Not a photo dump.

Things have been completely emotional lately, I get so tired day of the constant battle I have trying to keep peace in my home. For so many years I thought it was just my parenting skills were seriously lacking. But as I have grown in myself, and found more things out about my own children, I find that less of it is my fault than I thought. First of all, with your oldest child being bipolar, the temperament of the family revolves around that child. In fact when she is good, we are all good. When she is manic, we are own man. It's really hard to explain but the thing I understand the most is that instead of beating myself up or feeding my children up, I eat all of my feelungs.
Not helpful. There is so many victories on this topic but there are so many failures to maybe tomorrow I'll try to talk about them more.

Neglect and Remorse

Last week I went to the funeral of my once sister in law.  She was my first friend int the Swaner family.  She helped me wade through the treacherous waters of becoming a member of a family, that I did not feel welcomed to.  She cried with me, when my feelings were hurt, she laughed with me when I chose that route.  She walked miles and miles with me, as we tried to figure out our roles as wives, and new mothers.  She truly was my first example and friend as to what a new extended family would be.  She stood up for me at my wedding.  She invited Dave and I  over for (the most fabulous, never to be topped) Chocolate Cake, every single time she made it.  She invited up to watch Seinfeld and ER with her and my brother-in-law.  She ran down to Salt Lake to meet my daughter, and be there for me weh n I became a mother.  She was my friend.
After she and my brother in law divorced, we remained friends.  Friends enough.  I wanted my brother in law to know that we loved him and supported him, as he was our family.  I wanted his new wife to not feel as though she was now our family, and never second to the first.  I don't regret that.  Its what I wanted, and it was good.  But her funeral was hard.  I remember all that she was to me. 
I just got side tracked!
One thing that this funeral reminded me of- is legacy. History.
She was a dedicated scrap booker.  Her life was documented.  It was a beautiful sight.  I reminded me of why I started this blog.  I don't care if anyone reads this.  I don't.  I just need to keep a history of my life and my family.  I need to get back to this horse.  It may just be feelings, a log of our comings and goings, and pictures of all my beautiful children.  
Thank you Friend, for reminding me.
I will miss you.