Thank you for not killing me. I know I probably deserved it.

With the Mother's Day weekend upon us I am forced once again to reflect on why I really don't like this holiday.  I made the poor gal at the bank uncomfortable when in her best customer-service-perk she inquired as to whether or not I had children, and then if I had "exciting plans" for Mother's Day. I told her honestly I'd rather skip it.
"But it's your day!"
Is it? Really? Or is it for the most part an anti-climactic day that is not really as great as we tell you it is? Maybe I've just been disillusioned over the last 18 years worth of Mother's Days. Perhaps it's the teenager's apathy to pretty much everything that has rubbed off on me. But, there is this commercial build-up that is never really attainable. The commercials depicting the "surprise" breakfast in bed and little velvet box from our somehow-still-smitten husband are kind of crap.
Now don't get me wrong, I've had my share of great Mother's Day celebrations. I have been woken up by 3 smiling children with partially-toasted toast, not quite perfectly prepared coffee, and a beautiful new jewelry box (which still sits on my night side stand). I have had my husband attend church with me less-begrudgingly than usual, and then take me to my favorite restaurant with reservations he'd made weeks in advance.
For the most part they fall flat. Not for lack of effort or desire on the part of my husband and my kids, but simply because there is just no way for me to just have a whole Day. Could you go to work and simply sit there all day while everything happened around you? This public delusion that as Mom's we are somehow on vacation one day a year is ridiculous.
I don't want to go out to an over-crowded restaurant for breakfast/lunch/dinner. I'd rather cook. And I'd rather not spend the whole time thinking about the small mortgage the bill is going to be for taking this many people out anywhere. I don't want my husband to go out and buy a gift and flowers because the calendar says he should. I know it's a lot to expect, but I'd love it if he'd just bring home flowers on his way home from work because he thought I'd like it when he stopped to pick up the milk I forgot earlier. Or a whispered "you really don't suck at this" would be nice. I could skip the half dozen cards from the kids, whose only involvement was signing what he shoved under their noses (I do really like the mushy ones that I get from my husband though). The best gift I could have from my kids? Do your friggin' laundry. All of it. Like I would do it. Just once. Please. Ignore the snarky remark from your sister. Just this once. Don't make a snarky remark to your sister. Just this once. Please. Refrain from all the discussion about all the stuff you have planned for someone else's mom that is just so awesome. I can run through my list of why I'm failing miserably at this mom thing without reminders, thanks.
Now as a grown child I have a different view on Mother's Day for my own mother (and mother-in-law; thanks for that boy of  yours, by way. He's pretty awesome). It's the reminder I need to send my mom flowers because she really should get them more often and for no reason. And I know she understands that raising a family is a lot of work and I can barely remember who I'm supposed to pick up at which school before what activity; let alone remembering to be appreciative of the fact that's she's my (his) mom. As a grown child, Mother's Day is an opportunity to send flowers or a gift that, regardless of the card, says "Thank you for not killing me. I know I probably deserved it.". 
Hopefully I'll get there with my kids one day. If they make it...

Happiness is a made bed

For all that is holy this is one of those things that just makes me happy. It's right up there with valet parking and coffee made by someone else. You'd think that I would  be one of those people that makes their bed every day with the great appreciation I hold for this simple part of every day life; I'm not. But I'm working on it.
I've been struggling lately with being happy. There's a restlessness and unease about me that I don't like. I love my husband, my children, and my life. There's just some external factors that weigh heavy on my head and have just made things difficult for me. But, over our Christmas vacation I was able to get some much needed rest and release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.  I've always been one to trot out the phrase "If you're not happy with your life,  change it". I'm a firm believer in this. A life is either moving forward or becoming stagnant. If you are not happy with something change it. If you don't like the results, try something else. Like many people get, I've been caught in my own web of "this sucks". I'm stomping my feet and shouting at the heavens about how much I don't like XYZ and not making any forward momentum.

So I've changed my tactic. There are things I'm not happy with and can not change. There are things that I am working on that are going to take time. Patience is not one of my virtues. (Stop laughing, I have them!) There are things in my life that I can control. I am very affected by my surroundings.  Mess makes me anxious. You couldn't tell that right off based on the normal state of my house but it's true. Right now I am striving to put my physical house back in order so that I might be able to get my mental "house" (yeah, I see it. Shut up) back to something that resembles normal. Well, normal for me.
I've worked my butt off this weekend trying to restore some order in my house and my head. I've cleaned the kitchen repeatedly (the dishwasher is running for the 5th time in 2 days). I've added art and pictures to the walls. I cleaned out the cat box (totally not my yob man), cleaned up the dining room, done laundry, and cleaned my bedroom. Most importantly for me right now is my bed is made. I'm about to turn in for the night and I'm excited by the fact that I get to climb in a made bed. I'd be over-the-moon if the sheets were fresh but I had my limits this weekend. I did more this weekend than I have in a month. But I feel better for it. I want to continue this momentum for as long as I can. My goal is to make my bed every single day. This I can control. This makes me happy. This is what I will concentrate on, and I will not dwell on what I can not change and what I can not control.
What is one thing that you could do every day that makes you happy?

Long Time No See

I can't believe how long it's been since I've been here. It seems that life has gotten in the way of writing about life.
We've settled into the new house - sort of. I still need to get pictures on the walls and the kitchen (more) organized but for the most part we're settled.
The girls are doing fantastic. They keep me running most days. But I love it .
Recently the older girls and I took a trip to Las Vegas to visit with my friend Daniel. It was a much needed vacation and break from routine. During dinner we had a great conversation about life and what we're doing and where we're going. What our goals are and what we're dreaming about. I mentioned something about getting a "real job" once Fiona and Georgiana are school age. We talked about what ideas I have and what I want to do. Honestly it's not really all that amazing. There's no real life-dream thing that I want to do. I felt foolish at 35 still having the "I-don't-know-what-I-want-to-do-with-my-life" conversation.  I love this blog (not that you can tell from the amount I post or anything) and I'd love to take up photography with some kind of seriousness. Baking has always been something I enjoyed and we once toyed with the idea of owning a bakery. But, for the most part, I don't have much of a Bucket List. (My Lord I'm boring!)
This conversation was something that really bothered me. I percolated in my brain for the rest of the night and well into the next day.  The thought that came back time and time again was "I have all I want". But there has to be more... Doesn't there? The more I thought about it the more I realized that no, what I have and where I am is enough. I have FIVE beautiful, healthy, and fun kids. Five. I have a husband that adores me. Even when  he shouldn't - let's be honest, I'm kind of a pain in the ass. I have a house I love (with a pool!), enough money to manage, a running vehicle, food on the table, clothes in the closet. I am able to give my kids what they need - love, attention, discipline, full bellies. I am content.
When I was growing up things were not ideal. My parents all had issues that didn't leave much room for me. At times I'm angry. At times I'm resigned. For the most part I've come to understand that my parents are human and even though I had to suffer through their mistakes it was no fault of mine. I knew early on that I did not want to make the same mistakes with my children that were made with me and I feel like I've done a pretty good job on that. Not that I haven't made mistakes. I'm far from perfect, but I feel like I've done my absolute best with my children. And the older I get and the more experience as a mother I have the better I feel about what I'm doing.
My point in this is that I had the realization that I AM doing what I love.  I am living the dream, so to speak. What I will do when the littlest girls are finally in school and I have the time and attention span for a "real job" when the time comes is still up in the air. I have ideas. I have things that I think I could do for the next 25 years. But the time for decisions is not now. Now I get to enjoy this dream "job" that I have. It's not easy, there's no days off, there's no sick-days and the pay sucks; but they benefits are nothing short of extraordinary!
I am making a point to get back here regularly to update and write and use the part of my brain that this satisfies more often. I miss it.I hope that I haven't lost both of the people that stop by to see what's going on and peek in my virtual medicine cabinet.
Remember to count your blessings and realize that you may be closer to living the dream than you think you are.

Realization and Acceptance

I've come to realize that a daily blog update isn't going to happen. I would love to have that blog with the daily anecdotal bit that is funny and engaging with a weekly topic or a sometimes when-did-she-get-so-smart piece that makes everyone stop and think. But in reality I'm a mom with 5 kids, a part-time job and a full time household. I don't think I'm doing the people that read this thing any favors by trying to crank out posts that don't have any energy behind them.  I can't sit down and in five minutes rock out something that I'm happy with.  Well, not daily anyway.  
I mentioned here about working on a vision for what I want the blog to be and how I want to benefit myself, my family and both my readers.  I'm still working on that. But what I am learning about it in this process is what I don't want.  I don't want mindless dribble.  Now while I recognize that most of the point of this blog IS mindless dribble, it is my specific mindless dribble. What I am not happy with what happens when I try to crank out something I don't feel.  
This blog is about my life. It's about being a wife, a mother, and a woman and hopefully finding balance in it all. It's about what's crazy when you have five daughters. It's holding a marriage together, keeping my house from falling down around our ears and just living this one life that we have been given to the fullest.  Some days my cup runneth over. Some days the cup is just too damn small and now there's a big friggin' mess and oh-wait-of-course-don't-all-jump-up-at-once-mom-will-get-it-don't-strain-yourself.
I will keep this as updated as I can. It is something that I would like to be able to be a little more on top of. It's one of my current goals (I really should write those down) and something I'm working on. We'll see how it goes!

Here Comes the Sun (dodedodo)

Things are slowly starting to get better.  Sort of.
It's a process. A painfully slow process.  I want what I want and I want it NOW. I'm not good at waiting and have zero patience. Instant Gratification should be my middle name. 
The girls'  schedule is crazy. I'm running to the school a couple times a day sometimes. They are learning that driving to the school 300 times in a day makes Mom nuts and so have been very good about staying a little extra here and there.  Thankfully both of the older girls have after school activities. This way it's not always the same kid waiting for the other one to be done.  Jane has a great after-school program that she just loves so that's extra helpful, too. That way I don't have to worry about picking her up around the others' practice schedules. 
Fiona is on her second day care provider and about to be done there.  Both women have still been in jammies when I got there.  This is your job and I'm giving you money, put on a bra! Just sayin'. So I may have to just say screw it and figure out something else. I know I'm not paying much, but it's only 2 days a week. I remember having much better luck with in-home care when the bigger girls were little. The time she's been in day care has been great. I've actually gotten a lot done (I even have time to update the blog!). And it's been a great break for me. Georgie is still little and is rocking an awesome nap schedule so I can't really complain there. I made the tough decision to to stop nursing her (I'll discuss that later) and I haven't cried about it once today so I think that just might be OK, too. 
It'll get worked out.  It always does.
We're having new furniture delivered today and I'm pretty excited about that.  It seems to all be coming together just enough to keep me from a total breakdown.  Hopefully I haven't just jinxed it, but time will tell. 
I might actually get back to looking like I know what the heck I'm doing and feeling like I'm not going to implode.

Thanks everyone, for hanging on. It was getting a little dark around here, and that actually helped me pull myself out. I realized that I couldn't post another "This Sucks Because" blog or I was going to take this whole thing straight down the toilet. I hope you'll stick around to see what happens next.

Make It SHINE!

Disclaimer: This here post is what’s known as “over-sharing”. If the knowledge that you’re going to be reading about something that happened to my va-jay-jay is a little more than you can handle I totally understand.  For the rest of you… you’ve been warned.

I bought a deal on Living Social for a Brazilian and eyebrow wax. Or, what I like to call the “Eye-brow and Thigh-brow” combo pack. This is something I’ve really wanted to do for a long time but never been able to scrape up the courage to actually do it! Toss it at me at 50% off and add in an eyebrow wax on top of it? Amen! I’m in there. Well, more accurately, the salon lady was “in there”, but we’re not that far in the story yet. Anyway. I was telling a girlfriend that I had actually bought the package and I was going to go do it.  She asked if I was nervous.

Um…d’uh! Lady with hot wax gonna pull the hair off my lady-parts! Yeah, nervous seems to cover it. Apparently what scared her the most was having to walk in the salon and saying “Hi, here’s my junk! Now wax it and make it SHINE!”. See, these are the people I hang out with.

I get to my appointment this morning and I’m nervous.  Jessica, the gal at Fleur de Lis Spa and Boutique, was super nice. She asked if I had done this before and if I was nervous (see above). Now understand that the salon was beautiful and there was The Beatles playing softly in the background. Could it be any more perfect? She hands me a “spa-panty” and tells me to get undressed from the waist down and put them on and she’ll be back.  I’m not really sure of the reason behind the spa-panty. Are we really trying to preserve my modesty when I’ve paid you money to rip hot wax off of my vagina with a narrow strip of muslin? I’m pretty sure there are 17 states in this fine country of ours where I’d be arrested for being in a room with no pants, another woman, hot wax and a box full of popsicle sticks in the first place. Modesty is really no longer an issue.

I’ll skip too much detail but will say that surprisingly it wasn’t that bad. No really. Like getting your eyebrows waxed… only not. There was only two spots where I was really questioning whether or not I could leave right then and have to later (willingly) explain to my husband why I had a partially bald vagina. 

Jessica says: “there’s usually one spot that feels like your vagina is actually getting ripped OFF” Gee, ya think.

I will say that the Brazilians are some twisted, Commie bastards.  I learned one inalienable truth of the universe today: Any time you’re laying on your side in a spa-panty and someone says to you “now don’t let your cheeks touch” nothing good is going to happen!! You’re not about to win the lottery. The Easter Bunny is not going to leave you a basket of jellybeans. Your husband is not going to finally take out the fucking trash without being asked (ok, that one might happen but I think that’s a different type of blog you should be looking at and I’m pretty sure you’re gonna need to be 18 and have a credit card). Oddly, not the worst part of my day.

For those that are wondering, totally worth it. And yes, I’d do it again. Are you really surprised?

Home Birth vs. Hospital Birth

As it gets closer and closer to my due date we are starting to get things in order.  At some point I have to pull out the infant clothes and wash the tiny diapers. It might be a good idea to order some more snappis, too.  I’ve paid the deposit to our doula. At my next appointment my doctor wants to check my cervix for changes. Baby has dropped. Significantly. 

As we are looking how quickly this is all approaching we are at a point where the “where” of the whole thing is looming before us. And honestly I’m torn. The midwife we’ve chosen is wonderful. But she lives an hour and a half away. North of Seattle, without traffic. Which is fine if I have the good sense to go into labor around midnight.  But truthfully it’s not a big deal when it’s someone I trust and have faith in their experience. Not like I have a plethora of options either. I’ve talked to other midwives and while I’m sure that they’re fine, I haven’t quite gotten that “feeling” with them that I have with her. So I’m willing to accept the travel time and even the possibility of an accidental “unassisted” birth. My doula has been with laboring women almost as long as I’ve been alive so I don’t feel like I would be alone.

I have been adamant that I wanted to have this baby at home. I want to crawl into my bed and pull the covers up and snuggle my husband and our new baby and all my girls all at the same time. I want the sights/sounds/smells of my own home and relax in the familiarity of it all. I want my house and my family all together.

Or do I?

I reluctantly took the hospital tour.  St. Elizabeth’s is a wonderful, brand spanking new, hospital. I’m pretty sure they’re still walking around taking that plastic film-y stuff off of the electronics. They are supportive of natural birth and have never had a ban on VBAC. My doctor lives in town. All things considered it’s really rather nice.  When I was there the nurses were very sweet.  I asked what the average stay was and she said “24-48 hours, depending on your doctor. I know if I had four other kids at home I’d enjoy the quiet time!”. It was cute and jovial and with no malice in it.  I kind of laughed her off and thought of this blissful picture I had of us all puppy piled in my bed while my birth team puttered around the house. 

But the last couple weeks have been rough. I keep hearing that nurse in my head. How nice would it be? Just a day. Maybe two. Just me and Georgiana and Doug. Other people to bring me stuff.  Not feeling like I had to get up and do anything. Time to sleep and nurse and just love on my newest daughter.  Let’s face it, this house and this family are my whole world. This is my stress and my joy. My accomplishments and my failures.  I feel guilty for thinking that at some point my husband might have to leave his wife and daughter and come home to sleep in an empty bed. Is it fair for me to think of this as time for myself.  I’m having a baby, not going to a spa. It’s a hospital not a resort.

On one hand I have my belief that I am having a baby, not sick, so I have no need to go to the hospital.  I have had four children already and two VBACs I can look back and be proud of.  I don’t need to go to the hospital. But am I standing on principle only in this decision? I trust my doctor to be understanding of my desires and to follow my birth plan. I don’t anticipate a fight against interventions. I trust my body to do what it is designed to do. It doesn’t matter if I am at home, in a hospital or on the moon – I am having this baby. Am I looking for a home birth to simply be able to say that I have fought the system and have done it? Malpractice and insurance policies and social conformity be damned? I just don’t know. At this point I think I’m just a crazy person and should probably be committed. (Preferably somewhere sunny, sandy and with a pretty Jose to bring me umbrella drinks.) I don’t have the traumatic c-section stories that I hear. I don’t have a panic-inducing distrust of hospitals as a whole. My c-section was 100% necessary and life saving for Allie. I don’t need to heal from that experience, like so many women I have come in contact with.  My VBAC with Jane was handled horribly and dangerously but we both came out just fine.  I can even put a funny spin on it when necessary.  My VBAC with Fiona was awesome and empowering and while there are a couple things that weren’t “perfect” they aren’t things that I hold any real animosity because of. Could it have been easier? Absolutely. Am I scared or afraid because of what happened? No. I pushed that 9lb 7oz baby out of my vagina without drugs and with limited interventions. I did it and I have that to hold dear.  I don’t live in an area where I will have to fight for every natural, intervention-free moment.  I have support and love that will surround me.

Financially we will come out about the same. It’s either in cash up front to the midwife or in payments to the hospital because of our deductible. Either way the money is spent. It’s just a matter of who I write the check to.

Honestly as I write this I feel like I’m leaning more towards the hospital. That day or so break sounds good. I know what I am like and the responsibility of the house and the family weighs on me.   My mom will be here to visit with the girls and help.  I just don’t know. I guess we’ll wait and see. 

Does anyone have any thoughts?

Some things we never leave behind

It's funny to me how sometimes there are things that we expect to leave behind us because we are adults. There insecurities and the sometimes incomplete sense of self that you expect will go away once you "know who you are". As we get older we are able to look back over our lives and see things that were the "end of the universe" to us as children and teenagers, with the clarity of experience, and understand how inconsequential those thoughts/feelings were. In the grand scheme of things the problems of Then are so small in the Now.
Once we have children we watch them go through some of the same situations that we did. While the circumstances are never the same, the situations are. I watch my daughters go through the same struggles that I did as a young girl. While it breaks my heart to see that they are having to fight with these things I know that the experiences are going to make them The Woman She Will Become.
Sometimes though, it doesn't happen like that. I am that Woman.  As we age we are (or at least should be) constantly evolving. We are learning from our experiences and forming new relationships. Our personalities are like a muscle that is constantly exercised. While the same basic shape is there, the abilities are forever changing. Every once in a while though, we are forced to come face to face with the fact that we have not overcome things that we had expected we would or even thought we had.
I had a conversation with Krysty last night that brought this very thing to light. While getting the basics of what was going on was a slow and painstaking process getting to the root of the matter was much simpler. I watched as she looked at me with increasing sense of awe as I was able to put exact words to her feelings. Feelings that she couldn't quite explain herself. "You're feeling like this, and this, and this". "This is a problem here, here and here. What other people don't get is THIS". No, I am not a mind reader. But I am Mom. I come with my own experiences and yes, sometimes those experiences will mirror your own, Kid. I know from experience exactly how you are feeling because I went through that, too. I have the wisdom that comes from living through it and being able to have the hindsight of an adult to look back and understand what is going on with you now. Unfortunately there is nothing that I can do to change it. I can't stop it. Here are some tools, some tricks, and the best words of advice I can offer you but that's all I have.
I hope for now that it is enough. I hope that one day she can look back at this conversation and understand that I am doing the best that I can. Maybe this will stand out as one of my finer moments. A mom can dream, can't she?
In trying to explain the situation to Doug I realized that this is not only something that I Once dealt with, but is something that I Am dealing with. I know that it was difficult for him to understand what she was going through. I know he doesn't understand and doesn't know what to do to help her because he is unable to recognize it or help me while I struggle with the same issue. Intellectually I understand how his brain works and where the discrepancy is in the situation.  It's not that he's  unwilling to help. It's that he does not recognize the problem as I do and sees no need for resolution. There's no need to fix something that isn't broken.  If he does acknowledge the problem there is still little that he can do to help because he lacks the skills necessary to be part of the solution. The old adage holds true here that "If you are not part of the solution you are part of the problem".  This is something that we have struggled with for the entirety of our relationship. For me, it's like having something stuck under your contact lens.
I would've rather hit the corner of something hard with my pinky toe than have had to come to this realization.  Finding yourself racked with the same insecurities as your 15 year old daughter is difficult. Facing those insecurities while struggling with the shortcomings of someone you love sucks.
I went to bed with a head full of questions and problems there seems to be no solution to or chance or resolution for.
It was a long night.

It's a Small, Small World

The internet has suddenly made the world tiny. I've had repeated conversations with friends that have found - or been found by - random people from the past.  Old boyfriends/girlfriends, high school pal, or just people they've known and lost track of. I've looked up people myself.  I had one of those experiences myself recently.
I was reading through my facebook page and saw that one of my friends had just become friends with a name I found familiar. It's a common name and I figured it was just a coincidence. It didn't seem possible that this particular person from my past could be friends with this fairly new friend.  So I clicked on the link and there was a picture and it was in fact the old flame I thought it was.  I've talked to a couple people about it and they've said I should email or say hello. But I don't really want to. We had an odd relationship, and to resurface that 15+ years later seems silly. Plus our mutual friend has close ties with someone I grew up with and I don't know how much of that time I am willing to rehash.  There's nothing particularly bad or dark that I want to hide, there's no real skeleton that I'm interested in keeping in a closet.  I made pivital decisions during that time and I don't want to go back.  The flame burned fast and bright and I'd rather remember him as he was at 20 that know who he is now at almost 40.
Fast cars, ocean air and lots of laughs make for good memories. I wish him the best and hope that his life has turned out as well as he had hoped it would.
I know mine has.

So Far So Good

So far this year has been GREAT!
Easy to say heading into day four but in an attempt to take each day as it comes, So Far, So Good! It is the New Year. A symbolic opportunity to start fresh. Simply changing the calendar can offer a glimmer of what can be. With no pages to look back on it offers at least the appearance of new beginnings. Those osf you with 18 month calendars should be ashamed of yourselves! Screwing it up for us optimistic types.
I've done a bit of reading lately on resolutions. The theory itself intrigues me. Apparently I'm not the only one since there are news articles, stories, blogs, and even Facebook updates (yeah OK guilty) on the subject. There's statistical data on the most made resolutions, the most failed resolutions, those who make the resolution to make no resolutions and even the terribly gag-me sweet gifts-to-myself people (gift of better health through fitness, gift of time through organization, blah, blah, blah). I'm obviously not immune to the whole thing. However, as the last few days have passed I've re focused my thinking and reassessed my own resolutions.
There are things I want to accomplish this year, like getting my child birth educator certification. There are things that need to get done, like the de-cluttering, organization and final unpacking of the house. OK so we've been here for 3 years and still aren't fully unpacked - but who's counting?. Things I'd like to improve on, like finally keeping this damn blog up to date and being more patient. I think making a resolution is the easy part. Having the resolve to make major changes in your life is something else.
I've been productive so far this weekend. Eight boxes have been cleared from the garage. Divided into Trash, Keep and Donate boxes. Only 2 bins will be making back to the garage. The laundry is mostly done. The kitchen is tidy and my bed is made. I think the biggest change that I have made this weekend has not been tangible. It is a change in mindset. Or at least, in all honesty, a resolve to change my mindset. I can't say specifically what it was, but so far it's working.
Part of it, I think, is just a change in wording from "I'd like to at least get my hair brush put away to " I will put my makeup and hairbrush away" and doing it. It's the understanding that sometimes this just ain't gonna happen. Part of it is being conscious of the physical. Yes, absolutely, 100%those moments of quiet and inactivity are vital to your mental well-being. But how much of that time could be better spent productively without detriment? It's asking myself the question "Can I do more before I move on?".
Right now I have made that choice. I could be reading or watching TV, but this is something I want to work on. This is something important. I started this blog as a way to update family and friends about what was going on with my last pregnancy and life in gerneral. But writing is something I enjoy and is an outlet for me. Sometimes emotional and other tims creative, but I find comfort in it either way. I write to an audiance but not always for an audiance. It's just the way my head works.
Hopefully this change in mindset should allow me to not only do more that I enjoy but more effectively keep the house from falling down around us.
My biggest worry is being able to maintain this pace. So often we fall into patterns based on momentum. I envy those whose lives are more conscious than that. I guess that's the broadest definition of what I'm looking for. My resolution, my goal, my gift to myself is a life not based on momentum and one making the conscious, physical decisions that are the best that I can make them. I know some days will be better than others. Some weeks will have more tangible results.
So far, so good.