To say the least, these past two weeks have been challenging and character building. Sickness seems to just kick our kids in the booty. Filled with high fevers, snot, coughs from deep within, pneumonia, vaccination fear, physical/mental/emotion shortage, worries, talks with six different doctors, four doctor visits, viruses, and one remaining cold. During these days stuck inside with one or the other or both kids sick, I have tried to embrace this time at home. No places to get to first thing in the morning- just the basic needs- making sure my babies were okay. You would think that in all of this I would have to lose it in some way or another. But no tears. Now, don’t get me wrong- there were many times I wanted to cry but it just doesn’t come. Hence the reason for the battle on my lips of fever blisters. I hold it in. I don’t mean too. Believe me, I wish I could just let it out. So after two weeks of holding everything in- the fear, the frustrations, the exhaustion, the worry, the craziness…

I cried.

But this is how I cried.

Last night was my fifth night teaching my new boot camp fitness class. I was so beat- emotionally. I walked in the room to find the previous class completely packed out. I thought, “Ok, maybe this is a good sign that people will come tonight.” The previous class ended and cleaned up the room and I set up for my class. Five minutes roll by. No one. Ten minutes. No one. For the first time in two weeks I feel the tears well up. Now this was a funny internal dialogue- “Ok. Seriously. Now? In the middle of the YMCA?” ha. I sucked it up for five minutes more to clean my stuff up and head back out to my car and call it a night. I got in my car. Shut the door. And cried. FINALLY. Not so much from the disappointment from the class but from everything that went on the past couple of weeks. And it felt so good to be genuinely honest with myself. Though there was much hurt for some other various things and stress I felt relief in the release. Humbled by the night but thankful that it tipped me over the edge to pour out my emotions.

One response to “Tipped”

  1. Let it out. Let it out. Let it out. 🙂

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