Happy Father's Day. We got a call from the neighbor at 5:30am this morning, saying that we had 6 cows out and headed to town. Not what you want to hear. Turns out the gate to the heifers and bulls was open and they wandered out and apparently broke the milk cows out of their pasture too. Actually there were about 9 cows out, it was a mini rodeo herding them back.
Then I took the kids and rushed to town, and picked out a few gifts for Dante and went to visit my Dad. I apparently got confused there was a breakfast planned and we accidentally showed up! Glad we did. I don't get to see my Dad nearly enough.
One of Dante's friends invited us to their camp. There were a handful of couples and a bunch of kids. Our kids had a great time, and Dante did too. There were a lot of pretty people there. What people don't realize is that our kids didn't get so cute, just because of Dante. I used to be pretty too. It makes me really sad, I feel like I don't recognize the face staring back at me in the mirror. I was never fat before having kids. I had anorexia and bulimia in highschool. I don't even know why, and don't care to go to therapy to find out either. It's like as soon as I got pregnant with my first child 10 years ago, I immediately knew that I needed to be healthy for the baby. So I went from a size 2, to what I am now. An overweight woman who cried quietly on the way home from a barbecue because I'm sad today. Obviously I have a hard time expressing my emotions in a healthy way. It's rainy, I'm cold, embarassed, and just wish I could figure out how to be comfortable in my own skin. While I'm wishing, it would also be nice to not have to prick my 3 year olds finger 8-10 times a day, and jab her with insulin 4 or 5 times as well. One good thing about having a sweet little child with type 1 diabetes, is I have seen the beauty and serenity of many a late night and sunrises that I probably would have missed sleeping.
Gosh, what a downer, huh?
Honestly, I don't know how to be anything other than one extreme or the other. I think I'm going to resolve to allow myself to cry from time to time, and not always try to be everyone's rock.
I should have put a disclaimer at the top that said, " This has nothing to do with cheese"