Sunday, December 19, 2010

More Riley-isms..

We watched Disney's The Princess and the Frog tonite with the kids.

During the scene where the firefly dies Riley, in all of his nine year old wisdom, says, "Oh how dramatic... it starts to rain just as he dies.", with a rolling his eyes kind of voice. This kid is a pip!

Then towards the end when Tiana and the Prince are finally turned back into humans he pipes up, "Now WHY didn't they think of getting married from the very beginning???" LOL!! I explained that they hadn't fallen in love yet. He just gave me his "Oh puhlease..", look.

God I love this kid!

Friday, December 17, 2010

Ugh...

In just under twelve hours I'll be sitting next to my attorney at the first of what I expect will be a long line of hearings. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a nervous wreck. My stomach is in knots and I feel like there's a boulder resting on my chest.

It still feels so surreal. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think I'd be facing divorce and life as a single mother. I look at him sometimes and I wonder, "When did it all start to go wrong? How did I get here???"

I've accepted it's over. I accepted that months ago. I'm ready for the next chapter in my life. I'm terrified. But I'm ready. Though I wish I could simply fast forward through the next few months and have this all be behind me. I feel like I've been in this state of agonizing limbo for far too long.

I smile and get through each day. But inside I'm a mess. My heart hurts. If I could I'd curl up in the fetal position and just sleep. Sleep has become my only escape. I can't concentrate on books, TV shows or movies long enough to comprehend them. I can read the same page of a book ten times and still have absolutely no idea what it said. I put a movie or a favorite show on but after a few minutes I'm no longer paying attention because I'm so lost in thought. I think I've seen the first ten minutes of this week's episode of NCIS:LA fifteen times and have yet to get to the end. Yesterday I folded the same shirt four times before I realized what I was doing.

I wonder where I'll be a year from now. Five years from now. Ten years from now. I worry about my kids and how they'll handle all of this. I worry about how I'll do it all alone. I know I can. I know with my love and support my children will be ok. I know that I am strong and capable. However, that doesn't stop me from being afraid of the unknown.

I need a favor of all of you. At 1:30 PM (EST) today say a little prayer for me. Please.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Oh yay...

Isn't going to the doctor supposed to lead to feeling better??? Yeah... no. Not when said doctor prescribes Albuterol four times daily via a nebulizer. Oh... my... GOD!! This crap makes me feel WORSE.

So now in addition to my entire body aching, fevers, chills, my head and ears so clogged I can't hear a darn thing and a harsh cough, I have the shakes, nausea, a racing heart and this permeating sense of anxiety that makes me want to climb the walls. Difficulty sleeping is yet another side effect. Faaaabulous. (insert eye roll) I already have enough trouble sleeping.

Oh and just for giggles? The antibiotic she prescribed, Zithromax? Tears up my stomach causing sharp cramping on top of the nausea. Thank GOD I only have to take that once a day.

Have I mentioned I hate being sick????? Blah!

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Ya' know what else bugs me???

I want to start by saying that 99.9% of all of you have been PHENOMENAL with your kind words of support. And I am IMMENSELY grateful for them. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I would not have gotten through this past year without all of you.

With that said...

There are some people who I REALLY thought were going to be there for me, to support me, to let me lean on them blah, blah, blah. People who adamantly insisted they "had my back". People who were so passionate in telling me this that I was sure they'd be one of those special people who would be there at 3 AM when I was sobbing uncontrollably and simply needed to know someone was out there. But nope.. no where to be found.

Look.. I know everyone has problems and mine are no more dire than anyone elses. I know we all have lives and responsibilities. But honestly.. in this age of modern doodads and gadgets, how freakin' hard is it to spend thirty seconds, maybe a minute, responding to a text or sending someone a quick e-mail to say, "Hey.. I'm thinking of you." or "How are you holding up??" Or hell! Even finding a few minutes to make a quick phone call. Ya'll remember those right?? Ya' dialed a number and actually SPOKE to someone. So they could hear your voice and you could hear theirs. Novel idea huh?

My closest and dearest friends, and even some of my on line pals, know that I can be found at any hour of the day. If you need me I'll spend hours chatting with you on line or on the phone. If it's physically possible I will drop everything I'm doing and be at your side as fast as my Mom mobile can get me there.

Now before anyone accuses me of being whiny and unreasonable I certainly do NOT expect anyone to come to my rescue every single time I come crying to them. I understand that sometimes it just isn't possible to do that. I myself have had to tell a loved one, "Listen, I'm the middle of something I can't stop right now but as soon as I can I will call/text/e-mail you." And then I DO JUST THAT. Because I gave them my word. And that means something to me.

I'm also not implying that these people are insensitive. I think some of them simply have their priorities skewed. They just don't think about the impact their actions (or in this case inactions) have on someone. Again, I'm not proclaiming to be the perfect friend who is there every, single, solitary time one of my friends calls on me. I've allowed myself to get so caught up in my own problems and pain that I sometimes forget others have their own battles to fight. Sometimes I realize I'm doing it without anyone pointing it out to me. Other times I need a little nudge in the right direction.

The older I get the more I realize that life really IS too short. And we never know what each new day will bring. In October of 2005 my Grandmother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It had spread to her lungs and her liver. It was, in essence, a death sentence. She was eighty-two years old, with eighty-three close on the horizon. The doctor's told us she probably had only around six months, give or take a month.

We got three. And I thank God those three months happened to be during the holidays. Christmas 2005 will always be one of my favorite Christmas's. Though bitter sweet, we had Me Mom with us one last time.

On January 19th, 2006 she passed away. I was thirty-three years old and I'd always known losing her was an inevitability that I could not escape. Even so, losing her as quickly we did was a shock. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her and miss her. She was my biggest fan and loudest cheerleader. I always knew she loved me completely and unconditionally. My children adored her. Particularly my oldest son Cody. As a toddler we lived with my Grandmother and my parents for several months. So Cody and "Me Mom" spend a lot of time together. They watched baseball and Disney movies together. They had lunch together every single day. They were best buds.

Her loss was hard on all of us. But especially Cody and I. I would give anything for even just one more hour with her. I was there the day she left this world. By her side, her hand in mine. She'd been in a coma for two or three days by then. And hadn't opened her eyes once. But that morning she did and I saw her look off into the corner of the room, seeing something none of the rest of us could. And she smiled. I knew at that moment that someone had come to take her home. Her Mother and Father, maybe her sisters and brothers, her husband.. whomever. There was someone there in that room with us. I felt it in the almost palpable silence of the moment. No one will ever be able to convince me differently.

She closed her eyes then, took one final breath and was gone. As gut wrenching as it was to say good-bye to her I would not trade that moment for anything. I found it as comforting as I did sad.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Who THE HELL does this man think he is????????

HE wanted a divorce. HE has gone out of his way to be the biggest d**k I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. HE has taken EVERYTHING he possibly could away from me. HE has threatened me, insulted me and made me feel like I am somehow less of a person. He then had the AUDACITY to get angry because I took the bull by the horns and got an attorney. I’m sorry (scratching head)… isn’t that what one generally does in the event of a divorce???? Seems like a completely logical and SMART move to me.

I don’t know the first thing about divorce laws in this state. I never thought I’d have any use for this knowledge so I didn’t seek it out. HE was threatening me again and again and again with taking my kids, kicking me out, telling me it would be in the best interest of the kids if *I* left and gave him the kids and the house. And he wouldn’t even ask me for child support. (said in a tone that clearly stated I should jump at such an offer) EXCUSE ME???? F**k you buddy. I’m NOT going anywhere.

The only way he is getting custody of my kids it to pry them from my cold, dead arms. HE can take his sorry, pathetic ass and LEAVE. In my NOT so humble opinion the only person who should make ANY sacrifices is HIM. He wanted out, so he can GET OUT.

He tries to play the wronged man. But he’s a lousy actor so it comes off as childish, sulkish and just plain idiotic. I FREELY admit that my own mistakes contributed to the failure of my marriage. However HE takes no blame. I think that is what pisses me off the most. His INANE notion that he has done no wrong and has just been the perfect husband and father all of these years…. Hmmmm…..

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!

Not even close!!!!! I could write a novel outlining his mistakes, faults and neurotic issues. From his compete inability to empathize with anyone to the emotional cripple that he is. At one time I believed that despite his inability to show empathy and emotion he DID feel these things. I was WRONG. He is incapable of feeling them. Ice runs through his veins.

I could sit here and tell you how he rarely put any effort or thought into holiday, birthday and anniversary gifts. I’m not talking about how much he spent. I’m talking about his complete inability after nearly TWENTY years to come up with a gift for me that I’d actually like. The only way I’d get something I really wanted would be to make him a detailed list, often with pictures for a visual aid. I’d even FIND said items for him (at the least expensive price) and tell him where to find them. This would annoy him so some years I’d refrain. Sure enough that would be the year that I’d get something I didn’t want or need. But I’d smile. Nod. Say thank you. All the while thinking to myself.. “Really??? After ALL these years you STILL don’t know what I like????”

But I always believed down to my very core that he loved me and he was just.. well… a guy. But there were other things. Things that should have given me a clue about who he really is. He never defended me. I have been insulted by his family, his friends, mutual friends… RIGHT in front of him and he did nothing. Often he’d agree and/or laugh with these people. At MY expense!!! Me? I’d get my panties in a bunch if anyone DARED to insult him. I could say whatever the hell I wanted too about him. But no one else could. And I had no problem rippin’ someone a new one if they said the wrong thing about my husband.

He’ll tell you he doesn’t like confrontation. I say he’s just a coward. Afraid to go up against someone for fear of pissing them off. But pissing me off; his wife, the mother of his six children, the woman who gave up everything to raise her family while HE climbed the corporate ladder; pissing me off and hurting me are perfectly acceptable. What a d**k!!!!

WHY did I stay??? WHY didn’t I walk away years ago?? Simple. Because I loved him. And I promised to love him through everything, the good and the bad. And I did so in the presence of God and our families. I took that seriously. I made my fair share of mistakes. I admit that. But so did he. He obviously did NOT take it seriously.

So I’m sick to death of his holier than thou, my shit doesn’t stink attitude. F**k you asshole. You can word it any way you want. The bottom line still is that YOU are walking out on this family. YES. THIS FAMILY. Not just me. But your kids as well. YOU are changing the dynamics of their entire world. YOU are 150% responsible for that. *I* would have stayed in counseling for YEARS if that’s what it had taken to fix our marriage. YOU gave up after three lousy sessions. YOU decided that YOU were more important than this FAMILY.

So take your lousy attitude and stick it where the sun don’t shine. You have NO right to be bitter. NONE.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Stepping out of my comfort zone...

I just sent an application, along with a cover letter, to yet another retail establishment. I didn't ask anyone to proof read or critique my cover letter. I didn't try to talk myself out of sending it. I'm notorious for second guessing myself and continually seeking validation from others. It drives me, and everyone who knows me, to the point of madness.

So tonite I ignored the ever present fear that I was somehow saying something stupid or making a colossal mistake and just went with my own gut on it. Of course, now that it's done I'm wigging a little. Wondering if I should have at least had Deb take a look at things before I sent it. And no, I didn't save a copy (though I did get an e-mail confirmation that the app was received). I was so focused on just sending it that I didn't stop to copy and paste it.

But what's done is done. It's not like I'm applying to be a rocket scientist or neonatal nurse. And my spelling and grammar were impeccable so I have that much. :)

Friday, November 19, 2010

Facing the storm...

“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure, I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.” ~Marilyn Monroe

THIS is one of my all time favorite quotes. It’s me in a nutshell.

I freely admit I am not without fault. I own up to my faults and I really do try, on a daily basis, to control and overcome those faults. I’m not always successful. I know that the dissolution of my marriage is as much my fault as it is his. He doesn’t admit this but that really doesn’t matter in the end. I can’t control what he does and thinks. No more than he can control my thoughts and actions.

Oddly, the events of the last few days, and today most of all, have left me with a calm I haven’t had in a very long time. Don’t get me wrong. I know the next several months, or more, will be rough in ways I can’t even fathom right now. But I feel up to the challenge and ready to face them.

I’ve found some inner peace I didn’t think I had. The old me would be a puddle right now. Terrified of the future. I’d be in my room crying and railing against God. The new me is busy brainstorming and planning her future. There’s a confidence in me that I’d buried for so long I wasn’t sure I could bring it back. But I have. And it will continue to grow each day. And each night I pray to God. For personal strength and peace, and my loved ones.

I’m not an idiot. I’m not perfect but I am not some weak chick who can’t do anything without a man. This is the way he sees me. He being the stbx (soon to be ex). That’s his opinion and he’s entitled too it. I’M entitled to make him eat his words. :)

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Christmas

For as long as I can remember Christmas has been my all time favorite time of year. As a child I would lay awake for hours on Christmas Eve hoping to hear the distinctive sound of sleigh bells and reindeer hooves on the roof. I’d finally succumb to sleep only to wake long before dawn rarin’ to race down the steps and see what Santa had brought.

But even as a child it was about more than the presents. It was the sights, the sounds, the smells. It was time with family and big holiday gatherings. I loved every second of it. Including the chaos of Christmas shopping.

As a parent I have always gone out of my way to make Christmas as magic as possible for my children. At the first hint of a chill in the air my mind is racing with decorating, baking, gift buying and I’m humming Christmas carols. I don’t care what I get for Christmas. The looks on my kids’ faces Christmas morning is the best present I could ever receive.

This year, try as I might, I can’t find that feeling. This year I want to ignore the impending holidays for as long as possible. I have no Christmas spirit. I avoid looking at Christmas displays and decorations in stores. I don’t want to hear Christmas carols or see Christmas advertisements. I don’t even want to think about Christmas in the abstract. When I do, when some commercial I didn’t mute quite fast enough reminds me of it, my eyes well up with tears because I know this is it. Our last Christmas as a “whole” family.

I hate him for that more than anything else. I can forgive him not loving me enough to be married to me. I can even forgive his vile, cruel, heartless behavior. But I cannot, and will not, forgive him for destroying my family as I know it and thereby changing the dynamics of every holiday from here on out.

I don’t want his and her holidays. I WANTED to save my marriage. HE didn’t. I didn’t want a divorce. HE did. HE should suffer. HE should have to make all of the sacrifices. HE should be the one who has to give things up. NOT me.

But I have no choice. In the name of fairness I have to share my kids with him on holidays. In my ever so humble opinion there is nothing fair about it.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Riley-isms

Riley-isms...

I'm working my way through a large pile of boxes in my bedroom. Boxes of old books, magazines, clothes, etc. They've been residing in the unfinished portion of the third floor. A large "closet" if you will. Some of them have been there two or more years. I got a bug up my butt this morning to get a lot of them out of here today. I've made quite a dent in the pile.

The kids are scattered about the house doing their thing. I check on them periodically, particularly if it gets too quiet, to make sure no one is bleeding and nothing is on fire.

Just minutes ago I heard the distinctive wail of Logan. From the tone I could tell he'd been hurt in some physical way. Now I couldn't have told you at that moment if this would manifest itself in nothing more than a bruised ego, or a bloody nose. Because Logan wails with the same intensity no matter which it is. I suspected, as it is more often than not, to be the former.

It was. However, it was still necessary to have a chat with the perpetrator. Riley. He'd hit Logan in the face. So said (sobbed) Logan, though there wasn't a mark on his face. Knowing Riley, it had happened but I never know for sure. Riley arrived in front of me stoic, admitting his guilt and ready to explain to me why he had to do it.

Me: "Riley... what have you been told about putting your hands on someone???"

Riley: "He was askin' for a fight.", said in the most matter of fact tone of voice. As if I should already know this.

Me: "I'm sorry? What??" (as I struggle not to burst into giggles because really, you should have seen this kids' face when he said it.)

Riley: HE was askin' for it. If someone wants a fight I'm not going to deny an act." (swear to God that's what he said)

Me: Riley... even if someone is "asking for it" you do NOT put your hands on them. You find me or Dad or another adult and let US handle it."

Riley: "Mom!", said with firmness but not shouted, "I am not going to deny an act."

Me: (knowing full well this could go on for hours and honestly not sure what the hell he was trying to say) "Riley!! Keep your hands to yourself!! It's that simple!" (but I'm laughing out loud now and he knows he's got me)

Riley: (huge sigh, muttering) "He wanted a fight.", and walked down the steps, sliding his eyes up and grinning his evil grin at me.

I gave him "the look" in return and that sent him scurrying. But he'll hit someone again. And I'll primand him again and... Good Lord. Logan is wailing again already!

Calgon take me away.

Stupid Michelle Trick #789...

Only me.

I had an errand to run. I knew I was dangerously low on gas so the first place I head too is WaWa for a fill up. I hate getting gas. Loathe it. And thus avoid it until I risk running out on a lonely road somewhere. So this afternoon I wasn't TOO surprised when the van sputtered and died literally at the traffic light at Penn Ave at the end of my street. I was, however, MORTIFIED!

I quickly raced back home, got the gas can (full THANK GOD!!!), raced back to the van, emptied the gas can into it, tried to start it. Battery is dead. URG!! My battery needs replacing. That's HIS job. He has obviously failed at it. I'd do it but my "allowance" doesn't cover car repair and maintenance. (sarcasm intended)

Anywho... in the end I needed a police officer to push the van while I steered off to the side of the road. Another officer had to bring a portable car battery charger since I couldn't find my teenage son or any of his friends.

I spent what felt like an hour waiting in my too warm van that smelled of gas fumes from the gas tank on the floor behind me for the second officer to arrive. In reality it was likely ten minutes or less. But within those ten minutes I think I got a contact high from said gas fumes.

It was with great relief that I popped the hood when the second officer brought the charger around to the front of my car. Despite the fact that I'd done nothing wrong, the sheer authoritative role of a police officer left me feeling like I had. Two of them was even worse. Couple that with other drivers slowing to gawk and I couldn't wait to pull away.

They left the battery charge a few minutes and then sent me on my merry way. I drove home taking the first deep breaths I had since walking up to the officer.

I am not getting back into that car until he puts a new battery in it!!!!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

"Tennee" Girl

My dog, Tennessee (Tennee girl, Tennee) has always been attached to me. But lately she is literally at my side at all times while I’m in the house. She follows me from room to room and sometimes from one side of the room to the other as if she’s afraid she’ll suddenly lose sight of me. I don’t know if she senses the stress, sadness and anxiety in me or if she’s just feeling insecure??

It’s sweet. For the most part. Although there is something disconcerting about opening the shower curtain to find her staring at me expectantly. She will whine incessantly if she can’t find a way to get next to me on the couch. Let me rephrase that. She will whine incessantly until she finds a way to be practically on top of me on the couch. She will press the length of her body tightly against me or sprawl half of her body across or around me. Even if she has to crawl behind me to do it.

When I go into the bathroom, she goes into the bathroom. When I walk from the living room to the kitchen, she hops up, sometimes from a dead sleep complete with human like snoring, and follows me.

When I go up to bed at night she comes with me and sleeps either next to me or at my feet. If I move too suddenly she startles and watches me intently to make sure I’m just adjusting my position and am not about to leave her all alone in the bedroom. Which is apparently a horrible thing because she will NOT stay up there without me or Sydney.

My bedroom is on the third floor and used to be a walk up attic. Tthe steps leading up to it end in the bedroom. If I’d get up, walk down to the bottom of the steps to flip the switch that will turn the fan/light above my bed on, she would follow me to the bottom of the steps. She’s learning now though. Now she simply hops off the bed and waits at the top of the steps to see if I’m coming right back up or if I’m heading downstairs. If I do, you guessed it, she follows me. If I head back up t he steps instead she waits until I’m practically on top of her before she trots back to the bed and hops up on it.

She’s just a foot or so away from right now. With a look on her face that clearly says she’s knows I’m talking about her. :)

Sunday, November 7, 2010

This is getting ridiculous....

When might I start to feel normal again?? Because I gotta tell ya' this sobbing at the drop of a pin is getting old. I cried through mass this morning, cried myself to sleep last night and I'm fighting tears right now. I'm cranky more often than I'm happy. EVERYTHING irritates me. I snap at the kids, the ass (he deserves it) and anyone who dares to look at me cross eyed. I'm sure I've pissed off quite a few people in the last two days alone but I don't give a rat's ass. I tell it like it is. Don't like it. Tough. If you want something sugarcoated eat a damn donut! (Thanks for that analogy Dawn!!)

I'm bored out of my friggin' mind and I can't even get someone to call me for an interview let alone offer me a job. I've filled out so many applications on line, and off, that I could probably do it in my sleep at this point.

At least four times a week the ass flips on me over something. Calling me everything from a whore to a word I won't repeat. Gee, whores are generally "gettin' some". Trust me, I'm not. As for that other word, well it takes great restraint not to punch his teeth down his throat when he says it.

I'm tired, fed up, pissed off and at the end of my damn rope. I'm SICK of people feeding me platitudes. I am NOT a robot. I am a human being and I have FEELINGS!!!!! I can't just turn them off for God sakes!

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Self revelation...

I have this grand plan that I’m slowly working on. Bit by bit. There have been roadblocks and bumps along the way but I’m getting there. In the midst of all that, I’m grappling with one dilemma after another. I question my every move and take an exorbitant amount of time to make a decision. Then, when I finally make one, I second guess myself.

I’ve never been a “go get ‘em” kind of girl. I work in subtlety. Which is code for “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing” and nine times out of ten when I’m successful at something it’s a result of good ol’ fashioned dumb luck or divine intervention. I am convinced that God spends 90% of the day exasperated with me, shaking his head in disbelief or disgust or both. And when I finally close my eyes every three days to sleep he sighs and says, “She’s so cute when she’s asleep….” much like the parent of a toddler in the throes of the terrible two’s. (Yes I DO occasionally throw small temper tantrums! What of it???)

I live with an almost constant fear residing in me. Some days it’s just below the surface and threatens to boil over any second. Other days I can bury it and damn near ignore it all together. But it’s always there. I can exude self assurance and fool even the most observant of people into believing that I really am confident in myself and have it all together. But the truth is I’m a train wreck. I’m impatient, klutzy, scared to death of the unknown, often disorganized and disheveled and would lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my body.

As a teenager my bedroom looked a bit like something left in the wake of a tornado. For years I probably couldn’t have told you exactly what color my carpet was it was so littered with clothing, books, stuffed animals, homework I’d forgotten to hand in weeks before and other teenage girl “stuff”. My mother waged a tyrannical war against me for four years in an attempt to keep my room from being condemned. I fought back every step of the way.

Yet somehow each morning I’d emerge from the chaos looking put together and with it. It was a fa├žade I maintained to assure that none of my peers ever knew of the battle I fought everyday. The battle against self doubt. No matter how sincere in friendship someone might have seemed I always harbored deep seated fears that it was all an act put on for my benefit. I always worried that I wasn’t liked and my so called friends weren’t really my friends after all. And in matters of the heart?? Forget it. I unconsciously sabotaged every relationship I was ever in because I just couldn’t accept that this member of the male species, a confusing, exasperating species, really cared about me.

I never felt a true sense of belonging and camaraderie within my circle of “friends”. Mind you, teenagers aren’t always known for their sincerity and tact. We were all likely, waging some internal battle with ourselves and the barrage of hormones that nature had unleashed within our bodies. Making all of us prone to moments of self doubt and cruelty to others as a defense mechanism. But as far as I was concerned no one else felt the way I did and therefore I couldn’t tell anyone know the things that haunted my mind on a daily basis.

You often hear adults reminisce about days past and utter things like “I’d love to spend just one day back in high school.” with a wistful nostalgic tone of voice and dreamy smile. Me? Hell no! I’d rather be attacked by a pack of wolves which, let’s face it, is much the same as being the victim of teenage scorn, particularly when said teens are of the female variety. Ya’ know? The infamous mean girls.

I vetoed girls names put forward by husband while I was pregnant with my daughter simply because I’d known some girl in high school with the name. “Oh no. No daughter of mine is going to be named Mildred. I knew a Mildred in high school and she was a bitch.” He’d look at me with that confused look donned by all men when faced with female logic that seems anything but logical. But no amount of persuading could move me. The name was relegated to the “over my dead body” column.

I can honestly say there are only two things I look back on fondly. Cheerleading and the brief period in which I “went out” with “Dude”. He shall remain nameless other than that. My best friends know exactly who I’m talking about. Dude was my first “true love” and the first guy who really broke my heart. One other had come close to the latter but I was just barely past becoming a teenager then so it had less impact.

The rest of high school and even a large chunk of my last few years in grade school are a blur of self loathing, taunting and teasing that I’d sooner forget. I haven’t. Some things just stay with you. No matter how hard you try to push them away. At my age the memories sting less and I’m even able to laugh at some of them. But there are still a few that haunt me. If I’m being honest, that little girl is still hanging around and would find great pleasure in some good old fashioned revenge. I keep her quiet with chocolate and music.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Yawn...

This whole insomnia thing is getting really old. Despite a pitch black room, two Excedrin PM and some soft music set veeeeery low I STILL couldn't fall asleep!! I laid there, with my eyes closed and my brain just went into overdrive. Divorce, finding a job, wondering if I'm being a complete fool, worrying about the kids, school, the holidays, blah, blah, blah.

Within a half an hour I had a headache, my heart was racing, I had a serious case of the shakes and was sobbing my heart out. HOW does one get a headache a half an hour AFTER taking Excedrin PM??? HOW does one NOT fall asleep with a sleep aid in their system??? And for God sakes I'm SICK of crying! I'm getting on my own nerves!!

So I climbed out of bed and abandoned the idea of sleeping all together. No point in wasting time laying there when I could be productive. Since I was obviously not going off to dreamland.

I need a vacation. Or a long weekend somewhere peaceful and quiet. I also need to figure out HOW to stop feeling the way I do or I'm going to end up having a nervous breakdown. Something I can't help but think my stbx (soon to be ex) would take pleasure in. He'll deny it but I don't believe him. Of course, I don't believe very many people these days. The Good Lord himself could come down and tell me something was true and I still wouldn't be able to really believe it.

I don't like what I'm becoming. Bitter, angry, hurting, sad, always crying. Don't get me wrong I DO find some enjoyment in life. My kids can still make me laugh. I enjoy spending time with my closest friends. I can escape into a book, though not as easily as I could before all of this bullshit started. As a general rule I can start and finish a book in under twelve hours. I've been known to read 7-10 books in a week's time. I've only managed to read, maybe, four books in the last two months.

Ok.. whine over.. I know, I know... I'm getting on everyone's nerves. No offense.. but ask me if I give a rat's patootie. :)

Thursday, October 21, 2010

If one more person...

...tells me that I have to let go of the sadness and hurt, stop thinking about the feelings and just do what needs to be done they're going to get my foot so far up their ass that we'll both need to go to the hospital to get it out.

I KNOW what I have to do thank you very much. I'm painfully aware of what I have to do. But unlike some people I am not a robot. I can't stop feeling and hurting with the flip of switch. I WISH I could!

Do ya'll (I'm using "ya'll" in general terms) think I LIKE feeling this way???? Seriously??? Don't ya' think I'd LOVE to just feel better all the time??? Trust me.. I would very much like to stop feeling alone, scared, unsure of myself and distrustful of everyone and everything. But I AM HUMAN! I've been lied to, let down and hurt so damn much, so many damn times that I've lost the ability to have blind faith in anything.

I trust no one. I believe no one. I want too. God I want too. But I CAN'T.

I'm just trying to keep myself sane and still make this whole divorce a little easier on everyone. I know that the general consensus is that I should "stick it to him" and maybe he even deserves that (ok, he does) but *I* have to be able to live with myself in the end. And I still maintain that carrying myself with dignity and maturity is the best way to go. If for no other reason than holding myself to a higher standard than he is holding himself too.

I'm also feeling depressed and discouraged. I have applied for a job after job and have yet to get a SINGLE call for an interview. I'm 41 yrs old, I haven't worked outside of the home in almost 20 yrs and I'm competing against twenty-something yr olds when the unemployment rate is up. I feel pathetic and worthless. And just a little pissed off at myself for giving up on my own goals for so many years.

There's very little respect for stay at home parents these days. *I* know I have the most important job in the world. I know that these years weren't wasted. And I feel betrayed by my soon to be ex husband. I feel like the minute it became possible for me to go after my goals again he decided to bail on me. And now I'm being forced to struggle and fight for some minimum wage, dead end job. And that pisses me off too.

I'm tired. I'm hurting. And I feel completely alone.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

The things I miss...

The things I miss…

I’ve come to accept the end of my marriage. There are still moments when the enormity of it hits me like a ton of bricks. “Divorce. I’m getting a divorce.” I never thought that statement would ever apply to me. Divorce was something that happened to other people. Now it’s happening to me.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious about what my future holds. I expect that anxiety will be present on and off for quite some time. I’m learning to cope with it. I know it won’t be there forever. I know that there will be joy, success and love in my future.

But there are things I miss. They are little things. Things that most of us take for granted until we don’t have them anymore.

I miss having a lap to lay in while I’m watching TV.

I miss having someone to talk to while I’m cooking dinner.

I miss knowing there is someone waiting for me at home when I‘m away.

I miss sharing my dreams with someone and having them want those things for me.

I miss laying in bed next to someone every night.

I miss looking forward to someone coming home at the end of the day.

I miss having someone to call when I’m excited or sad about something.

I miss walking hand in hand with someone.

I know what you’re thinking. I have my kids. And I love my kids. But it’s not the same as having a life partner.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Last blog...

I'm done. I have nothing left in me. I'll be deleting this blog in the next few days. It's time to unplug and focus on me. Just me. I can't be anything to anyone until I fix myself.

Thank you all for the support, the kind words and the love. All have been appreciated more than I can ever express. Anyone needs me, ya' know where to find me. Hugs!

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Rambling thoughts...

I have the TV turned off, the lights out and a candle lit. Silence surrounds me. The only sound is my own breathing and the distant sound of the train rolling through town. When we first moved into this house I found an odd comfort in that sound. I noticed it most often late at night and many nights I fell asleep to it’s rhythm.

This house used to be my refuge. It’s not perfect and sometimes I want to gut it and start all over but it’s mine. At least it is for now. I don’t know where I’ll be in a year, five years or ten years. I always imagined I’d be right here hosting holiday dinners and family BBQ’s for my family, friends, children and someday grandchildren. I never dreamed I’d be facing the monumental changes I'm now facing.

I have days where I am full of hope and motivation. Days when I feel like I can conquer the world. Then there are other days. Days where hope is nonexistent and I can’t muster the energy and motivation to fold a load of laundry. Those are the rough days. The days I need someone to vent, cry and basically bitch too. Something I loathe doing.

I hate crying. It makes me feel weak and like I’m nothing more than an overgrown baby. I hate complaining to people because I know it could be worse and I also think some people might be sick of hearing me. I’M sick of hearing me.

There’s no rhyme or reason to the ebbs and flows of my moods. One morning I’ll wake up and feel ready to start a new day. Other mornings I want to stay buried under my comforter and sleep forever.

Logically I know this is normal for someone going through the life altering events I am. Had you asked me a year ago if I thought my marriage would ever end I’d have emphatically told you no. Hindsight is 20/20. I’m not going to lie and say it was all bad. It wasn’t. No matter what, I have six great kids and they make everything worth it.

But looking back I realize we jumped head first into marriage and parenthood without thinking about what that all really meant. If you recall, my oldest son was born before we got married. But we were in love. But it was puppy love. We never really gave it a chance to grow into the kind of love a marriage should be based on BEFORE you say "I do". I don’t think it would have either, had it not been for my pregnancy. I'm not saying I wasn't deeply in love with him at some point during our marriage. You can't spend nearly half of your life with someone and have six kids with them and not feel love.

But we are so different. We see the world through completely different eyes. I always thought we complimented each other. What I lacked, he provided. What he lacked, I provided. I didn’t know that he was harboring feelings of resentment and discontent. Maybe if he’d told me sooner it would have been different. I’m inclined to think not though. We truly do bring out the worst in each other.

Facing these truths while trying to piece together the shattered bits of my life at the same time is exhausting. And even when I escape to Deb’s or just out for a drive I can’t stop the thoughts and fears from running ram shod in my head. So bear with me folks. I may cry. I may whine. But I’ll come out on top in the end if it’s the last thing I do.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Cheer Bows, Dr. Phil and what the HECK happened...

...to my life??????

WHEN did my life become a Dr. Phil episode?? Can you imagine the field day that man would have with me???? I LOVE the guy, I do. And I know that isn't a popular point of view and I risk scorn and ridicule by admitting it. But I can't help it. I love his no nonsense approach to everything. (I also think he and Judge Judy would make an awesome team!) I know it's just that no nonsense approach that annoys some people. My theory is, if something anyone says, Dr. Phil or otherwise, offends you, then it may just be that it hit too close to home and you're afraid of the truth. I'm just sayin'..

However, much as I love watching him knock someone down a few notches, I have no desire to be the one he's knocking down. He'd have me in tears inside of five minutes. Not that it takes much to get me blubbering like a two year old. You should see me watching an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. I'm a mess!

But my life would make a good Dr. Phil episode. Hell I'd be a great series for the guy. Neurotic, soon to be single Mom of six, who is afraid of her own damn shadow (but hides it well) and cries over Hallmark commercials and old reruns of The Brady Bunch. Just to name a few of my issues. I've got a million of them.

My tactic, to maintain my tenacious hold on my sanity, as I struggle to make the school dream come true and find some kind of job (or start the whole daycare thing again) is to keep myself busy. Which doesn't sound all that hard. If you're normal. I... am not normal. I have the attention span of a toddler right now. Fifteen minutes, thirty tops, is about the extent of time I can stay focused on any one task or activity. Then the fidgeting starts. I need to get up and move.

I use my iPod a lot. I find crankin' the tunes and dancing around my room (I feel like an idiot admitting that) can soothe me enough that I can return to my task. For another fifteen or thirty minutes. I also maintain that this inane, juvenile behavior also burns calories. And God knows I can afford to lose some of those.

I'm also volunteering for anything and everything I can. CCD teacher, Homeroom Parent and making cheer bows for Sydney's squad. I've finalized my design, have found sources for all of my needed supplies and will start putting it all together as soon as I have everything in hand.

Of course now that I've done that I have the let's get creative bug. I have two new bottle cap colors, hot pink and lime green, as well as a new type of chain for bottle caps necklaces. So I'm going to be cranking out caps quite a bit in the next couple of weeks. I think I'm switching from the liquid resin to adhesive resin drops. It will be much less time consuming and WAY less mess!

So that's me in a nutshell right now. It's Friday night. I'm sitting in my room, several tasks half finished surrounding me and I'm wondering.. what the heck happened to my life????

Blah!

Have you ever felt like a rubber band pulled too tight? So stressed and anxious that you’re afraid you really might self combust if you don’t find a way to relieve it all?

I’m there.

I have GOT to come up with something to do this weekend that will help me relax!! The problem is I can’t focus on any one thing more than fifteen minutes to a half an hour at a time. It took me nearly twelve hours to watch the season premiere of Criminal Minds in it’s entirety. I couldn’t stay focused on it.

Ideally I’d like to drive myself to some distant mountain retreat. Where it’s already cooler than it is here and the leaves are just beginning to change. All I’d need is a few books, some wine, my iPod and maybe my lap top. Oh and I suppose something non-alcoholic to drink before noon and maybe some food.

Poof.. And then I woke up. :)

Thursday, September 23, 2010

What if...

A long time ago I saw a movie. It has to have been at least 21 plus years. (Or less, I really can't say for sure. I'm old after all.) I don’t remember the name of it either. I don’t remember who was in it other than to tell you the lead actor had dark hair. At least I’m 99% sure he did.

The premise of the movie was that this man was given the opportunity to learn the answer to the question “what if..?”. What if he’d made this choice instead of that choice. What would the far reaching consequences have been? He was able to see his life as it could have been. He was also given the opportunity to choose the alternate life if he so wanted.

I know firsthand that a single act can have repercussions that no one could have predicted. And how it’s followed by a ripple effect that can last for years. So even the imaginary notion that you could go back and change something is a little tempting to daydream about.

I’ve been thinking “what if?” a lot lately. Something I generally try not to do. I can’t change the past so worrying about it is kind of pointless. I try not to have regrets or get angry with myself, the fates or God for things I‘ve done in the past or had happen to me in the past. Ok, so I was a little peeved at God not so long ago. But we’re good now. We chatted.

But lately, like I said, I can’t help but look at my life objectively and wonder what if I’d done this, instead of that. Where would I be now?

How does anyone know what the right choice really is. I mean really know. Ya’ can’t. Because ya’ just never know when life is going to throw you a curve ball.. or two… or three. Obviously we all try to make choices that won’t land us in jail or leave us dead, but I’m talking the life altering choices that we make in haste or in the heat of the moment. The one's that later make us think, "OMG! What was/am I doing??????"

I have absolutely no idea what point I’m trying to make that hasn’t been made by countless people before me. I guess I’m saying I hate uncertainty. And I hate that I hate uncertainty. Patience isn’t my strong suit. I wish it was. I wish I could “kiss it up to God” after exhausting all other options and be done with it. But I’m not wired like that. I have this need to know what’s coming next. Obviously, again we can’t know, with certainty what is coming next. But I need a clue at least. Maybe more than once just to assure me I’m not insignificant.

My self examination has lead me to a multitude of other conclusions about myself and even about others. I know the only person we can control is ourselves, I’ve always known this, I just didn’t want it to apply to me. I thought I could control others, or at least mold them into my image of what they should be. You’d think one lesson learned the hard way would make it that much easier to heed my own advice the next time. Yeah… right. Emotion plays too big a role in everything I do for me to ignore it's effect.

My biggest fault is I act before I think all too often. It’s one of the reasons I prefer written communication. It gives me a chance to read and re-read something before I click send (or mail it though I can‘t tell you the last time I actually hand wrote a letter). I have been known to pound out an e-mail in anger or excitement and hit send then regret something I’d said later. I am human. Despite the popular belief that I'm part vampire.

Again, I have no idea what the point I’m trying to make is… maybe that’s a sign I should get some sleep. Although… I’ve made quite a bit of headway in my bedroom and kind of want to kick out some more. I have tossed SOOOOOOO much crap.

Don’t ya’ love how I can switch gears with nothing more than a mental snap of my fingers?

Monday, September 13, 2010

What have I done...

...to offend the Gods???

Seriously.. it's one damn road block after another. If one more person tells me to "stay positive" I think I'll punch them dead in the face.

I'm only human for God sakes. I can only get knocked down so many times before I start to lose some of the hope, enthusiasm and motivation.

As if it wasn't bad enough that my soon to be ex husband decides after I WASTED eighteen plus years of my life with him that he's "not happy". Blah, blah, blah... Oh no that wasn't enough crap for the Gods to bestow on me. They/he/she/it (and yeah I'm questioning the existence of any higher power right now) had to throw more and more crap on for good measure.

And really, PLEASE don't ANYONE give me that line of bullshit about how God never gives you any more than you can handle. God can kiss my ass... yes I DID just say that and if ya' don't like it.. well then you can kiss my ass too.. :)~

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Rainy day...

I actually like a rainy day now and then. And this one couldn't have arrived at a better time. I'm PMSing. I'd dub it moderate PMS. In other words... I'm not psychotic.... yet. :)~

I am, however, a touch punchy, feeling a wee bit evil and just a liiiiiiiitle fatigued. This means.. tread lightly around me today. The correct response to any query by me is "Yes dear/Michelle or bitch if ya' desire. So long as yes precedes it. Just sayin'... :)~

No really.. I'm not that full of myself. :)~ I AM PMSing though.

Have I mentioned that once a month I really curse the fact that I'm female? The rest of the month I enjoy being a girl. :)

Sydney is supposed to have a game today. But it's raining. I'm actually grateful for this. It means the girls won't cheer. I know.. I'm an awful Mommy. But really with PMS rearing it's ugly head it's best I steer clear of the home front as long as possible. He and I have reached a cautious cease fire. I don't want to chance tipping the scales. So as long as the girls don't cheer I don't have to rush home from Deb's. :) Yes I am being selfish. I'm allowed to once in a while. Someone I trust said so. :)

So barring a sudden parting of the clouds and bright sunshine breaking through my ass will be planted at Deb's kitchen table for a few more hours. :)

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Girly weekend...

This morning Sydney and I loaded up the car and made the thirty-five minute drive to Deb's house. Slumber party. The one we'd had to cancel due to unforeseen circumstances over the summer. We'd told the girls that we would have it "after school started". THEY heard "the weekend after school starts". So here we are. It was easier to do it than deal with miserable tween and teen girls all weekend.

The girls are asleep now. Pete is on the couch watching TV. Deb and I are in the kitchen. Her on her lap top. Me on mine. We were talking about a VERY girly matter. One I'm not comfortable discussing in a public forum. The subject matter isn't important anyway. :)

During the course of the conversation we got a little giggly. As Deb and I do. I was working on a formula, for lack of a better word, and it was a little silly. Well... a lot silly. Our giggles turned to shrieks and before long neither one of us could breath and I was choking on pure air. My cheeks hurt now and my stomach muscles feel a little tight. Unfortunately my abs don't look the part. :)

We'd shriek for what felt like ten or fifteen minutes but in reality was probably less than five. No sooner would we calm down and catch our breath one of us would say something, a word or phrase and we'd start over. Or we'd just look at each other, one of us would smirk and we'd collapse into laughter again.

I think, in all, it took us at least fifteen minutes to catch our breath for good.

Of course, I just giggled writing this. Thinking about something I'd said and then Deb started to chuckle because she KNOWS exactly what I'm thinking. :)

Thursday, September 2, 2010

It's time...

I'm not quite ready to blog about school :).. For no other reason than that I'm too excited to get anything into something resembling coherent sentences.

However.. I thought it time to do something sort of symbolic. (Boys.. stop laughing. I AM a chick.)

It's time to retire my husband's rather unflattering nickname. He is no longer the buffoon. I'll call him Skip again.

Little side note here... when I was first approached by our mutual friend about meeting Skip my immediate thought was "what the hell would I want to go out with a guy named Skip for???" I'd also sworn off men after the very recent break up with my fiance. So I declined the meeting. The mutual friend made it happen anyway and the rest is history. Anywho.. the point of this rambling is this... I probably should have stuck with my first instincts here. Sorry Skip. :)

Now I have no doubt that at some point in the rest of our lives, because we have to be a unified front for our kids, he will piss me off. He's a guy. Need I say more. And I may revert to "the buffoon" when that happens.

He and I had the most productive conversation a few hours ago. It wasn't an easy conversation but it was productive and civilized. Not once did either of us raise our voices. That in and of itself is miraculous. We've ended almost every exchange with an argument and yelling in the last nine months.

I'm not going into the details because no offense folks but.. it's none of your business. I say that with affection. :) But we came to some agreements and clarified some things. And reached a compromise that we probably should have reached seventeen years ago.

So tonite I feel really good, really confident and just a little bit anxious. Which I personally think is a good thing. Keeps me on my toes. Never get complacent or so comfortable ya' start slacking.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Attitude is everything...

On some level I've always known that MY happiness and MY success is MY responsibility. Knowing that and doing something about it are two very different things.

I could sit here and blame others for the current state of my life. But the truth is, while some of the blame falls squarely on the buffoon's shoulders (despite his delusional belief that he's perfect), I have allowed myself to become stagnant and complacent. Somewhere along the way I lost my drive and motivation to any more than was absolutely necessary.

With a little soul searching and the help of some very special people I've come to realize that it's OK for me to live for myself as well as my children. It's MORE than OK. I can't be an effective parent to them if I'm not taking care of me as well. So I've started doing things for ME.

I have a new found positive outlook on my life and my future. There's one small downfall to this. I have little patience for people who bitch and complain about the state of their lives but do nothing do change things. I want to grab them, shake them and tell them "Cry a river, build a bridge and get over it!" I feel no malice when I think this. I simply want people to open their eyes, stop whining about what they don't have and be grateful for what they DO have.

Divorce is hardly pleasant but it's not going to kill me. A very dear, old friend of mine recently lost her husband to brain cancer. Her strength and courage have inspired me in more ways than I can express. If she can live through that with dignity and strength I can certainly survive the end of my marriage.

I've stopped looking at it as the "end of the world" and instead have started to see it as a new beginning for me. Because it IS a new beginning. I may not have planned for this but I CAN and WILL survive it. I will do more than just survive it. I will come out a better, stronger, more successful person IN SPITE of it.

From now on I will be the kind of woman I want my daughter to be.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

I really wish...

...people would mind their own damn business!!! I just received a lovely (sarcasm intended) e-mail from someone who seems to think that they know what's best for ME. Really??? Bite me bitch! I'd LIKE to use a different word here but I am a lady and I hate that word but it's the first one that came to mind when I read the e-mail.

Let's get something straight, in case anyone else feels the need to tell ME how to run MY life, I FOUGHT HARD TO TRY AND SAVE MY MARRIAGE THANK YOU VERY MUCH!! But I'll be damned if I was going to stand by and be treated like a piece of a dirt by the blithering idiot I married. HE did this. HE made this choice. HE created this situation and HE has been a world class asshole for months. Key word here folks?? HE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Got it?? Good!

So please, unless I ask you for your advice, (pardon my language) STAY. THE FUCK. OUT OF MY BUSINESS!!!!!!! Because the next time you send me an e-mail like that I'll be at your front door and I'll show you just how much of a bitch I can be sweetheart!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Shannon-isms

God I love this kid!!!!!! Shannon, Deb's daughter; age 8, is such a PIP!!!!!

We're sitting around discussing what we named our kids (we meaning me and Deb) and what the girls want to name their kids. That they're not having for another 30 years:) So I started rattling off my kids names. First and middle.

Shannon pipes up with "What's the buffalo's middle name???" I paused. The buffalo??? I looked at her and asked "who?". She says, "Ya' know what you call Skip.. the buffalo." Bahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!! "You mean the buffoon???". "Yeah, that's it!", she says.

Hmmm.. maybe I'll start calling him "the buffalo" now... Kind of catchy??

Survived....

I'd been dreading this weekend for months. The buffoon's nephew got married yesterday. I was not welcome at the wedding. As per the buffoon. (and more likely his family) He wouldn't have been able to have a good time with me there, was his excuse. snort... really? Like I give a rat's ass about that. However, the bottom line is, I have far too much class and far too much pride in myself to have gone. I know when I'm not wanted.

So I anticipated this weekend would be a very rough one for me. Guess what? It wasn't. Not even close. I don't think my mind wandered to the wedding more than a few times. And, again because I have class, it was simply to think to myself that I hoped Joseph and Elyssa's day was beautiful.

Other than that I spent this weekend with the people who REALLY matter in my life. People who I trust and love and who have been there beside me through all of this. And I had fun. Actually I had an amazing weekend. So the buffoon and his cronies can kiss my ass:)~

I also received an e-mail this weekend from my Aunt Liz. That in and of itself isn't unusual. We e-mail back and forth on a regular basis. She lives in California so e-mail is our main form of communication. She has known about everything that has been going on since practically day one. She said something this time that really blew me away BUT also was a light bulb moment for me. She said that she always felt like the buffoon talked down to me. After my initial shock, that she thought that at all, passed it hit me. She is ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!!!!!

He HAS always talked down to me and treated me as if I were a child. He has never supported me in anything, has never stood up for me and he has always viewed my opinions and ideas as stupid and unworthy of his time and attention. I was, in essence, an afterthought for him. A fixture in the house to be taken for granted. And I just took it. I'm an idiot!

Well my eyes are wide open now. My feelings and opinions have been validated by others. While I can't, and won't, say that I am blameless in all of this I was certainly more committed than he was to THE MARRIAGE and OUR FAMILY.

Now? I am committed to my kids and myself. It's time to make ME happy too. He (the buffoon) told me once when this all first started that part of the problem was that he needed to "find himself". Find himself?? What the hell is this? An episode of Dr. Phil.

I'll find him alright. I'll find his ass right out the door. As I recall HE has spent the last eighteen years building his career and making a name for himself in his field while I was chief diaper changer and bottle washer. Now?? Now that I actually may have had a shot at going back to school like WE planned all along?? NOW he up and decides he doesn't want to be married me anymore???? Nice. And he wonders why people think he's an ass?? Please. (insert eye roll)

What WAS I think all those years ago? Can I blame it on youth and naivety??

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Had to share...

I have tons of web sites saved to my favorite places. I MIGHT visit four web sites regularly. Meaning once a day. Others I visit once and MIGHT find again a second time.

I'm a quote freak. I love them. Funny, inspirational, sarcastic. Love them! So I have an entire folder devoted to web sites featuring famous and original quotes. As I'm scanning down the list of sites and my eyes catches the words "quote garden" and "sex" and I think.. "Ooooo!" (I know.. how juvenile.)

I click on the link and find myself on a page listing tons of quotes. (Thought I was going somewhere else there for a minute didn't ya'?) And this one caught my eye. I've read it before but I still reacted as if I was just seeing it for the first time. Laughed my ass off. Almost choked on a mouthful of iced tea.

"Men wake up aroused in the morning. We can't help it. We just wake up and we want you. And the women are thinking, "How can he want me the way I look in the morning?". It's because we can't see you. We have no blood anywhere near our optic nerve." ~Andy Rooney

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, August 16, 2010

Seriously?

I was at my children’s disposal all morning. Doing laundry, cleaning, etc.. but I was there for them to bug if need be. No one really had much to say to me. Sydney had her friend MiMi here, the boys were busy playing video games or running around in the back yard.

I make sure all children are INDOORS and hit the shower. I’m under the spray less than a minute and I hear the unmistakable sound of little feet running down the hallway towards the bathroom door. I hear a muffled, “Moooooooom!!!!!” I holler “WHAT???”. I have to or whatever child is out there will never hear me. And he or she will never leave. “Can I make some ramen????”, hollers said child (Sydney). “Yes!!”

I hear the pitter patter of little feet going the other way and continue to try and enjoy my shower. Not a minute later I again hear little feet. I sigh audibly and hear “MOOOOOOM!!!!” (Riley) “WHAT????”. I try not to sound angry but I’m getting a little annoyed. “Sydney won’t make me some ramen too!!!”, said in a whine. “Jesus.”, I mutter to myself. “Tell your sister that I SAID she can make you some too.”

Alone again I begin to wash my hair. And guess what I hear??? Yep. Little feet. “MOOOOOOM!!!!!” (Sydney) Now I AM annoyed. “WHAT Sydney????”. “Do I haaaaaaave to make Riiiley ramen???”, more whining!!! So I diplomatically holler, “YES!! You have to make Riley ramen and if you don’t leave me to shower IN PEACE you can make his AND Logan’s lunch for the rest of the week!!!!!”

I hear some muttering from her, I’m sure cursing me, but she walks (stomps!) away. MY GOD!!! They aren’t toddlers for heaven sakes!! I should be able to take a shower uninterrupted at least once a day!

Wow..

Has it really been a week since I blogged?

I started this blog as a scrapbooking blog. My main focus was going to be the things I was working on, techniques I was trying and layouts I was planning. I knew there would be other "stuff". Every day Mom stuff, kid stuff. But I never expected it would take the turn it did.

At the risk of sounding corny I can't help but think of a quote from one of my all time favorite movies. "Life is like a box of chocolates...", need I say more? So I was thrown a curve ball. It happens. I'm coping. Better than I was just a few short months ago. A lot better:)

Someone said something to me once that struck a cord with me. They said that part of their success was a result of surrounding themselves with positive people. And I thought about some of the people I'd allowed into my life in the past. Don't anyone have a cow I am not referring to anyone who might be reading this. At least I don't think I am. Ya' never know. I'm fairly certain though.

I have allowed some truly negative people into my life. I allowed their negativity to drag me down. I allowed them to suck the life out of me in some cases. No wonder I felt like crap all the time. It was like a V8 moment. I literally slapped myself in the head (not too hard cause I had a headache). My problem is I want to "fix" people and things. And I actually fancy myself quite good at it. I'm probably being a bit too generous thinking that.

I was always the "yes" girl. "Yes I'll babysit for you.", "Yes I'll watch your 4 kids for a week". And during that week it rained FOUR out of the five days. I had EIGHT kids to entertain. Oy. Ok we DID have fun in the end. But really? Rain? FOUR out of five days??? What had I done to offend the Gods??

I'm still more than happy to help a friend in need but I reserve it for the friends I think are REALLY my friends. Anywho... I went off on a tangent didn't I. I just consumed a Three Musketeer bar and I think the chocolate and sugar have given me a buzz. :)

What was the point I was trying to make? Oh... I'm feeling better. I'm not so afraid, I don't cry much at all anymore and I have a confidence in myself I haven't had in a long time. I know I have a long road ahead of me and it won't be easy. But I'll get through it. :)

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Lazy Mom Moment...

Shortly after I arrived home late this morning from Deb's I threw in a load of laundry. I just went downstairs to switch it to the dryer. (Yes I know it was probably done a good hour ago.. hush!) When I opened the dryer I saw that someone (ok probably me) had left a small.... ish load inside of it. I was so not in the mood to fold clothes. I stared into the dryer for about thirty seconds and said "the hell with it" and threw the wet clothes in on top of the others.

My theory was the other clothes would dry faster because the dry clothes would help absorb some of the moisture. Makes sense? Right? No? Ok.. maybe not but it's my story and I'm stickin' to it. :)

Oh and one more thing... will someone explain to me why, in the midst of what has been a somewhat hellishly hot and humid summer, I found a SNOW SUIT in one of the hampers???? WTH????

Friday, August 6, 2010

The Inner Most Thoughts of Riley...

The other night I was sitting in my room, curled up on my rocker, reading a book. It was pretty late but I knew some of the kids were still up watching TV in the living room. I heard the distinct wailing of my seven year old and what sounded like a small herd of elephants coming up the stairs. Brendan (12) and Logan (the 7 yr old) appeared in front of me.

Brendan is all diplomatic and proceeded to explain that Riley(9) hit Logan. Evidence of this is visible on Logan's back in the form of an approximately two inch long welt. I comfort Logan and ask Brendan to please have Riley come upstairs.

Logan's tears dry swiftly. Probably in anticipation of what he assumes will be Riley getting in trouble. Brendan comes back up the steps with Riley, looking like he's none too happy, in tow. I send Brendan and Logan away and face Riley.

Now, ya' have to know Riley and know that this kid can go from happy and carefree to ticked off in 1.6 seconds. He stands in front of me with this look on his face that clearly says, 'Mom. I am NOT in the mood.". I talked to him quietly for a few minutes. At first he adamantly denied laying a hand on Logan. With a little more cajoling I got him to fess up. I asked him why he hit Logan. With a totally straight face he looked up at me and said,

"He was pretendin' I couldn't hurt him. So I gave him something to pretend about."

I have no idea how I kept a straight face. The urge to burst into uncontrollable laughter was nearly overwhelming. Only Riley could come up with an excuse like that and say it without blinkin' an eye. The little bugger knew I was trying not to laugh too. I could see the twinkle in his eye and the smile he was desperately trying to hide.

The little twit. Look out world.. here he comes.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Toddlers and Tiaras...

So…. I have a confession…

I watch Toddlers and Tiaras on TLC.. I don’t condone pageants that have very little girls made up and dressed up to look like little adults. (I know that statement will piss someone off somewhere but touche.) I watch the show for the same reason we all slow down to gawk at the scene of an accident. It’s too horrifying to look away.

So I’m watching an episode right now. As usual I’m blown away by the behavior of some of the MOTHERS. I mean some of the kids are bad enough but their mothers??? Dear God.. I’d have to bitch slap a few of them just on principle.

One Mom is going on and on about how all of her daughter’s dresses and costumes are handmade as the camera pans her FIVE year old daughter’s pageant closet. A quick glance and it’s easy to see there are AT LEAST twenty different dresses and assorted costumes. And Mom says, “Every one of her dresses cost anywhere between five and ten thousand.”, in the most nonchalant tone of voice. I about choked. Dollars??? I rewound it (gotta love DVRs) and listened a second time just to make sure I’d heard correctly. I had.

Who the *^$! spends THAT kind of money on a dress or costume a child MIGHT wear three times MAX??????? Who the hell spends that kind of money on ANYTHING a CHILD is going to wear? Once or one hundred times?

As if that wasn’t the height of stupidity another Mom is prattling on about how she teaches her daughter that it’s what on the inside that counts not how a person looks on the outside. Oh really? Note, right behind her said daughter, age 4, is getting a facial, acrylic nails and there’s a spray tan on the schedule. I’m sorry. On what planet is that normal????

I know every pageant Mom (and/or Dad) has some reason or reasons that they think are perfectly plausible reasons to dress their three year old up to look like she's twenty-five and have then prance about some stage shakin' their booties for a crowd.

I think they're all full of it. Just my ever so humble opinion. :)

Moving forward...

Telling my parents about my marital demise was a hurdle I was close to terrified of jumping over. Ya' know what? It turned out to be not so bad. Once again, my overactive imagination was spinning tales of crying, yelling and blame being tossed around. The reality wasn't even close.

Accepting that my marriage really IS over was the first hurdle. Telling my parents was the second. I'm not going to tell you I'm done crying. I'm not going to tell you that buried deep down inside of me there isn't a tiny, little piece of me that hangs onto a tiny, little bit of hope. I'm not going to tell you this doesn't still hurt. It doesn't hurt all the time. It doesn't hurt every second of every day like it did for so long.

I can be in the same room with him, briefly, and not feel like screaming at him and clawing his eyes out. I can think about him and us and the memories I'll always have and not cry. I know in a week, a month, it will be a little better. A little easier.

I'm still a little scared. Sometimes a LOT scared. :) But I have good friends who encourage me, motivate me and comfort me when I need it. And even when I think I don't.

I know a year from now I'll look back and think "It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.". I know I'm going to face challenges but I'm willing to face them head on and work through them. There will always be someone to turn to when I need a little push or a hug. And someone to celebrate, even the little milestones, with.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Reality is never as bad as we imagine...

Well they know. "They" being my parents. And ya' know what? They took it well. At least my Mom did. I spoke to her not my Dad. I suspect he chose not to speak to me not because he doesn't want too but because he knows if he even hints at tears I'll lose it too. It's always been like that. If my Daddy cries, I cry.

I feel IMMENSELY better now. Like there isn't this huge weight on my shoulders. I don't have to hide anything anymore. Cripes if this is all I needed to do to shed some of the misery I should have done it months ago.

Live and learn.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Life goes on...

Imagine that.

I'm not going to sit here and say I'm feeling wonderful and ready to face the future head on with confidence and bold optimism. That'd be a bold faced lie. I'm feeling... better. I'm feeling cautiously optimistic. I'm not a complete blithering idiot. I've survived tough times before and I can do it again.

I sort of let the cat out of the bag with my parents today. My Mom called to tell me about something and then asked about stopping by and leaving my brother here for the night. I panicked. So I blurted out that it was a bad time. She immediately got suspicious. Mom radar. I ended our call quickly but then started to stew about it.

I knew THEY'D stew and worry. Because ya' know she turned to my Dad right then and there and told him what I said. So, being the coward, chicken shit that I am, I quickly tapped out an e-mail. Kept it simple and to the point. Didn't lay blame all at the Buffoon's feet. When I clicked send I got the spinning circle and then a message that "they" were unable to send mail and to please try again later. UGH! Just when I had worked up the nerve.

I mentioned the above to a friend. They suggested that it might not be the best (or most adult) way of telling them. It required a discussion. After snorting a few times and pouting a teensy bit, lol, I realized they're right. One problem.. it turns out the e-mail DID send after all. So I'm waiting with baited, nervous breath for the call and/or e-mail I'm bound to get from one or both of my parents.

I suspect they may have heard a whispering or two from someone already. So this may not come as a complete shock to them I mean, I DO lay it all out there for the world to see here on my blog. I probably SHOULD have told them before I started telling the masses huh?

I really hate it when I realize I probably didn't handle something the best way possible. Eh.. I'm human.

Oy...

It's happening. She's turning into a snot nosed little tween. I'm referring to my darling diva of a daughter. She's taken to plastering her room with posters (of boys) and spends an inordinate amount of time dancing around her room with her iPod cranked. She gets indignant if her father or I DARE to enter her room without knocking.

Upon seeing her bedroom walls (recently painted if you remember) her Dad said "Did she do this?" I said, "Yup.". He said, "By herself? No help from you?". Me, "By herself. No help from me." Him, "Oh boy...". As angry as I am at him right now I have to feel a little sorry for him as he faces the reality that his little girl is growing up. He's dreaded this since the day she was born. I should probably tell him that no matter what she'll always be his baby girl. But I'm not feeling that sorry for him.

I'm sort of excited about her growing up and at the same time I'm nostalgic. I miss the tiny little girl with the Charlie Brown cheeks who used to snuggle with me every chance she got:*(

ALL of my babies are growing up:(

Sunday, August 1, 2010

My daughter...

Is now the proud owner of "hot" (her word) pink ear buds for her iPod. Said ear buds set me back $29.99 plus tax.

I would NEVER have purchased a thirty dollar set of ear buds for a ten year old on my own accord. I was busy scouring the cell phone chargers for a car charger that will fit my cell phone. NO ONE seems to have one. Needless to say I was distracted when Sydney asked if she could get a new set of ear buds. I said fine but not expensive ones. She piped up a few minutes later that she'd found a pair that were "only $9.99" said in a tone that clearly said she coveted them. I said fine and gave up the hunt for a charger.

As we're walking up to the check out my darling daughter spots some old fashioned swirly lollipops and of course HAS to have one. So in the spirit of my birthday I said she could get one AND some for her brothers. We check out, I'm again not paying attention because she's prattling on about this and that. I vaguely hear the cashier tell me the total. I swipe my card, plug in my pin and we're on our way.

It's not until we get to the van that it hits me... "Wait a second... thirty-something??? How the....????" As soon as we're in the van I whip out the receipt and immediately discover the ear buds were NOT $9.99. They were TWENTY-nine ninety-nine. I looked over at that child and told her if she lost those ear buds she'd be toast.

She still insists that she was right and the computer was wrong. Whatever. Kids.

:*)

Just when I thought I might get through the day without bawling.. but this time, for once, they weren't sad tears.

Brendan, Riley and Logan made me another card for my birthday. They just brought it up to me. It says (and I'm typing this exactly as they wrote it):

Mom we all love you so much. You are nice, smart, funny and beatiful. We wish we could stay with you forever. We are so happy your our Mom. And we will always love you. Love your kids, Riley, Logan and Brendan

I'm a puddle:*)

Books...

The new Jodi Picoult book is out ladies.. House Rules. It’s on my MUST buy list for B&N later today. :)

I’m also looking for some recommendations. Someone non-fiction and non-Christian please, no offense. I’m just not in the right frame of mind for Christian anything right now. Why do I always feel the need to explain myself?? :) Anywho... Non-fiction, non-Christian and written within the last ten years. Anyone???

It's nearly 4 AM...

I am officially forty-one years old. Yikes. When did that happen?

I refuse to allow myself to wallow in self pity on today of all days. I don't fancy myself someone special or unique but I figure, at the very least, I deserve to treat myself nicely on my birthday.

So.. in the morning the diva and I are going to take a detour on our way home and do a little birthday shopping therapy. Some school things for her and a book or two for me or maybe some new clothes or heck, both! Then we'll head home. Where I'm sure I'll find the house in a state of moderate to catastrophic chaos and he will be nowhere in sight. However I'm not going to get myself in a tizzy over it. I'm not cleaning it up either. Not on my birthday. :)

Instead I am going to plant my rear end out by the pool with a book and something frosty and alcoholic. I'm not a drinker but someone told it'd be ok for me to indulge in one alcoholic beverage on my birthday. :) So... one it is. More than that and I risk getting stupid drunk. I'm a lightweight. :)

Happy Birthday to me:)

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Girls Night

I'm babysitting tonite. My best friend Deb's girls. Ashley is fourteen and Shannon is eight. I brought my daughter, Sydney with me as well. She's ten.

We went to MikkiD's for dinner and then stopped at Michael's to pick up some adhesive refills for our scrapbooking adventures.

We never got to scrapbooking though. I'd brought along my bottle caps and jewelry making "stuff"with me. I figured I'd work on those when the girls went to bed. They however found the prospect of making bottle cap necklaces much more interesting. Before I knew it they'd each picked out a dozen or more bottle caps that they wanted made into necklaces.

I ended up putting together thirty-five bottle cap/ribbon necklaces. Only I left my split ring tool at home. So I did this with my fingers. My fingers are now numb. :) I do have to say the girls did help a bit. But the split rings proved to be a little too difficult. Ashley eventually managed a few though.

We also listened to music, talked, danced around, talked some more and Ashley thought it a good idea to make up business cards for me so when she gives her friends their necklaces she can give them my card. Industrious kid so I let her have at it. :)

Shannon had me in stitches much of the night. This kid is a PIP! I don't really know the definition of the word pip, though I think it may be in reference to Pippy Longstocking, but I could be wrong. That does occasionally happen. :) Mom and Aunts used to use it all the time so...

Shannon decided I needed knitting lessons. So using one of my knitting needles and an old sock she proceeded to "teach" me how to knit. It was interesting. Later, when I said to her that she was looking a little tired she put one hand on her hip, wagged her finger at me while doing the head bob thing and said, "I've stayed up until midnight before. Annnnd I didn't fall asleep until one o'clock in the morning.". Her tone of voice clearly added.. "so there". Ha! She kills me.

We finished off the night with Auntie Shell agreeing to buy a few (ok a few more than a few) songs via iTunes. I added them to iPods and burned them to CD's and had three happy little campers.

They're in bed now. Though I doubt asleep. I'm sure they're whispering and giggling like little girls do. I told them as long as I didn't hear them and they didn't do it for too long it was ok. It's a slumber party ya' know? :)

We had fun but I am quite ready for some silence and solitude. I'm just not sure if I'll hunker down with a book or spend some time cruisin' the Net.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Hindsight...

One of my husband’s complaints has always been that I’m not social enough. I’m NOT a social butterfly but I don’t necessarily see this as a flaw. I’m not opposed to all social gatherings. I’m just not interested in attending one every single weekend, both Friday and Saturday night. And I’d much prefer a small gathering over a large one. In his family that’s not always possible. Eight kids, eighteen grandchildren, assorted spouses and now one great-grandchild.

But I went to family gatherings in years past even though the sheer number of people often left me feeling a tad overwhelmed. Yes, I stopped going as frequently and eventually for good (HE had a part in SOME of that time mind you!). For various reasons that I see no point in rehashing. I blame no one and everyone. Including myself. Water under the bridge.

The point is, when I was at family gatherings I always felt this undercurrent of tension and hostility towards me. I never felt truly welcome, nor a part of the family. Again I blame no one and everyone.

I can pinpoint at least part of the reason why I perceived things the way I did. And in this instance I AM blaming someone. Him. The buffoon.

Let’s go back to Christmas Eve, 1991. He takes me to meet some of his family. Mind you we’d had our first date a mere three days before this so I barely know him at this point. As we pull up to one sister’s house he turns to me and says, “Now just so you know she can be a real bitch.” Wow.. Yeah.. I’m really looking forward to going in there NOW.

She appeared perfectly normal AND her home was spotless despite having a small baby in the house. My Mother would have approved. I said as much later to him and he said, “Oh you wait..” and kind of chuckled an almost evil chuckle. I have to tell you that single exchange left a lasting impression and tainted my view of her for some time as did the exchange outside of the next sister‘s house.

We pull up to the house and again he turns to me and says, “Ok.. So… she can be a bitch too.” But did point out that she could be a bitch in a classy way and also felt the need to tell me she had some itsy bitsy powder puff of a dog (his word -paraphrased- not mine!) AND that she gave said dog doggie downers. Zoikes!! Yeah, I’m really lookin’ forward to meeting this sister now.

Again… this sister also seemed relatively normal though I did see the aforementioned dog. Who appeared stone cold sober I might add. I did note she WAS classier than… wait… that’s going to piss someone off and I don’t mean to say that the first sister doesn’t have class… let’s say the second sister appeared more refined and leave it at that. If it pisses someone off oh well… my apologies in advance. Anywho… I again told him I didn’t understand his warnings and again got.. “Oh you wait…”, evil chuckle and all.

Did I eventually “see“? Well… let’s just say that every woman has the potential to be a bitch. And every woman will probably need to be a bitch at least a few times in her life. :) Myself included.

So.. THAT is why I lay some of the blame at the Buffoon’s feet.

Ok...

Yeah, so... I started crying before I even typed the first letter of this blog.

Some of you will think that I'm being to generous and that he doesn't deserve this but I'm going to do it anyway.

Yes, right now, my husband is acting like an ass. Yes, he is knowingly hurting me and by his own admission he doesn't necessarily care all that much. (He cares just a little...)

Ok.. I need to push the bitterness away for a minute...

It wasn't always like this. It wasn't all bad. And if he's being honest with himself he'll agree. I doubt he would at this moment but he knows it down deep.

He is not a bad guy. He's making some bad choices in my ever so humble opinion. But he is not inherently bad.

Am I angry with him right now? Oh you better believe it. I'm fired up. I find his current behavior often cruel and malicious.

Beneath it all I still see glimpses of the man I married. It may be over now but at one time we were happy.

So yea, he's being an ass right now. But he's also a good Dad, a good provider and I've always been proud of his accomplishments. Maybe I didn't tell him that enough.

Anyway.... he really ISN'T a monster.. but I'm still hurt and angry.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Hmmm... interesting...

Allegedly the buffoons family have been following my blog. So I have a question for them..

None of you have ever given a damn about me or my kids so why all of a sudden is my life so interesting to you?????

I'm flattered. Truly flattered.

And if you're going to pass information on to my husband I suggest you get the facts straight first. Maybe it'd be a good idea to take notes so you don't screw things up??? Just a thought.

Yes I AM being a bitch and a smart ass.

And btw, some of you need to take a long look in the mirror before you start judging me. If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black... lol.. touche'.

Too drained to think up a witty title...

I don’t like to cry in front of people. It‘s happened. But it’s uncomfortable for me. Let’s start with the fact that I can’t seem to achieve the doe eyed, glowing, tear streaked face found only on Jennifer Anniston in some chick flick. Nor can I achieve gut wrenching sobs in a Oscar winning way. When I cry it’s not a pretty sight. Blotchy face, sinuses overblown, nose running like a faucet , eyes red and swollen darn near shut and the sounds emitting from my mouth sound like what I'm sure a dying cow sounds like. It’s quite frightening actually!

I have always been able to cry to my husband and find comfort in his arms. At least that’s the way it used to be. The one person I knew I could always count on when it really mattered is gone. I don’t mean to say I can’t count on my friends and other family members. I can. But… he has been my rock, my other half, and, I always believed, my soul mate for almost half of my life. I always knew when push came to shove I could lean on him. I don’t know if I remember how to be alone. And I don’t want to remember.

I cry alone most of the time now. I try not to overdo it. I really do. Because I realize it simply plays into the notion drilled into my head as a child that I am a drama queen. I’ll admit I was as a kid and I probably still have a little bit of drama queen in me (show me a woman who doesn’t) that comes out full force every once in awhile. I don’t deny my own faults. If anything I probably point them out too often.

But this really isn’t me being a drama queen. This is me feeling more emotional pain than I have ever felt in my life up until this point. I’d imagined, for lack of a better word, what it would be like if something like this were to happen to us. When we were fighting or having a really rough time, not often. I used to think I’d be able to handle it. I had discussions with my girlfriends about it and was adamant that if it were to happen I would do this, this, this and this… I’d react in a certain way. I had no idea what the hell I was talking about. No idea.

I never considered the true depth of the emotional ache. There are moments, though not as frequent as a few months back, when it takes my breath away. I feel it in every bone and muscle in my body. It really does effect me physically. We all know I’m not sleeping much. I’m not eating right. I think the last time I stepped on the scale I was down a good twelve pounds. Ok, I’ll admit.. I don’t really mind that last one. The point is I am blown away by how much this effin hurts!!!

When I’m not crying (like now, though I was about an hour ago) I can look at the situation somewhat logically. I know what I have to do and I do it. One day at a time. When I’m in the throes of a dramatic sobbing event I feel like I’m spinning out of control. Like I’m never, ever, going to feel good again. I want to crawl into my bed, curl into the fetal position and never move.

I don’t. When I’ve reached that point my logical mind usually kicks in and gives me a firm “Dear God Michelle.. Knock it the hell off!”. And I dry my eyes and go about my business.

What I want to know is when is it going to stop feeling so raw?? I know it’s going to hurt for a long time. But for how long will I have these moments where it feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest and then stomped on for good measure? Because I gotta tell ya’… it’s exhausting.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Sleep...

Everyone keeps telling me I need sleep (and I love you all for it, I really do).. but here's the problem. Sleep means that at some point I have to wake up. Each time I do I have to remember all over again. Because there is still this small, tiny window; not more than a second or two long; when I don't remember that my marriage is over. Even now after all these months it still hurts just as much.

I no longer want my marriage to work. Not really. But that doesn't mean I haven't stopped mourning the end of it. It comes in phases. And yes, I will admit that my raging peri-menopausal hormones play a role in the timing. But I can go days without shedding a single tear. Then something.. a song, a smell, whatever.. something brings it all rushing back into my mind and there's this moment of stark, cold reality... "He doesn't love me anymore...." And the next wave comes.

My head knows this too shall pass. My heart doesn't quite believe it. Right now it feels like I will never be happy again. Again, I know this is stupid. I'm the only one responsible for my own happiness. I know that I will find a way to be happy again. It won't be the life I planned but it will be my life.

Now I just have to get there.

Yes, yes... I'll get a few hours of sleep first.... don't anyone have a cow... :)

Thursday, July 22, 2010

It's a little after midnight...

...the diva is still awake. I have to admit that I am somewhat lax about bedtime during the summer. As long as everyone is settled down doing something quietly (watching TV, reading, etc) I'm not going to be a stickler about what time they turn the lights out. The younger kids generally nod off somewhere between 9 and 11.

Sydney is at that in between stage. Not quite a little girl but not a teenager yet. So she sometimes keeps going longer. She's doing her laundry as I type. Hmmm.. laundry at midnight. I wonder where she gets THAT from? Hey who am I to stop her from doing a chore!

However, Miss Thang finds it necessary to prattle on about God knows what at about a mile a minute while she's loading the washer and adding detergent and fabric softener.

I am in agony. I lost a filling some time back. I have an inane fear of dentists. I will avoid them at all costs. I need to be in excruciating, unbearable pain before I will seek one out. I'm not quite there yet. Agony is doable and can be downgraded to bearable with lots of Kanka and Excedrin.

I am not one of those people who wants a lot of attention when I'm hurting. Make sure I have liquid, pain killers and a quiet place to lay my head and I'll be fine all by my lonesome thank you very much.

I bathed my mouth in Kanka, I swallowed a handful (ok two) of Excedrin and now I just want QUIET. But Miss Sydney won't give it to me!!! She has to stop and tell me SOMETHING every time she walks past me. Which is frequently what with trips to the bathroom, the fridge and now to do her laundry. I finally had to tell her.. "Baby girl!!! I love you. God, I love you. But SHUT UP! Mama needs QUIET until the medicine kicks in." She said, "Oops" and crept away.

Only to be back not five minutes later babbling on about what she's going to do when school starts! OMG!!! Seriously???? I gave her my "I will light you ablaze right here" glare and she finally (I think) took the hint. Dear God above. The child is nothing if not persistent. I pity the man who marries her.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Being honest with myself...

I blow a lot of smoke about not giving a rat's ass what anyone thinks. Here's the God's honest bare bones truth... deep down. I care. (to a point)

I try not to let that need to please everyone taint my every decision. I haven't always been successful. I'm a "fixer". I want to fix people and situations and the scary thing is, when I'm in the midst of some new pet project, I absolutely believe I CAN fix anything. God complex??

Every day something happens that chips away at the denial I have surrounded myself with. I admitted, to him, for the first time since this whole soap opera began that maybe, just maybe, I'm not in love with him anymore either. I think I shocked myself more than shocked him. Personally I think he was probably relieved. It let's him off the hook a little.

I never thought I'd reach this point. I didn't want to reach this point. But the heart knows what the heart knows. I will not chase him. I will not try to win him back. I am too old for such juvenile games.

I've been looking at this, for so long, through a cloud of emotion that I haven't been seeing clearly. I'm beginning too now. I don't like what I see.

Just a little late night.. errr... early morning, bitching...

When might my children stop moaning and groaning every time I ask them to do something. It’s not like I’m asking them to do something incredibly difficult. Earlier I asked Brendan to please load the dishwasher. Not unload it first and then load it. Just load it. I‘d already unloaded it.

You’d have thought I asked him to cut his arm off and feed it to the dog. Thankfully I have perfected my “do NOT mess with today” voice and a killer glare that could burn holes into someone So he loaded the dishwasher. Muttering every so often just under his breath. This was and attempt to engage me in a contest of wills. One I’d have won. So I ignored him and saved him the humiliation.

I love my children. I enjoy them. I love spending time with them. I love seeing the world through their eyes. I have cherished every moment of being a stay at home parent… ok… not every moment.. But most of them.

That being said… I need a break!!!!!!!! Not a day or two. A week!!! TWO weeks!!!!! No kids. No husband. And honestly I don’t need a lot to entertain me either. My lap top (and an internet connection), a TV with cable, food, Icy Tea, cigarettes (shut. up.) and maybe a few bottles of wine. Oh.. And of course. BOOKS! I’ll be happier than a pig in shit.

I’m not opposed to a nice sandy beach with blue water, a couple of cute cabana boys to cater to my every whim and a small town within a short distance for emergencies and provisions when necessary as well. But I can live without that if the first set of conditions is met. Poof… and then I woke up. Keep on dreaming Michelle.

I’m sure someone, somewhere is wishing I’d stop whining… bite me. There are other blogs out there.

Wow… can you tell I am PMSing????? Yikes… now back to your regularly scheduled, PLEASANT, blogs….