I can't believe how much my perspective has changed in the last five years. Between moving to (super expensive) California, having FIVE kids (in eight years), being totally anxious and depressed, racking up (and paying off) tons of debt, and dealing with other family problems... I've had a lot on my plate.

But I feel like the good news is... I've gone from being completely stressed out (and trying to keep up with the Jones's) to being pretty chill (despite the crazy three ringed circus around me.)  I used to stress and obsess about everything from perfectly coordinating home décor to living my religion perfectly.

I used to try to be perfect.

But I can't do that anymore.

So I don't.

I still have to fight perfectionism every. single. day. But I try to give myself a break (sometimes.)

And life is much better.

THIS ISN'T IT

Hi! I'm back! 

So, here's the BIG NEWS:

LAST WEEK I TURNED 35.

Okay, okay, I know you're like, "Big deal! Chillax, girl. Thirty-five isn't THAT OLD!"

But LISTEN, my friend... Even though my HEAD knows thirty five isn't "that old", my heart feels ANCIENT... and my body just ACHES.

I'M. SO. TIRED!

Maybe thirty five isn't "that old" but... well... I kinda had a (mini) midlife crisis leading up to it. 

I mean, is it just me, or does every day in your mid-thirties feel like Groundhog Day? Every morning (and all through the night) I wake up to some little person demanding something. The kids are CONSTANTLY fighting. I'm ALWAYS nagging. Someone is ALWAYS making a mess. Someone is ALWAYS hungry (or thirsty). Someone peed their pants (again)... And I haven't had a good night's sleep in TEN FRIKIN' YEARS!!!

There's always more laundry and a huge pile of dishes. There are toys to pick up. There's pee (and occasionally poo) on the toilet seat. There's always something broken that demands fixing. 

Oh yeah, and then there's the homework... and practice... and cub scouts... and football games... and church assignments...

I try to stretch, scrimp, and save and I keep an eagle eye on my bank account.. BUT at the end of the month I'm not much closer to a new car or a new house or a trip to Hawaii. 

My body is trashed with stretch marks EVERYWHERE. EVERY calorie counts. My teeth are still crooked... My butt is still fat... And... I'm getting WRINKLES! 

So... for the past few months, as I reflected on my current situation, I couldn't help but ask myself, "IS THIS REALLY IT?"

"IS THIS REALLY THE LIFE I CHOSE?"

"ARE THESE SERIOUSLY THE PEOPLE I HAVE TO LIVE WITH FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE?"

"If it's all downhill from here, then what the heck is the rest of my life going to be like?"

It all seemed pretty bleak. Certainly nothing worth celebrating.

But, as I tried to plan my exit strategy (a one way plane ticket to Canada? Or Australia perhaps?) I had this little flicker of hope. One week Will slept through the night. Then, the next week, I got to leave the house during the day by myself (and not just to buy groceries.)  

I started to wonder, MAYBE this doesn't have to be IT. Maybe things will get (a tiny bit) easier.

I'm not going to lie, I don't want to face the next couple of years. The next two or three years will probably suck (at least some of the time). 

But I'm OVER HALF WAY done with sleepless nights, with potty training, and with kids at home all day every day. I'm almost done with Cailou, carrying a baby on my hip, kids wiping their snotty noses and sticky hands on my shirt, and with cleaning up spilled juice every. single. day.

And just the thought of OVER HALF WAY DONE is SO liberating. 

Now, when the kids are screaming at each other in the back seat and the baby is crying I tell myself over and over, "This ISN'T IT!" 

I picture us going on vacation without a baby crying the whole time and I think, "THIS ISN'T IT!" I picture us going to Disneyland without a double stroller and diaper bag and I think, "THIS ISN'T IT!" And I picture me leaving the kids with Drew for two hours so I can take a break and I think, "THIS ISN'T IT!"

 

Maybe it is all downhill from here... but maybe downhill is good. (Like... coasting.)

I think I can manage 35.

Thanks for listening.

Hey, 

I miss you.

Sometimes I want to talk to you. I wish I had a day to sit with you and tell you all my stories. It would be such a relief  to tell SOMEONE  the whole truth. Not just the messy, tired, life-with-five-kids stuff, but also the really heartbreaking stuff... The heavy, dark, secret journey I've traveled for the past five years. You'd have a hard time believing it. It's all been so ironic and bitter and strange. On the outside I've been tight-lipped and poker-faced... but there were nights when I wondered if my heart would literally stop.

I think the hardest battles we face in life are the ones we can't talk about... EVER. The most tragic stories of our lives are the ones we  keep locked in our hearts and take to the grave.

The good news is last year things started to get better, and they are getting better still. And I can't believe how much I've grown. And how much perspective and empathy I've gained through it all. I hope I never forget the life lessons I've learned. You literally NEVER know what hell a person is going through from the outside. Not even your closest family. I used to judge people with messy lives, but now I remind myself that you really never know. I used to judge people who made bad  decisions... but now I know sometimes it's just a few steps in the wrong direction and suddenly you're way off course. It can be a roller coaster trying to get your life  back on track. 

But, like I said, it's been over a year and I can feel myself getting stronger now, my life getting more balanced. It feels so good. I remembered a bunch of things I used to love and I'm actually doing them! I'm walking and running outside in the sunshine (and sometimes in the rain), dancing, singing, listening to music, and even playing music again. I'm sleeping more, reading more, riding my bike more, getting outside my comfort zone more. 

I know this isn't the end of the bad stories,, but I'm grateful for a little sunlight peeking through the clouds. I'm going to try to bask in the sun while it's here.

Anyway, thanks for listening. You're such a good listener. Miss you.

XOXO,

Leah

Someone recently told me that I should be a more positive mother. 

Sigh.

I know I should be more patient and positive with the kids. I know I should but, HOLY CRAP, when I'm going on 4 or 5 hours of sleep, and they're all crying and SCREAMING and yelling at me, and fighting with each other, and then Owen pours syrup on the couch and Lil unrolls an ENTIRE roll of toilet paper into the toilet and Lucy head-butts my lip and pulls out a chunk of my hair, and then Owen breaks a pen and wipes his inky-hands on my 32 year-old herloom baby blanket (yes, this all just happened in the last half hour) sometimes I yell (or cry, or over-react, or tell them they're driving me crazy). Yes, half the time I'm not a positive mom and honestly half the time I HATE being a mom.

It's a really hard job. Especially when they're all so little.

Is there a pill I can take (a happy mommy pill)? Why isn't there a free service for burned-out moms where we can just drop our kids off somewhere safe and take a 20 minute power nap?

The funny thing is, apparently I've had enough melt downs to scare my oldest, Drew into occasionally behaving and being thoughtful.

After the above-mentioned frustrating nap-less afternoon, Drew brought me a glass of water with a straw, made my bed and then knelt down and said a prayer that I "wouldn't have a nervous breakdown."

I may be damaging these children (or maybe I'm just preparing them all to be therapists... They'll have a lot of experience with crazy once they leave this house) but I just don't know how ANYONE can be patient and positive in such a hostile environment. 

Anyway, I'm trying. Trying to be positive. Trying not to go nuts. Trying to stay sane. Trying to make their childhoods as fun and happy and organic and wholesome and creative as possible. 

And maybe it's okay that I'm not perfect. 

The Truth

Hey there, Blog.

It's been a while. I haven't been writing. Sorry. Life is chaotic and more difficult than ever. 

I wish I could tell you life is great and we're all happy. I wish I could post pictures of our happy family at the beach frolicking in the waves and tell you how much we love living in California. 

But the truth is, I'm still having a hard time here. Things are getting better, for sure. I don't dream of killing myself every night like I did the first few months here. 

We've had some really happy days and every day the kids make me smile or laugh at least once. We're (veeeeerrry sllloowwllyy) making friends and the kids seem to be doing great in school and at  church.

When I'm at home with the kids, locked safely in our little house, I usually feel secure and happy. Despite the messes and the fights and the crying, I usually enjoy being home with my little ones. But I have so much anxiety when I leave the house. I hate taking the kids anywhere because I'm so afraid of what people will think and say and do to the children and me. Even dropping Drew off at school stresses me out.

And every time I think about our future in California, I feel so hopeless and dark. I've never felt lost for so long, unsure of what to do or where to live or where to be. I feel like I've been walking in the dark for 10 months. 

I miss feeling like my life will improve. I miss feeling like something good is just around the corner. I miss feeling like I am doing the right thing. I miss feeling like God is with me and on my side. I miss faith and I miss hope.

I'm not writing all this to make you worry; so please don't worry. It will all work out someday, somehow. But right now it's not that great. 

Sorry, but that's the truth.

To be continued.

Is This the Little Girl I Carried?

And then sometimes I look at my little girl, and Sunrise, Sunset plays over and over and over in my head...

She's growing up too fast.

Is it Bed Time Yet?

Today at two o'clock Lily peed her pants in the driveway and then cried. Then at three, she unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper in the toilet and then cried. Then at four she smeared peanut butter all over her legs and feet and the carpet and when I tried to wash it off she cried. Then at five Drew wouldn't let her in his fort so she hit him and then she cried...

I wonder what she'll do at six o'clock?

When Drew was four I thought four-year-old boys were THE WORST!

I was wrong. It's four-year-old girls. Because they do everything four year-old boys do but then THEY CRY ABOUT IT!

Oh yeah, and two (almost three) year-old boys are pretty bad too.

Owen's new favorite past time is filling the bathroom sink with water and then squirting/pouring in all my make-up, hair products, toothpaste, and soap. 

He and Lily have been working together today, "decorating" the walls with crayon, emptying the apple juice and ketchup bottles onto the kitchen floor, and scattering the clean laundry from the baskets around the house. 

While I was typing this, they dumped half a box of Cheerios onto the carpet. 

Bedtime cannot come soon enough.

Lonely

My mom (and brother and sister-in-law) watched my kids all day today so I could rest up and get over my flu bug. It was nice to take (not one but) TWO naps... And it was nice to have a little peace and quiet for a few hours... But after a few hours of peace and quiet I felt something I haven't felt in years... 

I FELT LONELY! 

LONELY IS AN AWFUL FEELING!

So I went and picked up the kids. 

And I am no longer lonely. 

Though my life is chaotic and loud and messy and smelly and stressful and busy and CRAZY with my four little hoodlums... 

At least I'm not lonely.

Being lonely stinks.

Bitter Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is usually my favorite holiday because, between the greedy-candy-grabbing of Halloween and the greedy-present-grabbing of Christmas, Americans are SUPPOSED TO STOP THE GREEDY-GRABBING-MADNESS... And we're SUPPOSED to try to be happy with what we have.

I have to confess I've had a hard time feeling thankful this Thanksgiving season. I've been ungrateful... and maybe even greedy. Actually, I've been kind of bitter this Thanksgiving season... and I know it's my own fault! 

I mean, normally November means I take time every day to write down SOMETHING I'm thankful for. But this November, with all the daily kid-butt-wiping, baby-diaper-changing, pb&j-sandwich-making, filthy-clothes-washing, sticky-floor-mopping, cluttered-Lego-clearing, evening-homework-threatening, and middle-of-the-night-nursing... I made the justification that I just didn't have time to write anything down.

So, instead of being thankful I've been bitter. Today I spent the whole morning feeling sorry for myself because I don't have a housekeeper (like all my neighbors.)

But seriously?! I AM AN IDIOT!

Someone smack me:)

I am healthy! I have a happy, healthy family! I live in the best country in the world! I own a house! I have money in my bank account and I have food in my refrigerator!

(Mmmmmm. Food.)

And, you know, that's all I really need ... and more. 

So I'll try again tomorrow to write something down. 

And I'll try not to worry about the housekeeper. Because, really, housekeeping is an awesome work out... Especially around here. 

And it's no fun to be bitter on Thanksgiving! 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! 

(I'm feeling SO much better already!)

Arg!

Facebook and Instagram were kind of interesting... Until everyone started posting selfies! 

Arg! My newsfeed is jam packed with selfies! I can't take it anymore!

I think I'll just hang out here by myself on the blog for a little while.

Phew. That's better.

Pizza

For some reason I grew up thinking I could order a baby like I order pizza. I thought when my rich, physician-husband finally set up his private practice, and when I was finally settled into my own perfect, flexible career (complete with great insurance and six months maternity leave) I could place my perfect baby order. 

I would order a healthy, happy, well-behaved little baby girl, with dark curls, bright blue eyes, and long, dark eyelashes. And the stars would align. And immediately I would conceive. And after nine months of pickles and ice cream, the delivery doc would hand me my pain free, problem free, precious little bundle, right on schedule. 

I would take my perfect baby home to her perfect nursery in her perfect designer baby clothes and raise her perfectly. Then, in exactly three years, when my body recovered and when baby one started preschool, I would place my order for perfect baby two. This time I would order a boy. 

But babies aren't pizza.

And life is far from perfect. 

And God doesn't take orders. (Or deliver in 30 minutes or less.)

Babies come when they're ready to come, and when they need to come, and when God wants them to come.

---

When I got married I was only 24 and my husband and I were both still in school. We were starving students, working part-time making seven dollars an hour (without insurance) while we finished our degrees. We lived in the ghetto of Provo across the street from illegal Mexican drug-dealers. 

We were a long way from my dreams of our perfect family, and there were a lot of things I wanted (and thought I needed) to do before we could even think about kids.

Lucky for me, I married Garrit. And lucky for me, God had other plans.

Shortly after our honeymoon, Garrit started to talk about babies. 

The closer I got to graduation, the more he talked, and one day I finally conceded. Maybe we could have baby one a little before schedule, I thought. I just stopped taking birth control pills and, miraculously, two months later we were pregnant.

---

Fast forward nine (insurance-free) stressful but exciting months. 

Medicaid covered the expenses of baby one's birth. Garrit graduated college and got a crappy job babysitting teenagers while he applied for grad school. 

We were still poor. We both had our bachelors degrees but Garrit needed a masters. There was still a lot to do. And I didn't want to order another baby until he had a job and we had careers, and a house, and insurance.

---

Fast forward again seven years (two and a half years unemployed in grad school, and four and a half years at crappy jobs with terrible insurance).

We FINALLY graduated (me with my bachelors and him with his masters),  and he is FINALLY on the path to a good career, and we FINALLY have a house... 

And every night I tuck my FOUR sleeping stinkers into their beds and thank God I didn't wait for life to be perfect before we ordered started our family. 

---

Yes getting pregnant again... and again... and again... with hardly any money and without health insurance was stressful... but we made it work.

After my first child, the babies just came when they came. It wasn't ever planned and it wasn't ever perfect. And I don't regret any of it.

---

I'm not saying every couple should have kids right away, or have as many children as close together as we did. 

I'm just saying I'm so I'm glad we didn't wait until life was perfect. Because it never will be. 

And I'm glad we didn't wait until I was finished with my to-do's. Because my list is never ending. 

---

In the end, through the stress, and the surprises, and the prayers and the faith and the miraculous births of my four miraculous children, I've come to know and trust God. And as I stopped trying to control my life and make things perfect, I learned God is in control and He has something else in mind for us all. 

Thank goodness I can't order babies like I order pizza.

A Happy Ending

This morning I wanted to get things done. I wanted to get things done SO BAD! I spent all WEEK planning the things I would check off my list once Saturday rolled around. 

But instead of doing the dishes this morning, I spent my morning consoling crying Lucy after Lily pushed her over onto the tile floor.

And instead of giving Drew a quick haircut, I spent over an hour chasing him all over the house with the buzzers and scissors, yelling at him to, " JUST SIT DOWN!"

I never did finish his haircut.

And instead of cleaning the garage, I cleaned up Halloween candy and wrappers all morning. (Drew is an AMAZING treasure-hunter. He found the hidden loot and ate most of the bag.)

Oh yeah, and speaking of candy...

Instead of vacuuming this morning, the kids had a Lord-of-the-Flies-style-Halloween-candy-mutney, so I spent my morning breaking up the fights and saving the younger children from impending doom. 

(Here are the " littluns" trapped in a cage by the "bigun".)

I did a lot of swearing this morning when Owen kept trying to take EVERYTHING out of the fridge and pour it on the floor. 

But then...

We left.

We left the house and the dishes and the haircut and the messy garage and the candy wrappers and sticky mess outside the refrigerator and the the check list...

And we went to Santa Barbara. 

And the terrible morning turned into a happy ending. 

Here are the pictures:)

And we lived happily ever after...

Until tomorrow morning. (Because now I have to clean up AND get the kids ready for church in the morning.)

*Loooong Siiiiigh*

Goodnight!

Cool Stuff with Old Friends

What is the thing I miss most about living in Utah? 

I. Miss. My. FRIENDS!!! 

Sniff, sniff.

Thankfully, we live close to cool stuff...  So our friends come to visit sometimes.

They come to see the cool stuff, and we trick them into hanging out with us:)

We had a lovely time with these two, eating and talking and acting like 12 year-olds at City Walk.

Who wants to come see the cool stuff (and play with us) next?

Friendly Passengers

Don't you love it when your kids get along? (At least for long enough for you to take a picture?)

This one's from the train at the Santa Barbara Zoo earlier this month.

Aren't they cute?

Pet Petting and Pumpkin Picking

For a girl who doesn't really care for pumpkins or candy or Halloween... I've sure been spending a lot of time at the pumpkin patch, eating candy, and taking my kids to these EXPENSIVE Halloween-themed-parent-traps. Sigh. The things we do for our kids:) 

I think the kids had fun at this one. Here are the pics.

Dad and Mom, however, didn't have as much fun.

Haha. 

Lesson learned.

Happy pumpkin picking, everyone!

Cornbelly's

When it comes to corn mazes, pumpkin patches, hayrides, and Halloween, UTAH DOESN'T MESS AROUND!

We had a great time at Cornbelly's Corn Maze this weekend. Here are the pics.

Our Old Utah House

Today the kids said goodbye to their old Utah house. 

At first I didn't love our old Utah house. At first it was just... well... OLD... with chipped white formica, stained linoleum, gold, dated EVERYTHING, and ugly, dog-urine-soaked blue carpet. 

Actually, at first, I kinda hated that old Utah house.

But then we got to work. We tore down and re-built, we drywalled and sanded and primed and painted and cut and nailed and caulked and tore up and replaced and refinished and reworked and tiled and plumbed and weeded and planted...

And then, at the very end, I LOVED it! I loved that Utah house! 

I mean, what's not to love? It's SO CUTE on the inside. And it's in a PERFECT location, with a GREAT backyard, and AWESOME neighbors.

Sigh. 

So, it was hard to say goodbye today.

But we can't live in two states at once. 

And we can't pay two mortgages any more. 

So, we're renting it. 

I'm glad we came to Utah to meet the new tenants. They're awesome.

I think they'll love our old Utah house. 

Green Mom

Being the mother of these four little kids (ages seven, four, two, and eight months) sure helps me remember the things that matter most...

Yes, yes, I sure do remember those things that matter most... BECAUSE THEY ARE THE THINGS I NEVER DO!!!

You know, those things at the bottom of Maslow's pyramid... I don't do any of those things these days. I don't do the eating, or sleeping, or getting dressed, or exercising, or taking a shower, or going outside. 

The good news is, I'm very Eco-friendly now.

I don't ever eat out, so I use less plastic, packaging, and energy.

In fact, my diet of leftover peanut butter and jelly crusts and half eaten string cheese has reduced landfill waste by 300 pounds this year.

I don't sleep at night which makes me SO empathetic to the plight of endangered nocturnal animals like the Blue Sided Tree Frog, New Zealand Kiwi Bird, and Wooly Flying Squirrel. I'm TOTALLY donating Garrit's next paycheck to the NWF.

I don't shower, so I use WAY less water! And I don't have time to drink water! Sometimes I even forget to brush my teeth, so, WOW! I am good at saving water!

I frequently fall asleep in my clothes, and then I wander around the house in the same grubby t-shirt and leggings for days. Just think of all the water I am saving by like NEVER washing my clothes!

I seldom bathe my children or wash their clothes either! Boy oh boy I am GREAT at saving water!

I don't go to the gym so I am saving TONS of energy. I don't need a gym because, well, I am always sweating as I try to wrestle the scissors and knives out of my children's hands. 

And I NEVER leave the house. I'm always here because someone is always taking a nap... And it's always NOT me!

I am so Eco-friendly I might actually LITERALLY be turning green. 

Aren't you proud?

...

But seriously, it's crazy around here. I miss the things that matter most...

Selfies

Drew taught Lily how to use the camera on my phone. Now she always has my phone, and she's always taking pictures! As of tonight, I think I have 1,000 Lily selfies on my camera roll. I should probably tell her to stop... But some of the pictures she takes are HILARIOUS! And some of the pictures she takes are, well, priceless. I'm happy that, at this moment in her life, she thinks she is worthy of so much storage space. I love that girl.

Party in the LBC!

I love these humans. 

For his birthday, Garrit went to Utah to watch the BYU vs Utah football game and when he got back we spent the day in Long beach doing this...

And this...

And this...

And this...

And this...

And this...

And this...

And this...

And finally this...

This was my favorite part...

Such a fun birthday!