I think that when it comes to writing, at least for me, the hardest part is inspiration and motivation.  I have a hard time making myself sit down and write.  I have to feel the spark… the pull.  The second hardest part… knowing where to start.

Tonight my muse was my very special friend, Brittney. I say special because she is.  She is an incredibly sweet unique soul. There are people we meet in our lives that we just click with.  Like our souls have known each other for a very long time and were drawn back to one another.  Completely different lives, backgrounds, childhoods, interests… but when you meet them, its like you’ve never not known them.  I have been incredibly lucky to find a few of these people in my short life here.  She is one of these people for me.  A best friend, a soul mate.

Okay, I guess the best way to start is to dive into it.  I might get crucified for this but so be it.  Its my blog, my heart, my feelings.

Lately I have been feeling… unwanted.  I don’t want to go into excessive details.  I truly dont want to hurt anyones feelings, despite the fact that no ones seems to have any qualms about hurting mine.  And its made me very angry… bitter.  And very hurt. And the fact that I allow myself to be hurt by this behavior (which was in every way expected), pardon my french, pisses me off. If I know whats going to happen, why do I still allow it to sting me?  Because I care, damn it.

After some venting and some talking and some great friends validating my feelings, I decided that I had a choice to make.  I could sulk, and complain. I could let my feelings ruin mine and everyone elses day. I kind of got into a fight with my husband this morning so I may have started leaning towards that first choice to start.  I honestly feel a little entitled to a pity party sometimes.  But its my party, I shouldnt go gate crashing other people’s days. So the second choice was to remember who I am and remember my purpose.

My purpose in this life, I have determined through many hours of soul searching and praying, is service. Everything that I have ever felt desire to do, professionally, recreationally… has been service oriented.  I am here to live a life of service to others.  With a full and grateful heart I serve my children. With love and joy I serve my husband.  With respect and humbleness I offer service to my parents. With all that I am, I offer myself to my friends and family members.  And when I am able… I serve whoever is in need of me.  This is my purpose.  To help, to guide, to listen, to protect, to just… be there wherever and whenever I am needed. To do whatever it is that I can.

So with my heart full of love and purpose, I chose to be a light.  I went, I smiled, I attempted to engage… I failed.  So I redirected myself.  I had a wonderful day.  I was a duck and let the feelings of inadequacy and rejection roll off my back.  I focused on what I could control and that was myself.  I got a dozen kisses and hugs from my little nephew, and my other was completely enamored with his gift I gave him. Oh that made me feel SO GOOD! I’m horrible at choosing toys and I feel so sick about it.  But this little voice kept going back to the Legos… my children love them, but I wasnt sure how they would feel about them.  I think Legos are such a great toy.They are  great facilitator for learning, imagination, gross and fine motor skills, sharing… I could go on.  We love our legos and I was just in heaven watching my nephew build and imagine. Over. The. Moon.

I tell you all that to bring us to where we are now.  Brittney knew that I was feeling some apprehension about today, so being the amazing person she is, asked me about my day and how the whole thing went.  I was happy to tell her that I had a great day despite it not actually going the way I wanted it to.  And she reminded me of something that I havent thought about in a while.  A silly but altogether very serious goal that I have set for myself.  Something that I have desired to do since I was a little girl.

And that my friends… is to change the world.

I know, sounds like a tall order for one person.  But really… it’s not.

Change… it starts with one person. And a small change, like a drop in a bucket, can add up to big things.  And the change starts with me.  I have to change my heart. I have to choose to see the good, seek it out if I must.  And if I can’t find the good, then I must BE the good. I’m going to start with me.  Find my light, my peace, my happiness.  And then when I’ve got my light shining… share it with others.  Be their light, their peace, help them find their happiness.  It all wraps up into my purpose of service.

Watch out, world.  I’m coming.  And I’m coming with love in my heart and a smile on my face.  And if you don’t like it… suck it.  This little light of mine? Im gonna let it shine. You can’t dull my sparkle.  You can’t keep me down. Insert other empowering, inspiring statement here. Seriously, though… It’s an amazing thing to think… that one person could change the world.  And one person can.  You can.  Because while you may not be able to reverse global warming, or end world hunger… you have the power to change your life.  You have the ability to affect other people’s lives.  A smile, a hand held out, a kind word… a listening ear, a thoughtful gift… it’s not always the grand gestures, the donations, the big things… Sometimes the biggest effects come from the smallest of places.

So like a warrior I stand ready to face the next battle.  But I am not unarmed.  And I am certainly not alone.

So in a shocking development… I guess a few of you actually do read this.  I have had a few people approach me and ask, “You haven’t posted in a while, why have you stopped?”  Honestly… I really didn’t think anyone was really reading them.  I am the type of person that just assumes that anything that could possibly come out of me, isn’t of any value.

So the real reason I havent been writing?  I’ve been very depressed.  And I didn’t want that to come across in my writing.  I want to give people hope and happiness.  I want to make them laugh and lift them up.  I don’t want my sadness, my emptiness, to darken someones day.  So I stayed away to deal with it on my own.

But then I started to think about it… I didn’t start this for other people.  I honestly didn’t.  I did this for me.  To share MY life, to tell MY stories.  And writing makes me feel free and happy.  So… how can I use this?  How can I use this… feeling inside me?  How can I turn this darkness I feel… into light?

When I was 16, I went to the doctor for a normal check up and to get birth control pills.  My period was always heavy, and I would frequently have it every two weeks rather than the normal once a month for most women.  I was hoping that birth control might even me out a little, make me more regular.  Of course the doctor needed to ask me some questions before she could write me a prescription. The normal things like, “are you sexually active?”, “why are you wanting birth control?”, etc.  Part of this process was answering some questionnaires and filling out papers.  So, I answered them as honestly as I knew how. When the doctor came back in, and brought my mom with her, she sat down and said that based on our talk we had and the answers on my questionnaire, she was concerned over me having depression and wanted to talk to us about some medications that she thought might help me.

Now my first thought was, “Doc… I’m a teenager.  Arent I supposed to depressed and ‘hate my life’?  Isnt that what being a teenager is all about?”  I mean, lets face it, that’s kind of their schtick, right?  “Poor me, poor me.  Life isn’t fair.  The world is against me.  I hate myself, and the way I look.”  Its part of growing up, being anxious and insecure.

And my second thought immediately was, “I don’t need medication.”  To which I was thankful my mother wholeheartedly agreed.  My mom asked me a few questions later on, nothing serious as I remember.  In fact, I barely remember much of it.  It only sticks in my head because it felt like such a shock to me, I had never considered myself as “depressed”. I figured I was just going through the normal ebb and flow of emotions that comes from being a teenager.  And to be honest, I think I was right.

I tell you that story to tell you this one now.  And before I go any further, I do not in any way pretend to be an expert on depression.  I can’t speak as to what depression is to anyone else.  I can only speak to what it is for me.  And while I think there are aspects of depression that we can all relate to and connect with… each person has their own story, their own version of this that is unique to them.  Things that work for them, whether it be medication, therapy, sheer will power or any combination of these and a million other things.  I do not seek to minimize anyone, or anyones, feelings, struggles, or journey.  This is simply mine.

Depression is real.  It’s a *earmuffs* real bitch.  For me… its darkness.  Soul crushing… emptiness.  Wanting to care, but just not being able to.  Not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to go outside… some days I don’t even want to wake up.  I just want to sleep forever.  But then the emptiness turns into anger.  It goes from black to red.  I HATE myself for feeling like this.  People love me.  My husband and children NEED me.  I HAVE to be better, feel better for them.  They dont deserve this in their life.  And then again… it shifts.  From anger… to despair.  From red to the color of a starless night.  There is no light.  How will I find my way out of this?  I can’t.  There is the emptiness again.  Only I am the emptiness. I am not good.  I am not worth their love.  I am nothing.  Just… nothing.

This feeling of despair probably was most prevalent after the birth of my first son.  He had moderate reflux, needed around the clock attention, my husband worked over 50 hours a week, I was a first time mommy… and I just felt like everything I was doing was wrong.  I spent nearly every moment for four months straight shirtless, covered in vomit, trying to console an infant in constant discomfort, on 30 minutes of sleep and alone.  I’m sure it would have made the strongest of people feel weak, let alone some one with post partum hormones raging through their body.

But my personal choice in this has been no medication.  No pills.  No drugs.  No pharmaceuticals. But again, that’s my choice.  I don’t mean to say that they don’t work, that you shouldnt take them, or that they’re bad.  If you want them, if you need them, please take them.  My mother has always given me great advice.  And one thing that she has taught me is that we all have the ability to choose our own happiness.  There are many facets to every situation in life, and its our choice what light we see them in.  So I make every effort to choose my happiness.  Kind of a mind over matter thing.

Again, please, this is my story.  For me, I know that depression is often a chemical imbalance.  But I am the master of my own universe.  I choose how I feel.  I tell my mind and my body what it’s going to do.  I am in control.  That is what I tell myself anyway.  So I will use every avenue at my disposal to get myself to a place of peace and happiness. Writing, talking, meditating (this usually happens right before bed, sometimes its the only way I can sleep, I have a great visualization technique if you ever want to know about it, get at me), full on bawl fests (usually in the shower and occasionally in the car if I’m alone), nature, exercise… and sometimes food.  Yeah, yeah it’s not always the healthiest of coping mechanisms but shut up and let me eat my healing spoonful of chocolate icing in peace.

But the most important tool that anyone can have in all of this, is a good support system.  My husband has been supportive of my choice to battle this without the help of medications, which makes me feel like he believes in me.  He lets me wrestle my demons the way I need to.  If I need extra time to sleep, or a moment to escape, he finds a way for me to have it.  During my post partum, I had many wonderful people willing to lend a hand.  My mother in law numerous times came to hold and cuddle Squish so that both he and I could get some sleep.  My mom… she was always there to reassure me and empower me as a mom.  That I was in fact doing what was best, I was a good mom.  She answered the phone no matter what time it was, even leaving work early to rescue me, but never making me feel like I needed to be.  My family, my friends, and my boys… they’re what keep my world turning.  They give me hope and help me keep my faith.  They are my light in the darkness.

Some days I have to tell myself… Just one more day.  You can do anything for one day.  You can do this for one more day.  And sometimes I have to tell myself again the next day, and the day after that.  Some days I am the great pretender.  My mom also is a big fan of the phrase, “Fake it, till you make it.”  Sometimes, you might even fool yourself. I know I do all the time.  And some days, I don’t even know what depression is.  My life is full of meaning and purpose.  And light.  I always look for the light.

I want to leave you with this.  And if you know where this is from, then we must be best friends and I love you.  It’s a story that I hope that you take to heart, if you ever feel yourself being pulled down by anything in your life.  Its a story about a guy in a hole.

A guy falls into a hole.  It’s very deep, the sides too steep to climb.  The man struggles for a while before someone walks by.  It’s a doctor.  The man shouts up, “Hey Doc, I fell into this hole and I can’t get out. Can you help me?”  The doctor scratches out a prescription and tosses it into the hole and walks away.  Soon another man walks by, this time a priest. “Father,” the man pleads, “I have fallen into this hole and I can’t get out. Can you help me?”  The priest writes out a prayer and drops it into the hole and continued on.  Next, a friend walks by. “Hey, Joe, I fell into this hole.  Can you help me out?”  The friend jumps into the hole.  “What are you doing?”, the man cries, “Now we are BOTH stuck in this hole!”  The friend looks at the man and says, “Yeah, but I’ve been down here before and I know the way out.”

You are not alone.  Any of you.  Not as long as I am here.  I have been in the hole.  I will help you find your way out.

I think we have all had those “bad mommy” days.  The days where it feels like we can’t do anything right.  The days where the only words that come out of our mouths are “no”, “stop”, “not right now”.  The days where we start to feel a tingle of pain in our throats because we have spoken so forcefully all day.  The days where your kids have cried all day long because you have crushed their hopes and dreams.  You probably shed your fair share of tears as well.   The days where you shout that you just need 5 minutes to yourself and hide away to scream your frustration into a pillow.  Maybe you are like me and just actually break down and scream in front of your children, scaring them into a hysteric sobbing mass.  And then you join them and sob hysterically on the floor alongside them.

I have been having a bad mommy week.  I keep saying to myself, “It can’t possibly be this bad.  They can’t possibly be this difficult.  It has to be me.  I am doing something wrong here.”  Its been a very long week of fussing, and fighting, and sass.  Which that can be expected when one of your children is a “Three-nager” and the other is in full force “terrible two’s”.

By the way, if you haven’t heard of the term “Three-nager”, its like teenager… but when you’re three.  We call them this because you have entered the stage where the word “no” or “wait” or “anything but yes” is met with a hysterical wail and a dramatic tantrum like a 13 year old girl who was told that she isn’t allowed to go to the mall with their friends.  And the reason they are called “Terrible Two’s” is because (pardon my french) “F*cking awful” doesn’t start with a “T”.

But my point here is… it might be a bad mommy day, or a bad mommy week… but you are not a bad mommy.  Did you feed your kid?  Do you love your kid?  Did you keep them safe, and hug and kiss them?  Did you tell them you were sorry?  Did you tell them they are not a bad kid?  You aren’t a bad mommy.  You are a good mommy… who had a bad day.

Bad days don’t make bad mommies (or daddies).  Stop.  Step back.  Breathe.  Count.  Cry. Sing.  Drive.  Walk.  Dance.  Change the rhythm, change the moment.  Being a parent is stressful.  Sometimes it can feel so isolating.  But you are your wee things… you are a team.  And some days… it feels like no one has any training whatsoever, haha.  But you figure it out together.  Just remember… you are the adult.  Even if you don’t feel like it. (I have those “What the heck, who let me have a kid, I don’t know what I am doing” days more often than I would like to admit).

So say it with me.  I am a good mommy. Again. I am a good mommy.  And one more time…  I am a GOOD mommy.

Well, folks, here it is.  I have made my own blog.  My own little corner of the internet to share my world and my stories.  Squish and Squeaker dot com is born.

A little information for you, just in case you haven’t been following along in my adventures. My name is Koren.  I am a wife to a wonderful man, and mother to two wildly beautiful boys.  I am your average girl.  I like to stay home and watch movies and eat pizza.  I love photography and being outside.  I love to write and tell stories.  I like to make people smile and help whenever and wherever I can.  And I hope that in following along with me here, you can get to know me a little yourself.

This is my first post (obviously haha) and I am still learning how this all works.  Like everything in life, I’m winging it and making it up as I go. So bear with me, as this is a work in progress.  Which anyone who knows me, knows that this is absolutely killing me.  I am a perfectionist, a smidgeon OCD, and if I can’t do something perfectly, well I just plain don’t want to do it!  But I told myself, you have to start moving.  Just start typing.  It will all fall into place.  You are doing this for YOU!  If you happen to entertain, inspire, and make people happy along the way… that’s just a bonus.  A pretty awesome bonus.

What I mostly want to do here is share my life and my stories.  Whether its just my family and friends reading, or other moms out there, or anyone… I hope that I can reach you in some way.  I hope my stories make you laugh.  I hope they touch you in some way.  I hope that I can connect with you all, one way or another.  You may see a tutorial here and there if the boys and I do or make something fun or yummy that I think that someone will like or if I get a request.

Something I also hope to do periodically is something I am tentatively calling, “Meet the Mom”.  I know so many moms that have helped me along and inspired me to be a better mom.  And I would like to share some of their stories should they be willing.  Their strength and spirit are something that I feel like we could all benefit from.  And I am not limiting myself to moms.  Meet the Dad, Meet the Parents… aunt, grandma, brother… I just want to share stories that have inspired me to be a better parent, a better person.  These will more than likely be themed and could be in the form of a Q&A style interview, personal narrative, or I will just whip something up.  So stay tuned!

That is all for now folks!  I cannot wait to get going with this.  Wish me luck!