I was just enjoying these few beautiful moments getting ready to blog while the girls colored and Stryker bounced up and down in his Excer-Saucer.

It was a wonderful minute from the time I set the girls up with markers and paper and got Stryker settled to the time I pulled up my blog.

I even thought. Oh my goodness, what a wonderful afternoon we're going to have.

And.

Then.

I turned around and Scarlett had blue-markered her way into the Blue Man Group all OVER her face. Stryker found an old bottle of apple juice that has got to be fermented by now, so he is officially a baby drunk. And Stella. Well, Stella is still ok.

She's my golden child.

Good grief.

Will I ever get it together as a mother?

No. Why even try at this point????

Oh, because my children's sanity and future depends on it.

Dang it.

Good thing the girl's are pretty and basically already betrothed.... (Ahem, Braden and Logan.)

It's not just motherhood. In case you were wondering.

It's me. It's all of me. My purse is a mess. My house is a mess. I am a mess.

Even a Hot Mess would be a step up at this point.

Don't even ask Zach about what I was like last night, when I told him as soon as I get my first paycheck, I WILL be going to a therapist. And don't judge. I have this WHOLE philosophy on how therapy is necessary and healthy and even if you're not going through something, it never hurts to have like an objective opinion who will literally just listen to you without their own agenda.

Friends have their own issues. Although they listen, still they have a life going on inside their own mind too.

Husbands kind of just want to fix problems. And Wives just want to talk about them.

Mothers. Always the listening ear, sometimes you just can't tell them everything.

I mean. Obviously, I talk to all of the above and I'm not even wanting therapy for my marriage or anything like that. It's more like just a preventive step I want to take, so mainly I can talk about myself for an hour straight and live the rest of my life abstaining for narcissism.

Seriously. That's why. :)

I have a lot of thoughts and I can't just ask everyone I meet to listen to me talk about my self-absorbed self forever. Nobody wants to hear it!

That's why I want a therapist. So I can talk about myself. And my irrational fears and anxiety not based in reality and save the rest of humanity from having to listen to it.

Maybe I should talk to the shrink about the mess I am. That is probably exactly where I should start.

I think I know myself. Like, I think I am super well in-tuned with who I am, and what I like and what I don't like. But there are days, like today or weeks or months when I get lost in the day to day craziness of life and lose sight of who I am!

My kids overwhelm me. My house buries me. My work seems impossible. I am so tired that I am actually worried about driving anywhere and then when I lay my head down at night I toss and turn with a million different thoughts racing through my head.

And then the anxiety comes. Oh. The Anxiety.

You know I suffer from worrying. Like actual panic attacks. And with the book it's just amplified. Like ten fold.

But I was crazy before the book.

Trust me.

Over the summer we started looking at houses to buy and I broke out into hives. Like full body, Biblical-plague, proportionate hives. Just from "Talking" about the commitment. We didn't' actually buy.

Read it carefully, Miriah. I did SO NOT say HIV!!! :)

So. Anyways. Today at Bible Study I open my mouth and craziness comes forward. Utter craziness.

Those poor women, must think I'm bananas.

Some of them have come up to thank me for being so honest. And it's always like an Oh, my gosh! kind of moment. Because it's so not like I set out to spread honesty. It's more like, here I am, struggling to keep it together and oh by the way, I have no filter.

Today. I started talking about Church and how sporadic we go and how I wanted to play the bassoon in the orchestra and then the leader was like and that could be used to make church more consistent in your life.

And I was like, that is to true! And also super scary.

And then I looked up at all of these church women, who not only come every single week, but Wednesdays as well, PLUS Bible study Thursday mornings, and said... out loud.... Shoot, I'm pretty sure this is the wrong crowd for this conversation!!!

Who says that???? Really?? Any of it? Who says that?

Me.

That's who.

And then, yesterday, one of my moms' students asked her if I was a Christian or not. Because he totally didn't think I was from my books.

Dang it.

But here's the thing. If you know me. And if you look beyond the words that just fly out of my mouth without hesitation or forethought then you know that I am a Christian. That Jesus is THE central part to my life. And that everything I do, I try to do it in way that's pleasing to Him.

In fact, I love Him so much, I have no problem talking all theological in a bar.

Yep. I'm the girl that can tell you how much I love Jesus and Tequila in the same sentence.

But. Gosh. Sometimes I just don't make any sense.

And more than just that. Like my whole life is this muddled confusion of mixed-up-ness

I am like this former band-geek/valley-girl/used-to-be-an-athlete/turned-dance-mom/uber-conservative-republican/bleeding-heart-hippy/suzie-homemaker/working-mother/that scrimps and saves with every single penny but would get a pedicure every single week if I could.

Please somebody show me the road map to who I actually I am!!!!

No. Wait. It's ok.

I do know who I am. And I know that I am all of those things! And that's ok.

I can live my life as a contradiction. Or multiple contradictions. And I can be confident in that and insecure at the same time.

I have never been more happy in my entire life and at the same time cry... All... Of... The... Time....

But let's blame the nursing hormones on that.

I can know 100% that I am meant to be a writer. That I love nothing else in the whole world more than I love to write besides Jesus Christ and my family. And still be insecure, and face self-doubt and a plethora of fears that are certainly not common with the rest of the normal world.

I can be a mess. A giant hot mess. But still be healthy. Still be happy. And still pursue my dreams.

I can fail. And still be successful.

I can find success and still be open to failure.

Life is not pretty. Really. It's a disaster. We muddle through, holding our loved ones close and our sanity closer and hope that through the mess we find the beautiful.

It's not all of those random contradictions that make me who I am. It is who I am that embraces the contradiction.

So. Yes. I want a therapist. I have for years.

But I'm still healthy.

I'm still happy.

I'm still deeply and utterly in love with my husband. And I still wake up every morning thanking God for my beautiful family and the blessings He has heaped on our undeserving little souls.

And I'm still going to love Jesus with all my heart and love Tequila at the same time.