Is one allowed to perform her own welfare check? Probably not. Alas, here I am, doing it anyway. As should be our right, to check in on ourselves, try to find some self awareness and come clean about where we are today. Happy New Year. Yes, I’m 3 plus months late and too many dollars short to even count but Happy New Year anyway.

Life has been plugging along. I finally have a healthy Jack, back in action, on the field, doing what he loves. Now if the weather could stop fucking up our sporting lives, we’d be really getting somewhere. He’s 14 now, taller than me, wearing some of Deady’s old sweatshirts and constantly shocking me with his self motivation and positive attitude. The kid has come a long way. I think Deady would be proud.

Meanwhile, Colt and I are finally finding a rhythm of cohesiveness that we’ve not had before. It’s no secret that he and I have been butting heads for years. It’s also no secret that we have been calling him The Wonderfully Weird Mr. Tolt since he was knee high to a grasshopper (side note – that’s a dumb saying, he’s never been knee high to a grasshopper, nor has any child for that matter. Maybe Tinkerbell?). Anywho, from a very young age, he’s had that nickname. I’ve been recently doing some research. And maybe, by research, I mean I’ve been watching show after show after show based on and around teens on the spectrum. As well as google search after google search after google search. And while this method is not necessarily the most intellectually sound, it has offered me quite a bit of insight, help and ultimately patience when it comes to raising my little Sugar Bear (another ridiculous nickname). I started with Love on the Spectrum. And it didn’t start out as research, it just piqued my interest. After the first episode, I was obsessively hooked. It was like looking at my life in a mirror, so many similarities in my boy reflecting back at me. From the collecting of things to the social anxiety to the bluntness almost to the point of rudeness to the stubbornness to the math brilliance to the science fiction obsession to the fixation on only 3 different types of food. You get the picture. So many likenesses blowing my mind. And while he’s not been diagnosed by a medical professional (although I have stayed at a Holiday Inn Express), and while I would classify him as high functioning, there’s not a doubt in my mind that my Wonderfully Weird Mr. Tolt is on the spectrum. I’ve been filling my brain with as much information as I can and it all makes so much sense. Not only that, but I’ve finally learned patience where he is concerned whereas before I’ve been known to fly off the handle at his ticks that make him tick. It’s been eye opening and just the best darn thing that’s ever happened to our relationship.

As for my own welfare, I’m hanging in there. Therapy went so well that I recently “graduated”. So mentally sound I am. Or so good at pretending I’m mentally sound. Jokes. Sort of. I went to the lady doctor. Learned a few things that I already knew. 1. I am/was depressed to the point that chemical intervention is necessary. B. I’m clinically obese (eek) and 3. I have high cholesterol (not shocking with my living large status). (On the flip side, Colt went to the doctor this morning and his BMI was 15 – so according to Google, he’s malnourished and anorexic. If we just average his BMI with mine, we’ve got a solidly normal and healthy human and life is all about averages, not necessarily the highs and lows. I know what you’re thinking, I should put my google Phd to use and become a bonafide doctor).

So, I started an anti-depressant back in December. At first I thought it was trying to kill me with its side effects – racing heart, couldn’t catch my breath, excessive yawning, jittery heart attack feelings – just real methy in nature (or what I would think meth does, I’ve not actually done meth, just to be clear – I have enough natural acne, no need to add to it). My therapist later let me know that this was my body adjusting to not feeling like a giant piece of shit all the time (probably not the words she used) and it took some time to adjust to all the dopamine making its presence known. I am elated to report that all the meth feelings went away and I am feeling so much better. It’s even been suggested that perhaps I cut back my dosage as my new feelings of happiness are a bit “much”. What can I say? I like to be an over achiever. (I can’t even keep a straight face. That’s not even a little bit true.)

To tackle the other 2 issues, I’ve joined a weight loss program and high stepped my work out routine. I’ve also mostly quit drinking, which has also done wonders for my mental health and the way I sleep. Have I completely quit the alcohols? No. I just accidentally got too drunk this past weekend. But I had a real problem for a real long time. And I’m all about progress, not perfection. I’m a constant work in progress. It’s best to give ourselves grace, try our best and learn from our failures. Thank you for coming to my KELLIE Talk. Anywho, I’m happy to report, I’m down 10 pounds since December. It was kind of tricky with all the holidays thrown in and then I went on vacation, and excuses are like assholes, everybody’s got one and I’m no different. But, again, progress, not perfection. And hopefully all these changes will get the cholesterol back where it needs to be. And if not, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I don’t know who we is. There’s no mouse in my pocket.

So, there you have it folks. All my secrets. Got the depression. Got the medicine. Got the fat. Making the changes. Got the 2 sons. My heart is full. (insert vomit emoji here). Life without Ash was not planned. But life is for the living and he be dead. So here we are, keeping on keeping on.