destinylaharris

Tag: self-care

  • Sunday Things #12

    This week started with me getting completely ready for work—

    and then immediately throwing up my dinner from the night before.

    Cool.

    Fantastic.

    Love that for me.

    😂

    On top of that, my body had apparently decided one problem wasn’t enough, so I was dealing with something else incredibly uncomfortable too.

    I took the day off.

    Took a long soak.

    And planted myself in the recliner with Scream Queens for basically the entire day.

    Honestly?

    There are worse ways to spend a sick day.

    There are also significantly better ways.

    But we survived.

    😂

    Sissy called and asked me to come over because she missed me, which broke my heart a little, but considering I had spent the morning puking, I decided maybe bringing whatever the hell was happening with me around a house full of children was a bad idea.

    Look at me.

    Making responsible adult decisions.

    Gross.

    One of my kiddos from work also called me that day because it was his last day with us.

    He’s moving on to a different school, which is so exciting for him, but apparently he asked for me as soon as he got there that morning.

    😭

    I had already been upset that I wasn’t going to get to tell him goodbye or wish him luck.

    Then he called me.

    And told me he was going to miss me.

    Y’all.

    My whole fucking heart.

    I better get updates.

    That’s all I’m saying.

    Later, I picked my oldest niece up from school.

    She started telling me about a book she wanted from the book fair.

    Her grades are up.

    Her work is turned in.

    She’s doing really well.

    So after figuring out what she still needed for it, I stopped at the ATM and made sure she had enough.

    It’s a book.

    She’s doing well in school.

    Of course I’m going to help her buy the damn book.

    😂

    And speaking of spending money—

    apparently I’m going to see Scene Queen next weekend.

    My friend’s daughter called me and asked if I would take her.

    Her dad overheard the conversation and basically went:

    I’ll buy the tickets.

    Well.

    Okay then.

    😂

    This will be our second outing together in about a month, though, which means now I need to plan two things with her brother.

    I don’t make the rules.

    Actually, I do.

    And apparently the rule is:

    EVERYBODY GETS ACTIVITIES.

    🕷️ Nature and I Are No Longer Speaking

    Tuesday.

    Oh, Tuesday.

    I got off work and Doodoo called me.

    “BlahBlah, up!”

    Say less, baby.

    I’m coming.

    Naturally, Pooh Boy also decided he was coming home with me.

    Then Sissy very politely asked:

    “NeeNee, can I come to your house for just a little bit?”

    Of course.

    “Can I come home after?”

    Absolutely.

    😂

    So now I have three children.

    We spent about two and a half hours outside.

    Everything was fine.

    Until I walked toward the back steps to grab bug spray and saw something move.

    I looked down.

    Jumped backward.

    And immediately thought:

    What the FUCK kind of spider-looking shit is THAT!?

    Absolutely.

    Fucking.

    Not.

    😭

    I called my sister.

    Turns out this giant nightmare creature was an orb-weaving garden spider.

    A female.

    And apparently the reason I had never seen one this terrifying before is because I had only noticed the smaller ones.

    Cool.

    New fear unlocked.

    Except my sister wanted her.

    At her house.

    And asked me to catch her.

    …

    I need everyone to understand something.

    I have arachnophobia.

    Not “ew, spiders are gross.”

    Not “haha, get it away from me.”

    My heart was racing.

    My palms were sweating.

    I couldn’t breathe properly.

    By the time it was over, my entire body was shaking so badly that I had to squat down and remind myself how the fuck to breathe.

    This is not a game for me.

    😂😭

    And yet—

    I caught that big-ass spider.

    Why?

    Because my sister wanted it.

    If anybody ever questions how much I love that woman again, I would like this entered into evidence.

    Because if ANYBODY ELSE asked me to catch a spider that damn big for them, I would’ve told them they had lost their fucking mind.

    Afterward, while trying to recover from my near-death experience, I told my sister:

    “I’m glad you didn’t record that.”

    …

    She recorded it.

    SHE RECORDED THE WHOLE FUCKING THING.

    😭😂

    Apparently she was laughing so hard while watching me fight for my life that she gave herself a migraine.

    Glad one of us had fun.

    We delivered the spider to her new home.

    My sister put her on the mailbox.

    The spider was pissed.

    A praying mantis was offered as tribute.

    The spider declined.

    The praying mantis took one look at her and basically said:

    Actually, I have somewhere else to be.

    Same, little buddy.

    Same.

    By the time I got home, I could still feel imaginary spiders crawling all over my body.

    I sat in the recliner repeating:

    I don’t have spiders on me.

    Ate dinner.

    I don’t have spiders on me.

    Boyfriend said it was time for bed.

    Absolutely not.

    I am not taking these imaginary spiders into my sheets.

    I took a shower.

    The spiders finally went away.

    😮‍💨

    Nature and I were officially done.

    Or so I thought.

    🍀 Apparently Nature Felt Bad

    Wednesday morning, I was walking back from breakfast when something on the ground caught my eye.

    I stopped.

    Looked down.

    And—

    A FOUR-LEAF CLOVER.

    Y’ALL.

    I have never found one before.

    I am in my 30s.

    I have looked.

    Nothing.

    I actually already own a five-leaf clover that a friend found in my front yard and gave me, but I had never found a four-leaf one myself.

    Until now.

    So Tuesday, nature gave me a giant nightmare spider.

    Wednesday, nature gave me my first four-leaf clover.

    …

    Fine.

    Apology accepted.

    But nature is still on thin fucking ice.

    😂🍀

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    I said no this week.

    Nothing dramatic.

    Nobody was mad at me.

    Nobody’s feelings were hurt.

    My sister asked if we wanted the kids, and I said:

    Absolutely not.

    😂

    I love those babies more than anything.

    If Doodoo calls me and says, “BlahBlah, up!” nine times out of ten, I’m already looking for my shoes.

    But Wednesday?

    I wanted to go home.

    Sit on my couch.

    Have absolutely nobody need anything from me.

    And do nothing.

    So that’s what I did.

    And I’ve been thinking about that more than I probably should.

    Because sometimes I think we accidentally convince ourselves that loving people means always being available to them.

    That if we can show up, we should.

    That saying no means we’re letting somebody down.

    But I don’t think that’s true.

    Sometimes loving the people in my life looks like dropping everything when they need me.

    Sometimes it looks like three kids taking over my house for an entire weekend.

    And sometimes it looks like:

    Not today. I’ll see you tomorrow.

    😂

    I don’t love them any less on the days I choose myself.

    And considering I spent basically the entire weekend being climbed on, cried at, cuddled, pooped near, asked for snacks, and informed that somebody had, in fact, shit—

    I think taking Wednesday off was an excellent fucking decision.

    😂

    😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”

    Honestly?

    There were options.

    At work, we started working on a new routine with one of my kiddos.

    It has been an adjustment.

    For both of us.

    😂

    There were some rough moments.

    There were also some really good ones.

    He sat longer than I expected him to.

    We worked on communication.

    He used his device more.

    And at one point, he managed to communicate basically:

    Destiny. Frustrated. Bathroom.

    …

    Sir.

    Correct.

    You read the room beautifully.

    😂

    Progress is progress.

    I’ll take it.

    Then I got my flu shot after work Thursday.

    I walked up to a group of nurses, held out my paperwork and said:

    “Who wants to poke me?”

    I have never seen that many nurses look at me that quickly in my life.

    😂

    A couple smiled.

    Two raised their hands.

    One went:

    “Get over here!”

    DAMN.

    Okay.

    Apparently everybody wants a turn.

    I got my shot and received my annual $5 Starbucks gift card.

    Which means I now have four of those things sitting in my wallet because I don’t drink coffee and apparently refuse to give them away.

    I posted them on Facebook.

    Several people immediately volunteered to take them off my hands.

    Excuse me?

    I got poked for those.

    They’re mine.

    I don’t know what I’m eventually going to do with $20 worth of Starbucks gift cards.

    But that’s not the point.

    😂

    Thursday evening also gave me the perfect start to October.

    I thought I was going to have the house to myself for a while.

    Boyfriend was supposed to work late.

    Kids were elsewhere.

    I was going to shower, get comfortable, and watch whatever the hell I wanted.

    Then he walked through the door.

    …

    Oh.

    There goes my remote.

    😂

    Except he wanted to watch a horror movie I’d been wanting to see too.

    So never mind.

    You may stay.

    We watched Monkey’s Magic Merry Go Round, and y’all—

    I am not spoiling it.

    Just know that it was weird.

    Creepy.

    Completely unhinged.

    And somehow exactly what I wanted from the first horror movie of October.

    Perfect.

    Friday night, I had all three kids again.

    There were Dino nuggets.

    Cookies.

    Baths.

    Tears.

    Children passing out one by one.

    And one very important discovery:

    the milk was BAD.

    Sissy took one sip and immediately went:

    “NeeNee, what is wrong with this milk?”

    Nothing. It’s the same milk Mommy buys.

    “It tastes sour.”

    …

    Excuse me?

    Boyfriend brought me the jug.

    It was swollen.

    It hissed when I opened it.

    There was stuff around the rim.

    It smelled like death.

    Absolutely the fuck not.

    🤢

    I looked at him.

    He looked at me.

    I looked at the milk.

    I looked back at him.

    You gave this to her!?

    Sir.

    Straight to jail.

    😂

    Sissy got juice.

    Then she called her mom.

    At one point, while trying to watch YouTube at the same time, she told my sister:

    “Mommy, I can’t hear my YouTube.”

    My sister apparently asked if she wanted to get off the phone.

    “No, I think you just need to quiet down is all.”

    😭😭😭

    My sister MUTED HERSELF.

    Five minutes later, Sissy decided she was finished with the conversation.

    Absolutely ruthless.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    Saturday was a birthday party.

    And somehow, I think my gratitude this week is just—

    getting to be part of all this.

    The chaos.

    The little voices.

    The ridiculous conversations.

    The fact that Doodoo can be completely inconsolable, and I can ask:

    “Do you hear that?”

    “Yeah.”

    “What is it?”

    “I don’t know.”

    “Do you see that?”

    “Yeah.”

    “What is it?”

    “I don’t know.”

    And by the time we’re finished, he’s calm enough to tell me where he got hurt.

    The fact that Sissy and I apparently become professional athletes the second a piñata breaks.

    Because when that candy hit the ground?

    Y’ALL.

    We went IN.

    😂

    I was on my hands and knees.

    Another adult was on the ground with us.

    Arms and legs were being used to drag candy into our territory.

    There was no dignity.

    There was only victory.

    Sissy walked away with one bag practically bursting at the seams and another more than halfway full.

    We won piñata.

    I don’t care if that’s not technically a thing.

    We won.

    😂

    And then there are the tiny moments.

    The boys crying because Uncle came home and they both wanted him.

    Doodoo choosing Finding Nemo over CaseOh at dinner.

    Pooh Boy waking up Sunday morning yelling:

    “Guncle!”

    Doodoo climbing over me and lightly smacking Uncle in the face:

    “Uncle! Wake wake!”

    😂

    And this morning, after breakfast, Doodoo crawled into my lap.

    I smelled something suspicious.

    Did you poop?

    “No. I farted.”

    Okay, well, your ass stinks, boy.

    A few minutes later:

    “BlahBlah?”

    Yeah?

    “I shit!”

    …

    You shit!?

    “Yup.”

    Great.

    Beautiful.

    This is the life I am grateful for.

    😂

    And now it’s Sunday night.

    I took Doodoo home.

    Cleaned the living room.

    Finished laundry.

    Finally went through a giant pile of clothes I have been ignoring for longer than I’m willing to admit.

    I am not discussing the rest of the laundry situation because my boyfriend managed to piss my entire soul off over it today.

    His clothes eventually ended up in a pile beside him.

    Handle your business, sir.

    😂

    Dinner is still frozen.

    This post is late.

    Again.

    And I think I may officially have to admit that Sunday Things and its current posting time are no longer compatible with my actual Sundays.

    We’ll figure that out later.

    I’m also coughing enough that I decided not to visit my friend and her new baby today.

    😭

    I am dying to meet him.

    But tiny brand-new humans do not need whatever bullshit my immune system may or may not be trying to pull right now.

    So I’ll wait.

    Impatiently.

    This week started with me sick in a recliner.

    Somewhere in the middle, I caught a spider despite every cell in my body screaming ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT, found my first four-leaf clover, watched a creepy movie, survived another week of tiny-human chaos, won a piñata war, and was informed very matter-of-factly:

    “I shit.”

    And now I’m sitting here tired.

    Possibly getting sick.

    Behind on dinner.

    Behind on this post.

    And surrounded by evidence that people live here.

    Honestly?

    I keep saying it lately, but I still mean it:

    I love my little life.

    It’s loud.

    It’s weird.

    Sometimes it has giant spiders.

    Sometimes it gives me four-leaf clovers the next morning as an apology.

    And apparently sometimes the milk hisses.

    But it’s mine.

    And that’s a pretty damn good life.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. What’s one thing from your week that made you think, “Well…that definitely wasn’t on my bingo card”? 😂

  • Sunday Things #5

    Apparently, the second I started feeling better, I forgot I had surgery.

    Not completely.

    Just enough to become a problem. 😂

    Last week, I was talking about how strange it felt to finally start feeling like myself again.

    This week?

    I apparently took that as a challenge.

    I went out to dinner.

    I picked up kids.

    I had sleepovers.

    I baked cupcakes.

    I got my nails done.

    I went swimming.

    I went to a birthday party.

    I stayed up half the night with a sick kid.

    And somewhere in there, I apparently decided recovery was over because I could finally move around without immediately regretting my existence.

    It is not.

    For the record.

    I’m definitely feeling better, but if I do too much, I still feel it in my hips and lower back.

    Apparently feeling better and actually being completely recovered are two different things.

    Okay, everybody calm the fuck down.

    I said BETTER, not BRAND NEW. 😂

    ☕ This Week’s Comfort

    Honestly?

    People.

    Which feels weird to say after spending the last few weeks wanting nothing more than my bed, my recliner, and everybody to leave me alone. 😂

    Monday night, my best friend picked me up and took me to BDUBS.

    Afterward, we sat in her car for about an hour listening to music and talking.

    Then somehow we spent another two hours sitting on the porch saying random words just to see how thick our accents were.

    I don’t know.

    Apparently this is what friendship looks like in your thirties. 😂

    There were also lunches out.

    King of the Hill in the recliner.

    A very necessary nail appointment.

    And beef and noodles.

    Oh, the beef and noodles.

    I had been craving something and couldn’t figure out what it was.

    Then I got out of the shower Friday and it hit me:

    BEEF AND NOODLES.

    I got on DoorDash and ordered everything before I even dried off.

    There are moments in life when you have to have priorities.

    That was one of them.

    📸 Through My Lens

    There were a lot of little moments worth keeping this week.

    Monday, I picked my niece up from school and helped her wrap her girlfriend’s birthday gifts for Thursday.

    Then Tuesday, my younger niece turned four.

    Four.

    I genuinely don’t understand how that happened.

    She was born three months early and was once small enough to fit in the palm of my hand.

    Now she’s more than half my height. 🥲

    I made her birthday outfit, and I gave her a little toy piano for her birthday.

    She—and both of the boys—absolutely love it.

    Unfortunately, the piano later betrayed her.

    She managed to get her finger stuck between the keys and started going:

    “Ow. Ow. Ow. NeeNee!”

    I got her finger out and asked why she put it in there in the first place.

    She said:

    “I don’t know!”

    Then she looked at me.

    Looked at the piano.

    Looked back at me.

    And said:

    “That mother fucker.”

    😭😂

    I couldn’t help it.

    I laughed.

    Her birthday party was Saturday. My sister made the cutest cake, she loved all of her presents, and we went swimming.

    It was fun.

    And overstimulating.

    But mostly, I kept looking at this little girl who used to fit in the palm of my hand and wondering how the hell four years went by that fast.

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    Wednesday was my follow-up appointment.

    And I finally heard the words I have been waiting to hear:

    I CAN PICK THE KIDDOS UP AGAIN.

    😭

    Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for that?!

    Naturally, my niece called afterward to ask how my appointment went—and, more importantly, whether I was allowed to pick her and the boys up yet.

    Priorities. 😂

    So I picked them up early from the sitter.

    Because obviously.

    But the appointment also gave me the next part of this whole weird journey.

    For the next three to six months, I’ll be getting a monthly injection that will put me into a medically induced menopause.

    At 33.

    Because apparently I am an overachiever.

    The goal is to help treat what remains of my endometriosis and shrink my fibroid. And at the end of all of this, my doctor believes I’ll have a better chance of getting pregnant.

    Which is strange to think about.

    I’m about to temporarily shut down the very system I’m hoping will eventually help me have a baby.

    There’s something almost absurd about that.

    But hopeful, too.

    This whole process has been one weird contradiction after another.

    Surgery so I can heal.

    Menopause because I want a baby.

    Feeling better while still recovering.

    Being excited and absolutely terrified at the same time.

    Apparently, two things can be true at once.

    I’m learning that a lot lately.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    This one belongs to the little moments.

    My niece staying the night when she almost never wants to.

    Making clay keychains together.

    Baking chocolate cupcakes and decorating them with pink and purple icing, pink glitter, and unicorn toppers.

    Her doing my makeup.

    Watching KPop Demon Hunters.

    Random dancing.

    Doing a Facebook Live for absolutely no reason.

    And eventually having her curled up asleep in my lap.

    There was also a conversation with my boyfriend this week about babies.

    And proposals.

    Apparently his current proposal plan involves taking me somewhere near a cliff so that if I say no, I can “accidentally” fall off.

    So.

    That’s comforting.

    😂

    I can’t stand him sometimes.

    But underneath the jokes, there are conversations happening now that once felt really far away.

    Marriage.

    A baby.

    Our future.

    And after everything my body has been through lately, there is something really nice about talking about what might come next instead of only thinking about what hurts right now.

    😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”

    Oh, Sunday.

    Sweet, innocent Sunday.

    On Saturday, I wrote this:

    Please, I’m begging you, please let me just relax today, and do nothing. At all. I’m begging you.

    —Destiny
    Written on Saturday.

    Apparently Sunday took that personally.

    It technically started at 12:23 a.m.

    I hadn’t even been to sleep yet because every time I started dozing off, my nephew would toss, turn, whine, or cough.

    Then he puked.

    On me.

    And the bed.

    So there I was, shortly after midnight, cleaning vomit and trying to get a sick kid settled back down.

    Eventually, he fell asleep lying on my stomach.

    Poor DooDoos. 😩

    He was up and down for most of the night, so sleep was basically a rumor.

    By morning, I was on the couch watching CaRtOoNz with one nephew coughing, snotting, and crying while the other was growling like a demon baby.

    If you’ve ever seen Baby Jack-Jack from The Incredibles?

    That.

    It wasn’t even 10 a.m.

    Eventually, Demon Baby left for a visit with his mom and dad, and I developed a craving.

    Texas Roadhouse.

    And when I say craving, I mean mission.

    So yes.

    I took the sick nephew with us.

    Judge me. 🤷🏻‍♀️

    We came home.

    I took a nap.

    My nephew eventually got picked up.

    And I planted myself in the recliner, turned on King of the Hill, and have barely moved since.

    I’m on the final season now.

    And remember that laundry I was supposed to do today?

    Yeah.

    I didn’t do laundry. 😂

    You know what?

    It’ll still be dirty tomorrow.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. What’s something you absolutely should have done this weekend…but decided could become Monday’s problem instead?

  • 🧠 Brain Static #3

    Random thought I had in the shower…

    Conditioner.

    How many people only put it on their roots?

    How many people only put it on the ends?

    How many people put it in and rinse it right back out?

    And…

    How many people actually leave it in for the recommended 2–3 minutes?

    I have so many questions.

    That’s it.

    That’s the whole thought.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. Be honest… what’s your conditioner routine?

  • Sunday Things #3

    There’s something about Sundays that makes me look back at the week a little differently.

    The little moments start connecting.

    The uncomfortable ones.

    The funny ones.

    The ones that seemed insignificant at the time but somehow became the story.

    This week wasn’t productive.

    It wasn’t exciting.

    It was slow.

    And maybe that’s exactly what I needed.

    For the first time in a long time, I didn’t have the option to keep moving.

    My body made that decision for me.

    ☕ This Week’s Comfort

    A heating pad.

    King of the Hill playing in the background.

    Naps that happened whenever they happened.

    And finally being able to shower after surgery.

    Sometimes comfort isn’t exciting.

    Sometimes it’s simply finding one position that doesn’t hurt.

    📷 Through My Lens

    I didn’t pick up my camera this week.

    Instead, I spent a lot of time noticing things from the recliner.

    How quickly the days blurred together.

    How different every hour of recovery felt.

    And how healing can somehow feel painfully slow and surprisingly fast at the same time.

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    This week reminded me that healing isn’t passive.

    It feels like you’re doing nothing…

    but your body is doing everything.

    I’ve spent so much of my life feeling guilty whenever I slowed down.

    This week, I didn’t have a choice.

    And maybe that’s okay.

    Maybe resting is still moving forward.

    Just in a different direction.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    I’m grateful the surgery went well.

    I’m grateful they finally found answers.

    I’m grateful for heating pads.

    For nurses who don’t wait for you to ask if you’re hurting.

    For pain medicine that worked faster than I thought was possible.

    For everyone who checked in on me.

    And especially for my boyfriend, who has spent the week making sure I haven’t had to worry about much of anything except getting better.

    😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”

    I have become painfully aware of just how many things require your abdominal muscles.

    Shifting positions?

    Sore.

    Walking?

    Sore.

    Coughing?

    Absolutely not.

    Yawning?

    Apparently that’s an abdominal activity now, too.

    Even getting comfortable requires getting uncomfortable first.

    I knew I was going to be sore after surgery.

    I just didn’t realize my stomach was involved in approximately 97% of existing.

    And then, of course, there’s pooping after surgery.

    That’s an entire adventure of its own.

    I’ll leave it at that.

    🌱 This Week’s Small Joy

    My peanut butter pie finally arrived. 😅

    I knew it was coming.

    I’ve been waiting for it.

    And after spending several days snacking more than actually eating, I was VERY happy to finally see that pie.

    There were other little things, too.

    Video calls with my sister that kept me sane.

    My heating pad practically becoming another appendage.

    King of the Hill playing while I drifted in and out of naps.

    And noticing the bloating and gas finally starting to ease up.

    Nothing huge.

    But this wasn’t really a week for huge things.

    This was a week for finding something good in the small ones.

    Until next time.

    -Destiny

    P.S. What’s one small thing that made a hard day feel a little easier this week? I’d love to hear about it. 🖤

  • Sunday Things #1

    There’s something about Sundays that feels different.

    The week slows down just enough to catch its breath, and for a little while, everything feels a little quieter.

    This week wasn’t the easiest.

    A sinus infection and a stomach bug forced me to slow down in ways I didn’t want to. I missed work, spent more time resting than doing, and was reminded that sometimes our bodies make the decisions for us. It wasn’t the week I had planned, but it was the week I needed.

    ☕ This Week’s Comfort

    Hot showers.

    Clean pajamas.

    A warm blanket.

    And Bailey Sarian playing in the background while I let myself finally relax.

    📷 Through My Lens

    This week reminded me that slowing down has its own kind of beauty.

    One of my favorite photographs I shared was a close-up of a sunflower covered in tiny droplets of water. It’s amazing what you notice when life forces you to stop rushing.

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    I’m learning that rest isn’t something you have to earn.

    Sometimes your body whispers.

    Sometimes it shouts.

    Either way, it’s worth listening.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    I’m grateful for feeling a little better than I did a few days ago.

    I’m grateful for people who show kindness without being asked.

    And I’m grateful that this little blog finally exists after spending so long as “one day.”

    Here’s to a new week.

    I hope it’s gentle with all of us.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s one small thing that made you smile this week? I’d love to hear about it.