Mental Health Day's for the Win..

 A lot has been happening in the Ehart house. Nothing of which I'd like to publicly air. Yesterday my husband treated me to a much needed "mental health day." A day to just enjoy the life we have, enjoy the boys and forget all the stress at home.
 My husband, took us to Disneyland. I was so excited to get the hell out of here, put some tickets we had socked away to good use and enjoy the smells, the color and of course the holiday magic that happens around this time of year.
 What I got was so much more. They say that when you have kids you get to experience magic through their eyes. I have encountered this on a few occasions but it's been awhile. Some would say my kids are "spoiled". They have had the luxury of Disneyland passes in the past, Knott's Berry Farm, Universal Studio's, San Diego Zoo even Sea World. The point to this is that they are no stranger to theme parks or a life of fun.
 Yesterday though, it was like my boy's were going to Disneyland for the first time! That sounds crazy but we did the math and it's been almost 4 years since we've been in that park. The boys were 5 and 2 the last time we were there! I got to watch them explore and take in all the sights and sounds. They rode ride's they have been on at least a dozen times but couldn't remember or were to small to ride before. The day had no stress, no strife and the boys were of course none the wiser to our "need" for a break.
 I had the pleasure of holding onto Cooper as we took large turns on Big Thunder Mountain, his belly laughs as the wind whipped through his hair and his arms were up and waving. I got to hold my Riley boy's hand on the Haunted Mansion as we took in all the Nightmare Before Christmas decorations. We all rode Indiana Jones together and neither of them were scared of the effects. My favorite part though, was at the end of the night when we ended our park visit with the Finding Nemo Sub ride. My husband put his arms around me and we both watched the boys deep in the windows of the sub, listening to the narrator and taking in the characters. Riley even went on to nudge Cooper and tell him, "Look Coopie! Those Jelly Fish are real!!" (They aren't real but neither of them need to know that truth.)
 Yesterday, I forgot to worry about the things that are out of my control and I got to enjoy watching this life, the one we have built and are building through our boys.
 I got to really enjoy the day, not being pulled in any one direction and I got to experience a new kind of magic and wonder through my kids. I got to see that no matter how serious life can be you should always make a little room to be silly, play harder than you work and take time to just breathe. Yesterday, we didn't worry about finances (though, we really should.. fuck it, it will work itself out.) we didn't worry about personal drama, dirty floors or taking out the trash. (for real.. forgot to put them down to the street.. oops?)
 I don't publicly say it as often as I should but I am so thankful for my ginger and all four of my children. They make the bad weeks better, the shit days bearable and the fun moments worth enjoying to the fullest. They keep me grounded and I couldn't imagine doing this very life without them. <3

It's "OK" to Deal With the "Things"..

Sean: Babe..

Me: Yes?

Sean: You know I love you..

Me: I'm sorry I've been so neurotic the last few days..

Sean: It's ok. You have a lot on your mind, you're ok..

Me: Just a little, maybe a few things.

Sean: You know it's ok to "deal" with "things", right?

 So, what some of you may know and what some are just finding out is that I have been having some less then desirable heath issues the last year. I try my best to down play it and to not freak myself out. I also try really hard not to freak ya'll out.. but the last few weeks have been a little harder then others.

 You see, nearly a year ago I was diagnosed with a condition called Interstitial Cystitis. Basically, my bladder is a real moody bitch and doesn't always like to be a team player. This condition sounds scary and is really hard to properly say, pronounce or even explain but mostly it's just really inconvenient. It's painful but lucky for me, I can function at almost full capacity almost all the time.

 IC is mostly (for me) controlled with a mild blood thinner that causes me to have some pretty wicked side effects. 

 None of this is really crazy important for you to know because this is not the "specific thing" occupying most of my brain space.

 Three weeks ago I saw my urologist for a follow up and after ruling out some stuff and things he decided our next course of action is for another cystoscopy with a high chance of biopsy. Medical jargon because I am watching Grey's Anatomy as I type this.

 I have done a decent job of not stressing, not letting this course of action change my moods but as my surgery date approaches I am allowing some pretty dark thoughts to occupy those positive spaces.

 I keep pep talking myself, telling myself that whatever it is, I will get through it. 

 I will.. but to be honest I am scared. I am really freaked out and I am insanely stressed. 

 I know people who have cancer, who have beat cancer and I have mourned those who tried but lost. I selfishly don't want to be any of those things. I don't want to have cancer (I know, does anyone?), I don't want to have to fight to beat or lose to cancer. I don't ever want someone to mourn me because of cancer.

 I've done what every medical professional I know has told every patient in the world not to do. I have googled, webMd the shit out of my symptoms and even struggled to explain away so many of them. I even for a day, one solid day, considered canceling this rapidly approaching surgery. (Don't worry, I didn't.)

 I have downplayed my feelings about all the new things going on because, well, I don't want to "deal" with these things. Or so I thought until my husband said to me, "You know it's ok to "deal" with "things", right?" What I am sort of starting to realize now is that I don't know how to deal with my own things. I can advocate for my children, scream from a rooftop about my job, confront an irrational client, pep talk the spirit back into just about anyone and discuss all aspects of my life but when it comes to dealing with my own personal struggles.. I don't really know how.

 I don't know how to be rationally concerned for my own well being without falling apart. The last two nights that Sean and I have tried to talk about my health all I can do is cry.

 I know I come off as a hard ass and I soldier through a lot of physical pain.. this is no secret. I am often referred to as crazy, so strong, to stubborn or my least favorite, "super woman." All said mostly as a term of endearment but the truth is this whole week I have been nervous, anxiety ridden, stressed, angry and mostly scared.

 Scared that if this is just a bad IC flare up that this will be a reoccurring hindrance in my life. Scared that if it is more then just an IC flare up that I will have to fight. Scared that my children will inevitably be affected by my fears. I am aware that my fears are premature and are definitely isolating me but I mostly prefer to be a silent sufferer. 

 I don't know how to say these things out loud but last night as I read the book called "Love You Forever" to Cooper and Riley, a book we have read hundreds of times since before they were born I got choked up and I let myself wonder if I were gone from this world, who would read to my babies?

 Who would call them my names of endearment or share their "I LOVE PENIS" stories with the world? Who could fill my shoes and be everything that I am for my adorable ehart clan.

 I don't want to wonder those things. I don't want to think of my husband and children navigating our beautiful life without me.. so I just don't "deal" with this "thing."

 I truthfully send out silent vibes every night that three weeks from now I'll be writing a blog post about how healthy I am, how stupid this blog post was and how I was worked up for absolutely nothing.

 So, in a not so short peek into my life.. if I seem testy, irrational or just plain distant don't take it personal. I am trying to deal with things and I am not as good at it as I pretend. I am trying to stay positive and I am trying to be attentive to all the normal aspects of my life but this week is a little harder then I would like to admit. <3

To The Man I Once Called Dad..

Isn't it amazing that you can go years without giving much thought about someone who at some point meant the world to you but the curiosity of a child can have you doing social media searches and google searches within minutes?
 It has been 9 years since I last reached out to you. Before that I was 17. You left my life, sometime around the age of 10. I guess, I am over due for my usual search for you. This time though, I'm not angry and this is my open letter for you, not to you.
 I called you just before my graduation and asked you to attend. I invited you to come sit in the stands as I was recognized for my accomplishments because I wanted someone there who could understand the weight of that accomplishment, someone who would know what I came from and what an accomplishment my graduation really was. Someone, I could say was there for me.
 Your reply was a "No." ... You told me that you had your very own family and that I was apart of your past and you asked me not to contact you again. At that time I couldn't understand why. I was once your daughter, you were the only dad I knew. The only dad I could remember.
 I emailed you when I was 22 or maybe I was 23. I emailed you to let you know my mom had passed away and I was surprised to get a response. You made some quip about my e-mail address and I think you asked how I was doing? I remember being angry in my response.. and I remember hating that I wanted you to care more.
  If this were to reach you today, I would want to tell you that I am sorry. I am sorry for expecting you to think of me the way I often thought of you. In my head and sometimes my diary, I always imagined you would just re-appear in my life and we would have a bond that I longed for.
 I want you to know I'm not angry anymore. Not with you, or my mom.. or Floyd and Carol. I turned out to be a pretty decent person and a fairly good Mom. I'm successful and happy.
 I'd want you to know that in some ways, I am a spitting image of Teri. I use "fuck" more then I should, I'm quick witted and when I see my smile in a reflection, I see her. I love hard and I give more then I should which were about her only redeeming qualities.
 I think it would also be wise though to tell you that I didn't follow in her foot steps. I've never put drugs up my nose or into my veins, I've never touched a cigarette and I furthered my education. I waited until an acceptable time in my life to have children and I'd go to the ends of the earth for each and every one of them. I say this more for me then you though, you see, when I was young and angry I reached out to you for some form of acceptance. I needed validation. I don't need that from you now.
 Today, for the first time ever, I told my daughters about you. I told them about the time you took me camping at the Kern River and how I almost drown when I slipped from my tube. How we were all thankful I had taken those swimming lessons the summer before. I was brief in my discussion about you and within minutes, my oldest had google searched you, found your home address and a land line number. She asked if I wanted to call you.. to which I replied, "No."
 This girl can only handle so much rejection and you made it clear that you didn't want me to continue to contact you directly. I'll respect that.
 What I would say to you though, if given the chance is this:
 Thank you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for giving me your time and treating me well while you were apart of my life. I now understand all that it takes to love a child who is not biologically mine. The time, the effort, the thankless job it is to love a child who doesn't have to love you back.
 I understand now, as an adult that you gave me what you could during a time that must have been hard on you. To not only end a relationship with my mom but to have to walk away from me probably wasn't easy on you.
 I remember the year after we moved back to Apple Valley that you sent me a couple Nintendo games for my birthday. I never got the chance to tell you how much that meant to me. To be fair, at that time I didn't fully understand that you would never again be apart of my life.
 I hope you're happy, I hope your kids are wonderful and that your wife treats you well. If google is correct my daughter informed me you're still in Bakersfield and you're still an electrician. I think I found you on Linkdn but thats as far as I took my own search.
  I hope the hate mail I sent in my younger years doesn't hold the weight I intended it to. I was sad and alone. I hope that you understand what a positive role you played in my life. As an adult, I can appreciate that so much more.
 To the man who was once my Step Dad, you did a great job.

How Pinterest is Killing Your Hairstylist..

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Definition of hairstylist

1. :  hairdresser; especially  :  a person who does creative styling of coiffures.  By definition, I do my job. By pinterest standards, you people want a miracle.  My job looks super fun, easy and a lot like "dress up". Some days, it is those things but at the end of every day, it is a job. It is work. I have lots of clients, sometimes I don't remember all of your names, sometimes I forget that you like to be toned, I'm never going to remember what we did three colors ago and I do my best to remember that you have 2 kids, a boy? two boys? shit, twins! How is your new dog? That wasn't you? OH! You had a baby.. divorce? No, new marriage.. thats right.  "Where the fuck does Pinterest come into play?"Let me break it down for you.. YOU ARE NOT GOING TO LOOK LIKE THE MODELS IN THE PICTURE. Chances are, I did not do her hair, she is photoshopped and in perfect lighting and YOU are not HER. YOU are not a mermaid, you are not a rainbow, you are not a unicorn or "green with envy". "Chocolates, Mochas and Cinnamon's" are not shades of color. They are coffee drinks and spices - if you want that, stop at Starbucks before you come see me. (but also, bring me one too!) MOST of my clients pay me to get rid of gray but because Pinterest said it's all the rage, you want me to bleach out your black and make you silver, in one shot. I am not a miracle worker, I am a stylist. Chances are, if you bring me 16 pictures, all of something or nothing the same.. we are going to consult and come up with a game plan. If you don't know what you want and you don't want what's exactly in the picture but you don't know how to put into words what you need from me, I am going to do my best but I am not a mind reader. I am a hair stylist. Do you know what "Rainbow Slush" or whatever the eff those colors all perfect-side by side on the picture you found on Pinterest look like after a couple of washes? MUCK! They look like muck. THEN you're mad me me, because it didn't last. I know, that sometimes the best way to convey what you want to me, is via a picture. But what happened to the good ol' days of bringing in a picture of Jennifer Aniston and understanding that I could color your beautiful tresses  but you would not BE Jennifer Aniston?! Pinterest is what happened. Pinterest came along and allowed you to "pin to a board" titled, "Hair dreams" or "Hair goals" or #imslowlysuckingthesoulfromkristianne .. IDK what your board is called but it should definitely be that hashtag one. Anyway, these boards have given you the ability to be even more indecisive then you already were and has set me up, to mostly fail. Ya'll know, I LOVE the fun, "pop" colors. I love some pink, purple and mostly turquoise.. BUT WHY do you now want me to put it underneath, to never be seen unless your hair is up and in a 45 degree angled pony tail? Also, WHY do you want ALL the colors?!  Pinterest has also been misinforming you. You guys will send me a picture of "sun kissed balayage" .. when really, thats a "rooty" color with some grown out highlights. I know that the internet re-naming these things allows most of us stylist to slap a higher price tag on your pinterest-y needs but you all know, I try my best to keep it real and be reasonably market priced. What I am saying is.. I love you all but I can not make you look like a "Mermaids swirl tail" or any of the other BS the internet is telling you that you should want or need. One last thing: I am not showy. I am not Edward Scissor Hands. Showing me video after video of another stylist cutting someone's hair in a platform style, is not going to make me perform for you. I am never going to be the dramatic, hair flinging, fire burning-hair cut with a torch, stylist.I am Kristi-Ann. The hairstylist you have loved for years. The stylist who will tell you that, "Yes, that cut will not look good but the alternative will!" ... I am the stylist who is going to tell you, "Yeah, I'll turn you Gray but by the time we can get you there and get all your black boxed color off, this "in" look is going to be gone."  Mostly, I want to tell you that I will continue to grow in my profession, I will continue to try but your un-realistic wants and your Pinterest boards are slowly killing me. Someday's, they make me hate my job more then anything in the world. Your Pinterest boards are sucking the hair soul right out of me. Also, to answer those of you who don't already know: No, I don't have a Pinterest. (I did when it first came out but then I realized I was a "Do-er" and not a "pinner" and had to "delete".)I love you all. I appreciate all of you. I appreciate your patience and your understanding of my recent price increase's. I appreciate your love, support and your desire to come to me, despite my foul mouth and the sometimes crass conversations. I hope this made most of you laugh but for real - be nice to your hairstylist. We give our all, 97.6% of the time and we are professionals but we don't know it all- though we try our best to figure it out. <3