No Mas Moping!!!!

Ok, world:  From now on, when I am tempted to mope, I will blog instead.  It is my February 20, 2013 resolution.  I will share with the blogosphere all I have to be joyful for in hopes that it pulls me out of my funk.  My life is a whirlwind of fabulosity and I have no right to mope.  And yet-- we all do, right?

In six months I will marry the love of my life.  My days are full with planning, being a mother to my precious six year old son, and putting the final touches on the dream house that we moved into a few months ago.  That is to say, I moved in, with my son.  You see, my future husband (from here on known as FH) doesn't live with me; he lives in Salt Lake City, where his 17 year old daughter lives with him full-time.  We chose to not disrupt her high school career by transplanting her when she was almost through.  We see each other approximately a week to ten days a month.  When she graduates and goes off to college this fall, we will finally live together for the first time.  We have been engaged for two years, known each other for much, much longer, and the waiting... oh, the waiting.

So, sometimes I mope.  Sometimes I am lonely for him.  Like tonight.  I pace around this gorgeous piece of art I am blessed enough to call my home... and cry.  I come home from phenomenal trips... and  cry.  I lie in my beautiful bedroom alone... and you get the picture.

But no more!  I have much, much to be grateful for-- and I am!  Don't misunderstand.  I appreciate and thank God, the Universe, and my wonderful prince of a FH every single day for the untold blessings that have somehow been bestowed on me.  It's just the lonely nights... the emotional days, the minor frustrations of life that somehow evaporate when shared with a partner.  It's hard to be away, but I would not trade this for not having him as my future husband, my soul mate, my best friend and everything else a partner should be.   Furthermore, he is doing the right thing as a parent, often being both mother and father to his only child, which I respect implicitly and without question.  How do we keep from feeling sorry for ourselves when there is so much more joy than sorrow?  For me... I will blog.