The Latest:

Sink

We have lived with a 6-inch deep sink for the past 4 1/2 years. As well as a faucet that not only leaks but barely moves when you try to swivel it. It doesn't swivel. I have hated it since we moved in. Mostly because you put three dishes in it and it is already overflowing! So after much convincing, Dave agreed to getting a new sink and faucet! (I told him it was my early birthday present).  

I decided if I was going to get a new sink, it had better be as deep as possible. So I chose a 10-inch deep sink from Lowes and then found the oil-rubbed bronze faucet on Amazon. Dave spent an entire morning and afternoon removing the old sink and installing the new one. He did such a great job and I absolutely LOVE it!

We tested it and found that it takes one week to fill this baby up. Ha ha!

Family Pictures

I asked my brother-in-law, Casey, if he would take our family pictures this year. After he edited them, I asked myself why we had never asked him in previous years! He did such a great job and they turned out beautiful! Even with the kids being uncooperative.

I had planned out everyone's outfits and had bought these adorable teal suspenders for Miles and of course he refused to wear them. Then Dave did Miles' hair really cute and as soon as we got in the car and told everyone to not touch their hair, Miles starts rubbing his hair as furiously as possible. He was in such a bad mood that afternoon, but luckily even with him messing it up, he still looked great. 

We drove up Provo canyon to Vivian Park, drove up South Fork, parked, and then hiked up a little ways to a beautiful area.

Band

The Swoop got to play a couple times at the Riverwoods and luckily the second time it didn't rain. It being a Friday, there were a lot of people there, so it was nice to play to an audience. We had some technical difficulties throughout the set, but it still turned out pretty good. My Uncle Dodd and Aunt Annalynn came and took some pictures, and Dave and the boys showed and supported their ol' mom. 

Ybarras Are Home!

Dave's parents got home from their 2nd mission in Germany on the 30th of September. (I am pretty sure they haven't aged in the past 14 years that I've known them.) They got home so late in the day, however, that only Dave was able to meet them at the airport with a few of his siblings. But we got to see them a couple days later and have enjoyed spending some time at their house with Katie's family, Mary, Joe, and John. 

Fishing & Hee Haw Farms

I had promised the boys we would take them to Hee Haw Farms last Friday, but Dave's sister Katie and her family were in town and Dave wanted to take them out on the boat. So we split up and I took the boys to the farm and he took Katie, her daughter Emily, and her sons Erik and James out on Deer Creek to fish. Katie's husband, Jeremy, took their two younger daughters, Julia and Hannah, to the farm as well since it was likely they would be bored on the boat. So it worked out for everyone.

Cruise and Miles enjoyed watching two of the goats fight. As interesting as it was, I was a little worried the goats might turn on the kids, but the goats must really be used to kids and people running around, so they pretty much ignored everyone unless there was a possibility they had something to eat.

 I like to call this one "Kid to Kid":

 And, just like last year, the corn pit was a lot of fun.

 They had a lot of fun going down both the big slide as well as the Silo slide. Miles could've slid all day long.

And that's what we've been up to! 

Not Alone

I wrote this on March 24th of this year. I never posted it. Maybe I felt ashamed or embarrassed because only a couple people see me at my worst and even that is too many for me to feel good about. But this is my blog, and I write it for me and my kids. It's always good to go back and read things like this, especially when I am struggling. So I'm gonna just put it right here: 

Some days are great. I will feel normal, my anxiety won't be through the roof, I can deal with meltdowns and angry children with patience and understanding. But then there are days where I can't get out of bed, where I don't shower or even get out of my pajamas. Days I will hide inside my house, randomly burst into tears, and if left alone for too long, begin to contemplate how I can hurt or kill myself. I am in a constant state of self observation. I get exhausted taking care of myself, and the days I am terribly depressed, I don't even try. I hate how much work it is to feel relatively normal. I get angry. I miss the days before all this began, where it wasn't a daily struggle to not just survive, but to enjoy life.

And then when my thoughts turn to how much work it is and what the point of me trying is, I am so grateful that all I have to do is look around me and see my children and my husband. Constant reminders of why I must continue to work at this every day. Why I must not give up. And honestly, I would not be able to do it on my own. I am witness to tender mercies every single day. Some days I may not recognize them, but as I sit here writing this, I realize that each day I am given the gift of life, of love, of patience, of understanding and support. Between my Heavenly Father, my Savior, and my sweet husband, I am given so much more than I feel deserving of.

Dave has come to learn that he needs to make sure I get out of bed in the morning, ask if I have taken my meds before bed, give me time to practice my drums, and to ask me how I am doing before he leaves for work. At times I feel like a burden and that I require too much attention, and the truth is I don't want any of it, but it is what I need. And for Dave's sacrifice and extra attention, I am truly grateful. He is the most patient person I know. And although he doesn't always understand, he serves me with a perfect love and helps lift a burden that is hard for him to imagine. I couldn't do it without him.

In the times I find myself in a fog, alone with my depression and the horrible agony that accompanies bipolar, the only one I can turn to is my Heavenly Father. The person who knows what I am experiencing in that moment. The person I know who will not judge me for the destructive thoughts racing through my head. The only one who knows what it's like to be me. And there are always days I fall on my knees, begging Him to take this away. But I am always given the same answer every time: this is yours to bear, but I am here to help you carry it. And as much as I hate knowing that I have to endure and carry my burdens, I am equally grateful and humbled to know that my Heavenly Father and my Savior, Jesus Christ, will bear my burdens with me. Little old me.

He is aware of me, even when I feel that He shouldn't be. He is there when I cry to him to help me sleep, to make my emotional and mental agony leave me for just a moment, to send me comfort when I find myself falling to my knees in despair and hopelessness. He is there. I know He is. I know because in my darkest hours, He sends me the Holy Ghost to not just comfort me, but to carry me through the fog to safety. It is humbling to know that of the millions and millions of people on this earth, my Heavenly Father is aware of me, knows what I need and is there to remind me of His perfect, unconditional love. To remind me that I am not alone.