I’ve been quiet around here.  We’ve had a rough month.  This week has been even more so.  I haven’t talked about it much but we are going through a really difficult time with Taryn.  Having two blogs has been hard on me this last month.  I don’t know why, but I’m not sure what to post where.  So, I’ve just been quiet.  Cause I’ve been overwhelmed.  Her sensory issues are not only back, it feels like they exploded.  We do know why, but that doesn’t make it easier or her or any of us really.  We are doing everything we can to heal her, we are detoxing her, and working on healing her leaky gut and curing her allergies.  Getting it all out and getting the gut fixed is HARD.  She’s working for it, so are we.  But I am bound and determined to get this child well, just like that one up there above.  I strongly believe that sensory issues are directly related to toxins.  When I was detoxing, I couldn’t handle noise, I had anxiety, I felt like Taryn is acting.  It was so hard, and I’m an adult that can understand and rationalize it all.  The timing of it all is intentional.  I think God knew I needed to go through it first so I could empathize and relate and help my girl.  The good news is, that her allergies are healing, slowly, but surely.  Our days and evenings have been long and challenging.  But this is temporary and then she’s going to be this amazingly healthy little person with a lifetime of good health in front of her.  I just know it.  We will beat the sensory issues…we did it with Teagan…we can do it with her too, I’m certain of it.  She’s back in OT full time again, we’re doing everything we can to support her nervous system in every way that we can.  But at night, when the day is done, I feel like I just need to take a bunch of deep breaths.  It’s been exhausting.

And then this week, my car broke down.  My beloved (don’t scoff haters) minivan.  Unfortunately, it’s not an easy fix to the tune of $4,000.  Yes, thousaaaaaand.  OMG.  Talk about sinking our family with one big swift kick to the gut.  I’ve been in denial all week.  Especially since I hate driving Jason’s tiny little Jetta.  Yes, I can’t stand that car.  Probably because it won’t fit all 5 of us with two carseats in the back.  Want to go somewhere?  Ok, someone stay home or we’ll make two trips back and forth to get everyone there.  That’s awesome.  Our crazy schedules and 3 kids in 3 different schools and carpools and OT and football and and and….we are not a one car kind of family.  I want my van back.  The one with the comfy seats and the cupholders and the dvd player.  I want all the room and the sliding doors and good radio that plays something other than static political news channels.

Apparently, I came here to whine.

I guess this is why I’ve been quiet.

I’ve been telling myself about 10 times a day that God is putting me exactly where he wants me to be.  I didn’t need to be in my van for some reason this week.  I needed a different schedule, a different route, a different worry, a different focus.  There was a need for this, maybe it’s not to be known, but there is a reason.  And it will work out.  This is me trying to be positive.  Cause no one likes a whiner.  I know, whining children drive me crazy daily.

Ok, if I tell you a funny story, that will balance out the whining right?


This morning, I went in to the kitchen after all the kids were in school and started to empty out two big crockpots of bone broth (we use it for gut healing).  It has to cook for 2-3 days and it was finally done after all the prep and simmering and nursing it to perfection.  I get to the 3rd large container and fill it up when it slips right through my hands and goes ev.ery.where.  All over the island, the floor, the mail, everywhere.  And I wanted to cry.  After working on it for so long, because I know she goes through it so fast, and putting so much in to it, I just wanted to cry.  It’s kind of like spilling breastmilk, it is valuable.  Anyway, Jase hears the crash and comes running.  I walk across the kitchen and bust my arse hard on the floor.  I’m laying there in a puddle of broth and my husband runs over laughs, checks himself and then asks if I am ok.  Awesome.  I cried and then laughed.  He’s an awesome husband and father, and dear God I love him, but he’s that person that laughs when someone busts it.  He *swears* he didn’t but he totally did.  He should just own it, be the laugher guy and admit it.  But he won’t.  I look him in the eyes and I can see it, he’s still laughing on the inside!  HA!

So yeah, by the time I got to the chiropractor this afternoon, I had to explain to her that I’d busted my arse in a puddle of broth and that my 3 year old wasn’t wearing underwear (long story).  I confessed that cause she might have noticed.  She has giggled and informed me several times recently when his clothes were on backwards and I had no clue.  How does a mom not notice that her kids clothes are on backwards all day long?!  Am I that busy?  Really?  I always look at other moms who seem to have it all together and wonder what the secret is.  I’m pretty sure we are the definition of chaos.  At least most days.