Tell Them I was the Warmest Place You knew, and That You Turned me Cold.

Here goes.

I've laid awake in the depths of my thoughts, for countless sleepless nights, about what I needed to say in regards to my last relationship. I say "needed" because I believe that our experiences are meant to shape us, but also because I understand the value of the lessons we, and others, learn from our stories. I've pondered what happened, what I've learned, and how it affected me in ways I didn't even realized until after the dust had settled. Oh what a plot twist he was...

You saw the photos on social media... We were so in love. You saw the "happiness." He posted a romance novel about me on Facebook and Instagram every time he posted a photo of me. 200 likes and countless comments told us how perfect we were together. You saw him sing to me in videos, adventure with me, and even propose to me. You saw what you were supposed to see, because in reality, there were so many things you didn't see. That photo of me with the romance novel about me being the light of his life, followed a gut-wrenching fight where he stood in front of the bedroom door to keep me from leaving, because he had told me I was a piece of shit, no better than his ex. I had packed his things, and as I picked up each box to carry them downstairs, he violently punched each box out of my hands destroying the boxes and slinging his things all over the floor. "You think I'm such a FUCKING MONSTER!! You never take accountability for the things YOU do wrong!" He would yell. His happiness or unhappiness was always my responsibility.

I want to make something very clear; I loved him unmeasurably. The passionate love you saw on my end was genuine, and perhaps that's why I stayed for 2 years despite having started to question whether this behavior was a problem before we had even spent a year together. Unfortunately, it's not enough to just KNOW something is wrong when you love the person. He would threaten suicide, cry, breakdown and apologize and I would feel obligated to pick him back up again. I knew in my heart if I asked him to leave, he would cause a scene and I was not prepared to handle that. I did not want to be the reason he ended his life, and I didn't want to even risk finding out if he was bluffing or not. A life is a life, and I cant gamble with that, even when it costs me my peace. Perhaps that is where I went wrong.

Let's start from the beginning. I met "H" in 2018, shortly after moving to Virginia. We matched on Tinder and met in person, and clicked right away. We started officially dating about a month later and he immediately moved in with me. It was good for several months... H was my best friend, and we spent all of our time together. He started to have a heavy opinion on things about 3 months in - things like my job, my parenting, and his opinion found a way to change mine somehow. He would tell me that my job was taking advantage of me, and he fed me these opinions until one day I quit that job, which he also suggested. I didn't realize then, and maybe he didn't either, but this was a control behavior that is often used to sever the things that make a person independent, so that they will "need" their partner more (whether that is financially or emotionally etc.) He began altering the way I parented my kids, becoming more militant and strict, and just seeming overall more unhappy with anything we did. We started to walk on eggshells to keep him happy.

His moods were so quick to change. One small trigger (like my work asking me to stay an hour later to help) would send him spiraling downward into a rant about how I don't take his feelings into consideration, and how my communication skills were terrible. He would jump off of the deep end over such minor things, that I started to find peace in being away from home. I started to realize that this was something mental health related and began to do research, hoping to help guide him in a direction that would end in him seeking help from a therapist who could give him solutions to tone down these behaviors. My research all pointed to Borderline Personality Disorder, and this was later confirmed.

I am learning now, how many times I was manipulated into staying stuck in that situation. It is unnerving to see clearly how many occasions which I felt like I was trapped. "What if he burns my house down? What if he takes my kids? What if he kills himself in my house for my kids to find?" These thoughts seem extreme, but when you've watched a grown man get on the floor and slam his head into the floor over and over until he gave himself a concussion while screaming uncontrollably, its a reasonable fear. I just wanted to get out without the blow up, and I didn't know how. Often times in the heat of his blow ups, I would muster up the strength to demand him to leave, but he would up the ante and hurt himself until I backed down. I became depressed, I started gaining weight, and my anxiety was worse than ever.

It didn't get better even after I finally left, as I struggled to stay strong and push away someone I loved, who was trapped inside of someone I was afraid of. I would see glimpses of the man I loved, and wonder if there was a chance he would "get better." It's so hard to rationalize this with yourself while you are dealing with a broken heart and being manipulated at the same time. There are just too many moving parts and ultimately I am human. I went back to him so many times when I felt small and responsible for his unhappiness. I know how much that didn't help, but again, I loved him and naturally I missed him... The "him" that was trapped inside, under the rage and the borderline personality disorder. He was institutionalized multiple times, medicated, court ordered to stay away from me, and even put in jail for violating that order, and I still felt responsible for whether or not he would stand on his own two feet. It's so hard to just stand back and watch someone drown themselves in 3 feet of water, and to know that all they have to do to save themselves is to stand up - that's why I saved him, over and over again.

Even as I type this, I wonder what sort of consequence might arise if he reads it, but I need this closure. I will never claim to understand what it feels like to be him and have your mind work against you so often, nor do I want to lessen the magnitude of how mental illness can impact a persons actions as they suffer through it. I did see the pain BPD caused him, and often I was the only stability he had. If you have ever walked in these shoes, you understand. I won't go into detail about how bad it got, or how my kids were impacted. We all watched someone we loved transform into someone we didn't know, and we all have to heal from that battlefield. They say you come back from war either wounded or wiser - but I believe it's both.

The price of anything, is the amount of life you exchange for it, and while I firmly believe that I overpaid, I gained a lot of perspective from this. Someone I loved, once gave me a box full of darkness. It took 2 years to understand that this, too, was a gift.

Fat Girl Returns (read this if you followed my weight loss journey)

Welcome back family.

Sorry for the title, it will make sense here in a few. I wish I could tell you guys that this post was another smooth sailing description of my life, but lets be real... My life is smooth sailing because I choose to roll with the punches and make the most of it, not because I'm without everyday stresses and struggles.

I love that my weight loss journey inspired so many people, and that my transparency allowed people to see the real, raw process. I showed you my self hatred, my emotions, my tears and my weaknesses and stayed transparent as I overcame all of those and learned to love myself. Being truthful and honest with all of you helped keep me accountable in a way, but I also know it made your own journey seem more realistic and attainable. Its been 6 years since the day I hit my "wall" and officially couldn't take another day in my 240 pound body. Within that 6 years, I lost 100 pounds, became certified as a personal trainer in 5 different areas, was featured all over the internet, cracked under pressure to look perfect, battled bulimia (and won,) got divorced, moved cross country, trained so many AMAZING clients, gained back 30 pounds, lost it again, gained back 40 pounds, switched careers entirely, and tried to keep myself together in the process. Its not that its hard to keep the weight off, the hard part is keeping the same level of motivation when your life and you as a person change. We all do that. That is so fucking hard, pardon my language.

I quit my job as a personal trainer in May 2019, in the middle of giving all I had to my clients and making sure they had the most supportive personal trainer in existence, and my reasoning was that I needed something more. I needed something that was going to pay the bills better and be more stable. I decided to get licensed as a real estate agent in Virginia and took a leap of faith that this was my calling. Perhaps I was running away from something. See, in that timeline above, it says "gained 40 pounds back, switched careers entirely..." and that was all written in order. I gained 40 pounds back and have yet to lose it again because I let stress take over, and I chose to not control the way I eat when I'm stressed out. I switched careers because I was embarrassed to be such a heavily certified personal trainer and look anything other than perfect. Personal trainers are especially prone to disordered eating because everyone forgets we are human too, and the expectation to look flawless is strong - not to mention the way we look impacts our credibility to the public, although it shouldn't.

That's my mistake guys, because from the beginning I've preached to you guys that you have to forgive yourself for being HUMAN and approach your journey focusing on what you have to GAIN versus what you have to lose. You don't take this journey to fix yourself or to make yourself happy, or to make someone love you more... That mindset will only lead you down a rabbit hole of self hatred and you'll end up with an eating disorder the same way I did, You take this journey to focus on how STRONG you can become, how FAST you can run, how unapologetically BAD ASS you can feel and to be the best version of an ALREADY PERFECT YOU that you can be.

I let myself slip, and I gained weight back. To be exact, I weighed in at 194.2 pounds this morning. I am 5'6" so to put that into perspective, that's a size 12/14 in jeans for me. I am not proud of that number, but I want to point out a few things. I have NOT fallen back into bulimia, even with my weight gain. I have continued to live in my current body and celebrate it at its thicker size, positively (most of the time.) I knew I wasn't ready to get back up and take control again, but I chose to see the positive in that and focus on other things so that it didn't eat me alive the way it would have years ago. That's growth guys... that's pure and absolute positive growth from years of learning how my emotions work, and how easily I can fall into a dark place.

Anyhow, I got home last night and my "wall" was waiting for me I guess, because I hit that wall again and from previous experience, that's usually the start of something awesome. If you don't know what I mean by my wall, let me explain. We can all yo-yo diet for years. We start, give up, start, give up, and get no where for a long time. That's normal and it sucks, but its part of the process. One day you will wake up so uncomfortable in your own body, that the thought of doing the scary things to change it, seem easier than staying the same. That's your wall. That's your point of no return.

I have lost 100 pounds before and I can do it again. This time, I have about 55 pounds to lose. I know that posting about it keeps me accountable, so you can count on seeing it in my facebook group, my status, my instagram and wherever else I can manage to keep myself accountable. Those of you who have weight to lose, let's do this together, because it takes a village to grow as a person too, and we all need support. Day 1, 194.2 pounds...

Sarie Anne
Certified Elite Trainer (even if I gained some weight back)

Unapoligetically Bad-Ass.

Dear Baby Number 3

Good afternoon readers,

Many of you who have been friends with me for years may have seen posts of infertility struggles back in 2012/2013. On my wedding night, April 22nd, 2012, my husband and I decided we were going to try for baby #3. Our son Spencer was 7 months old, and our daughter Lacey was 2 and a half, and we wanted another little one to complete our family. Months went by with no success, and I posted sad updates on Facebook not able to understand why I was not getting pregnant. I already had 2 children, so what was wrong?

We reached the 2 year point with still no success in getting pregnant. 24 months, of tears, that failure feeling, and hundreds of dollars wasted on pregnancy tests. My heart could almost not handle more of those emotions. So many things had changed in our lives, as my husband left for the Navy, and we continued trying after he completed basic training. My posts on Facebook were no longer about our journey to have a 3rd baby, because so often it was a broken record, so I stopped telling people or posting about it. It was easier at this point to say we didn't want more kids, or that we were done trying. I tried to convince myself of that many times, but I was never really done trying, even when I said I was. We never stopped trying. 

Another year of failed attempts passed despite doing EVERYTHING as perfect as possible (i'm talking charting basal body temperature, tracking ovulation, taking vitamins, tracking MY CERVIX! eww...) It was time we saw a fertility specialist, which was long overdue. 

Our fertility specialist put us through more tests and procedures than I ever thought I would endure, but I was willing because at this point, there was a hole in my heart that needed that final baby. My kids were getting older... They were both in school all day and I was feeling like I had no purpose and that my worth as a woman was decreasing as my fertility was failing me. 

I did an HSG. This is a test where they push dye directly into your uterus through a tube with a balloon at the end to check if your fallopian tubes are blocked. I had so much anxiety over this test that I cried for weeks leading up to it, because I knew it was going to hurt. I was terrified, but I was honestly hoping my tubes would show up blocked because at that point, at least we would have answers and a new path to a solution. My tubes were clear, and we left that procedure just as clueless as before. I had so much blood drawn for so many tests and I didn't even flinch at the poke of the needle anymore. I had to give myself shots in my stomach, and I had more doctors with bright lights between my legs than I ever care to have again.

My husband was told he had a low sperm count, which was unfortunate, and that IUI (intrauterine insemination, where they concentrate his sperm through a cycle at a facility and then put it into my uterus directly via a tube put through my cervix) was our only hope for success. We tried IUI after IUI... No success.

Clomid was the medication they put me on to start. Clomid is made to help women ovulate, but my body already appeared to ovulate just fine on its own, so at this point I was just being experimented on. Clomid makes your estrogen go through the roof so as a result, I got moody, tired, and a ton of acne which put my self esteem in the dumps. Each month they increased my dosage on Clomid until last month, when I ended up having SIX mature eggs because of it. This is a LOT, and we were told we had extremely high risk for multiples. This was the month, I had mild OHSS (ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome, where your ovaries basically get overwhelmed, and swell up painfully) and was in pain most of the month. This month was rough. I didn't sleep well, I was in constant pain in areas that I had never felt before (because you don't typically FEEL your ovaries) and I was feeling defeated. Its been FIVE AND A HALF YEARS at this point of trying for baby #3. 

I bet you're expecting a pregnancy announcement huh? I wish I could do that, believe me. as we approach the end of this month, I have officially hit my brick wall. I physically can NOT handle much more, and the medication is making me miserable. At this point, the only way we could have another baby would be IVF (in vitro fertilization, which is about $13,500-$20,000) and I just cant put that in our future. So here we are, giving it all to God, and officially being DONE trying. Done with the medications. Done with the procedures. This doesn't mean "not trying, but not preventing, wink wink," it means we are putting it out of our minds entirely because it was consuming me in a way that was so depressing. There is no room for grey space, there is only trying, or not trying with me because I will ALWAYS know when I'm ovulating, and I will ALWAYS pay attention to symptoms "just in case." We are 100% done. So here is my letter to you, dearest baby #3...

Dear Ricky Rowan Bronish, or Nyla Grace Bronish, 

I hope you know how much you were wanted. I hope you know how far we went looking for answers to bring you into existence. I refinished your dresser months ago, and filled it with baby clothes and a new diaper bag, and new bottles, and a brand new ergo baby carrier. I bought you a stroller, and a baby swing and we rebuilt you a beautiful crib. I spent countless hours sewing baby blankets that I could use for you, and I couldn't wait to wrap you up in my beautiful creations. I even had a pregnancy announcement photo ready to use for you. 

 We tried honey, we tried SO HARD. You were a very real person in our future, we saw it everyday. We just knew we would meet you one day, and we had so much faith that if we just kept trying, you would surprise us. Last month was hard on me though, and I spent a lot of time unable to even care for Lacey or Spencer when I was in pain because of the medication, so we have to stop trying... I want you to know that you were a very real person to me, and would have been so happy here had we gotten the chance. I don't know what we are going to do with all of this baby stuff, but I'm so painfully attached to all of it and I need time to heal. My stomach is sick just thinking about this being the end, and I am in tears typing this. We loved you far before existence, and maybe that's crazy. I don't regret trying though, and I'll see you in my dreams kiddo....
-Mom

To all of you, here's what I want you to know: If you are pregnant now, I do NOT resent you, or have hard feelings towards you for having what I wanted so badly. I am absolutely happy for you and will never be sour towards your accomplishments. I am not ok, but I will be. It does hurt tremendously making the final call to be done, and its hard to talk about. I do absolutely love my children, and they were always just as important to me. But mostly, I will be ok. 

Total Transparency, October 2017

October 2017

This might be the scariest and most vulnerable post from me so far, so be gentle and bear with me. The courage it has taken to share this with you all is tremendous, and I hope that from this, I can shed a light on how pressure and mental illness of many types can affect people during a fitness journey.

Somewhere in early 2013 I made a promise to myself to lose weight. I had promised myself this so many years in a row, and I honestly wasn't sure if my promises to myself even meant anything anymore, but nevertheless, I made the promise. I was in a dark place, dealing with anxiety and depression, and relying on my social life for happiness. I really had put my happiness in the hands of how others looked at me, and thus began a journey...

I began my journey as expected. I didn't know anything about what I was doing, but I was eager to learn and to find the "answers." I quickly adapted to counting calories and tracking my foods, and the weight came off as expected. I exercised, I ate healthy food, and I lost weight. I did everything right, and I went through all of the right motions. Of course, it wasn't always easy and I slipped up and fell off the wagon time and time again, but I always got back up and made progress. It was successful, despite the times when it was tough, but that's not what this particular post is dedicated to...

Fast forward to 2015. I was really at the top of my game in 2015, I was featured in a Buzzfeed video, featured in Yahoo Health, featured on the Quest Nutrition blog, Fitfluential, Myfitnesspal, and so many more sites. I had quickly accumulated close to 2,000 followers on my personal Facebook page who were hungry for my next post. These people were following me because they wanted inspiration, and somehow, I had provided them with that. I had lost 95 pounds and I wanted to help everyone! I was receiving hundreds of emails a week from people I didn't know, and I undoubtedly overwhelmed with the small-scale fame I felt. I was 5 pounds from the numeric goal I had set at the beginning of my journey.

That is honestly where I think I went wrong... I was working out and eating healthy and looking uh-mazing, no doubt, but I couldn't get those stupid last 5 pounds off that would give me that glorious "100 pounds lost" title. I would work SO hard in the gym, setting new records for myself, and still inspiring others, and then go home and hate myself in the mirror, over 5 pounds. That number consumed me. There was so much pressure to continue to inspire people, and I was afraid that if I didn't reach that goal soon, that people would realize that I was somehow not worth what they initially thought I was worth. My worth was now in their hands somehow.

When I was obese, eating was how I soothed my depression and anxiety, even when I didn't realize that's what I was doing. Up until 2015, I hadn't had many issues with binge eating because I was feeling on top of the world and I wasn't feeling the pressure. The pressure was suddenly real though, and I found myself MORE miserable than I was when I was fat. I couldn't be proud of the 95 pounds I had lost, because I was too focused on the 5 pounds that I couldn't seem to lose. I felt like I was letting everyone down and I ate my feelings away. I don't honestly know how I ended up binge eating a whole package of chocolate chip cookies in one sitting, crying on my bedroom floor because I felt like a failure, or how I managed to eat a half gallon of ice cream all at once while sitting in my swimsuit in front of a mirror. I had never loathed my self so much in my life. I found myself feeling guilty about binge eating knowing it would set me backwards, and then it started...

I couldn't shake the thoughts, no matter how I tried. "You're a failure Sarie, what sort of motivational person eats cookies?" My anxiety was through the roof, and I just HAD to try and "control" the situation. I had never had my finger down my throat before and I cried the whole time. I cried because it hurt to throw up, and I cried because I hated myself so much. I found myself knowing that this was wrong, but not really understanding how I ended up in this dark place. I couldn't shake the thought that I had "done wrong" by throwing up my food, and therefore needed to be punished for it. I didn't know exactly what I meant by "punished" but the thought still lingered and it scared me to not feel in control of my thoughts. I went to the emergency room that night and had never felt more ashamed and alone in my life. It was humiliating to tell them what I had done. It was humiliating to be in an empty room with a nurse on "watch." I couldn't even say the word "throw up," because there was so much shame over it.

I began seeing a therapist for a few weeks and I really felt so much better. It seemed that I had quickly escaped the clutches of what could've been a terrible life to bulimia. How could I be better after only 3 weeks? Amazing! I stopped seeing the therapist and continued my life motivating people to lose weight the healthy way. The way I had.

I kept my secret hidden, even though I was better, because I was afraid people would think I was less credible because of it. I was worried that somehow, people would think that I lost weight by having an eating disorder and that I was a fraud. I am 100% not a fraud, and I lost weight by eating healthy and exercising and I can't stress that enough. Bulimia struck me when I was at my most fit, most active, and smallest weight. I had already lost the weight the healthy way BEFORE bulimia was a part of my life. You see, I only binge-purged, I didn't throw up my healthy food, not that it was any less dangerous.

I was great for several months after I stopped seeing the therapist, and 100% purge-free, and then my husband deployed. Deployment is hard on anyone, and its hard on a marriage and to say that we struggled is an understatement. I threw myself into hobbies, and friendships, and tried to keep busy and somewhere along the line, I had gained 30 pounds back. It was partly because I had stopped going to the gym, and of course because I stopped going to the gym, I was gaining more and more. I really tried to ignore the weight gain, and I stopped posting about fitness for a while.

My friend bulimia was not gone as I had thought. In fact, I found myself noticing that I had gained weight again and it became worse than ever. My depression was back with a vengeance and so was my anxiety. This time, it was a REAL problem, because I couldn't focus on food at all without seeing the calorie counts in my head, and if I couldn't mentally feel confident in how many calories were in the food, I had to throw it up because I was so afraid to gain more weight. This meant I could eat food like plain chicken, because I knew how many calories were in chicken per ounce, and I was good at estimating how many ounces it was from years of weighing my food. This meant however, that I could NOT eat food like chili, or something that had multiple ingredients in it because I couldn't seem to mentally calculate what I was taking into my body and I stressed over if there were added oils which meant added calories. The problem with this, is that I already knew how to lose weight properly, but my mental state was clouding my judgement and I was looking for happiness through food. At my lowest point, I was hunched over the toilet, covered in my own throw up, crying, hoping I would just have a brain aneurysm or a heart attack already because I didn't want to feel the pain anymore. I was tired of bullying myself. I felt like I was a disappointment to anyone who had ever followed me.

Here's what I need to stress: I made one mistake in my weight loss journey, and that was having a goal to lose weight as a way to "fix" myself. I chose to lose weight because I wanted to look better, feel better, and somehow be better by being skinnier. I should never have set out to lose weight as a way to fix myself, I should have set out to lose weight as a way to get stronger, healthier, and more badass. My reasons were very negative and that is what I want all of you to be very careful with. I "dieted myself" into an eating disorder because I had the wrong mindset from the very beginning. I don't want you to set numeric weight loss goals, I want you to set positive goals. You should set a goal like "I want to be able to run faster" or "I want to not be pre-diabetic." I want you to focus on health like it is a sport, something you do because you LOVE it.

If you eat off plan, you 150% do NOT need to punish yourself for that, or even feel bad. So you ate McDonald's tonight instead of your meal plan? No big deal because your goal is to have the RIGHT mindset, and you will never have a positive outcome from feeling bad about what you ate. If you eat something off plan, oh well, move forward with your day and focus on how you will happily eat on plan for the next meal. The past is not something you can change, or control, but you can control what is in front of you.

 "It happened, it's behind you." This is something I had said to myself one day and it stuck with me like nothing ever has. Fitness is something I do to challenge my muscles, so why associate it with negativity? If I was a volleyball player, I wouldn't beat myself up over eating a cookie, so why should I beat myself up over it just because I workout? Now I am not saying you should binge eat, because believe me- that is not at all something I would ever recommend. I'm saying that I know you are all human, and so am I, and that occasionally, we will eat things that might not fit into our fitness macros. Progress is not linear, and no one has ever succeeded by expecting to be 100% perfect all of the time. Your progress will probably look like this:

You will still get to your goal! So set yourself up for success from the start, and have the right reasons for losing weight or beginning your journey to health. As for myself, I still struggle with those thoughts that tell me I am not good enough, or that I should purge my food, but I am learning to silence them and correct them because that is a part of me that might always be there. Mental illness is real, and as long as I tackle it and stay on top of it the right way, I can stay out of the dark places that I don't want to be in. Remember, I did not lose weight by being bulimic, I binge ate and actually gained weight by being bulimic. My success in weight loss was real, and healthy, and the advice I give is real, and healthy, and it starts with your mindset. Healthy mind, healthy life.

in 2018, I will focus on what I love about myself, and how I can grow as a person and improve the things I love about myself through fitness. I will focus on loving myself and the amazing things I have learned that I can do. I will lift weights and run and be fantastic motivation, but not because I  believe anything about me needs "fixed." I will push you all to focus on what you love about yourself as well, and I hope that like always, my journey can help someone. I am real, and I will always be a recovering bulimic no matter how far behind me it is. I will always have anxiety but I will not always struggle because of it. I am being mindful in everything I do now, and hoping that the choices I make, and the thoughts I have, are always constructive and that when I feel bad, I can find ways to reroute those thoughts by reminding myself why I am absolutely, positively, exactly the way God made me.

Refinishing 1943 Hardwood Floors, LOTS of pics!

I'm basically a hardcore DIY'er, (that's what I tell myself, anyhow) by now I'm sure you all know that. I've embarked on almost every remodeling project that this house could possibly handle in the last year and a half. This house was built in 1943. It was really well maintained, but it was plain. In my eyes, it was a blank canvas just BEGGING for me to unleash my creativity on it. Remodeling as a DIY'er was going to be easy, I was just SO sure of that, after all, I had YouTube and Pintrest and Google. Along the way, and throughout many large projects (cutting out walls, remodeling a kitchen, installing new plumbing, etc) I had to admit, remodeling wasn't easy at all. It is very worth it, and that is probably the only reason I find myself taking on project after project here.

My most recent project, was refinishing the original hardwood floors from 1943! These beauties were covered by awful ugly office type carpet, and I was nervous at first, because we weren't sure what we were going to find under the carpet. 

We found many spots where there was scratches, spray paint, dirt, and even old linoleum adhesive caked on the floors. By the entryway, there were black peel-and-stick vinyl tiles that had to be scraped up with a scraper and they left a horrible amount of sticky residue on the wood. It took my daughter and myself 3 hours to get these tiles off of the floor, and then I had to use almost a gallon of mineral spirits to get the sticky adhesive off. I also spent WAY too long with my little palm sander trying to get all of the white spray paint off of the floors before I accepted defeat and decided to rent the square buff sander from Home Depot. It was $39 for 4 hours, so that was worth saving my back. We moved all of the furniture out to the garage at that point.

  About a year ago, I had a ductless heat pump installed in the house (an HVAC company did that one, don't worry.) We have no air ducts since this house is so old, so prior to the ductless heat pump, there were baseboard heaters. In Washington State, there is also pretty much no air conditioning in any of the homes, so it was a bonus that the heat pump was for heating AND cooling. The HVAC company disabled the power to these when they used that breaker for the heat pump a year ago, so my husband was able to remove these finally now that we had an excuse to make a mess! Taking these 3 bulky metal heaters off will open up the room, and make it look more updated.

After sanding, we decided to stain. we chose a color called "espresso," but learned that you should not stain with a lambs wool applicator, (even when the lady at Lowe's INSISTS you use that) because it goes on too thick, no matter how much you try to stretch it thin. It sure looked pretty, but it was sticky, and even after 3 days it would not fully absorb or dry. This was frustrating for us, because removing that sticky layer meant adding MORE stain to the floor to "loosen" the sticky parts, and then wiping it all down again, essentially, starting over. These pictures are from the "sticky phase"

 We finally got all of the sticky stain off of the floor, after using and ruining ALL of my dish towels (but thanks honey for the whole new set of dish towels to make up for it!!) After that, the floor just felt really... damp? It's hard to describe. It wasn't sticky anymore, but it was not like normal wood. I ran my hand across it and felt a dust that reminded me of that kinetic sand that kids play with. Ewwwwwww.

Once again, we ventured to Home Depot, to rent the floor sander. I had to return an hour after starting for 36 grit paper, and lots of it. This time around, the sand pads were gunking up beyond belief! I cant believe what that sticky stain left on the floor. It took a LOT of time to get all of that off again, and by this time, I was starting to wonder why people like hardwoods over laminate.

I expected it, but we were left with a lot of stain still in the grain and crevices. The more I looked at that bare floor, and all of those lines and grain swirls, the more I loved the contrast. After all, they sell laminate floors that are made to look rustic, exactly like what I had in front of me. I decided to run with it. On the areas where there wasn't as much grain contrast, I used a Q-tip and stain to darken the grain. it looked completely natural and you can't even tell I had to do that. When we were satisfied with the grain contrast, we decided we would not be staining again, but just applying our polyurethane directly to it!


Polyurethane takes 2-3 coats, and gets sanded between each coat. This is a lot of work, but we jumped in.



Time for poly!

 The first coat went on without a hitch. it was drying nicely, and all was going well. The only hiccup we had was my 5 year old deciding to run across it at one point when it was mostly dry, it left only a small shoe print. The print sanded out perfectly when I was prepping for coat number 2. I used 220 grit, on a pole applicator rather than the big floor sander again. It was just easier for a light sanding.

Now the 2nd coat was where the magic happened!My color became so much more rich, and the floor was a perfect satin sheen. Polyurethane is not nearly as scary as stain, because it has binding agents in it designed to make it "dry" unlike stain, that is designed to only absorb. This meant thick coats were perfectly ok for this part of the process!

Now we just have to fill in the baseboards where the heaters were, paint the walls where the heaters were, repaint the baseboards white, and add the extra trim we bought for the baseboards. We are so close to done, but not there yet, so here are a few comparison pics, keeping in mind that we are not done yet.


It really is hard to believe that this is the same home it was a year and a half ago. And this is only ONE of the projects we have embarked on. <3

I will update when we finish :)

Dear Anxiety

I know it's been said time and time again, but having anxiety is terrible. Its a level of terrible that only YOU can feel, inside your body, that no one else seems to grasp. I'm not saying it's as bad as cancer obviously, but just because there are WORSE conditions out there doesn't mean that we aren't allowed to point out the struggle in what we (we with anxiety) deal with.

Anxiety can literally ruin an otherwise good experience for someone. For example, myself, my husband and my 2 children went to the drive in theater to see the new Pirates movie. This is a drive in that is particularly busy on opening nights. They have a huge playground set up in the very front of each screen for kids to utilize while we await the movie. We were parked about 10 rows back from the playground, and my husband and kids got out of the car to head to the playground. I was in the passenger seat, and was looking around at all of the people and vehicles around us before I realized that I had no idea where my husband and kids had gone. I stared at the playground in the distance, and couldn't seem to locate them. I knew they were down there, but there were also a million other people and children down there.

I couldn't get out of the car. It was like a paralyzing fear of having to "wander aimlessly" with people looking at me, that kept me stuck in the passenger seat of my empty mini van. I pep-talked myself at least 10 times, all ending with me feeling like a small vulnerable fish in a very large tank of sharks.

That's how it feels though. sometimes, even when no one else can see an issue, it's an issue for us. My brain has triggers that signal a self preservation instinct, and all of the sudden I am avoiding crowds, overthinking situations, and playing scenario after scenario over in my head. Anxiety causes us to feel the need to be prepared for any and all possible situations, just in case. something as simple as going to the park could potentially have so many situations, and my brain feels the need to be prepared for ALL OF THEM. Anxiety forces us to plan, and plan, and plan again. We need plans for our plans, and a 4 year plan, and a just in case plan, and a plan C, D, and E.

When its quiet, I often find myself playing situations that have happened over and over in my head, but picturing how the outcome would've been if I had done something slightly different. It feels like you're obsessing over a past situation, but in reality you are just trying to find a sense of control over the situation. I do this when I'm folding laundry, washing dishes, or even vacuuming. My brain just sort of goes on auto-pilot and over analyzes past situations to make sure I didn't do or say something wrong unintentionally. The next thing I know, I am feeling overwhelmed with all of the possibilities and it feels like my world is falling apart and that I am failing at life. It suddenly feels like everything is crashing down on me at once.

What if? What if I get to this birthday party, and none of the other parents talk to me? What if I look like a loner? What if I drop my slice of cake on their carpet by accident and they all stare at me? What if there are thousands of other people there? What if I am dressed completely wrong for this event?! We feel the need to be prepared for ALL of these situations, and it is easy to become overwhelmed and suddenly not want to go... Or you want to, but you just can't... You want to get up, and you CAN'T. Suddenly 30 minutes has passed and you realize that you might not be able to tackle this one...

Me: We will enjoy this birthday party
Anxiety: You sure it wasn't just a pity invite?
Me: I want to go, they want me to go.
Anxiety: You were pity invited. They're hoping you don't show up.
Me: Well.....
Anxiety: A nap sounds better anyhow, trust me.
Me: ....Kay.....

Being a mom with anxiety is particularly hard. I feel like I let my kids down when I don't talk to other parents at their school or at the park. Talking to strangers is scary. I see the parents all clustered up in their groups, and I just stand there by myself waiting on the class to come outside. How do these parents know each other? No one appears to be extending a smile or visual invite to myself, so it must be ME. Something must be wrong with me, right? Do my kids have less friends because I am not hanging out with these people on weekends or during the summer? Does my anxiety make them resent me? I am blessed to have a wonderful husband who does not have anxiety, and he eases my stress in places where I find myself overwhelmed. I want to gather the courage to walk up to a crowd and say hi without being awkward, but once again, I physically can't. I feel frozen in place, heart beating fast, panicking inside.

Honestly, no post out there could really tell you what its like to have anxiety when it is so different to each person. I sometimes forget that there are actually people out there who don't feel like this regularly, what is that even like? Is it freeing? They must be happy and carefree, right? I don't know, I've never gotten the opportunity to not have anxiety. I make the most out of what I can each day with anxiety and I don't feel like I have a terrible life. I also don't ever want pity for it, just compassion sometimes because it really is a jumblefuck of emotions in my head all at once, and we do our best. If you do not have anxiety, talk to the person at the park who appears shy. They very well could be desperate for conversation but frozen with nerves. Lets all try to make this world feel a little more like a community. We all have differences, but we are all still people.

Bold Fruity Instant Pot Tea

Well folks, summer is in 6 weeks and I think we just FINALLY have springtime weather here  in Washington state. I think someone forgot to tell the ground hog when spring started, because it was rainy and cold way longer than normal out here. 

It was a rough winter to say the least. I spent a lot of this last winter feeling inadequate and criticizing myself for being human, and making human mistakes (gaining a little of the weight I lost back.) I'll tell you what, it's exhausting being so hard on yourself, and I spent months doing nothing else but beating myself up for being human. 

Fast forward a little bit, I finally started to see some improvement in myself, and I was feeling happy when life just threw curve ball after curve ball at me. My personality was too sensitive for my job, some of my close friends proved to have never wanted friendship all along, and being a mom was it's usual basket of trials that left me wondering how I was supposed to make lemonade out of these lemons. Thanks life. 

Well, it turns out, I made tea instead, and I didn't need the lemons that life gave me to make the best out of my situation. The sun still came up, I was still alive and healthy, and although it felt like everything that could go wrong was going wrong, I still have a wonderful husband and kids. I decided it was time to pick myself up, and choose to be happier. 

I started doing yoga 4 days ago. Yeah, seriously. So in my 4 days as a newbie to yoga, I've learned to slow down and, well, to calm the fuck down. Pardon my language. I predict a lot of yoga and robust, fruity teas this summer while I enjoy the moments I live in. 

Have ever had Starbucks Passion tea? It's a red tea that is sweet, fruity, summery, and $3 Everytime you want it. That's not such a big price until your husband is like "Wait you got it twice today? Or did they charge us twice?" (I love you dear, don't add up the total for the month.)

I really enjoy tea honestly. I think I get most of my water content from herbal and fruity teas, and they're good for more than just feeling fancy. I'm sure you've heard about the antioxidants, and positive effects of tea. Id be more specific but if we are being honest, I don't know a more detailed description. So tea is good, that's what I know.

I decided to use my instant pot to see if I could get that "sun tea" taste and I believe I just did it! I used 1/4 cup of Private Selection brand Forest Fruit loose leaf tea, and 1/4 cup of Berry and Ancient Flower loose leaf tea (same brand) and added it to 1 gallon of water in my instant pot. I threw in 3 Mango Passion fruit tea bags from the brand Stash, because I was feeling confident. I set my IP to manual high pressure, 10 minutes. I quick released after that and it was like the longest pressure release everrrrrrrr, but the smell was so fruity. I mixed in my swerve sweetner to taste (about 1/4 cup for the whole gallon) and then strained it all into a pitcher.

At this point, pour it over ice, and add some frozen fruit because we are fancy like that. Hellooooo tea. Yes please.