare this morning. We only had two days together. They’ve been gone for two weeks. He was a clingy mess all weekend. I know he was fine the second I left. I know it because he is him and because I called to make sure. But leaving a screaming toddler is not how I wanted to start my morning.

-I hated leaving my girls at camp this morning. One clingy, the other quietly crying. It broke my dam heart.

-I feel like a moron. I’ve forgotten my allergy meds for two days. I itch so bad, I can barely stand it. My hands are huge and and feet itch. I just want to scratch my dam skin off.

-I read a post this morning. A post that made me realize I was a pain in the ass at BH. I want to email the person and say I’m sorry, I didn’t think about how hard that weekend was for you. But I don’t know if then, I’m just even more annoying than I’m sure I was then.

-I hate that my dam sprinklers are on again. Sixth time in two days. They are set wrong. I don’t know how to set them right. That is obvious. I’ll need to call someone else to do it. Or beg my ex.

Mostly though? I just hate Monday.

Anyone else care to share? Make me feel a bit less alone.

First, hi. I’ve missed you all. I’ve missed my little spot over here this past week.

I had the most amazing four days. Truly. I figure, since I’m me…and I’m completely exhausted…I’ll make you all a short list of reasons why I will be at next years conference.

1. I have the greatest friends in the entire world. People like my roomies Kari and Stacey who make me feel like I’ve known them forever. People who I can’t imagine my life without. People who I was so incredibly sad to leave after four days. I am already planning out how to get to San Diego just to spend more time with them. This is why I will be there. To see them. To hug them. To spend days talking to them.

2. I met some of the most amazing people ever. Jill, Jodi, Betsy, Maggie, Kim, Jessi, Kat. I know there are so many people I will be forgetting….please to be forgiving me. But hugging in person, people who you talk to daily? Is just a huge reason I do this every year. People who crack you up. People who make you think. People who make you feel okay about continuing to do this. People who help you remember why you stay in this crazy online world, despite the drama that goes on. Each year the group is a bit different, but it so far has made me realize, it’s just a chance to spend time with new people.

Meeting people who you immediately wonder how you’d never run across them in the community. People like Lisa. Wendi. People who are so nice and funny and genuine and you wonder how in the world you haven’t been following them this whole time.

Finally meeting people who you’ve talked to for years but never gotten to meet before. Liz, Kristen, Carmen.

Meeting all of those people? So worth my trip.

Seeing, hugging, eating with people you already know? It’s why I keep doing this.

3. Meals that somehow just work out. Meals with ten people. Four who you invited, four more who others invited, two who you managed to pick up in the lobby. Meals that were planned by basically inviting people and then inviting more people, until you get the random amazing group who ends up going. Because we all know, people are busy. People are trying to fit everything in. Meals, where it’s great whoever shows up. Meals, that you aren’t wanting to end. Because the conversations are so stimulating. So fun. So entertaining. It makes it worthwhile. It makes you trip. Inpromtu brunches and lunches and dinners at new restaurants? Are why I do this.

By the way? Serendipity? A life goal I have now accomplished. Frozen hot chocolate? Worth the airfare to NYC alone.

4. Watching your friend give a phenomenal keynote and watching all the other amazing people up there share their words, their stories.

5. Late night conversations in bed the last night. Sharing secrets, sharing stories, catching up with your friends after the lights are off. When after 2am, someone finally says, no matter how late we stay up, we still have to leave tomorrow, so maybe we should get a bit of sleep.

6. Sparklecorn. MamaPop managed to out-do themselves this year. I love that party. In fact? It was the only one I actually managed to attend. I would like to RSVP for next year. Like now. Can I do that please? Tracey? Amy? What do you say? Ha. You all did an amazing job with that party. I can’t even imagine how much work went into it. DUDE!!!! That cake. So good.

I tried to get to other parties. Something about BlogHer though? You just have to go with the flow. The flow for me this year? Was just have fun. Not feel stressed. There’s just no way to do it all.

7. Conversations about you. Yes you. You too. Oh and you, hidden in the back. We talk about you. In good ways. We talk about friends we wish were there. Best friends who weren’t able to make it. People we met last year. People we love. Blogs we adore. Blogs we read every day. We talk about how we wish you could all make it next year. How we sometimes want to hug every person who is lovely in our comments, especially on hard posts. We talk about you. We remember you. We miss you.

8. Hearing a friend, someone who you adore say: I was ready to be done. But this has helped me see, I’m not done. That makes it all worth it.

9. A day spent wandering New York with one of your best friends.

10. Seeing a new city. It really is a fun thing to explore a city you’ve never been too. I’d never seen NYC. I have been to San Diego many, many times. But exploring it with my friends next year? Will be awesome.

BlogHer 10 was amazing. I loved it. I did what I wanted. Enjoyed my friends. Saw a new city. Had an absolute blast. I am sure there was drama, but I wasn’t involved in any of it and I’m not willing to give it the time of day. BlogHer is what you make of it. I made my BlogHer experience a great one. The staff of BlogHer did a fabulous job and I want to thank them.

So, yes…I will be at BlogHer11 in San Diego.

We are playing some perverse game of musical beds in my house. It has to stop, I am just not sure how to stop it.
It started out all innocently. See, when Harrison was born, we had a scare in the hospital. Nothing big, but scary enough that I was a neurotic mess the night he came home from the hospital. When the choice came to put him in his crib, I hedged. The girls had always slept in their cribs. But that was a different time and I was a different me. So….I brought him to bed with me. Logan raised his eyebrows at me, but didn’t say a word. It just sort of worked. Harrison was a great sleeper as an infant.

Fast forward about nine months and he stopped being a pleasant bed baby. We transitioned him into sleeping in the crib. Which worked out okay. However? He’s not a great sleeper. At nearly two years old (Sigh. When did that happen?) he still wakes up and cries out for me a couple times a night. He’s lost his bink. He’s gotten caught up in his blankie in a way he doesn’t like. He…well whatever, he just doesn’t sleep through the night. Or he won’t and he screams, which isn’t pleasant for me or his sleeping sisters. However? In January when Logan moved out, I started going to get him when he woke up. Bringing him into bed with me. Partially because listening to him cry, made me weep. Partially because I already wasn’t sleeping, so what did it matter.

Also, Bailey has pretty much slept with me non-stop since January. I put her to bed in her bed. Most nights at least. However, as soon as I leave the room, she gets up, takes her blankies and goes and gets in my bed. Two or three hours later, when I go to bed, I’m not willing to move her, so I generally leave her.

I don’t mind her in my bed. She’s like the perfect sleep buddy. She rarely moves. She barely makes a peep. She’s cuddly. I do mind Harrison in my bed though. Yet, I don’t seem to be able to stop it.

Reality is, it’s hard to say no at 2am. I know he wants me. He knows he wants me. I am weak. It’s hard, this single parent gig. Some people do it non-stop. I don’t. We share custody. But still, there are three of them and one of me. at night, when I’m tired? I loose the will power to be strong.

I am also very, very tired. He’s rolly. He’s like a baby steam roller. He’s a blanket thief. I don’t even think I can explain to you what happens to the sheets. He’s insane. He’s a toddler blanket dictator. Bailey and I wake up shivering. He kicks too. Some mornings, I play, where are my children. It’s a fun game. Where fun equals weird.

This is a night/morning example from a few days ago: (I copied it out of a chat with Liz from last week.)
At midnight maybe, Bailey came into bed with me. At 1am Harrison woke up.

I brought him into bed with me. At 3am  I know Bailey got up and went to the bathroom, at 6:45am I woke up, I was alone. Went to see where my children all were, can only assume Bailey got tired of Harrison kicking and left. She was on the couch. Maybe Harrison went to sleep with Morgan for some ungodly reason, because that’s where he was. He Probably kicked her too many times she got up and slept in Bailey ’s bed? Is insane. No fucking wonder I am so tired today.

Yeah. That was a few days ago. Last night? I slept with the little two in my bed. I woke up on the edge, with Bailey basically huddled right next to me…probably for warmth, since Harrison had stolen all of the covers.

Is it a wonder that I’m tired all the freaking time? I should know how to do this. But I don’t. It’s hard to break a habit that I started. I never started it with the girls. The reason Bailey sleeps with me, is solely because she was just too sad when her dad and I separated and needed me. She may still, which is why I’m not willing to kick her out of my bed yet.

I feel bad that I’m okay with her in my bed, but not him.

He’s gotta go. I just don’t know how to be a hard ass at night. I’m great at it during the day. At night though? I’m a big ole wuss and he knows it.

Halp? Any ideas? Tell me I’m not alone. Please someone. Anyone?

I woke up this morning in a fog. Part of it is that I’ve not been sleeping. Last night I actually slept all night. For possibly the first time in weeks. I’m not sure why it means I woke up more tired, but I did. I’ve had coffee and it’s 10:30am and I still could just sleep. For a week. Please and thank you.

Part of it is me. My head. I’m just in a funk today. I haven’t managed to shake it yet. I’m not depressed. Not really. Maybe not yet. But it’s there. I feel it. Hanging out. Trying to get cozy and comfy. I’m trying to shake it off, but so far no go. I feel uber-sensitive. I feel like I shouldn’t even talk to my best friends, because I’m likely to say something stupid. Likely to be too needy and god knows none of them need that right now. That nothing I say is going to be worthwhile. See: questioning everything.

It’s been a few decent weeks. A few weeks of sun. Of weekend trips out of town. Of mini-golf with Morgan, kite flying with Bailey and finding polly-pollys with Harrison. Weeks of watermelon and ice cream. Weeks of my head being less crazy.

The depression though? Sucks. I wish I could turn it off. I wish it wasn’t here, as a constant reminder that I’m not strong enough. Sometimes I think it’s just me. That I’m too much of a drama queen. That I’m getting caught up in the crazy in my own head. But hey, that’s part of it too.

I get up every single day and do everything I need to do. Without fail. I work. I take care of my kids. I play Frisbee with my dog. My house is mostly clean. My bills get paid on time. Laundry gets done. Maybe not put away, but whatever. It’s there and clean and folded.

It never goes away though. Never fully. I have great days, great hours, great moments. Then it’s back. Making me sad and lonely and wanting to curl up in a ball and sleep. Of course, when I’m like this, I stop being able to sleep, which makes it worse.

When I feel like this, I question everything I say. Or do. For fear of seeming crazy. Or unstable. Which you all may think, I have no idea. I’m not, I promise. I’m just a person whose life has changed drastically. I’m still flailing around in the water, so to speak. I haven’t learned to swim yet. Maybe I need floaties?

I start apologizing for everything. I said in someones comments this morning, that I apologize for apologizing for something that I only thought. My friend Liz is constantly telling me that I don’t need to say I’m sorry for things I NEVER EVEN SAID. That no one can read my thoughts.

I’m a really awesome friend, I assure you.

My best friends. Man they are amazing. They won’t let me go. They hold me up, let me cry, hold my hand and let me say everything that is in my head no matter how crazy it is.  They make jokes, help me remember to breath and distract me. Then one of them carefully re-applies the duct tape that had slipped off.

I try. I try so dam hard. But it comes back. No matter what I do, it always comes back. It’s never enough.

I write in the moment. You can probably tell by all of the spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts. I write in the moment. I write to get the words out of my head. I write what I need to say and then I post it. If it’s hard to write it, I am likely to not even re-read it before I hit post. I should, this I know, but I don’t. Sometimes I just can’t.

Part of it, makes me real. It’s what keeps some of you coming back. I am honest and raw and very emotional. At least on this blog. It’s like I open up my head, shake out my thoughts on this page and don’t look back. It helps me in life, to be able to remove some of these thoughts in this space. You get me, here in this space. The real me. The honest, sometimes crazy, sometimes a mess, me. I have been told by some that it’s a great thing. I’ve been told by others it is what will keep me from making it as a blogger. Whatever that means.

It’s also what leaves me open and vulnerable. So much so, that on occasion I can’t even read the comments. I normally do. There have been times where I haven’t. Those I keep for later. Sometimes? Later doesn’t come.

Right now? It’s keeping me from writing. I have a lot of things I want to say. However, I don’t know that I should. I don’t feel like I can. I open and close this page. Have for a week now. I believe I have caused my share of drama for the year. My quota has been filled and I’m done.

Posting may be light around here, until I find my sea legs again. A space that used to feel so safe, now feels not so safe. I always knew my words could be used against me, but I now find myself unsure how to speak at all. I feel stifled.