Big Changes

So, last time I blogged, D and I were just talking on the phone and such, and I was very interested. Well, now we have actually met, and are officially "together". It became official on our second date. :) There was such an instant connection, such great chemistry right from our very first date. We've both already made references to the future, talking about things we'll do next year, and while those kind of things might scare me with someone else, it doesn't with him. We're both already thinking about the whole meeting the family thing, and both think it's going to happen sooner rather than later. My parents are already pretty impressed with him just based on things I've told them. Which, granted, is all good stuff, since I want them to like him. I want the kids to like him too, but they're a little harder to finesse, since I have to worry about making sure they don't get hurt if this all falls apart. But, I really don't think I have to worry about that.

This man just amazes me. When he holds me, I feel so safe and secure, and I just never want to leave his embrace. I love it when he kisses me, and it always makes me smile when he kisses my forehead or the top of my head. I love holding his hand, I love hearing his voice. I never thought I'd be this into someone that I've only known a very short time, and yet...here I am.

Wow!

I've been slightly...distracted(?) and therefore have neglected my blog.

New guy and I have been talking...well, pretty much constantly. Well, sometimes we don't really talk, we just kind of sit there on the phone in silence. And yet somehow, it's not awkward or feeling like it's an indication that things aren't going well. It's more like...comfortable, I guess. It's nice.

He impresses me more with each conversation. He fully accepts my kids. He doesn't refer to them as "the kids" or "the boys" or some other way that kind of seems to keep them at a distance...he'll actually use their names. And he remembers the things that happen. Such as....

J threatened to kill his teacher the day before yesterday. He got mad at her because she disciplined him for some other thing he had done wrong, so he decided to tell some classmates he would kill her. Needless to say, she wrote me a note regarding the situation. I wrote her back and told her how sorry I was that he would say something like that, assured her I had talked to him, and told her that even though he said he had apologized, that he was to do so again. I mentioned this to new guy (let's call him D, shall we?), and mentioned all this to D. Today, he asked me if J had apologized to his teacher, and when I said that J told me he had, asked me if I was sure. This prompted me to e-mail the teacher to confirm.

He also remembers things that I don't even remember mentioning. I mentioned having gone to school for phlebotomy and he remembered that and brought it up in another conversation. I had to go back and read thru our conversations because I didn't even remember mentioning it. It's little things like that that just melt me, and he doesn't even know it.

I don't know what it is about him, but there is something that just makes me excited to talk to him, disappointed to have to end our phone calls, and incredibly glad that I signed up for a dating site out of boredom and then contacted him. When I read his profile, I was instantly drawn. But, I hesitated a moment before actually hitting the "Send Message" button. After the fiasco with my ex-boyfriend, and the disaster that was my marriage, I've still been hesitant about starting something new. But, I just couldn't resist and I figured that it wouldn't go very far. Thinking that we'd end up as nothing more than friends, or that one or both of us would quickly lose interest, I sent that first message.

And now here I am, deeply interested in a guy I've yet to meet, but desperately want to meet. I'm so comfortable when I talk to him, I find myself telling him things that I've never told anyone else. I say things without thinking. I usually think about how stupid something will make me sound, or worry about looking like a goofball or something. But with him...it just comes out. I don't worry that he'll laugh at me, and even if he does laugh at me, I'm usually laughing too.

I don't know where this is going, but I have high hopes and I really think it's going to be a good thing, if not a great thing.

Soooo.....

The kids brought home their report cards yesterday. C still has a D in math, which he knows I'm not happy about, but the rest of his grades are C's & B's, which although they could be better, I'll accept. Conduct is still S in all, so I'm proud of him for that. He's come quite a long way with his ADHD. J came home with all E's & S's, and S's in conduct. He's doing really great.

I had to get a new printer today. I discovered the other morning that my old one was not compatible with Vista. I checked, before I got my new computer, to make sure that all my different software would be compatible, never even thought about the stupid printer until I tried to print something out for the kids' teachers and it wouldn't print.

J had his field trip today, and he came home thrilled to death. The most exciting part of his day: a tie between milking the goat and petting the pig...on the butt. Kids are strange.

I no longer have cause to complain about jerks, liars and losers...well, for now, anyway. I've been talking to this man lately, and I'm very interested in him. Maybe more than I should be, I don't know. I really like him a lot. He makes me laugh, and if he's not making me laugh, he's at least making me smile. He's a really nice guy, and every time I talk to him, I find myself liking him even more. I haven't met him yet, although I really want to. I'm just not sure if he likes me as much as I like him. I'd like to think he does, but...it's been a while since I got to this point with a new guy. When Crazy Ex-Boyfriend and I got together, we had known each other before, so there really wasn't that whole getting to know each other and figuring out where we stand phase. We just kind of jumped right in, since we already knew each other...and he'd made it pretty clear how he felt about me.

Most of the guys I've talked to lately, after two or three conversations, I find myself losing interest. I don't even know why. But every time I talk to him, I enjoy it and I hate it when we have to hang up or stop instant messaging. And if I don't lose interest in them (which is usually the case), they decide they don't want to deal with the fact that I have kids, which is especially annoying when they already knew I have them before the first conversation even started. Not only does he not mind that I have kids, but he actually listens to me blab on and on about them or to them (or at least, he pretends to listen). I've even found myself telling him things I've never told anyone else. I'm not sure if that should make me happy or scare me.

I don't know what's going to happen with him, but I know what I hope will happen.

E and I are still friends, but neither one of us wants more than that. We don't really have enough in common for more than that, and he seems to want someone that can pick up at a moment's notice to go to dinner or whatever. He didn't mind the kids, but he just needs someone who can be more spontaneous. No big deal, no drama there. :)

By the way, speaking of men, is anyone looking for a slightly clingy, unintentionally annoying, more than ready for a commitment kind of guy? Because I know one that I would just love to see him happy...with someone else.

Easter Eggs, Report Cards and why I'm a single mom

We colored our Easter eggs today. Every year, I obssessively inspect twelve eggs as they go in the pan. There are never any cracks, crevices, or weak spots crying "Don't boil me!" that I can see. I add water, heat, and about 10 minutes later, I have nine very nice eggs, and three that sport any of a variety of cracks: spiderweb, equator style, and Humpty Dumpty style. This year I had all three styles of cracks. How does this happen. What happens during that brief window of time when water and heat are present to cause these perfect eggs to become a mess? And why do I then eat multi-colored egg salad the week following Easter? The boys think the colored egg white is really cool when they do it, but ask them to eat it? Oh, goodness no! That's like asking them to eat rat poison, which I suspect they might be more willing to eat.

C brought home his report card on Thursday. This child has made me so proud. He's in 2nd grade, so they don't yet do the A/B/C/D/F grades, they do E/S/N/U, for Excellent, Satisfactory, Needs Improvement, and Unsatisfactory, same as the conduct/behavior grades. He came home with all S's for his academics, and all E's and S's for his behavior. This child struggled with reading and math all year, and had tons of trouble last year and in Kindergarten due to his ADHD. To have improved this much is such a wonderful thing, and I am so proud of him.

On that same day, he also scared the crap out of me. He and J are real big on finding....well, any living creature they can: lizards, frogs, toads, grasshoppers, beetles, whatever. That afternoon, they were digging by a pile of rocks, and I heard the word "worm" on the breeze a couple of times, so I wasn't overly concerned about what they were doing. Until a few minutes later when C shouts to me, "We found a snake!" I, of course, as mothers do, flip out. "What are you doing? Put the snake down!"

"It's just a little one!"

"I don't care! Put it down!"

"But it's tiny. It can't hurt us!"

I get a jar and demand that my child immediately deposit this tiny, little can't-hurt-us snake into the jar. He does, but very reluctantly and giving me the evil glare that says I'm the wicked witch of the west carrying Dorothy off to my castle.

I come inside to look the snake up on the internet, with stern warnings and threats of bodily harm to my sons of what will happen if they dare to touch another snake. Fortunately, they were right, it wasn't venomous. It was a Florida Crowned Snake, completely harmless to humans, and apparently fully grown at it's incredibly tiny size. I have some pictures that, once I calmed down, I took and will post later. I let them keep the snake for a couple of days, and this morning, we set him (her? it?) free in the front yard, so it could go on it's merry way. Then, we had another talk about leaving snakes alone and how it's not nice to give Mom a heart attack by catching one and then insisting that it's not going to hurt you.

I belong to a website for moms. It's a website where you can join groups that revolve around a variety of topics, and ask questions in various forums on numerous parenting issues, including relationships, cooking, and the different stages of your child's life. Recently, there was an article in a popular entertainment magazine about Jamie Lynn Spears and how she isn't going to get married right now. There was also a recent announcement that Sarah Palin's daughter and her boyfriend/father of her child broke up. And then, of course, there's Octomom.

Now, on the website I belong to, there are some very...young moms that have taken the stance that these girls/women are right, in not marrying. They are of the opinion that "you don't need a man to have a baby". Now, I am only 30, so I am not from that generation where unwed mothers got sent off to live in a convent or the desert until the child was born and then returned claiming they just had a nasty case of pnuemonia. But, the women making these comments are one of two things: they don't have kids yet (usually, they are pregnant), or they are happily married to the love of their life. Now, my question to them is: Do they really think that we CHOSE this life?

Let me be clear: I did not CHOOSE to be a single mother. I didn't get pregnant with the intention of raising my children alone. Yes, I was not yet married when I got pregnant with my oldest child. And yes, I did tell his father that I was not going to marry him simply because he got me pregnant, and yes I did mean it. But still, it was not my choice. It happened, and I was going to do what I needed to in order to care for and raise my child, even if that meant going it alone. But it was not my choice: it was not what I used to dream about when I would be waiting to fall asleep at night, it was not my goal in life, to get a good job and then have a couple of kids and raise them alone. I intended to raise them in a partnership, with their father. That did not work out. Their father was not capable of being a good father and husband, and I reached my breaking point, the point at which being a single mom sounded better than being his wife.

But, still I would never, ever tell anyone that being a single parent, mom or dad, is a good idea. It's hard. There is no one to share the load, no one to help discipline or share disappointments, no one to celebrate with. No one to take over when I get sick, no one to cook when I am too tired. No one to ground them, to order them to take a bath, feed the dog, or go to bed, just me.

I love my children, and I would not trade them for anything, and if I had to go back, knowing how it would all turn out, I still would do it all over again. But, with that said, I got the impression from what I read about Bristol Palin that she is promoting abstinence. That's all well and good, but I have to say, I don't think I want my kids looking to her for suggestions on how to handle their sex lives. Whether she intends to or not, she looks like a hypocrit, and sets a bad example for teenage girls. To stand there, while holding your baby in your arms and say "don't have sex", makes you look like a hypocrit. And naturally, she looks great. Her family has money, more than most single moms, and so she has people to take the baby while she does her hair and make up before going in front of the cameras. It sets the wrong image in a teenage girl's mind of what motherhood is like.

I just had to get that off my chest.

The Passage of Time

I have 2 sons, as I've mentioned before. I also have a rather large extended family. I have a cousin who is soon to be sent to Iraq or Afghanistan in the Army. He's an...interesting young man. He's a father of one son, divorced, and for a long time, we thought he would be on a downward spiral to nowhere good. Several years of bad choices landed in him in a variety of jailed situations, and gave him a little list of felonies. The birth of his son apparently changed him, though, and after countless futile attempts to find a job, he did the only thing he could think of to do: he went to the judge, and pleaded to have his felonies converted to misdemeanors so he could join the Army, and therefore support his son. He's just completed basic training, and once he completes this other training he is in, he will be off to Iraq or Afghanistan. I can only hope he comes home safely, for the sake of his son, his parents, and the rest of my family.

Around the same time that I learned my cousin was doing this, I heard on the news the story of a little girl who's gone missing in a nearby town, and her mother did not report her missing for 5 weeks. Every time I've seen the mother on the news since then, she seems to show no concern, no fear, no sadness that her daughter is missing.

When I found out about my cousin, my thought was: Ok, he's doing this to support his son, and that's wonderful, but what happens to his son if something happens to him? Has he thought of that? Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging him. I just wonder, as a parent, has he thought of that possibility, or has he put it out of his mind because it's just too horrific a thought to consider?

When I heard about the little girl, my thought was: How the hell does your child go missing and you don't report that for 5 weeks?! If my sons were to go missing, it wouldn't take me 5 minutes, maybe not even 5 seconds, to report them missing. Her excuse is that she was using "other resources and conducting my own investigation." Huh? What other resources are there? What better resource is there, than the police, who have the equipment, the resources, the ability, and the manpower to mount a true search and find my missing child(ren)? They've found pictures where she's been out partying at clubs since her daughter went missing. What the hell kind of parent can go out clubbing while their daughter is missing, her whereabouts and safety unknown? With the fear that her daughter could be hurt, dead, or having who knows what done to her, lurking in the back of her mind, she can go out and dance, drink, and have a great time? I find that interesting.

My oldest son, C, made me a little felt and popsicle stick picture frame when he was in Kindergarten. He glued a Kindergarten picture of himself to it, and put glitter around the edge of the picture. The frame had gotten put up for a while, but my son found it the other day. He hung it on the doorknob of the linen closet of my bathroom. Last night, I saw the frame hanging there and I plucked it up and looked at the picture. What I saw made me cry.

My baby was 5 yrs old in the picture. Chubby little cheeks and chin peered out at me, framing a quicksilver innocent grin, the grin of a little boy whose life couldn't be better. His eyes were bright, eager, curious. The photographer was his friend, you would think. Wearing a blue T-shirt, his hair just a bit too long, brushing against his shirt collar, he looked like a baby.

Now, my baby is 7 yrs old. Time has carved away the chubby little cheeks and chin, bringing to the surface the bones that will give him the face of a man. His hands are already showing the veins and the strength of a man. His eyes are more guarded now, he's begun to realize that not everyone is his friend, and that some people can't be trusted. That loss of innocence has changed his smile, too. It's no longer so innocent, so fast to form. It's slower, a bit wary, as if he wants to be sure there's a reason to smile before he does so. It's a smaller smile, as though he doesn't want anyone to know he's happy. He's not as cynical as an adult, he does still laugh and smile, just not with that same bright innocence.

He's nearly as tall as I am already. Granted, I'm short, so it doesn't take much, but still. His height, and weight, prevent me from picking him up anymore. He will still crawl into my lap and cuddle with me, but more and more, he doesn't want to hold my hand, and he certainly doesn't want to be treated like a baby. He'll still come to me when he gets a boo-boo, and wants a kiss for it, but the kiss is becoming more and more of an afterthought than a necessity.

When I look at him, I see the baby he was, the child he is, and the man he will become, all rolled into one little body. And it's strange. I always wanted him to stay little forever. But, I always thought, as he got older, and began to look more and more grown up, that it would be easier to let go, to let him grow up. But it's not. In fact, I think that makes it even harder. Seeing him need me less and less makes me want to grab hold all the harder, and squeeze him even tighter.

My 4 yr old, J, he still looks like a baby. Still has the chubby cheeks, the little belly, and needs his Mommy's boo-boo kiss to make it all better. And yet I know, all too soon, he too will begin to look more and more like the man he's going to become than the baby he is. He starts Pre-K this year. The first steps toward that fateful day. I look forward to it, and yet at the same time, would be perfectly happy if time stood still all of a sudden for a few years.

My oldest will be in 2nd grade. He'll show the baby the ropes, help him find his classroom, all that good stuff. I asked him to do that. It was a bittersweet moment, to ask my firstborn baby to be a grown up and show the baby what to do.

These moments, these realizations, are what makes it so hard for me to understand a woman whose child goes missing, and she, from all appearances, does nothing about it for more than a month. Every day, my children are growing and changing, and I don't want to miss a moment of that. She's missed a month of her child growing, and if something has happened to that child (I hope nothing has), then she may never again get the chance to see her daughter grow or learn something new. How does she live with that knowledge?

My cousin, I can understand. I couldn't do it myself, but I can see what he is doing. He's doing what he can to ensure his child is taken care of, is healthy and happy and has what he needs. What excuse does this woman have? She let 5 weeks go by without telling anyone her daughter was missing. 5 weeks....her child could be anywhere; anything could have been done to her by now. Any clues they might have had could be gone by now. According to the news, she keeps asserting that the person who has her daughter loves the girl. All I can say is I hope she's right, and that if the person who has her does love her, then perhaps she's better off there. It would appear her own mother doesn't care.

Good news/Bad news

So, I have an assortment of good news/bad news scenarios going on right now.

Tomorrow is my last day at my current job. This is a combo of good and bad. The other good/bad aspect of tomorrow is: I have a Skills Verification Test for a new job. It's in the middle of the day. So I have to leave for a while to go do this. It's bad because of the timing. But it's good (and the good considerably outweighs the bad!!) because it's for a job I really want, and that could be a really incredible opportunity.

I got J into Pre-K at his brother's school. I was really worried it wouldn't happen, because you apply and then they draw names to see who gets in. But he got in! This is really awesome, because he so desperately wants to go to school with his big brother. I got the call this morning, and I can't wait to tell him tonight. He's going to be so excited. The bad side to it, is that I have to hurry up and get him into the doctor and make sure that all his shots and stuff are up to date, before the sign up date at the school. Which, with my current job situation, is an expense I really didn't want to have. But....gotta do it.

Back to the work situation...this last month or so has been kind of surreal. I've never before worked at a job with an end date in sight that I didn't set myself. I've given notice at a job. I've been laid off - but always with that day being the end. This time, they asked me (us) to stay on to help with the transition. It's very weird to continue doing your job when you know that what you're doing is pretty much a waste of time. And of course, it's much harder to bite your tongue and be nice when you've got nothing left to lose. Well, except a good recommendation - but even that is sometimes barely enough to keep you from saying the thoughts that come to mind when someone says something really stupid or really insulting.

Even with the surrealness to the situation, and even with the urgency that I feel to get another job, I somehow don't feel panicked. I don't feel as though my life is going to get really really bad after tomorrow. I feel like....like this is meant to be, and it's all going to work out. It's a good thing. As the old REO Speedwagon song says, it's time for me to fly. This job helped me spread my wings, learn new skills and master my temper and my patience, and now it's time to take what I've learned and apply it to a new, better job.

C is getting an award at school next week. They do an awards assembly at the end of the year. His behavior last year meant he didn't get one. He does this year, though, and I am so proud of him. In the less than 2 months since he started his medication, there has been a total turn around in him. His grades shot through the roof, his conduct grades went up to where they should be, and his attitude at home has gone to normal child attitude. He knows he's getting an award, and he's excited, but I know he doesn't realize the significance of this. To me, this shows me that I did the right thing by going against my own feelings of doubt and putting him on the medication. It shows me that he truly is the good kid I always knew he was, and that he just needed that little bit of help. And it shows me that the improvement I see is not just wishful thinking, but it truly exists. He's gone from being on the verge of suspension for his behavior, to getting an award. In less than 2 months. Miracles do happen.

How odd is this, with my unemployed status looming ever closer, gas prices through the roof, and not knowing how I'll pay my bills soon...but yet I couldn't be happier with my life, and wouldn't change it for anything.

I guess that's the good news and the bad news.

Oh, what fun....

I really try to stay a positive person. I try to be optomistic and look at challenges as chances to grow and to learn.

Here's my situation right now: I'm out of a job as of May 30th, I have 2 sons in glasses, and the youngest has to go back in about a month to ensure he's got the right prescription, my oldest has ADHD which costs me $116/mo in meds, and $125 every two months in dr. visits, and it looks like my youngest will be following in his hyperactive, unfocused older brother's footsteps. No insurance. I have a $900/mo mortgage that my family has to pay b/c I can't, and miscellaneous other bills that my current paycheck minimally manages to cover with the assistance of my very meager savings account.

Can you see where I'm having some trouble staying positive right now? I mean, let's not forget, gas prices no longer creep up, they are pogo-sticking their way higher and higher every single day, and food prices are not far behind.

I try to keep my kids from knowing how bad the money situation is. I don't feel they need to know, or worry about that. But, when gas prices go to $3.77 a gallon, it gets harder and harder to tell them no on other things without having to explain what's happening.

Fortunately for us, we have lots of home entertainment. A satellite dish with 200 channels, tons of DVD movies, a pool, a swingset, and grandparents right down the road. Now, before you say I'd have less money trouble if I got rid of all that stuff, let me clarify that first, the money came out of my tax refund for the pool and swingset, I've had to DVDs for years, and the satellite is #1 a contract I can't get out of and #2 a necessity with 2 kids, no gas money, and living in a state known for horrendous summer weather. Although we are in a drought right now...we really need some rain. Do a rain dance for us, will you?

Being serious, our situation isn't desperate yet, but it could quickly get there. And I know we're not the only ones feeling this way. We have to do something. We have to figure out a way to bring gas prices back down, to bring jobs back to America, to increase pay, all kinds of things. It's just sad that we feel so powerless.

Ok, time to lighten the mood. I was driving home from the grocery store with the kids the other night. And so I don't have to keep saying "oldest" "youngest" all the time, let's call my oldest C and my youngest J. So, we're listening to the radio, one of those dedication shows. This girl called in and had the same name as me. C's like, "Mom, that's your name!" I said, "Yeah, it is." Then the girl says she's 17, and C goes, "Oh, that's not you, Mom. You're not 17." So, I tease him. I say, "Are you saying I'm old?" (I'm 29.) He gave me this look, the one that males give you when they don't know what to say because they think any answer they give will get them in trouble. So, J pipes up and says, "No, Mommy, you're new!". I absolutely cracked up. C quickly changed the subject. I have to teach him the fine art of telling a woman what she wants to hear...or maybe I'll let his brother teach him.

So C gets done with school in just a few weeks. I'm so proud of him. The improvement in his attitude, grades, everything, since he started his meds is just amazing. And he's so much happier now. I've found out that the manufacturer of his meds provides assistance if you can't afford your meds, so I'm in the process of applying for that. That will take a huge weight off of me. At least until J needs meds. I'm still hoping to avoid that, though. Just not sure how.

Oh, well. Off to work now.

Can you say unemployment?

Last week, at about this time, my co-workers and I got called into a "short" meeting that sent us all into a tailspin, and everyone went home early. We were informed that our particular branch of the company we work for is being closed at the end of May.

So, I've spent the last week alternately ignoring my situation and frenziedly sending my resume to any phone number that seems to even remotely resemble a business' fax number. Ok, not exactly like that, but I've definitely been responding to lots and lots of job ads.

They are giving us a nice "completion package", which is corporate speak for "we're laying you off, but we want you to stay and be nice until we're ready to really do this, so here's what we'll give you to smile and pretend you don't want to murder us in our sleep."

I'm not too panicked, yet. With the job market the way it is, and the economy the way it is, panic is not too far off, though. It's hiding behind the bedroom door, actually, breathing heavily in the night. I usually jump into bed, because you know, monsters behind the door can't get you in bed.

I have to make jokes, even if they're bad ones. If I let myself think about this in any serious way, I might cry. Seriously. This was a really big shock, and as a single mother with two kids, and an ex-husband who doesn't pay child support, it's a major reason to freak out. Oh, and did I mention that my mother also got laid off that day? Hers was effective immediately; at least I have until the 30th.

I'm looking into working at home. Gas prices are making it harder to even go to work. How sad is that? It used to be people wanted to work at home b/c they wanted to wear pj's all day, or be home with their kids. Now, they do it b/c they can't afford to go out and drive to work.

Ok, enough with all the whiny, poor me crap.

My son is doing awesome on his meds. He had his follow-up appt on Wednesday, to see how the meds are working. It's amazing. He's even stopped grinding his teeth at night. He brought home his interim report on Tuesday, and he had all S and E grades. I'm so proud of him, I can't even stand it. And he's so funny now. He tells me all the trouble other kids are getting into and saying "don't they know they can get in trouble for that?"

It's great to see him so much happier, though. And that's what's really important. He was...not miserable, but he wasn't a happy boy for a long time.

*Sigh*

Back to work.

I'll keep you posted.

It has been many moons since my last post...

Sorry, I just watched an old western type movie with indians and cowboys and stuff....the title was a bad attempt at humor. :)
So, in seriousness, it has been quite a while since I posted. Things have been stressed around my house for a while.
My oldest son was getting into lots of trouble at school, and at home, too. For a while, I was living in denial. And I don't mean the river in Eygpt, although I would like to visit that one. But, anyway, I kept telling myself he just needed....well, anything but what he really needed. I tried changing his diet, to eliminate preservatives and artificial colorings, flavors, etc. Which I needed to do anyway, just because it's healthier. That helped, but not a lot.
So, in the end, I had to suck it up, gather my courage, and let the dreaded question pass my lips: Does he have ADD? And to my horror, disappointment, fear, but not surprise, yes, he does. Massively.
My whole reason for dreading this diagnosis is that they generally medicate. I've always felt that medicating a child to get them to behave the way you want them to just isn't right. Don't misunderstand me....ADD/ADHD does exist, and there is nothing wrong with parents who medicate for that purpose. I just lived in that wonderful non-reality where I didn't believe my son needed medication to behave. I believed that I just needed to discipline more, praise more, something.
I was wrong.
My son's doctor put him on Focalin XR, and I'm in the midst of preparing to climb Mt. Everest and sing the praises of medication. OK, not really, but close. My son has totally turned around in the 4 days he's been on his medication. He listens, he remembers, he focuses, and he doesn't argue nearly as much as before. He does things without prompting, and doesn't fight doing chores any more than any normal 7 year old. Still fights with his brother, but hey...they're brothers. Can't fight nature.
The relief I feel over this situation is amazing. Or maybe that's just vacation.
I've been on vacation this last week, while school was on Spring Break. I had a whole week off with my boys. We spent every day outside, pretty much all day. It was beautiful. Here's one picture from the week (it might make you cry...get a tissue):




OK, I gave ya two. We went fishing, too. That's the lake. Beautiful, isn't it? Too bad the fish weren't biting. They apparently went into the witness protection program to hide from the cold front that has moved into our area. It's freakin' cold today! Well, not cold, I guess, but compared to this week when we've been getting sunburned and baked and roasted and fried outside, it's cold!

Still, all in all, vacation has been awesome. The tension and stress from my job has gone away, and I feel ready to face it again. We'll see if that feeling sticks when I get up and go in tomorrow. But, my sons and I have used this opportunity to reconnect and get close again. Work, school, and daily stress make it hard to feel close on a day to day basis sometimes, when it seems to them (and to me) that all we do is work, homework, cook, bathe, eat and sleep, with no time for pleasure, fun and just being together. This week has been awesome. We've had lots of time to talk, to play, to relax and enjoy each other's company.

We even went swimming yesterday. The water was really cold, which is why we usually don't swim until around Memorial Day. But once you got in, it wasn't bad. Or maybe that was hypothermia setting in. I'm not sure. If my lips go back to their normal color by tomorrow, we'll say it wasn't bad. If I never post another blog, well....then you'll know not to go swimming in April. :)

Meanwhile, it's a cloudy day today, with a chilly temperature outside, but nice and cozy inside. The kids are watching a dinosaur cartoon on TV, and I'm getting ready to put some stuffed shells in the oven for dinner. My mom made them for us. :) She's awesome. She made sure I don't have to cook on my last day of vacation. And she even made me some pasta salad for dinner tomorrow night, so all I have to do is figure out a meat to go with it. She made my first day back to work a bit more bearable, too.

I love my mom.

I love my kids.

I love my vacation...wish it was longer.

I love my life.

I love my job....well, let's not get to carried away here with the lovey-dovey crap, shall we?

Memories...and confidence

Have you ever noticed how odd some memories can be? Well, not the memories themselves, exactly, but the fact that you remember them. I mean, I can remember this one guy, we only had like 5 or 6 dates, but I remember him more clearly than the guy I dated for 5 yrs just before and throughout high school. The 5 or 6 date guy was named Bryan. Bryan took me to see George Carlin live at the O'Connell Center in Gainesville, FL for our first date with a couple of his buddies. He kissed me in my car right after that show. On a later date, he took me to Outback for dinner and proceeded to tip our waiter $16 because he was so focused on me and getting me alone. Yet I can't for the life of me remember exactly how I met the guy I dated for 5 yrs.

I suddenly thought of an old friend from high school the other day. His name was Dylan. I don't even know why I thought of him, his name just suddenly popped into my head one day, and I started wondering how he is doing these days. I've thought about looking him up, but...I don't know. We always had this kind of rocky friendship/half-relationship kind of thing going on, and I don't know that I'd want to rekindle something that unstable at this point in my life. It's been 11 or 12 yrs since I saw him, I know he's changed, but I've found through experience that relationships like that tend to keep the same characteristics no matter how many years pass. Maybe I will look him up, just for the hell of it. Maybe he has a MySpace page or something where I can see what he looks like these days. I recall him being pretty hot, but that's the other funny thing about memories...they tend to dull the sharp edges and make things seem better than they really were. I had another old...friend, and I happened to come across a recent picture of him the other day....the only thing I could think was, what the hell was I thinking? I was in love with that guy, and it's become real clear now that it WASN'T based on his looks. In total honesty, I do remember why I was in love with him, and they were reasons that I am sure still reside behind the oddly unattractive-to-me-now facade, but it was just very weird to have that awakening to him. It was as though all those years of friendship and...other stuff, I was moving around with my eyes closed and never saw him, only heard his voice and felt his touch. Now I've seen him, and it's kind of a shock. I don't know...like I said, weird.

On other things, have you ever looked at where your confidence comes from? I started thinking about this the other day. I'm not sure why (I have a very boring job that allows lots of time to think of the oddest things). I remember, before I had my sons, before I got married, before all this crap that became my life happened, I used to date. A lot. Had tons of boyfriends, a date pretty much every Friday and Saturday night, and occasionally during the week too. My confidence was through the roof. I knew that pretty much all I had to do was crook my little red or pink nail painted finger and I'd have 1 or even 2 guys tripping over themselves to get the door for me. And no, I'm not being overly cocky. That really was my situation.

Now I have 2 kids, I'm overweight and out of shape from having them (but I am working on that), and I don't date. No time. Yet, my confidence level is even higher than before. It no longer comes from my ability to get a man, which I now realize was a pretty shallow and stupid reason to feel such confidence. My confidence these days comes from who I am. I am a single mother. I support my children with no help whatsoever from their father. I am sole financial, physical, and emotional support for my children. My children eat a healthy meal each and every night, because of me. They take a bath and get clean, and go to bed on time, because of me. My confidence now stems from the knowledge that I am taking care of my kids, without anyone's help, and that I'm doing a damn good job of it. My ex-husband once told me when I told him I wanted a divorce that I could never make it without him. I laughed in his face when he said that, but deep down, I wasn't so sure. Although I'd been ready to raise my son by myself if his father hadn't stuck around, now I was a stay at home mom. Could I really take care of him, and the child I was currently carrying, alone? Could I make it without him?

I took that chance anyway, and hoped for the best. And now, everytime I take him to court to be held in contempt for his failure (read that:refusal) to pay child support, I look him in the eye with my chin held high, knowing that I have proven his attempted prophecy wrong. I am making it without him, quite literally. I am taking care of my family, entirely on my own. And yes, it is stressful. It's hard, and it's exhausting, and there are times I feel ready to throw in the towel and cry defeat. But, I don't. I push through and I keep going, because there's nothing else to do BUT keep going. And that is where my confidence comes from now. And that confidence is what helps me push through the day when I'm having a bad day at work, and hating my job, wishing I could quit. It what keeps me from giving up when I can't get my son to understand his homework from the way I explain it to him, and gets me to explain it to him just one more time, in a slightly different way, until it clicks.

Where does your confidence come from?

Stupidity and the inability to shut up can be such a beautiful thing

Dear You,

You know, after the last time, I thought you'd learn. And you did. Just not what I thought you'd learn. You've had chance after chance to change, to grow, to learn and to do what's right. Yet still, you persist in continuing on in the same way as before. Is this lack of ability or lack of concern?

I never thought you'd come over and talk to me before we went in. Of course, it shouldn't have surprised me. You're a coward, one that would never have the courage to talk to me if I was standing with friends or family. But because I was standing alone, you gathered up your meager store of courage and approached me. Your reason was that you wanted to know how our children were doing. As I told you they are fine. Not, of course, because of anything you do. Let's be honest here, you do nothing for them. That's why I made you repeat yourself more than once. I couldn't believe you were asking how my children were doing. Yes, I said my children. I do everything, you do nothing, I see no point to giving you any credit whatsoever.

And this is why I pity you even as you anger me, and even as I despise you. You do nothing for them. You have no idea what it is to lie awake each night, thinking and planning how you are going to ensure your children get 3 meals a day though you only have enough money for 2. You don't know how hard it is to watch your child struggle with homework, so desperate to give them the answer, but knowing you must bite your tongue because they'll never learn it if you give them all the answers. You don't know the physical pain of holding back your own tears after your child has misbehaved and you have to take away a much-anticipated sleepover at their grandparents and he stands before you, tears streaming down his face, nose running as he begs you to please change your mind and you tell him once more, no. You don't know how much those things claw at your soul, shredding it inside you!

You've never had to tell him you can't buy him a balloon animal that costs 50 cents, because you just don't have a measly half dollar to spare. You've never had to stay up late to figure out yet another way to make rice or potatoes because you can't afford anything else. You've never borrowed your parents' credit card to buy Christmas presents for the kids because if you didn't, they wouldn't have Christmas unless they starved for the entire month of December.

You don't worry every time you need time off from work that you might come back to find you have no job. You don't plan the ways you'll beg your boss not to fire you before you even tell her you need the time off. But then, that's not a surprise, because you don't want to work, so you probably wouldn't care if they did fire you.

But you know what, that's all okay. Really, it's fine.

Because while you don't do all that, you also don't tuck them into bed each night, smelling the watermelon soap and raspberry shampoo they used at bathtime. You don't kiss their sweet little boy cheeks, and hear their precious little voices say, "I love you" as they also wish you sweet dreams. You don't get the cuddles when they are sick or have a bad dream. You don't get to laugh at all their silly little stories and ideas. You don't get the sheer, uncomparable joy of seeing their amazement when Santa brings them exactly what they want on Christmas, or seeing them look at you like you're some kind of hero, when you fix their favorite toy for the fifth time this month. You don't get the rush of love that comes when you see them come running to you at the end of the work day, so thrilled to see you because they missed you so much while you were gone and they were with the sitter.

You don't get to feel the intense pride I feel when they behave well, or do well in school on an assignment. You don't get to brag about them to anyone who will listen the way I do. You don't get to take any credit whatsoever for the wonderful, good people they will turn out to be someday. That's all mine.

You are missing out on all the special moments in thier lives. You won't have any wonderful, precious, cherished memories to keep you warm when you grow older. You won't have the love and respect of these two precious people who still trust so easily and love so much. You won't have a relationship with them, because you don't have one with them now, and don't want one. And that, You, is precisely why I pity you.

I hate you because you've put me in the position of being a single mother. You've left me to be mother and father to them, to worry and worry constantly about how we'll survive, because you won't contribute to their support. Which is why you're in a small jail cell right now.

But I pity you for all you are missing out on. Things that you don't know and don't care about right now, but when you are old and alone because you've driven everyone away with your selfishness and lazy irresponsibility, you'll care then. You'll look back on these wasted years and you'll taste bitter regret on your tongue.

But so as not to drive the stake in too deeply, let me say it now: I told you so.

Sincerely,
Me



The ex and I were in court this week. He's still not paying, so I moved to have him held in contempt yet again. Sure enough, this time he got 60 days in the county lockup. It's really pretty sad, though. He's got a complete lack of ability to realize how easily he could solve this problem. He comes into court, no job, no money, and seems to think that boyish charm, or in this case, flat rudeness, will get him out of trouble. He admits to the judge that he does absolutely nothing all day, gets caught in more than one lie, and actually has the balls to get an attitude with the judge. As the title says, stupidity and the inability to shut up can be such a beautiful thing sometimes.

But, I do pity him. Not only for the things he's missing out on with my kids. Even before the judge ordered that he be incarcerated, he knew it would happen. He began getting his things together, taking off jewelry and belts and such that he can't have in jail, and asking the bailiffs to give it to his father outside. He knew how to hold his hands for the cuffs, he's gone through this so many times. I pity him for that. I find it so sad that someone I once loved and saw a forever future with has come to this. He knows arrest procedure and incarceration as well as the police officers do, and that is a shame. He's one of those people who has amazing book smarts when he applies himself, but not much common sense, and way too much self-indulgence and laziness for any one person to have.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not getting soft and wanting to go easy on him. That won't happen. My children are entitled to that child support. And since they are unable to fight for themselves, I will fight for them, and I will not stop. I just find it so pathetic that someone who could do good things if he wanted to, just doesn't. He's selfish and arrogant, and if it doesn't do something for him, he doesn't want to do it. How nice it would be if we could all be that way. Ha!

60 days in the county jail. I doubt it will make much of a difference in him. But, I do hope that on Christmas Day, when he gets his meal of whatever they give them in jail (and we all know it's not as nice as what we get at home), that he looks at that meal, and looks around himself at the bare, cold walls and bars of his cell, and at the other inmates around him, and realizes that this doesn't have to be his life. I hope that he realizes what it means to be a man, and lives up to that. I hope that other inmates might come to that same realization as well.

And if he doesn't realize it, then I'm just glad he incriminates himself every time we go to court. Makes my job so much easier.

Being My Whole Self

I watched a movie that I recorded from Lifetime tonight. It was called More of Me, starring Molly Shannon as a mother of twins who wishes there was more of her to go around to her career, twin children, and husband. In classic TV fairy tale fashion, her wish comes true, and out of a 3-panel mirror comes one of her to be the mother, one to be the career woman, and one to be a sex kitten to the hubby. Each of the alter egos end up spinning out of control, and going to extremes in their particular area. By the end of the movie, she realizes that she needs to be "my whole self" in order to be the best person she can be.

The movie was, I think, intended to be a comedy. It certainly was funny. But, it made me think. As a single mother, although all mothers do feel it, I often find myself wishing things were different. When I'm at work, I feel guilty and want to be home taking care of my children. When I'm home with my children b/c they're sick or something, I feel like I'm letting my employer down. And at least twice a day, once at work and once with the kids, I wish for some "me time". I feel as though nothing and no one gets as much of me as they deserve, or need. When I take time for myself, even something as simple as a bubble bath after the kids are in bed and sound asleep, I feel as though something somewhere is being neglected. I'll sit in bubbles up to my neck and think about how I should be in bed, resting for the early morning ahead of me.

But as I watched this movie, I realized that even though I feel as though I'm letting everyone down, I'm not. I need these different parts of myself in order to be what everyone needs. I wouldn't be a good mother if I never had any experiences outside my home and my children. How can they learn anything from me if I have nothing to teach them? And without work, and a little quiet time, I wouldn't appreciate my children as much as I do.

We often focus so much on what we aren't doing for others, what we don't have for them, what we can't do, can't find, can't say. We think more about our perceived failures than our true triumphs. I'm not one of those perky, dimpled smile people that drives everyone nuts with their upbeat attitudes. But I do think that the power of positive thinking has some merit to it. Maybe instead of focusing on what we don't/can't do for our kids, spouse, employer, friend, family member, neighbor, etc., we should focus on what we already do for them.

And there's something else that I had pointed out to me today:

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator, and I immediately wanted to paint another one.
When you thought I wasn't looking , I saw you feed a stray cat, and I learned that it was good to be kind to animals.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite cake for me and I learned that the little things can be the special things in life.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I heard you say a prayer, and I knew there is a God I could always talk to and I learned to trust in God.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make a meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I learned that we all have to help take care of each other.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of your time and money to help people who had nothing and I learned that those who have something should give to those who don't. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you take care of our house and everyone in it and I learned we have to take care of what we are given.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw how you handled your responsibilities, even when you didn't feel good and I learned that I would have to be responsible when I grow up.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your eyes and I learned that sometimes things hurt, but it's all right to cry.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared and I wanted to be everything that I could be.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I learned most of life's lessons that I need to know to be a good and productive person when I grow up.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked at you and wanted to say, 'Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking.'

That was sent to me in an e-mail at work. And although you can tell it's meant to be a reminder that children are watching, I think it's something to keep in mind for everyone. I think we all do things that we don't think other people notice, but they do. More than that though, I think we do things for others that we don't realize matter so much to them. A simple thank you for a job well done seems like nothing to us, but the person we're thanking might take that thank you as so much more b/c they're having a bad day, or week, or month.

With those thoughts in mind, and bedtime looming near, I think I'm off to do some guilt-free yoga. And tonight my mantra will be "I can't be what everyone needs unless I am my whole self".

Knowledge? Or just a big mouth with a direct line to a little brain?

When I was growing up, I couldn't wait to escape the tiny town I lived in. It was unbearably boring, with nothing to do and no one to hang out with. That was not offensive to my friends, because they felt the same as I did. Our parents were too controlling, shackling us with tons of rules and curfews, which as adults now, we realize were actually tender chains of love, not shackles.

Time passed, and eventually, I did grow up, and I did move away. I moved away, had my fun, and now, ten years later, I'm back, raising my two children here so that they can hate it as I did, only to later realize how nice it actually is.

I'm sure you're familiar with the name Wesley Snipes? Yes, honey, I am from the Ocala area. You know, that area where you just can't turn around without seein' a cross-burnin' or a lynchin'. I mean, goodness gracious, we're just so damn racist around here, we can't stand it. ***typed with a honey-thick Southern drawl***

Ok, I'm done with the sarcasm. Seriously, this whole situation is ridiculous. I mean, the fact that he's pulling the race card on charges of tax evasion...really. It's pretty simple math...you owe taxes, if you don't pay them...hmmm, yeah you'll get charged with tax evasion.

But it's not just his claim. It's the fact that everyone who wants to agree with him, and say that this area is a "hotbed of Klan activity"...has never been here! Or if they have, they were driving through on their way to somewhere else! So, how, exactly did they discover all this Klan activity?

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying there aren't any racist people around here. There are. Just like there are in every other city, in every county, in every state. Racist people are everywhere. And they're wrong. Period.

With that said, this area, while it definitely does have it's share of rednecks, is not any better or any worse than any other area of the country. The thing I find most offensive, though, is that all the people who are saying how bad this area is, are people who've never been here or who've only passed through very briefly. That would be like me saying that Miami is full of Cuban voodoo. I hear all the time that there's tons of Cuban people down there. True? I don't know. I've never been there. Do they all do voodoo? I don't know. I've never been there, never met them. I'm sure there may be some, but that doesn't make it full of it. And I can't say either way, because, again: I've never been there. I would never presume to make a declarative opinion about something like that without having actually been to the place, living there, and making an effort to find out.

So, I'm left to wonder why people feel the need to spout opinions based on nothing more than air and call them fact. You can't call it knowledge when there is no knowledge behind it. So, the only thing I'm left with is that their mouth is bigger than their brain, and and so whatever few things filter down from the tiny mind flow out of the big mouth like water in a thunderstorm from a dry rain spout: unstoppable.

Role Models? Maybe not.

Have you noticed how we seem to hold "celebrities" to a higher moral standard than we do most "average" people? Let me put a disclaimer here: I am not condoning the actions of any celebrity, nor am I excusing, or justifying them either.

Dog the Bounty Hunter was just yanked off the A&E schedule for his use of the N-word. Now, again, not condoning, excusing, or justifying. With that said, here's how I see it: He was just fired for something he did in what he thought was privacy. His use of that word was wrong, pure and simple, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He should not have used it; no one said. I agree with most people, though, who say that if people really want that word to go away, the rappers need to stop using it, and so do every day black people. But, back to my point. He was saying something to his son in what he thought was going to be a private message. Since when do we get fired for things we do at home? How many of us would be fired tomorrow if our boss found out what we said about him/her at home? And really, we've all had that really bad day when we came home and told our spouse, child, friend, neighbor, whoever, what a jerk the boss was.

Now, I'm not saying that he didn't deserve some kind of repercussion. This got out, and as a public figure, yes he does have some responsibility to set an example. I think anyone in a position of that type has an obligation to set an example, and to try to do good with their status. But, at the same time, they're entitled to make mistakes, just like the rest of us. And yet, when they do, we act shocked and amazed, as if we thought that they just couldn't do that.

Let's be honest here: If this was your best friend, your spouse, your sister/brother/mom/dad, neighbor, co-worker, whoever, and they'd made this comment in their home, and it got out, you'd be up in arms, angry and outraged that they were being fired for something they did in their home. And yet, when it's a celebrity, we demand they be fired, lose everything they've ever had. Is it a case of wanting to punish the accused, or is it a case of being jealous and wanting to bring them down to our status?

Now, don't get me wrong: I've never been a fan of Dog. I only watched his show because I think his son, Leland, is hot. I've always felt that Dog seemed a bit...hypocritical, doing his little prayer circle before hunting, and then calling the bounties all kinds of names. And I realize that we're dealing with the criminal element here. He's not the mailman delivering the phone bill. He's a bounty hunter, hunting down lowlifes who've broken the law, and then chosen to run/hide when it comes time to face the judge. Yeah, calling them names is expected, and hell, I say appropriate. But it seems hypocritical to me to stand around and pray first. You're a Christian, fine. You believe, great. But something about that whole scenario just seems weird.

Anyway, my point was to say, why do we hold celebrities to such a higher standard? Is it because they really should be? Should we really expect them to be so much better than us morally? And if we should, why? Why shouldn't we expect ourselves to be better? As I said, I believe that they are in a position to set an example, yes. But, with that said, I prefer my children's role models to be someone a bit more...down to earth. Celebrities have plenty of money at their disposal to do anything they want, buy what they want, and change whatever they want about their lives. Us regular people don't have that luxury. We go to work everyday at jobs we despise, working for and with people we don't like, who annoy or anger us, and come home to clean the house, cook dinner, help with homework, and repeat ourselves five times before we're heard when we say it's bedtime. I'd rather my children learn from that than from the celebrity who can crack up a car in a high speed car chase, blame it on the drugs and go to rehab, or spend ninety minutes in jail.

That's not to say we can't admire celebrities. In a previous post, I've named some of the ones I look up to: Queen Latifah, Melissa Etheridge, Reba, and I've recently found Jenny McCarthy to be another. But the people I've looked up to the most, my entire life, have been my parents, my grandparents, and other people like them.

I think we need to change the way we look at things. I think we need to expect good from celebrities, but not demand a public beheading when they screw up. I think we need to encourage our children to look to us for their role models and their ideas of how real men and women should act. We need to take control of our lives and the future of society instead of letting it rest in the hands of celebrities who are just as human as we are and make the same mistakes that we do.

Second disclaimer: Britney Spears, Nicole Ritchey, Paris Hilton, Lindsey Lohan, and company are not included in this blog. They are just plain out of control and should be locked away somewhere until they get it together.

What's Important?

Last night was Halloween, of course. I took my children trick-or-treating at a walking-distance business that was having a haunted house/party for the kids in town. They were dressed up as Frankenstein, and absolutely adorable. I went as a vampire victim. LOL

They had a great time, as did I. My parents went with us, and we saw a lot of friends. One of whom was the business partner/best friend of the friend who died over the weekend. It was good to see him there. It was the first time I'd seen him since the death, and so I went to give him a hug and let him know I was there for him. He hugged me tight and I could hear the tears in his voice as he spoke in my ear. This is not a man who cries easily. I brought my boys home, and by the time we got washed up and into bed, it was ten o'clock. They weren't asleep until eleven.

I was frustrated, because I wanted to shower and get to bed myself. I was verging on angry, because I was just so damn tired, and I'd had a long day that I wanted to be over. Just when I was ready to lose my temper, I heard the echo of my friends tear-choked voice in my ear. And I realized that life is too short to be upset over a little lost sleep. I reminded myself that I should just be grateful that my children are here to keep me awake. That extra hour of sleep really isn't that important when you think that you could lose your child, your parent, significant other, friend, in just the span of time it takes to have the thought that you want to get mad at them. And would you really want them to die with you being angry at them? I know I wouldn't.

With that said, there is someone that I am mad at, and pretty much always am. And it ties in with the theme of what's important, because I cannot fathom this. My former husband owes me several thousand dollars in child support, because he hasn't paid in a couple of years. I've taken him to court twice to have him held in contempt for this, and he's been to jail once for it. He's a convicted felon on probation, which means this could, feasibly, send him to prison, under the right circumstances. I've filed papers to take him in again. This will be contempt #3. Now, there's more than one reason I can't understand him. The most obvious is: self-preservation. Most people would pay the support to keep themselves out of trouble, if for no other reason. Yet he seems to not care about that, or he's too stupid to realize how much trouble this could be. Which is entirely possible, because he's one of those people who couldn't dump water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. But, let's set aside self-preservation. How could you help concieve two children, profess to love them, to want them, and then just completely and totally turn your back on them in every possible way? How could you walk away from your own flesh and blood without a single glance back, without a twinge of guilt, and not feel the slightest remorse, guilt, regret, doubt, concern, SOMETHING?! The thought of walking away from my children is something I would do about as soon as I would grab a butcher knife and cut my own heart out of my chest. I do not understand how someone can do that.

My oldest asks me sometimes why his father doesn't come see him. I don't want to lie to him, but I also don't want to build his father up to him. So, I say the only thing I can, walking that fine line between truth and deceit: I say his father has problems he has to work out. Which isn't really a lie, I suppose, because not loving your child is a problem in my book. But I feel bad telling my son that, because I feel as though I'm holding something back from him. And I don't like to be anything less than honest with him, not only because honesty is a value I hold as important, but also because considering how much his father lies, I feel as though I'm doing my son a disservice.

This is where the title of my post tonight comes into play. What is important to you? After the recent death, and seeing my friend last night, I've really been thinking about this today. What's really important to me? I've always known my kids were important to me, that they come first, but today I've realized just how important they are to me. I've realized that making sure they are healthy, cared for, and have the values, morals, education, and abilities required to take care of themselves as they grow are important. So, tonight, instead of making dinner while I help with homework, like I usually do, I sat down with my son and focused on helping him.

I've also realized that I need to stop worrying so much about my weight. I've been overweight since having my children, and I constantly diet to try to lose the weight, and worry about what people think, and wish I had the figure I had before I had kids. I've decided I can't do that anymore. I have to accept that I am who I am, and that I am beautiful just like I am. Instead of worrying about what I can eat that won't make me gain ten pounds, or when I will find time today to work out, I'm going to enjoy my time with my kids, or reading, or whatever I'm doing. I'm going to focus on the moment, like yoga teaches.

I do yoga and meditate daily. I'm going to start using my meditation to focus on what's really important in life.

Oh, and just to lighten the post up a bit....my kids aren't scared of anything. LOL They didn't get scared of anything in the haunted house, although Mommy and Granny got scared a couple of times. There's another haunted house in the neighbor hood that will be open on Saturday, cause she only does it on weekends. We'll see if they get scared there or not. :)

Those left behind

Sometimes you come across a book that touches you and really makes you think instead of just entertaining you briefly. I just re-read such a book. The Snow Garden by Christopher Rice is a book....well, I'm going to give you my summary since the book has none that I've ever found. It's a book about a group of college students, all of whom have a tragic past that they are trying to escape, by creating themselves anew, some more than others. Randall Stone, who is running from the fact that he (possibly unintentionally) killed his entire town, is the most successful at doing so, although all of them, and even a professor, are all moderately successful at this task. The book follows them from when they start at the college, backtracking into their pasts to give you the story of why they are so desperate to escape who they are. It's a really good book.

As I read it, and after I finished it late this afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder, how many of us would really like to do this ourselves. I mean, I'll be the first to admit there are some things I'd like to outrun, change, erase, or whatever I could do to eliminate them from my history. But, given the actual opportunity, the chance, to really do it, would I? When I sit here right now, with it not being a true possibility, I can say yes, I would. But I also know that that's not a realistic answer, because I know I can't do it, so it's easy to say I would.

But, the weirdest thing about all this is that as I'm having these thoughts, I get a phone call. Someone that I've been acquainted with, and who's been a friend of my family for years, shot his girlfriend in the face and then killed himself last night. Her young son discovered her lying on the couch, injured but alive, and found his body. It seems so strange to have finished this book and now am trying to accept that someone I knew could do something like this. There is no explanation at this point for why he did it, although there will never be one to satisfy those left behind. What reason can you give for attempting to kill someone you love, and then killing yourself? What can you say that will ease the suffering and the grief that those who are left to pick up the pieces and carry on? As far as I've ever known, there is nothing.

But, at the same time, I'm also reminded of Stephen King's Lisey's Story, which is, to quote Nora Roberts, at its core, a love story. This book shows you the strange and twisted ways that people will sometimes show their love. We always think that people who abuse their children, kill their spouses, or kill themselves, obviously don't love those people. And while it will never make such tragedies right or acceptable, it does make you take a step back and think, "Wait a minute. What s/he did wasn't right. And obviously there was something wrong there. But maybe I shouldn't be so quick to say s/he didn't love them."

I say that because I know that in no time, there are going to be people who are going to say that he must not have loved her, or that he hated her, or what have you. And you know what, maybe they will be right. But, maybe, just maybe, they're not. Maybe he did love her. Maybe the problem did not lie in his feelings for her, but his feelings for himself, or some other situation. That doesn't make it right.

I'm not condoning what he did. I'm not saying he's right, or that what he did was acceptable, okay, or even understandable. I don't understand it. To be honest, I don't know that I want to understand it. That might require going somewhere in my mind that I don't want to go, somewhere where insanity and depravation lives in all of us. But what I am saying is that we should not judge him, should not be judge and jury in the trial of his life. Obviously, he made a mistake, and it's not one he can ever atone for or make right now. So maybe we should cut him some slack, and instead of passing judgment, think of those he left behind. Those, like the girlfriend he shot, who now has to forever wonder why he did this. Or her son, who will forever wake up from nightmares in which he continues to find his mother's bloody form on their couch. Or his best friend and business partner, who doesn't understand any of it, and just wants his best friend alive and well again. None of them want to hear anyone say how horrible a person he was, or how he didn't love whoever, or deserved what he got or any of the other millions of stupid, petty, judgmental comments we all make when we see these situations on the news and in the paper. Yes, I've done it too. But now that the news story exists outside the TV and the paper for me, I realize how wrong we all are to do that.

His friends and family will grieve for him. We will, because regardless of his reasons, he was a living man and he deserves to have someone grieve for him. But we will also grieve for the ones he left behind, the ones he left to try to pick up shattered pieces of life and try to glue them back together into some resemblance of what they used to be, even though it will never be the same. That gaping hole that was him will never be filled, and life will never be the same.

Regret? Or just wishful thinking?

When I was 17, I worked as a cashier in a grocery store. I loved that job; and I was so good at it, too. Not that I'm not good at the much more complicated jobs I've had since then; it was just something to really be proud of at that time. But, that's not my point.

While working at this grocery store, I met a much older man. He was 24. He was sexy, funny, sweet, everything a girl could possibly look for in a man. But, of course, being 17, I was too stupid to realize the good thing I had, and so for the next few years, we had a yo-yo relationship: up and down, on and off, him waiting patiently for me to grow up, me wanting something more exciting, dramatic.

Well, end of that story is that I made a huge mistake, although in some ways I don't regret it. I met my ex-husband and got pregnant with my oldest child. The result was, well, of course, my child, but that I married my former jerk-I mean, spouse. I was adult enough to call and try to tell my wonderful guy how stupid I was and what I was doing. After that, I never spoke to him again.

I don't blame him for hating me, despising me, or anything else he may, and probably does, feel for me.

Here's my thing though: There's a lot of nights, I lie awake, wondering where he is, what he's doing, and if there were any possibility he might still love me, and if I found him, maybe we could have a chance.

Which is why I now wonder: Do I truly regret what happened, truly still love him and want another chance with him, or is it the wishful thinking of youth gone by? Is it what I really want, or do I only think I want it because it's not an option? I've looked for him, used every resource I can find that doesn't cost (because as a single mother, I can't afford it!), all to no avail. Which is another reason why I wonder. I mean, if I could have just dialed his number, and had him on the phone, would I still have this longing for him? Or is this a matter of wanting what I can't have?

I'd like to think it's real. I do think it's real. This was a man who meant a lot to me, even though I wouldn't admit it at first. My ex-husband was a mistake, and had I not met him and gotten pregnant, I believe this other guy and I would still be together, with a family of our own. Don't get me wrong: I'm not saying I want to go back and change things. In one sense, I would, because I would still have the other guy. But mostly, I have to say, as much as I regret the end of the relationship, I'd still do it, because it gave me my children. My children are my life, my world, my center. I can't say I would change or regret the situation that resulted in thier births.

I don't mean to sound mopey and depressed. It's just something that I think of quite frequently. I'm sure other people do something similar. I just wonder....are we all regretting what truly could have been, or are we regretting what we've convinced oureslves would have been?

Ever notice how much life sucks?

Yeah, I know. Real blunt. I'm feeling blunt tonight. See, here's the thing. I'm trying real hard to be optimistic and upbeat and all that crap, but it ain't workin' so well.

My youngest child turned 4 last week. Not a bad thing, per se. But, as happy an occasion as it is, it's also slightly depressing for the mother. The sudden and yet not so sudden realization that my baby is growing up is not a fun one to come to. I look at my child, and see how different from the baby that was he is now, and although it's wonderful in some aspects, it's also saddening in some. I see hints of the man he will be one day, side by side with leftover tidbits of that chubby little baby I brought home from the hospital. The two different life periods intertwined make for a very bittersweet moment in time. This, in itself, is not the reason for my bad mood, though.

My great-grandmother is still alive at the age of 97. She's the only great grandmother I have left, along with one set of grandparents. I feel very fortunate to be 28 years old and still be able to say that I have grandparents, and a great-grandmother that are still alive. This gratitude is being rapidly worn away, however. My great-grandmother suffers from dementia and is now in a nursing home. This alone is depressing. She doesn't want to be there. She cries and begs for various family members to take her home when they visit. This is heartbreaking, even if you don't witness it first hand.

That's not the worst part. At 97, she's now been diagnosed with breast cancer. It started with a lump the size of a dime, and within 3 months was the size of a lime. They will not do anything to treat it. Logically, the 28 year old part of me, my mind, understands this. At her age, she might not survive the surgery, or might and then not survive chemo, or might survive all of it only to be pronounced in remission and die of old age the next day.

But my heart, that little girl inside of me, doesn't understand any of this at all. Why won't they try to save her? Why won't they do something, anything, to help her? Why did this happen at all? She's 97! Isn't it enough that she would die soon anyway? Plus she has dementia. She's already lost to us in mind, living in some world in her head, built by her own design, populated with her own little family and friends. Is it really necessary to force her to live in pain and agony for her last days?

I realize some of what I'm saying sounds like I'm being selfish and not wanting my great-grandma to die. That's not the case. I've long ago made peace with the fact that she will die, as will my grandparents, parents, even myself and my children, someday. This abstract concept is not a problem for me. The reality of my great-grandma's more imminent death is a little harder to accept, but I've made great progress in the acceptance of this. It's the way she will go that bothers me.

I don't want her to die a painful death. It just doesn't seem right. Almost a hundred years on this planet, giving birth to several children, seeing the births of many grandchildren, and even more great-grandchildren, seeing the world go from outhouses, no indoor plumbing, no phone, not being able to afford electricity, no cars, to a world full of CDs, DVDs, hybrid cars, MP3 players. She's lived through wars taking place on foriegn soil, and watched as terrorists attacked on our own soil. She's watched the world change from mothers staying at home with their children while the men worked, to single mothers having children, occasionally without a father. She's lived so long, seen so much, and it just doesn't seem right that her death should be one filled with pain. She should be able to die with dignity, in a way that is calm, peaceful, and uneventful. Is that really so much to ask?

People will tell you that things happen for a reason. No matter their faith, no matter yours, they all say that. I just don't see the reason for this. What possible reason could be served by giving a 97 year old woman a painful illness that, at her age, is incurable, and forcing her to live out her last days either in pain or in a drug-induced, but pain-free, haze. Neither one seems to be the option I'd want if I were her.

I've mostly come to terms with her death. I know one day, my phone will ring, and it will be my mother or father to tell me she's gone. And when that happens, I will cry. I will feel that ache deep inside that tells me that she's no longer here, and I will find the way to sit down with my children and find the words to tell them of her passing. Whether or not they will understand is another story, especially considering that I don't much understand myself.

So, I repeat my question: Ever notice how much life sucks?

Innocence of an early Fall Day

My babysitter had a situation to deal with today that required her to close, therefore I had to stay at home with my 3 yr old. We left the house this am around 6:45 to drop my 6 yr old at school and then came back home. By 7:30am it was raining. Then it stopped, rained again around 10ish, and then cleared up. We hung out inside, though, cause it was just easier. At 1, we left to get my oldest. I have an attached garage, so I don't actually go outside until I step out of my car at my destination. Or, in a case like today, until I roll the window down at the mailbox.

When I pulled up at the mailbox in front of the house and put the window down, the first thing to hit me was the temperature: It was beautiful. Comfortable, warm but not hot, cool but not cold, just that perfect temperature that makes you wish for this moment to last forever.

The next thing to hit me was the smell. You know that smell you smell when fall is just beginning? It's that indescribable scent that you just associate with fall: crisp, good, cleansing. It's not one you can explain with words like "salty" "spicy" or anything like that. It's just that smell that seems to float it's way into your nose, clearing out pollution, allergies, stress, all of it. It seems almost to slide into your brain, massaging the tension of life away, for that one moment anyway. It's also a fleeting scent. You only smell it that one time, at the beginning of fall. Tomorrow, well tomorrow it's supposed to rain, but if it weren't, the smell still wouldn't be the same. That first time you smell it, you have to breathe deep, take it all in, savor it, enjoy it, revel in it, because the next time you try to find it, it will be gone.

It was so wonderful I took my kids out into the backyard after we got back from school. Homework was left on the table for later, dinner put in the freezer to be cooked whenever we got to it, and the phone left where it was. No one needed to interrupt my precious time with my babies. So, we went out back, laid on the ground, and found shapes in the clouds. I haven't done that in so many years...I don't even remember when the last time was. Just like riding a bike, it all came back instantly. I saw a sheep, a girl on a unicorn, a duck, a dog, and when my oldest saw a crocodile, it took me only a split second to see through his eyes and see it, too. At one moment, even with my sunglasses on, I found my thoughts turning to complaints about the sun being too bright. I mentally slapped the thought away. Children don't complain about that. They simply squint and enjoy the moment; so that is what I did. I'll have crow's feet for it; who cares? I got to be a kid again for just a few moments, and it was wonderful.

Tomorrow morning, the alarm will go off at 5:30, that ungodly hour of the day when it is still dark and quiet and I'm starting my day with dressing, making lunches, and deciding how to wear my hair for yet another day at a job I'm growing to dislike more and more by the day. At that time, the stress, worry, tension, responsibility, and aggravation of adulthood will rush back in. And at that time, I will welcome them with open arms, as they are my life now. But for this afternoon, for tonight, I'm simply a girl. I may be 28, but that doesn't mean I can't still be a girl every now and then. Yes, I helped with homework, cooked dinner and loaded the dishwasher. But you know what? None of that pushed me back up the ladder to adulthood. It probably would have if I'd let it; I didn't. Like I said, tomorrow morning is soon enough. Right now, as I sit here with my fingers flying over the keyboard as they have since high school, I am nothing more than a girl. Old sitcoms on TV, 80's music on the stereo, a good book at my side, it all combines to make me feel as though I've gone back to that simpler time. That time when bills and grocery shopping were someone else's responsibility, and all I had to do was eat, sleep, do homework, and hang out with my friends.

Friendships are harder to maintain now. Grocery shopping and bill paying take up the time that used to be spent with friends. Homework has been replaced with real work, although homework still comes into play when your little one struggles, or when you want to be sure they understand how important education is. Eating and sleeping become things to schedule instead of things to enjoy, and even those things you enjoy so much tend to feel like chores because you have to plan and plot to make time for them, much as you would plan doing the laundry or plot who will do the vacuuming today.

Even with all the responsibilty, the chores, the bills, and everything else; I think we all need to take some time every now and then to lay down in the back yard and see the shapes in the clouds. To smell that sweet, here-and-then-gone scent of fall in the air. To feel the balm of smooth temperatures flow like tender fingertips across your skin. Squint into the sun without complaint; you can buy some Olay later to cure the wrinkles. Laugh with your children. They'll be thrilled; and so will you, if you just let yourself. Don't let Life stop you from enjoying your life.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T....what does it really mean?

OK, once again, no poem tonight. Tonight I'm blogging about respect. This is a two-fold thing. Part of it has to do with celebrities and part to do with just regular people.

Am I the only one who's noticed lately the slew of celebrities getting arrested and/or just plain attention for doing the stupidest, most idiotic things? Nicole Richie, Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Britney and all her problems, and now, even Keifer Sutherland has been arrested for a DUI! I used to think he was one of the celebrities you could look to as a role model but no more.

See, here's my thinking: A celebrity should be more than a face in a movie. They should be role models, someone to look up to, to want to be like. Not necessarily the whole famous, tons of money thing, but to be like them in terms of personality and good deeds. They just aren't that anymore.

There are about 5 people that are celebrities that I can think of right now that I admire and respect. Yes, I said respect. I have no respect for most celebrities today; I may like their acting/singing/writing etc, but I don't respect them because they just don't seem worthy. Let me tell you the people I do respect and why:

1. Melissa Etheridge: Yes, because she's a lesbian, and no, not because she's a lesbian. Let's be honest here; most people today feel the need to conform, to hide who they are, what they are, for fear that people won't like them, won't buy their movies/music/books, hire them, etc. Melissa doesn't do that. She also doesn't feel the need to crow from the rooftops about who/what she is. She simply is. Period. She's a happily married lesbian, with a beautiful wife and children, all of whom she loves, and she simply is. She's honest about it, but doesn't need to shove it down your throat. When she had breast cancer, she was honest and open, and showed the world just how tough she really was. I admire someone like that. Someone who can be who she is, without feeling shame, anger, or the need to be in your face all the time. She has a "Take me or leave me" attitude; either you like her for who she is, or you don't, and she doesn't much care either way. She's as human as anyone else, so I'm sure when someone makes disparaging remarks about her or her wife, it hurts her. But that doesn't make her run out and proclaim she's not who she is, or that she's being treated differently because of who she is. She simply moves on with her life and doesn't let it get her down.

2. Queen Latifah: This woman is another like Melissa Etheridge; she is who she is and you either accept her or you don't. She's a full figured woman, but you don't see reports of her starving herself, binging, or being on the newest crazy diet. She has accepted that she is larger, and made it work for her. This is the biggest part of it for me. I have had 2 children, and my body shows it. I am out of shape and overweight, but seeing someone like Queen Latifah helps me feel better about myself. It reminds me that we are all beautiful. She also doesn't get herself into trouble all the time. You look at some of these other celebs, and they're out drinking, and drugging, sleeping with whoever or whatever. She doesn't do that. Her love life is discreet, if she drinks or does drugs, it's behind closed doors. She sets a good example publicly. This is the kind of woman I want to be like.

3. Camryn Manheim: Same thing as Queen Latifah. She's a bigger woman who's comfortable with herself. You don't see her dieting, drinking, carousing, or generally making an ass out of herself. Again, she makes me feel better about myself.

4. Reba: A beautiful, wholesome country girl who can write, act, sing, run a business, raise a family all at the same time. What the hell isn't to admire there? She's multitalented, responsible, again, no drinking, drugs, dieting, no offensive comments coming out of her mouth, no fueding with anyone. She's one of those celebs that you just feel like if you met her on the street, she'd end up being your best friend. I think Melissa, Queen, and Camryn would be similar, but with Reba it's just something that you can't help but feel.

5. Stephen King: Aside from his incredible imagination and talent, he's just another down-to-earth person who doesn't seem to have let the fame and money go to his head. He has a wife, children, a life outside his public persona. He's humble, and real.


See, these are the kind of people we need more of. People who are real, who are humble, who don't let fame, fortune, and attention go to their heads. Nicole, Britney, Lindsey and the like have all let it go to their heads. Not to mention that they feel the need to live up to this ridiculously idealized image of what they should be. I don't want to see some size 2 bimbo as the ideal woman and what I should aspire to be. I want to aspire to be like the women on my list: happy with who I am, no matter what my size, lifestyle, orientation, money situation, etc. I want to be able to be comfortable with myself, and not constantly wishing I was smaller, taller, richer, more famous, whatever.


On to the next aspect of the whole respect issue...My employer has merged with another company, and is upgrading the computer and phone systems. Not a bad thing alone. But, I see bad things coming down the road with the power of a semi. I see my entire location being shut down by Dec. 1st., give or take a day or two. But no one in a position to know, and trust me they do know, will tell us anything. Now, while I understand that they may be concerned about us walking out on them, my problem is this: I have 2 kids to support. I have a mortgage, bills, food, etc. to take care of. If you're going to put me out of a job, couldn't you at least respect me enough to give me a heads up so I can prepare for that? Of course, if you call them on it, they'll claim they couldn't say anything, that they were told by the higher ups not to. Grow some balls, would ya? When you know people have families, responsibilities, bills, you should have the damn decency to show them the courtesy of a little advance warning.

People don't give or earn respect anymore. You used to be taught that you should respect someone until they give you a reason not to. These days, it seems that it would be more appropriate to say give respect only to those who earn it.

OK. I'm done with my rant for tonight. :)