{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.


Mental illness and being a mom.


I am a mom.
I am mentally ill.

Very recently, an old friend of mine who has a baby 15 days younger than mine publicly stated “I am an addict. I am an alcoholic. I am going to receive treatment. This is the first day of the rest of my life.” It was incredible and inspiring to see such brutal honesty, to see her put so much of her ugliness out there for the world to see. Of course, there was an immediate outpouring of well deserved (and needed) support. She will get through this because she has so much support and so much to live for.

So after an “IncIdent” I sat on that and let it run through my head for a few days, I was pulled to this post more and more. To put myself out there and make myself publicly accountable.

I am mentally ill. I have bipolar disorder. I will receive treatment. This is the first day of the rest of my life.

I have lived with this for all of the life I can remember. When I was younger, I was just told that I was “anxious” and that I would likely “grow out of it” during puberty. That has not been my experience.

I continue to have “fits” to this day. I was terrified that I would suffer post partum depression after Logan’s birth and was so thankful when I had not. I hoped maybe pregnancy had pushed my hormones in line and maybe the worst would be behind me. That seemed to be the case until last week. Last week, before even ten AM, shit just hit the fan. I had planned to describe the ugliness in full detail, but that’s a little too much exposure for me. Just know that it was hideous, but luckily my amazing husband was home and we all came through to the other side. Also know that my son was in no danger. It did make me more aware of myself, and this problem, and that it’s not going to “go away”. That it is more likely to get worse now that it had reared its head once more, and that if it were to get worse, nobody’s safety would be guaranteed.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. We’re going to start off treating things without pharmaceuticals, but I need to start opening myself up to that possibility if necessary. This is step one. This is admitting that I have a problem.

PS: It’s Mental Health Awareness Week.  Seriously.

PPS: I’m working on another custom mobile. I can’t even express how exciting it is to have someone actually buy shit I want to make.