My BG is three! She turned 3 in March. This is a recent photo of her picking strawberries at a local farm.

She is my pride and joy ❤❤❤

Let me tell you about what makes my kid so special…

She is very kind and thoughtful and gentle–she’ll give her friends a hug if they cry. She is always happy to help. She’s polite, always says please and thank you. She is very kind to our animals and treats them like family–I love watching her play with Koa puppy or softly pet Kitty.

She loves books! We love to read, and she has memorized some books (not word-for-word, but close enough) and will “read” them to me. She also loves to draw, paint, play playdoh, and do any sort of art project I can come up with. We have a vast selection of sidewalk chalk, so our sidewalk is never boring (word to the wise though–get rid of the black chalk because nothing good can come of it). I framed one of her recent paintings because I love it so much ❤

She can count to 20 orally (but doesn’t recognize the numbers yet). She can sing her ABC’s and can recognize her letters. She chatters non-stop and has started to ask A LOT of questions. She knows how to express her emotions and can be verrrry dramatic (which makes me laugh–she gets that from me). She has started to assert herself by saying “No!” and “I don’t want to!” when she does not agree with me. We argue and yell at each other and then we make-up–she’ll say “I’m sorry mommy, you not mad anymore?” and I’ll say “I’m sorry too and I’m not mad, are you mad?” and she’ll say no, and we’ll hug it out.

I let her watch a lot of cartoons, but they are all educational–no nickelodeon or cartoon network. She still loves Daniel Tiger (a perennial favorite) but she also likes Caillou (I don’t), Doc McStuffins, Clifford, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, Llama llama, Pinkalicious, and her newest obsession–Spirit. We watch movies too, and she loves Brave, Pete’s Dragon, Sing, How to Train Your Dragon, Polar Express, Frozen (yes, she sings “Let it Go” on repeat), Leap, Moana (my fav), Zootopia, Pets, and plenty of others. We do family movie night in bed on Friday and/or Saturday night, and we all love it ❤ We bought her a kids kindle tablet for Christmas, but she doesn’t play games on it very often, and I’m glad she isn’t interested in that and chooses to play pretend with her toys and play dress up, etc.

BG loves to dress up! She has plenty of princess dresses, ballet tutu’s, crowns, wands, wings, hats, plastic high heels (how are these even legal? but she loves them). I smile every time I hear the “clip clop clip clop” of her heels on the hardwood floor and look up to see her in full regalia with her crown, a floor-length princess dress with fluffy layers of sparkly tulle and a wand in-hand. There’s nothing better!

She’s literally off-the-charts tall. At her 3yr check up she measured 42 inches tall and the CDC chart for her age only goes up to 41 inches (no surprise as I am 5’9″ and her dad is 6’6″ tall). BG has excellent motor skills and hand/eye coordination, and this combined with her height and the fact that Mr. MLACS and I love sports and play sports with her nearly guarantees her future as an athlete. So far she goes to Little Gym, soccer and swimming, but I want her to try everything and find her niche–something(s) she loves.

Since we (finally) moved into our dream home and it has a big backyard, we put up a swingset with a slide for BG and also a very nice wooden playhouse adjacent to it. She loves playing in our backyard! We have her friends and neighbors over to play, too. We still go to parks, but not as often now that we have this great set up. We also bought her a nice bouncy house for her 3rd birthday, which delights her. BG got a minnie mouse bike with training wheels from Santa Claus and she is super fast on it! She is a good sport and wears her helmet too, even though most of the neighbor kids don’t wear them.

Oh here’s a BIG milestone–BG is potty trained! I was so stressed out about it but we’ve done it gradually and she really has the hang of it–she’s even pooping on the potty now! Not gonna lie, I bribed her with hatchimal toys, jewelry, candy, and whatever else I could coerce her with. But hey, it worked! She still wears pull-ups at night though, and 50/50 if she wakes up dry, mostly owing to her bedtime stall-tactic of saying “I’m thirsty mommy!” and then slowly drinking an entire glass of water just before bed 😏 She’s a smart little cookie.

I think BG is the most charming child ❤ She still loves to lay on us and cuddle–she rarely spends a full night in her own bed and usually ends up sleeping between us in our bed (we don’t mind). She loves dinosaurs and dragons as much as she loves twirly dresses and sparkly jewelry. She loves being barefoot and digging in the dirt. She loves chapstick and bubble baths. She gives and receives love constantly, fluidly–she is a conduit of love. And I love her with every fiber of my being. I love her with my heart and soul.

I love her endlessly, what more can I say?❤





Grief, Anxiety and Depression (and what I’m doing to heal)

I don’t know where to begin. I’ve been spiraling since my dad died.

I was just starting to get traction in my life after several years of of tumult. My health declining and autoimmune issues usurping my life and finances. Infertility and miscarriages. Mr. MLACS’s heart failure when I was 32 weeks pregnant. Being a new mother and deeply feeling the loss/void of my own beloved mother. Coping with Mr. MLACS being gone for work for weeks at a time. Overwhelming PPA (postpartum anxiety) and coming to terms with cutting off our toxic family members, including my dad (it took 2 years of weekly therapy and a lot of processing). Finally buying our first home–our dream home–only to have it burn down as we were packing to move. Moving to a very depressed area of Louisiana after the Great Flood of 2016, where I knew no one and felt like I didn’t belong.

Becoming ill and spending the entirety of 2017 fighting for my life with no support, because I was too sick to even ask for it. Feeling useless and hopeless at times.

Finally embracing the idea of a total colectomy surgery–having a prosthetic colon for the rest of my life. Finally about to move into my dream home.

And being deathly ill and having my husband drop dead at work, revived…but I am haunted by the way he looked and smelled like death in the ER. The nurses hearing me sob in the bathroom next to his bed in the ICU, as I sat on the toilet bleeding, desperately needing to be admitted myself but terrified to have my surgery because I was afraid I might die and orphan my child. My precious BG and my precious dog so sad and scared despite my best efforts to spare them the grief I felt. My heart was broken into a million pieces.

But I overcame everything. I beat infertility and I have the most precious daughter. I overcame PPA and came to terms with severing ties with my father. Mr. MLACS got a new job where he would be home every night. Our dream home was repaired. My surgery went well and I don’t need to take any IBD medications–I am not “chronically ill” anymore. My husband has a pacemaker/defibrillator and has taken responsibility for his health and lost a lot of weight. We moved into our dream house and I even bought my dream furniture.

I was making a comeback with my fitness, going to Burn Boot Camp and Barre3 classes and I volunteered as the organizer for a local moms fitness group–I was transparent about my ostomy. I was living my truth. I felt brave. I felt bold. I felt powerful. I felt beautiful. I felt like I was going to crush my goals.

And then my dad died.

And after everything I’ve been through–what I’ve overcome–and the fact that he wasn’t even a very good dad, you wouldn’t expect *that* to be the “straw that broke the camel’s back”.

But it was. I have been depressed and anxious. I can’t focus. I can’t think straight. I’m constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop.

I feel alienated from people. Lonely. Broken.

I’m angry because I fought SO. HARD. through the rock-bottom pit of hell that was 2017…

I had just started to feel safe. I wasn’t obsessing over the past or worrying about the future. I was living. I was embracing life. I was open to possibilities. I was all *positive vibes*.

But now I’m struggling again.

Dealing with my parents’ estate is torture. They were smart–everything was deeded to the trust. Every property, vehicle, trailer and boat. Nothing going to probate. Take heed and for all my IF friends who are parents now, make a will and/or trust so your spouse and kid(s) are not screwed when you die.

But my sister and I have never gotten along and now we are co-trustees and must divide everything in half. Meanwhile, there are 20-something properties that need to be managed and bills that need to be paid. And we have to fix up and sell “the big house” (our family home) to settle debts so we can dissolve the trust. It’s daily stress. It’s a daily reminder that both my parents are dead and that I am going to die. And BG is not tolerant of me being on my phone talking or texting, etc. She relentlessly pesters me and then has meltdowns when I snap at her. I can barely force myself to think about or do any of the drudgery associated with the estate, and with BG agitating me I feel like I might lose my mind. I need to put her in preschool and I have her enrolled in one but it doesn’t start until the fall. And I do not even have the stomach to vet preschools right now. I am looking at summer camps but that’s a week here-and-there. Oh and I dread having to take BG back to the midwest with me *without Mr. MLACS* to deal with this estate BS. F*ing nightmare. That is a 12hr car ride easch way, which I cannot do alone so I’ll have to split into 2 says–that is 4 days of travel. Just shoot me.

But I’m rich now. So there’s that. Not a “one percent-er” or filthy rich–like mansion/servants, car and driver, private plane and NY fashion week rich. But like, I will have a monthly income from my trust and it is legacy wealth that I can pass on to BG.

I’d give it all to have my Mom back though.

To have both my parents back, because our family was functionally-dysfunctional until my Mom got sick, which brought out the worst in my dad.

I’d give anything to be one big happy family.

I want peace in my life again. I want to feel like everything is going to be ok.

I am doing EFT tapping and trying to take care of myself, even though I don’t feel like showering or brushing my teeth or going to yoga or doing laundry or vacuming or anything. I’m sort of dead inside–dormant is a better word–I was starting to blossom but now I am dormant like a bulb in the winter. And I hate it.

So I am trying to claw my way out of this depression. I’m weak. I’m scared. I’m vulnerable. I’m confused. I’m frustrated. I’m emotionally drained. I’m distraught. I’m burdened. I’m defensive. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m apathetic. I’m literally tied in knots and seeing a new chiropractor to try to unclench and untwist my poor body.

But I haven’t given up hope yet. And I’m trying to get better.