Ohana Means Family.

I have about a million things to do, so this seems like the best time to finally sit down and blog again. The important things are done -- my income taxes, the housework, the med management. The dogs are calm, the dishes are clean, and the windows are open for some much needed serotonin. 

The truth is, it's been a long time since I've had the motivation (and the time, and most importantly the energy), to write. I'm still adjusting to working 40+ hours a week in a very people-y career field after I spent 8 months being told by doctors that it probably wasn't going to be possible for a very long time. 

In 2022 when it was discovered I would need a liver transplant, my whole world came to a very sudden stop. Then in early 2023, when I was still very sick but doctors determined a liver transplant wasn't even going to be a safe option for treatment, my mental health hit rock bottom. I had never experienced fear, and anxiety, and depression to that extreme a degree. I had never had to. 

What I didn't know at the time, but I'm grateful to know now, is that developing a very close and intimate relationship with yourself is the single most challenging but wonderful thing a human can do. 

And for me, helping other people became a critical part of that journey. 

In May of 2024 I took a job as a counselor to youth in foster care, and it has allowed me to learn more about myself and more about the world than I had ever imagined. I was heartbroken to have to quit my job with the county DA's office, where I had worked since my freshman year of college -- but my first week of my new gig felt like the longest and most deserved breath of fresh air in forever. I'm coming up on my first anniversary at the new job, and I can not express in words how wild it has been. 

The kids call me, "Ohana," because it sounds a lot like "Hannah" and I am in love with the fact that they made that my nickname because in Lilo's words from Lilo and Stitch, "Ohana means family. And family means nobody gets left behind." 

One of my kiddos was having a horrible day shortly after I started. She had caught her boyfriend cheating on her, and I had found her crying in her room. She told me that day that she felt that it was her fault the boy had cheated. I told her it wasn't, and that she can't blame herself, and in that moment I flashed back to several of my own heartbreaks. But I remembered what used to always make me feel better, so I drove her to Walmart and we bought some cookie dough ice cream, and we talked for hours. When we came out of the store, the sunset was beautiful. Her tears had dried, and the glow of the sun hit both of our faces as we pulled out our phones to take a picture. Her picture was the sunset, my picture was the moment I just described. I will treasure that forever. 

Another one of my kiddos at work wrote this on the whiteboard in the staff office while I was doing session notes and handling several difficult situations at once. I was overwhelmed, and she knew it, and I didn't even notice she had written this until about midnight that night when I'd put in two hours of overtime without realizing it. Social service work is hard, but damn. It is also the most rewarding thing I've ever done. I love what I do and I'm so grateful to get to do it, even (and sometimes especially) on the hardest days. 

That said, I'm still sick. I've accepted by now that a lot of my days off will still entail blood draws and CT scans and all kinds of doctors office visits. But to be honest, it doesn't bother me too much. I'm out of the hospital, I'm no longer tied to an IV line 24 hours a day, and even when I'm in the negatives of spoons, I'm still lucky. Chronic illness teaches you a lot, and one of those lessons is that recognizing your blessings is necessary. 

Our not-so-little pups, Roe and Quinn, turned two years old a few days ago. TWO. We've raised these girls from their first weeks on the planet, and they've only gotten sweeter. Watching them learn, grow, play, and become who they are has been a lot of things. Frustrating, for sure. Puppies pee on everything and chew everything you own. But they also love unconditionally, and are the best cuddlers, and bark when anyone comes within 100 feet of our front door. They're gentle, and protective, but their best quality is their curiosity. They're so interested in everything, all the time, and I love that about them. Always have and always will.

happy second birthday babies. <3

There's been a ton of change in my fraction of the world, lately. I got a nose ring, finally. I had always put it off, but one day I decided to stop putting it on the back burner and do something for myself. 

I got to go to the Eras Tour with my best friends. 

I went to family game nights and election-watching parties. 

My uncle moved from Colorado to Wichita not by choice but by (to me) a miracle, and I'm so happy to have him here in the same city. 

I've gotten two new nephews, Owen and Callan, and they are the most adorable boys. Owen's snack of choice is Saltine crackers, not unlike his aunt Hannah, and Callan is a ball of endless energy. 

My dad and step-mom got married!!!

I have 4 step-siblings now, which is wild. Becoming the middle child when you're 26 is not exactly normal, but nothing in my family is, and I love that about us. 

My best friend and I are working opposite schedules but still attempt to meet for dinners regularly at our favorite spots. When we do, we pick up where we left off. Like adulthood isn't even a thing that's happening, like we're 15 again and carefree. A reminder that life is good, and good friends make it that way. 

I'm getting ready to start graduate school for social work, which is something I would've told you two years ago I NEVER wanted. Life is funny that way, I guess. You really never know what you're in for. 

Before work one day, I stopped at Dollar Tree and bought some cheap canvases and some paint so my kids could make paintings if they wanted to. It was in the heat of July, and for once we weren't going swimming, so I wanted them to have something. 

One of my kids handed me this one at the end of the night. She had made it for me. Signed and everything. "You can put this in your new house," she told me. "And look at it whenever you get sad. You can remember me." 

And I do. 

Whenever I get sad, I look at the painting that a 15-year-old did for me when she didn't have to, and I try my best to remember that the hard days won't win when they're going against me. 

Thank you to the kids I work with, and the grown-ups who hired me, and to everyone who has played any role in my life. You're the reason I'm able to sit here now and write. You're why I've gotten through the hard times and you're the reason I'll get through the ones that are coming. You are my "Ohana." 

I sincerely hope it doesn't take me this long to write and share with you, again. 

But I can't make any promises. 

xox