Today marks one month since Ash’s death. It’s been an incredibly long, yet incredibly short month. My boys and I are still standing. Thing 1 just got straight A’s on his last interim report, Thing 2 just sang “Jingle Bells” in his preschool Christmas program. Life goes on. I’m proud that my boys are still thriving. They’re surrounded by great family and friends to help navigate them through these rough waters so to speak (Jesus, I’m getting metaphor-ey – can’t be a good sign of things to come!)

I didn’t realize how hard today was going to be. I feel sad, tired and way older than my 37 years. Yesterday I wrote about how strong I am. Today I feel the complete opposite of that. I cried in the elementary school. I teared up at the preschool Christmas program. I’m crying sitting here thinking how tired I am. Selfish cow – present!

Here’s what I have done in the last month:

Cried.

Laughed.

Yelled. Mostly at my dogs and children.

Apologized. Mostly to my children for all the said yelling.

Drank too much.

Eaten too much.

Gone out with friends.

Got a fence.

Got new blinds.

Replaced my bedding.

Booked a trip to Disney. And Universal Studios. (don’t tell my kids)

Cleaned up limitless amounts of dog piss in my carpet. (Someone, for the love of me or God or dog, take this damn puppy – I’m kidding – sort of.)

I’ve questioned life.

I’ve questioned God.

I’ve questioned Ash.

I’ve cursed even more than usual. Which is a lot. Like a lot a lot.

We saw Santa. (Colt doesn’t want socks if you were wondering)

We watched a parade. (you know the one)

I’ve lost 4 pounds (only 104 more to go!)

I started doing yoga daily.

I started jogging (less often than daily).

I’ve talked to friends.

We’ve visited with family.

We put a puzzle together.

We endured our first holiday.

We’ve done countless, meaningless tasks every single day for the last month.

Life has gone on. It didn’t stop for our broken hearts. It just keeps on keeping on. And we’re keeping up. But today, I don’t feel like keeping up. I feel like curling up on my couch with a warm blanket and hugging my babies tight and crying until my eyes hurt. But that’s not possible either because have 2 basketball practices and Christmas programs and haircuts. Because life goes on. Whether we want it to or not. Whether we’re ready for it to or not. Life goes on.