Endless Winter

Hello Readers! What has it been now, a couple years? Well, here I am :)

My title is pretty dramatic, but also very accurate this year. Here we are mid April, and snow is still covering my front yard. I am not happy about this. Did we need the moisture? Sure. Do we need this much? I don’t know, but it seems like too much. Hopefully the sun will start shining more often, and the weather forecast will start being wrong when it calls for a high of 28 degrees. Until then, I’m going to keep taking my Vitamin D and blog about a story that goes with the title ;)

Just a little side note- Sunday was my Dad’s birthday! He would’ve turned 70. I miss him and hope he’s enjoying his heavenly birthday week with some heavenly rocky road ice cream :)

My endless winter is also my endless summer. So many mixed emotions and feelings all within a span of one day. So tiring, taxing, and draining. Yet, so exciting, rewarding, and joyous. I feel like only a few things fit that description, and for me, it’s: Motherhood. Well, I should specify: Motherhood with 3 young children. 

I love my children with my whole heart. I’m so grateful for them and I love watching them grow and develop into the wonderful people they are. So don’t take any of this as me not being incredibly and utterly grateful for the privelege of being their mother. 

When we welcomed McCartney into our family a little over 6 years ago, Lucas and I found it was best for us for me to be a stay at home mom. I already wrote all about that in another post, but for the 5 1/2 years I was a full time mom, it was sure a rollercoaster ride. But so worth it. Last summer, a job opportunity presented itself that I jumped on. The unique thing is I’m still a full time mom, now just a part time worker as well. My job is awesome in that on my office days, my kids are allowed to come with me. They have toys and couches set up, so they are good for the few hours I do my in-office things. I also have a home office set up, and I don’t work more than 20 or so hours a week. It’s really a great fit for our family! I’m very grateful for my job. It took a few months to get over the Mom Guilt that would try to bring me down for not giving my kids 100% of my attention 20 hours a week. I’m happy to say I pushed that unnecessary guilt aside and it’s working out :) 

Being that I’m still with my kids (besides my oldest who is in full day school) 24/7, my “endless winter” can have some days that see little to no “summer”. My youngest, Brooks, had quite the time when he got to about 10 months old. He discovered high pitch screaming, and that was so fun ;). He especially loved to scream when anyone came into the office to talk to me, and any time I needed to make a work call from home. That scream caused me some hearing loss, I’m sure of it. Brooks also discovered how to wrestle and tackle once he started walking. Oh, and the pinching. My poor four year old, Murphy, was the test dummy for all of Brooks’s discoveries. She wouldn’t do anything to provoke him, he would just come up to her, tackle her, then pinch her arm hard enough to leave a mark. Lots of tears from everyone during that 8 month streak. And how do you discipline a 10-18 month old?! He didn’t understand when I told him no, so it was rough.

Murphy, being a typical four year old girl, brought on its own challenges. She started preschool, which has been great. She’s doing awesome and really coming into her personality. But man, her passion about some things like chocolate covered granola bars and short sleeved dresses is something fierce. If I’m out of the specific bars she likes, all hell will break loose. If I try to give her a t-shirt or long sleeved dress to wear that day, I won’t be leaving the house until I give in and get her a short sleeved dress. (I’ve since learned it’s not worth the fight, so all she has is short sleeved dresses). Trying to balance these two little raging balls of emotion with a to do list for work and a to do list for housework can get pretty complicated. 

Sometimes, Motherhood can leave me feeling very alone. Although my kids would rather sit in a steamy, humid bathroom than give me a shower alone, I still feel the lonliness creep in. I do have some amazing friends (shoutout to my bestie Erin) who help with this because they are in the same boat. It’s just a weird experience being lonely while never being left alone.

Overstimulation is a real thing. Every so often I feel like if one of my kids lays another finger on me for a snuggle or hug, I might explode. I love my baby snuggles, but sometimes it gets to be too much. And when your kids have been whining all day (my six year old most definitely included in this) and complaining that you “never snuggle” with them and “never play” with them…when you spent all morning doing just those things..it can add another level to the overstimulation. 

Every now and then Lucas and I will talk about the hypothetical question: “Would you rather eliminate sleep or eliminate food if you had to pick one”. I definitely thought (before kids) I would eliminate sleep because then I’d get an extra 8 hours in a day to eat ;) but really, sleep seemed like the obvious choice. Well after having kids, I now realize I would pick food in a heartbeat. Figuring out what three picky eaters will eat for breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner, and dessert is so exhausting! Well, my kids aren’t actually super picky, but my oldest has Celiacs Disease so all gluten snacks are off the table for her. There are certain things my kids just won’t eat, but then when I stick to buying what they will eat..after a while they get sick of it. And they don’t want the alternatives. And they are Always. Hungry. I’m grateful they’re growing and know they will get food when they ask for it, but man! I’m always looking for filling snacks, balanced meals, and worrying about their nutrition. If there were some magical way we could eat just for enjoyment, I’d be all over that ;)

Even with all these things that can make my “winter” seem endless, there is always a break in the clouds when my “sunshine” shines through. When McCartney comes home from school, Murphy and Brooks wait at the door impatiently and shout out “McCartney!!” while she gets off the bus and walks up our steps. McCartney still thinks I’m the bees knees and comes to me with any and all things she wants to talk about. Murphy is the best snuggler and she can be so, so sweet. She always lets me know I’m “a good mom” and that she loves me. Brooks is finally talking, which has decreased the screaming. He gives the best hugs and is a definite Mama’s Boy. He’s so sweet and silly, and rounds our family out in the best way.

I love watching my kids grow, and helping them along the way. I love hearing their ideas, and listening to them laugh at each other’s jokes. I hope and pray they’ll stay best friends as they get older. I love seeing them step into their personalities. I love how different and unique they are from each other. They each have their own dislikes/likes, interests, and opinions. They play together so well and I just love it.

My children give me a slew of emotions and “weather”. Through the cold of the winter, and the warmth of the summer, my three children make up the best part of my life. Whether it’s “winter” or “summer”, I know it’s not actually endless. One day they’ll be grown and doing their own thing. I need to remind myself of this daily when I find myself wishing they would be older already. I’m sure that time will bring on its own climate change ;) For now, I’ll enjoy the moments of joy, and keep in mind it’s fleeting during the moments of hardship. 

As far as this actual winter, if you’re somewhere sunny and nice…please send all those vibes this way :) 

-Allison S. Dahl

Patience Reward

 Hello readers! I think maybe I should stop apologizing for not posting as often, because you are all used to it by now ;)

As we are all aware, I miss my dad quite a bit. For some reason, and maybe it was due to the fact I was pregnant for most of it, this third-going-into-fourth year of my dad being gone has been the hardest. I think about him frequently and almost always my thoughts of him turn into tears. There have been so many things I want to talk to him about, and as time goes on, I can no longer imagine what he would say. It's getting harder to remember his voice and the memories are growing more faint. I thought that wouldn't happen until 10 or so more years, but I guess I was wrong.

One memory I have of my dad actually spans over several years. It all started when I was 8 or 9 years old. We were living in Washington, and our garage was a mess. Probably from the recent move two years prior, and the fact we used the garage as storage and not a place to park cars ;). Anyway, my dad was supposed to go on a bike ride with me, but was tasked with cleaning the garage a bit. I can't remember if he was looking for something specific in there, or if it was just cleaning out junk. Either way, this was delaying our bike ride. My dad realized it was getting late, and we wouldn't be able to go. When he told me this, I didn't throw a fit and said I understood. He was happy with my response, and promised he'd give me a "Patience Reward". I'm sure as this first promise originated, he was thinking an ice cream cone from McDonald's. I was also thinking that's what it would be. 

Time passed, and we never went to get that reward. Even more time passed, and it turned into an annual reminder that I still needed that "Patience Reward". He always said it required patience (pun intended) and so I would happily wait, knowing that as more time went on, the bigger this reward would be. 

For ten years, I brought up this reward and was told it was coming. Finally, one morning, I think the day of my High School graduation, I heard a knock on my door. My dad said, "Your patience reward is on your door!". Since it had been so long, I was honestly expecting a set of car keys. I opened my door, and hanging from the knob was a baseball cap with the college I was going to on it. I was sorely disappointed. That is what I have been waiting for all these years?! Obviously I was sad thinking this is what all that patience had gotten me.

Then I walked out to the living room, and my dad told me to come talk to him in his room. Still upset about the baseball cap that was probably free, I followed him in hoping there'd be an explanation. Then my dad showed me his new iPod Touch he just got, and I thought, "oh cool, that's where the reward went". He then said he just got it with the laptop he got me. I was confused because usually he would get the graduating kid a Dell laptop, but I knew Dell wouldn't hand out iPods with their laptops. My dad sat patiently while I pieced it together. Finally my face lit up when I realized he had gotten me an Apple laptop! "A MacBook Pro!" he said, furthering my excitement. I then said, "so that's the real Patience Reward.." And he smiled and we hugged. I love everything Apple, so I definitely thought it was worth the wait.

I still have the laptop 11 years later, and it (kind of) still works. During school when I used it the most, I often thought of this time and how the Patience Reward went from a (then) $0.50 ice cream cone to a pricey laptop. Had my dad been able to go on the bike ride, or even just get the ice cream cone, I would've ended up with a Dell ;) In all seriousness, who knows what would've happened, but I wouldn't have had that learning experience with my dad. It's even more valuable to me now that's he's on the other side. I know that my patience in waiting to see him again will have the greatest reward of all, a hug from my dad. I think it was more than just waiting to get a reward, it was how I waited. Being patient isn't just not asking about it, or not throwing a fit over it. Being patient is happily waiting and having a positive attitude. Sure, I get really sad in waiting to see my dad again. I have times where I can't stop the tears or swallow the knot in my throat. But I try to live my life in a way that when I do see my dad again, he'll be proud of what I've accomplished. I have the times where I ask to feel him or the times where I just wish I could see him now, like the annual reminder that I hadn't received my reward yet. The rest of the time, though, I'm enjoying each moment with my husband. I'm laughing with my three beautiful children. I'm finding ways to serve others, and make the most of my church responsibilities. I'm being kind to strangers, and waving at the construction worker holding the stop sign. Smiling at the other shoppers in the grocery store. Being kind to my server who is bombarded with tables. All these little things I do on a daily basis are a way of being patient and fulfilling the time I have here on earth. 

I know it seems a little dramatic to say I'll be waiting to see my dad again for the rest of my life, but behind all the living, aren't we all waiting? Waiting to be with ones we've lost too soon, waiting for things to be ok in the end, waiting to see what happens next? Perhaps the better words for waiting are continuing on, or moving forward with, or marching on. Either way, all those things require patience. And if we can find a way to be patient happily, doing the best we can, I know we'll all receive the best Patience Reward in one way or another.

-Allison S. Dahl  

For My Dad

 The memories play,

sometimes on repeat.

Depending on the day,

they'll sweep me off my feet.

I think of you,

your laugh, your smile,

What you would do

to make me feel worth while.

I drive the streets alone,

wondering what you'd say

If these streets lead me home,

and you'd be there today.

Would you be proud

of all that I've done?

Would you cheer so loud

for all the battles I've won?

How would you respond

When I tell you of my life?

Would it make you fond,

and tell Lucas he has a good wife?

What jokes would you make

that would have me roll my eyes?

What drives would we take,

if we never had to say goodbye?

What games would you play

with my two girls,

and my son on the way?

How would the world

be so different today..

If you were still here,

sitting next to me,

Telling me all the stories

and things that could be?

You said to never give up,

not on my dreams,

not on my wants,

and not on my needs.

You taught me to love.

You taught me to be proud.

You taught me to care,

But the silence has become loud.

I yearn to hear what you think,

What you would really say.

I hurt to hear your words:

It'll be ok.

The memories have held me,

They've gotten me through now.

But now I can't help but wonder:

Would life be better somehow 

If you were here?

If you had gotten to stay?

Maybe everything

wouldn't be this way.

I miss you more 

With every day that passes.

I still think of you 

Each time I clean my glasses.

I'll always wish you could be

Right here, right now,

Laughing and sitting with me.

Oh how I long 

For my daughters to know

Just how incredibly strong

And wonderful you are.

I'll tell them stories,

I'll show them pictures,

But nothing compares 

To having a hug a bug 

Whose warmth could melt any winter.

I'll watch the sunsets

And wonder where you are. 

I'll be kind and loving,

And hope you're not far.

I hope you can see me now,

And I know it wasn't the end.

I'll keep talking to you somehow,

And I can't wait 

Until we meet again.

-Allison S. Dahl

Overdue

Hello readers! Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. I know there are lots of other things you could be spending your time reading, so I do appreciate you making the choice to pick my post :)

Well, like many of my other posts, I've thought a great deal on this topic. Not only because I suffer from it myself, but because I feel there is a lack of people in my boat speaking about it. I'm talking about mental illness. I know I did another blog on it before, well maybe a few, but this one I really want to share my point of view on it. So to begin...

Lately there have been some celebrity suicides that have sparked the conversation of mental health. Television hosts have shared their opinions, and I see more and more memes talking about it. I do think we as a society have progressed in making mental illness less taboo, but it's still a "tricky" subject. There are very strong and loud people who believe a camping trip can solve your mental instabilities. Or there are people who think throwing pills at any sign of problem is the answer. I do believe that both options can be a solution...heavily depending on the person in question. Either way, I think our nation is recognizing that mental health is a serious thing, and should not be taken lightly.

When I was nine years old, the first traumatic thing happened in my life. There was a divorce in my family, and I remember hearing the news and not understanding it. I grew up with a mom and a dad who loved each other, and I thought divorce was only on the movies. (Which usually ended up as the couple getting back together). I sat on my bed in my room and just stared. Looking back, I now know this is when signs of my mental illness began. I stopped eating, playing with friends didn't sound fun, and I honestly longed to be a fly on the wall. Or a picture frame. Lifeless. These are thoughts a nine year old probably shouldn't have. It was a really hard time for my family, and looking back I think we all did the best we could.

As I got a little older, the other side of my mental illness showed up. I'm not going to go into every detail, but I did things that I would never do as myself. I ran cross country in 7th and 8th grade, and according to my doctor later on, that would be why I went undiagnosed for so long. My mental illness is Bi-Polar 1 Disorder , the worst kind of bi-polar. I have both manic and depressive phases. So when I ran cross country, I would run out the energy of mania, then give myself endorphins when I was depressed. This didn't stop my episodes from happening, just made them less apparent I guess. I did some really awful things, and when I would come down from the mania, I wouldn't know why I had done them.

New environments is a really big trigger for my disease, so when we moved to Idaho when I was 14, it got really bad. Some of my teachers even thought I was doing drugs because I was so manic. Way to make a good first impression, eh? Anyway, one of the episodes landed me in the hospital. I can't remember why, but after 5 minutes with a psychiatrist, he knew I had Bi-Polar Disorder. It explained a lot to my parents, and I suppose a lot to me once I became stable again and could understand. Medication, in my case, was the definite answer. And only answer, really. So I spent two months in a residential treatment facility where they found the right combination to help me stay stable. I really, really wish I could say my story with mental illness ends there, and that I've been stable ever since I left the treatment facility. But, as you can guess, I can't.

Going back to high school set off another episode, where I cut all my own hair off, and landed another hospital stay. This time it was shorter, though, and we were able to get me back in school and functioning properly. I ran cross country again Junior year and, although kids were pretty brutal, high school wasn't too bad. I stayed fairly stable through most of it, and graduated on time (which was actually rather impressive given my ninth grade start).

After I graduated, I went to BYU-I and didn't have any problems. My doctor even said maybe I would be ok without medication one day. That maybe it was my adolescence that made the episodes so bad. Well, this was false hope because I will always be on medication. Anyway, my point is there was hope.

After one semester at "The Burg", I decided that was not where I wanted to be. I moved to California and thought I would take my doctor up on his guess, and quit taking my medicine. I'm sure you can imagine, but all hell broke loose and I only lasted about a month a half out there. I moved back home, then after a few months moved down to Salt Lake. I promised myself I would always take my medicine, no matter how "good" I was feeling. I've taken it every day since, not once skipping. (Besides when I was pregnant, because somehow I'm super stable on the natural pregnancy hormone..fancy that)

I did pretty well in Utah. Despite not actually going to college, which is why I went in the first place, I was able to hold down a job, pay rent, and be on my own. I made friends, dated, and had a really good time. This is where my adoption post comes in, and explains that large part of my life. It's hard for me to remember if I had an episode right around the time I got pregnant because I was pregnant or because my medicine wasn't working, but I do remember taking it until my doctor told me to stop.

This is turning out longer than I anticipated, but thank you if you're still hanging on ;)

I consider myself very lucky that the depression I suffered from the adoption was what you would expect to suffer, and wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I do think my medication had a part to play in that. Well, right before I met my sweet Lucas, I was prescribed a birth control that counteracted my medication in a very negative way. But, like most people do, I listened to my OB/GYN and took it without researching it first. HUGE mistake on my part. It doesn't take a neurologist to figure out happened next. It took a good month and half or so for my mom and I to put together that it was the birth control making me crazy. I even went to the mental hospital for a week and even they didn't have an answer as to why I was having episodes. Somehow, Lucas stayed with me during the whole thing, and we were all very relieved when I stopped taking the birth control and returned to normalcy.

I was stable up until January 2016 when the medicine I was taking just simply wasn't enough anymore. Unfortunately, Lucas and I hadn't planned ahead and we didn't have a doctor to go to down here in Nevada, so it got ugly before we had the help for it to get better. I am happy to say, however, that that was my last episode and I haven't had one since *knocks on wood*. I'm hoping to stay on top of it and always have a therapist and psychiatrist ready in case any red flags start to show up.

My purpose in sharing my life story is so that people can understand better. It's very, very hard to understand mental illness if you don't have it. It's that way with lots of things. I can easily say having Bi-Polar has ruined my life in several ways. I wasn't able to finish my Dental Assisting certificate because of it, I lost many close relationships because of it, and there is just a lot of lost time because of it. The only reason I'm grateful for my disorder is because it opened my mind to others who suffer from mental illness. I know Anxiety and Depression are real things people have to live with. I know OCD isn't just a "neat freak" thing. I know a lot about not being able to trust your own mind. And let me tell you, it sucks. It really, really sucks.

I think the hardest part of having a mental illness is not having a way to explain to people what it feels like. Or watching people think that what you did or what you said while you were having an episode is what you are really like. That it somehow represents something that's actually part of who you are. I can tell you right now, not a SINGLE episode I've had has been an accurate representation of who I am or something I feel. Not even a little bit. I always came down from being manic and would look back and be so, so embarrassed of the things I did or said. And it never made sense, it never once was something I had been thinking of or wanting to do.

So, if there's one thing I want you to take away from this post, it's understanding. Maybe you know someone in your life who has told you they have a mental illness. Or maybe they were anxious, or manic, or depressed, and did something to hurt you. My plea is to just try to understand. It's not their true selves doing these things. And, like I said earlier in this post, maybe some of these people just need a camping trip to clear their heads and take a break. But more often than not, actual help is needed from a professional. Understanding something you don't have yourself is hard, but maybe we can try a little harder and be more empathetic (or sympathetic?) and help those around us who are suffering.

Thank you so much if you've read this. I hope it has shed some light on a topic we're not all comfortable with.

-Allison S. Dahl

I Miss You, Dad

Hello again, readers! As promised, here is another post...before March :)

For those of you who don't know, my father passed away from cancer June 1st, 2017. He had been fighting it for 14 months, and ultimately the cancer won.

I've written about my dad on here before, and reading those posts has been comforting. I think what I've been wanting to write about is how his absence has really had an impact on my life.

Obviously when you lose a parent to death, there's going to be a void. No matter your age or the circumstance, you're losing someone that is vitally important to you. I was 24 when my dad died, and I really felt like that was not fair. I kept thinking, "well, younger people have lost their parents..." but I kind of hate that line of thinking because this was hard for me. The whole "someone has it worse than you" is so belittling to your problems that I try my best not to use that. But that's beyond my point. Anyway, I felt too young to be losing my dad. He and I were close and he was such a good friend to me. Plus, I had a 5 month old that didn't even know him yet. I was angry and sad.

For you to really grasp this impact, you first need to understand who my dad was to me. He was my dad, yes, but he was a really good dad. He dropped everything for me on several occasions. And I don't mean that figuratively, like he actually dropped all his plans/called off work to come rescue me from situations or problems I was having. An example of this was when I was living in Salt Lake. I was going through a really hard time. I was dating Adelé's father and he wasn't very kind to me, I was pretty poor, and I had lost my hope for life. I called my dad and told him I was struggling. That's pretty much all I said. The next thing I knew, he was on his way down to Salt Lake to take me to dinner and even buy me a new (well used, but in great condition) car. (I was driving a really crappy, beat up pickup truck at the time.) It may have been a simple outing, but it helped so much. He let me talk and vent about whatever I wanted. He didn't pry or ask me questions I didn't want to answer. He actually surprised me with the car, and he did all this to make me feel better. I'm sure it wasn't convenient. I'm sure it was a little burdensome. But that didn't bother him. He just did things like that for me.

My dad was also a talker. If you ever knew the man, you can attest to this. Sometimes, and I hate admitting this, when my phone would ring and I would see it was him, I would roll my eyes because I knew I'd be on the phone for the next 45 minutes. Now, I would give anything to have another phone call with him. I never felt like it was a waste of time after we hung up, though. We always had good conversations. He always listened to me and made me feel validated and heard. He gave advice, even when I didn't necessarily ask for it ;) he did make sure to warn me first that it was coming, though. He was usually right with his advice. My dad was always a phone call away if I needed to talk, and always ready to tell me things whenever.

Today marks eight months since his passing. Part of me can't believe it's been that long, while the other part feels like it's been much longer. I still have a text message thread from my dad. I go back and read it from time to time, even though it only consists of "Hey, missed you tonight. I'll try to call again tomorrow" and other texts like that. There are days where I think about him a lot, and others where I think of him only a few times here and there. But I do think of him every day. I miss him. I miss him so much. Every time McCartney does something funny, or new, or cute I think "oh I should record this to send to my dad" and my heart breaks a little knowing I can't. There have been a few times where I could really use some advice on how to handle a situation, and he's not there to call. Worst of all is missing his hugs. We had this thing ever since I was a little kid that we called "hug a bugs" and it was basically just a big bear hug. Even as an adult we would always say "can't wait to give you a hug a bug!" and I would love one of those right now.

I am grateful I got my dad for 24 years of my life, but I do wish I had more. Of course, everyone does. We all wish for more time with our loved ones. I'm grateful for the example he set for me by loving my mom and my family with all he had. Sure, he had his flaws and he didn't do everything perfectly. But for me, my dad was a great dad. I will miss him until I get to see him again. Until then, I'll cherish the memories I have of him and hold on to love he had for me.

-Allison S. Dahl

The Stay at Home Life is the Life For Me

Hello again readers! Once again, ample amounts of time has passed since I last wrote. I guess that's my new norm.

One thing I didn't mention in my last blog is that while I was pregnant, Lucas and I decided that I would be a stay-at-home-mom. We did the math, and it turned out I would be working to pay for daycare. It didn't make much sense to go back to work just so someone else could watch my baby. Don't get me wrong, I loved my job, but the idea of leaving my baby didn't sound worth it. So I worked up until 10 days before she was born, and then that was it! I was no longer employed.

At first it was really surreal. The baby came and took most of my attention, but I kept having thoughts like, "ok just one more week, then back to work" or "I wonder if my boss will let me extend my time off" and even "she better start sleeping at night because I have to get up early for work". I would constantly have to remind myself I indeed was not going back to work. I suppose that's normal since I had been in the working world for eight years. It was really hard to fathom that my new job consisted of a 24/7 schedule with no time off, no benefits, and no paycheck. It also meant, though, that I didn't have to worry about hours or asking to have doctor's appointments off. I could schedule anything for McCartney at any time! I could stay up with McCartney and then get to snuggle and sleep in with her the next morning. It was really weird at first, but I got used to it.

With the joys of staying home, there are also the downsides. I think the hardest thing about being a stay-at-home mom is the lack of adult interactions. I'm sure you've heard that many times from other moms who stay home, but I really didn't think it would be as big of a deal as it is. It can be really challenging sometimes when the only other adult you see is your husband. Sometimes I feel bad for Lucas, because he'll come home and I'll just chat his ear off since I haven't had the chance to talk all day. I've tried a few times to talk to McCartney, you know, outside the normal baby babble, and it hasn't really caught on. Thus, I save all my thoughts during the day for a nice spout that Lucas gets to endure once he comes home. He's a really good sport though, and claims he's fine with it.

Another challenge with staying at home is that I often feel I am not contributing enough. This mainly comes from the fact that McCartney (my new boss) doesn't pay me in American currency. We have a snuggle and kisses deal worked out, so I can't complain too much. Anyway, it's a struggle for me to not be helping financially. When Lucas and I first moved to Las Vegas, my job was the breadwinner. He was going to school and working at school, and I was working, so the money I earned was what was helping us most. I guess there's a sense of pride in that. Then when he got his current job, and it became a team effort, I still felt the sense of pulling my own weight. I know that caring for a child is extremely challenging and is definitely helping our household, but there are times I have to remind myself it's ok I'm not bringing home a paycheck. I think this is another thing that time will have to help me get used to.

Now that I've made staying at home sound like a bummer, let me tell you the good things. I get to spend all day with my sweet McCartney. I was there for her first smile, her first giggle, the first time she rolled over, the first time she signed back to me, and all her other first milestones. I'm the one she wants when she's scared, nervous, happy, sad, excited, or really any emotion. I get to just hold her while she's sleeping and enjoy the silence and listen to her tiny little breaths going in and out. I get to spend every moment taking care of the sweet girl God gave me. I suppose I can trade adult interactions and money for that ;) In all seriousness though, staying home has been the greatest blessing to our family. I consider myself extremely lucky that Lucas and I were able to work out this arrangement.

Speaking of Lucas, I am so proud of him. He is an excellent father, an honor student (each and every semester!), and a valued employee (his bosses love him). I sometimes sit back and am amazed I landed such a wonderful husband. He takes time to make sure I feel appreciated and noticed. He always takes care of me when I forget to do so myself. He helps with McCartney when he can tell that we've had a "day". I'm so grateful for him and the wonderful man he is. I know always gush about him, but man, how could I not?!

Well, that is my sum-up of being a Stay at Home Mom. There's much more to it than what I've written of course, but my post is just mainly the big things that have stood out to me so far.

I'm happy to say I have another post pending!! I'm not sure when I'll post it, but probably before March :)

Thank you again for reading, your views always mean so much to me!

-Allison S. Dahl

Long Time, No Read

Hello abandoned (once again) blog! I'm sorry to those of you who actually read my posts that I left for a while. In my defense, I did say that I was going to be off the blogging world for a bit. This isn't to say I'm necessarily returning so to speak, but just giving you all an update.

Well,  May 25th, 2016, I discovered I was pregnant! Lucas was out walking our dog we used to have, and when he came back in I told him the news with a onsie that said "I love my daddy". I was pretty nervous and just wanted the first 13 weeks to pass so I could know we would have a healthy baby. Even so, we were both excited for the long awaited news. The pregnancy went very well, even though the first trimester consisted of me throwing up daily and always feeling nauseated. On September 6th, 2016 we found out our bundle of joy would be a girl! I was definitely surprised because I was certain she was a boy. This pregnancy was vastly different than my first, so I thought the only explanation was a different gender. After a few months of growing what felt like a miniature planet in my stomach, McCartney Lyn was finally born on January 31st, 2017. Oh man was she beautiful! She still is, but that moment I first saw her is one I will never forget. And let me just tell you, seeing Lucas's expression when he saw McCartney for the first time made me cry. How lucky I am to have this wonderful man by my side as we bring up this beautiful girl we've been blessed with.

I'm assuming most of you have read my adoption story, (which if you're still following my blog--props to you) so I wanted to share how vastly different my second go around at being pregnant was. To state the obvious, my circumstances were pretty opposite from the first time. I had a loving husband, a baby was something we both wanted, and we put our trust in God that we would have a child at the right time. Those three things alone gave me the best nine months of my life. Lucas is so amazing, you guys. Like, you have no idea unless you've met him personally. He was literally at my beckon call any time I felt sick or uneasy. He put my socks on and tied my shoes for the last three months since reaching my feet was pretty challenging. He'd get me a glass of water after every time I ran to the bathroom to throw up. He made me lunches and brought them to my work, always consisting of things I had requested that morning. He massaged my feet if I asked him to, and he even sat down and did the online baby registry with me. Now, these things might sound standard or not really that big of a deal, but to me they were huge. I appreciated so much how Lucas took care of me and our soon-to-be baby. I think if I hadn't gone through the heart wrenching process of placing a baby by myself, I most definitely would not appreciate Lucas and his efforts as much as I did. He is such a stand up guy, though, so I'd be pretty pathetic not to appreciate him either way. ;)

Another thing that going through my first pregnancy taught me was not to complain. Ok, yes I did get pretty antsy the last few weeks of my pregnancy and wanted to just hold my stinking baby already, but in the first few months--I was grateful. I didn't mind losing my stomach constantly. I was ok feeling nauseous all of the time. I knew it was worth it, and that being pregnant is such a beautiful thing that should not be taken for granted. I thanked Heavenly Father in each of my prayers for blessing us with this opportunity. I know many women will tell you being pregnant is the worst and it is miserable, but I am not one of those. Yes, there are many uncomfortable nights and days. There are times you just cry because false labor tricked you again. But I would not trade it for anything. And holding your precious baby for the first time is something I could never put words to. Plus, seeing the man who helped you through it all sit and gaze upon his new little daughter is simply bliss. It truly is a miracle and such a wonderful experience.

I feel like I owe my experience of being single and pregnant a huge 'thank you'. And I owe the couple who adopted my baby an even bigger 'thank you'. Because of that situation, I was able to get everything I've always wanted. Because of that heartache and pain, I was able to appreciate the beauty of having my own child with my husband. I look at my life now and simply smile. This is what all that hell I went through was for. And let me tell you, it's so worth it. I would not change a single detail. My first daughter has a wonderful family and has every opportunity that I could not give her at the time. My second daughter has a mom and a dad that love her so much and can give her the life she deserves, and I am very proud to say I am that mom. This time I can give my sweet McCartney every shot at life she wants to take. She has a dad that is already wrapped around her finger, and has been since he found out about her. So, thank you Holly and Oley for loving Adelé and giving her everything she ever needed and deserved. Thank you broken path that lead me to adoption. And I thank my Heavenly Father for changing my stubborn mind that night several years ago in my bishop's office. I began turning my life around and was able to meet Lucas at the right time. Now, here we are with our own sweet little angel and I thank Him every day for all of it.

As per usual, my "update" turned into a gush of my life story, but hey, it's an update nonetheless. My life is pretty good right now.  I'll try to keep you posted ;)

-Allison S. Dahl