Spirituality

December 2, 2010

I don't know why that's the first thing that comes to mind, the first part of my life I want to tackle. Maybe it's the season, maybe something weighing on my mind.

I'm Catholic. Well sorta, I mean, I am Catholic, I went through RCIA and everything. Let me see if I can explain.

My religious upbringing was, well, scattered. My mom was raised Baptist (I think) and my dad was from a very strong German Lutheran family. They went to a Methodist college in rural Missouri. I was baptized something, not sure what, and don't remember going to church much at all as a child.

My brother and I went to a Lutheran summer camp for years as children, not because it was Lutheran but because it was one of the few sleep away camps that had programs for special needs children like my brother.

I remember candlelight services Christmas eve when I was a child, they were beautiful. We went to some church, lit candles and stood outside in a circle singing songs. Easter was about the Easter bunny and getting a pretty new dress. I don't remember church, though it was possible.

I do remember going to a Lutheran Church once, might have been Easter? It was interesting but once they started the communion part, my mom got upset and made us walk out.

As a pre-teen, my mom decided I needed to start going to church. Or more precisely Sunday School. So my dad would wake me up, make me get dressed, drop me off at Sunday school, and pick me up before Church. I remember this screaming fight with my mom on whether or not I was going to wear a mini skirt (my first) to Sunday School..> I was 12, the skirt barely was above my knees. (Umm my mom would roll over in her grave if she saw the length of the skirt my daughter wore to Catholic school) But I digress. I was confirmed Methodist sometime around then.

I spent a year at an Episcopal boarding school in 9^th grade – again not because it was Episcopalian but rather in spite of it.

Flash forward a few years, I was almost 18 living with a pseudo foster family in the deep deep south. They were Pentecostal…sorta. They were deeply religious…sorta. (there's that word again!) They belonged to this church lead by "Brother Ted". From what I understood, the church wasn't a part of any organization, wasn't sanctioned or overseen by any governing body.

Having never been around this type of church, it was so very odd. Services started at 9:00 a.m. Sunday and went to past 1:00 p.m. Then you had to be back at 5:00 and that service went into the late night. Wednesday night too! The services started out okay, about an hour or so of singing, but then it was hour after hour of this man SCREAMING at the top of his lungs into a microphone, fire, brimstone, everyone was going to Hell. Women would fall down, speaking in tongues they said, it was all quiet a circus.

That wasn't the problem.

The problem was the people.

The women would come and preach against anger, violence, of docility and love…and go home and beat their children black and blue.

The men of this church would talk about fidelity, family, God and country, and stop off at the bar on the way home, and then their girlfriends.

The pastor spoke about the need to give, you weren't a real Christian unless you tithed, gave more than you had, your children went without food so the money would go in the offering ….to buy Brother Ted a new house, pay for his brand new Cadillac.

The church preached about love, forgiveness, how everyone was a brother..as long as you weren't black, weren't Jewish, weren't anything other than one of them.

God forbid I said anything. Judge not lest you be judged. I couldn't question. You know, that's fine. That was their way. That was what they wanted, I guess.

But they judged me. These men, with women on the side, their own family beaten into submission, had the audacity to judge me. This young street kid who dared to wear jeans and wanted to go to college, who wasn't looking for a husband or wanting to settled down (my foster sister had her first child at 15) ..I was evil incarnate. Their goal was to force me to submit, make me see the error of my ways; make me into one of them. Mmmmmm Not. They lectured me, at least two full sermons (screaming for hours into a microphone) were directed right at me…wicked children become wicked women and are the entire reason for evil in this world, Satan and Eve musta been my best friends. (Oh and don't get me started on their stance on women in general!) They prayed for me, prayed over me, prayed behind my back. I was never quite sure if they were praying for my deliverance or for me to get hit by a car!

After awhile, I got wiser. My foster family realized they weren't going to change me. I made a deal. I understood that I was required to go to Church, but I wanted to go to a Church of my choosing, something closer to what I believed (or was comfortable embracing). They finally agreed. As long as I was in Church, attending however many services were required/expected. Hence my introduction to Catholicism. In and out sometimes in 45 minutes, once a week, you're done. Since I was not Catholic, attending Catholic Church meant I didn't get roped into any major commitments. Besides, I don't remember there being a Lutheran Church anywhere I think I didn't like the Episcopal one for some reason.

More importantly, Catholic was as far opposite as the Pentecostal church as I could get.

When I left my foster family, I can't say I went to church much after that. A few times, with friends or on the holidays I might but really not.

Flash ahead to my daughter. Tiff's biologicals were Catholic, sorta. She really hadn't been to church much until she went into foster care. Her foster mom before me was apparently a rather extreme Baptist or Penacolstal…Tiff wasn't allowed to watch the Lion King because (to the foster mom) the scene depicting the baby lion being held up and the other animals bowing was blasphemy because there was only one true God and kneeling to anything else was sacrilege. So she was happy to get away from that.

My best friend felt that Tiff should be exposed to religion and started taking her to church. Jeannine was Episcopalian then, now I think she's Atheist, but the closest church was Lutheran. I had Tiff baptized in that Church.

When we moved across country after Tiff was adopted, for a lot of complicated reasons Tiff was going into private school. As this was mostly pre websites, I had researched and found a private Lutheran School and enrolled Tiff. She stayed there two years.

After that, I wanted to find a new church for her. She was starting 6^th grade, an age when many churches really stop having good youth programs, except Catholics. I found a great church near our home with amazing people. This was our home for many years. Tiff even had a year of Catholic school. I went through the RCIA program, was confirmed and we made it to church most Sundays (course it helped that Church was a half block away.)

Then Tiff got older, I loved sleeping in, church became not so important.

I believe in God, I just don't know that I believe in religion. That said, I love the traditions and the rituals of Catholicism, they give me peace and structure far more than the chaos of other churches.

I did have Z baptized after he was born. But he's only been in church a few times other than that.

He's two now.

I want him raised in Church, I just haven't made it a priority. Yet. We've also moved, I need to find a new church. The parish we are in is a very very Asian area and the Church has over half their services in Vietnamese or Spanish. There are other chuches sorta nearby too. I need to start going each week and trying a service. Maybe we will be lucky and find a new home.

Charley thinks it too early. Z is not anywhere close to sitting quietly an hour. But if we don't start now, when will he learn?

But why do I feel the strong need for Z to be raised in Church when I don't feel the strong need to go if it's just me.

Maybe I just want to give him something that I was not given? Maybe I want him to have faith.

More Thoughts

December 1, 2010, part two

So I've thought a lot about my earlier post. I need to make changes; I need to be who I want to be, I need to find who that person is. I think the first thing I need to identify is what areas of my life I want to change, what I am doing that I want to change, where I want to be, and how I'm going to get there. I have a dear friend who has fallen on hard times as of late. I am always asking him where does he want to be, how is he going to get there. It's one thing to make a goal, it's another to set forth the steps necessary to meet it. And, before you make a goal, you need to know what you want to change.

So here, generally, are the areas of my life—sorta the compartments. I will add to these and narrow them down over the next bit. I will also analyze each and try to decide what I don't like, and what I do, and how I can fix it. These are not in any order, though honestly, I guess maybe they are.

Family

    Relationships with my girls
    Relationship with my son
    Relationship with my husband
    Relationships with others

Career

    Am I doing what I love?
    Am I doing the best I can?
    What paths lay in front of me
    How do I balance being the breadwinner, desire for career, and being a mommy and wife?

Financial

    Debt
    Student Loans
    Savings/Retirement
    Spending

Home

    Organization
    Things like cooking/food issues (complicated will explain later)
    Hubby wants to buy a house, I'm not as sure

Spiritual

Health/Fitness

 

The times they are a changing

December 1, 2010

I don't remember when, or how, or why, but one day I woke up and really realized that I wasn't happy. Not that I was expressly unhappy, I just didn't like who I was or where my life had gone. I've never really talked to anyone about this, a few times with hubby, sorta, but not really. I'm not sure when I stopped being happy, and I'm not even sure I know why I'm not happy.

Don't get me wrong – I love my family. I love my daughters and could not live without my baby boy. My husband is my best friend, I adore him; he is the first person I look for in the morning and the last person I think of at night.

It's more where my life is, what I have done with it, what I have not done.

How do I know I'm not happy? I have no zest for life. I go to work and exist through the day, just waiting for the clock to say go home. I go home, and exist. I have a few glasses of wine, some nights maybe more, hang out for a bit, wait until my son goes to bed, veg out watching tv, wait to go to bed, toss and turn, get up tomorrow and do it all again.

I exist. That's it.

I have been a lawyer for ten years. The past several years, I have really done nothing. I started out good, people thought I was going somewhere, my name would be known, you'd read about me. I think I started out on the right path but somewhere went left instead of right. Or maybe even took a u-turn. I earn less money now then my first year out of law school, have less responsibility, I exist. My name is not known, no one cares. I'm the one that shows up and everyone says who are you.

I saw a job opening recently, not that I am looking, but it was a great opportunity. I didn't even bother. I am simply not qualified. There is nothing I can point to recently that would impress anyone, least of all me.

After ten years, other lawyers have gone on to partnership, trials, things that they really enjoy. My cousin who is a year older is a judge, another cousin, a year younger, a partner in a large law firm. Me, I exist.

After the accident, in 2004, I learned to live with pain. It's not so bad now, still there. But I went from being in the best shape of my life, to the worst. Baby weight that won't go away, extra pounds from when I quit smoking, probably a few extra pounds from those few glasses of wine.

I have almost no friends; I don't call those I do have because why would they want to hear from me? They have lives, exciting things, my life is boring.

I have almost no money in savings, owe debts up the wayhoo and my balance on my student loans is increasing, I haven't made a dent while most of my peers probably have paid theirs back completely.

This isn't how it was supposed to be. I had goals, aspirations, dreams. I was going to accomplish something. Somewhere along the road, I let a few bumps hold me back. I took the safe way, not the hard way. I learned to exist.

My husband is ten times the parent I am. He is ten times the spouse.

I am not the lawyer, the wife, the mother I wanted to be.

I exist.

And I'm not happy.

And you know what? It's my own damn fault.

The only person who can change this is me.

I need to decide, do I want to be happy, or just be.

In a month, it will be 2011. A new year, a new start. I need to decide how I am going to change, what are my goals and how am I going to reach them. I need to stop thinking of what could have been and look to what is, and what will be. It's not too late to change, it's not too late to make me into who I want to be.

It's not too late to be happy.

So its my time, 2011 is my year. I am going to use this month to decide how and what I'm going to change, who I want to be, where I want to go.

I don't actually think anyone reads this blog J LOL, who would, after all who am I? But I am going to try to use this as my log of my attempts. We will see. If anyone does read this, feel free to chime in, I need all the help I can get.

I just want to be happy again.

Scary world

Don't know if anyone saw on the news the shooting at the elementary school here in San Diego. Guy randomly goes into the playground of an elementary --an elementary --school and empties his gun into a crowd of little kids. A six and seven year old were shot, thankfully only grazed with the bullets.

You hear about school shootings in high school, kids who are bullied etc and that is scary enough. But what kind of evil or insanity could cause someone to shoot at a bunch of little children? A 6 and 7 year old?

I hate that my child will go to school behind locked gates and fences but on the other hand am so thankful that the schools take these precautions. I get emails from Z's new school talking about when what gate is open and after those short times, you have to go through the office. On one hand, that just seems annoying, if I am running late that makes me more late. But now, I not only get it, I am thankful for it.

Apparently at the school where the shooting occurred, a parent previously sent an email concerned about security due to an unlocked gate. It is just sad that we even have to consider that and look at our schools to see how some wacho could get in and harm our little ones.

So much for innocence in childhood, now while we teach our kids emergency procedures, earthquake drills, tornado drills, fire drills, we need to add shooting drills. Okay, Johnny, heres what you do if some starts shooting. . . . Very scary, very sad.

Okay, rant over.

Expensive lesson

Did you ever want something so bad you could taste it?

My dad bought me the first gen iPhone for Christmas in 2007. I LOVED that phone, got me through many sleepless nights up nursing when Z was born. But like most electronics, the iPhone moved on, got better, newer, and mine got out dated and the battery started to die.

This year they announced the new iPhone 4 was coming out a DAY after my birthday. I started to want it. I yearned for that phone, a new phone that wouldn't die within an hour of being unplugged, newer and better cameras, more apps. Of course, my birthday came and went and since we didn't pre-order it, I had to wait.

A few weeks ago, my hubby took me to the AT&T store to buy me an iPhone. We ordered it and they said it would ship in 7-10 days.

I got on line DAILY (okay, more than daily, maybe hourly?) to check my status. When it shipped I was ecstatic. I tracked my phone across the US and when it was to be delivered, went home at lunch to see just in case I could be there. I was. Last Friday I took my brand new toy that I had lusted after for months out of its box. I proudly unwrapped it, activated it, played with it. I was in LOVE. I couldn't wait until the weekend to explore my new prize, learn all its intrcities, and fall even more in love with it.

Saturday morning we were to go see some friends at the park for a play date. We were running late, I popped my new phone in my back pocket while running around gathering up my stuff. Ran to the potty really quick too since I didn't want to use the one at the park.

Had to hurry up and pee quick, late late late.

Started to wash my hands, leaned over to flush. . ..

and at the bottom of the bowl was my new phone.

:(

O.M.G.

Tried to turn it off, shook out water. It spend days in a bag of rice only to be no more.

What to do, visions of replacing my phone at the cost of $600, of having no phone for ever, horrible sad thoughts of not having a smart phone raced through my head.

I jumped online and found insurance, and quickly bought that for $100 but then I couldn't make a claim for over 30 days. I tried to think about no phone for months. Wow, I was devastated.

On Tuesday, hubby thought about getting me a prepaid phone so at least I had a phone, I ordered one and had it delivered, that was $50.

Then I realized that the insurance had a $50 deductible, and there was no guarantee they would pay my claim, when I finally got it.

I was soooooo sad. My new toy, my baby. I was out of luck

My phone did come on a bit, nothing where I could retrieve any data, but it did come on. I went to Apple's site too see if they had any suggestions.

GUESS WHAT!! Apple actually has an out of warranty plan where I could get a replacement phone for the $199 I paid for it. Upon further research, the Apple stores actually have a stock of phones for replacements--even while people are waiting weeks for back ordered phones.

So, I did some math. The insurance was $100, the deductible was $50, my prepaid was $50-- for one month. If it took a few months to make the claim I was stuck with a different number, a POS cheap phone, and no guarantee that I would get a new iPhone after all that if they realized the phone broke before the insurance went into effect.

My attempts to get a new phone were likely going to cost me over $300 --or I could suck it up, go to apple, pay $199 and walk out with a new phone.

Today, I am the proud owner of a brand new (maybe refurbished but who cares) iPhone 4, the insurance is processing my cancellation and should refund my money, now I just need to see if I can cancel and return the prepaid phone!

Oh I am a really happy camper today, if not somewhat more broke.

WWYD?

I have a friend, a really really old friend. This guy was one of the best friends I ever had twenty years ago. It was a very odd friendship--he was something like 15 years old then me and I was twenty years old.

Jack would have done --and did --anything for me. He had very little but what he did he shared. He was a great friend, made me happy when I was sad, fixed my car, made me laugh. When I left Georgia for Ohio I cried most of the way there because I knew I would miss him. When I moved to California for law school, one year he sent me what I am sure was his last $300 just to make sure my daughter had a Christmas because I had nothing for her and no money.

He had a crush on me I think, feelings that were not shared, but he was an amazing friend. When Charley and I got together, I sensed Jack was jealous. We stopped corresponding not long after that. I thought that Jack had always held a torch for me, and once I was in a long term relationship, it was too hard for him to continue the friendship. That was almost 10 years ago.

I didn't hear from Jack for years. . .every now and I again I thought of him and it made me sad that I would never hear from him again. I had no way of getting in touch with him. I knew he had moved on from Atlanta to start grad school but I didn't know where or what had become of him.

In May of 2009 I suddenly get a message from him on MySpace. He was ALIVE. But he had gone through HELL. He had started grad school but dropped out when his mom died. He had crashed and burned after that, two heart attacks, four strokes. He's been homeless, in a psych hospital. All kinds of issues. He was on disability, had issues walking but was able to sometimes to a computer at the library.

Another friend had supplied a prepaid cell phone and we started texting back and forth. Calls were hard because he had trouble talking after his stroke. . .and I am not a big phone person given I am usually at work or chasing a toddler. I started adding minutes to his phone so we could text since otherwise we couldn't. Every two months or so I plop 20 bucks on his phone...works.

So Jack has major issues, he gets disability, they take a couple hundred out of his check for defaulted student loans, another couple hundred for medicare. He barely has enough to cover rent, almost none for food, and cannot work yet since he cannot walk more that 20 feet without sitting down.

I have sent him a few pizzas over the last few months but Pizza's are not real food. There are times, like this last week, where he texts me that he only has a box of mac and cheese and oatmeal to last a week.

I want to help him but how? Did I mention he is back in Georgia and I am in California? I looked for grocery delivery where I can send him groceries but the small town he lives in doesn't have that capability. I looked into food bank things, like Angel Food--but there stuff is freezer food and he doesn't have a freezer.

He had asked me for a messenger bag if I ever thought of it, for when he takes the bus to the library, this week I got on Amazon found one cheep, and sent it. While I was on there, I checked out their food supply and sent him a bunch of Healthy Choice mixers -- they are shelf stable foods that we have in our pantry. I sent him about $80 bucks worth or three six packs of various food. Shipping was free through amazon since it was over $25. I was really proud of my self for thinking of that. . .and then I realized that those were microwavable. Quick text --nope he doesn't have a microwave in his small efficiency. So I jumped on Wal-Mart, found a $30 microwave with free shipping, and sent that as well. Kinda didn't have a choice because I had already ordered the food. Sigh.

I know I don't "owe" this guy anything but really I do. Jack probably saved my life more times then I can count, he was a life raft for me at a time I was at the bottom of the bottom...he kept me from slipping over the edge so many times. Having a friend like that made me believe that life was worth living. . .my life was worth living...when I felt that there was no future.

Today, I am doing the same for him. He ranges from suicidal to depressed and apparently a text from me makes him go on. He has to do exercises for physical therapy, and I am working with him on doing those so he can get better and go back to work. I am trying to help him as much as I can. . .but I know too well how hard moving forward can be when your belly is empty.

So how can I help? How can I make sure he has nutritious food? Sending money doesn't really help, he doesn't have a way to the grocery and can only buy what he can hold while riding a bus. . .and using a cane. He needs a ride to the store, someone to help him buy the food, and a way home. He only has a tiny fridge, no freezer so needs shelf stable food. How do I get that across the country to Georgia?

I feel so bad. What can I do? How can I help?

Second thoughts. . .

I think I am having some second thoughts. . .well not really but still . . .

Today I dropped off the last of our paperwork for Z to start preschool in November. He is going to the French/American school and will start the Monday after he turns 2. Yes, I said 2. so in just about 4 1/2 months.

It is a great school and Charley and I have talked about and planned for him to go there since before he was born. We were so excited he was accepted, we took the application process seriously, not knowing how much competition he had.

Its going to be a great experiance for him, I really strongly believe in teh value of bilingual education and really want him to have that opportunity. I love the school, that is not the issue, and since they pro- rated the tuition since he won't start until November, its great.

So what are my second thoughts?

Is he really going to be ready in November?

The 2 year old classroom (PK0) is filled with all kids who are at least 2 by December 2010, they are allowed to start on their second birthdays. So there will be kids there who turned 2 in January.

I know there is going to be developmentally appropriate activities but Z doesn't sit still, or listen really good, or even play nice right now. The time we observed, all the kids were sitting nicely at tables doing crafts --something Z is really not capable of doing now.

I am sure between now and November some of that will change. I am also sure he will learn to behave better and I know that even if he stays were he is, he will have that same sorta structure at his current day care when he ages up to the 2 year old class.

I know this is the best option because if we waited until he was three, he would not have a year of language exposure like he will now.

I want to push him to exceed and fulfill all potential, I just don't want to push him to far though. He is still my little baby boy.

Yes dear, whatever you say dear

My dear hubby is officially on my shit list today.

We have had sleeping problems with Bub for the last week or two. I think a lot of it comes from being in a new house, he wakes up and his room is different, his toys aren't hanging from the ceiling, everything is new and different and it freaks him out. So he wakes up and doesn't go back to sleep.

We usually wake him up around 6:00 a.m. anyway to bring him to bed and nurse or have a bottle. A few weeks ago, he started waking up and fussing around 5:30 -- no big deal --almost time to wake up, so Charley brought him to bed. Sometimes it was 5:45 --other times 5:15. Little too early to wake up for my tastes but usually he snuggled up and went back to sleep.

Then about two weeks ago or so, he started to wake at 4:00 a.m. Again, Charley brought him to bed. This went on for a few days. Then it was 3:00 a.m. About a week ago it was 1:30 a.m., then 12:30 am...see a pattern?

Of course he wanted in bed with us. Much more comphy in the nice toasty water bed snuggled up with daddy. He quickly (in my opinion) figured this out.

I wanted to put a stop to this.

So Friday night, when he started fussing around midnight, I told Charley we were not going in. I let him cry about 30 minutes, went in to say I love you and you are okay but you need to sleep in your own bed. He had thrown his bottle on the ground and was standing up.

That got more screams.

So I went in again, rocked him a bit, gave him his bottle, nursed him until he fell asleep-- and of course he woke up screaming as soon as I put him in his crib.

Went in a third time.

Finally, just let him cry.

Took about an hour and a half to two hours total, but he finally went back to sleep.

Charley was not happy about that. He thinks its mean and after all we would get more sleep if he was with us.

Saturday night comes, and I wonder out loud how he will do and Charley asks me "are you doing the same thing? " YES I want to break him of this habit-- I know he is a smart baby and he has figured this out and we need to put a stop to it.

Thankfully, Saturday night he goes to bed and doesn't make a peep until 7 a.m. NICE.

Sunday night, get him in bed, we are tired, work tomorrow. And, of course, he wakes up at 11:45 p.m. We lay in bed listening to him fuss for a bit. Charley finally gets up and I was like "really" he is barely fussing, not screaming, just whimpering, he will eventually go back to sleep.

Well, Charley says, I will get more sleep if he is here instead of in his room fussing. So, over my objection, he goes and gets Bub and brings him to bed.

We all go to sleep.

3:00 a.m. I wake to well aimed kicks to my kidneys. Bub has turned himself sideways and apparently is trying to get comphy. I move all the way to the edge of the bed....and so does he. Finally, I roll over, move his legs so he is not kicking me. He quiets down....

for another 15 minutes.

Then he starts tossing and turning, moving, rolling, up down up down for the next hour and a half. I guess he just can't get comphy and so he is just moving around. Finally, around 4:15, I ask Charley if he has any bottle left to help settle him down, Charley gets up to get a new bottle and Bub rolls off the bed to follow him, but he is still half asleep so he walks a few feet, falls, cries, walks a few feet. Charley grabs him, hands him to me, and gets the bottle.

I think he finally got back to sleep around 4:45 a.m.

Yes dear, we certainly get more sleep when he is in bed with us.

Sigh.

My birthday was yesterday. I turned 39 ...um I mean 29?

I was dreading my birthday, especially after reading back over my blog with the drama from last year.

I had an AMAZING day though, probably one of the best days/birthdays in a very very long time.

Tuesday night -- the night before --Ash showed up after work having stopped at the store and bought me Rotisserie chicken, delicious mashed potatoes, and garlic bread. YUM. She was in class on Wednesday night so couldn't be there. It was WONDERFUL and so sweet.

Wednesday I come into my office filled with balloons and presents from my co-workers. I got this amazing iron cat, a wonderful bottle of wine, Outback gift cards, flowers and this really cute photo frame.

My daughter Tiffany took me out to lunch, and not just a deli sandwich, actually Chili's a sit down amazing lunch. And she paid! I think that was one of the first times any one of my kids actually picked up the check. It was so sweet and thoughtful.

I got tons of text messages from friends and family, phone calls and facebook posts!

Charley came home with a balloon --which of course Bub took -- and angel food cake.

Then Adrienne and Ashley's gift was two tickets to the Peter and Paul (of Peter Paul and Mary) concert in October I have totally wanted tickets too!

The girls watched bub and Charley and I went out to an amazing dinner at the La Jolla Strip Club.. yummm, granted we had to cook our own steak but that was fun. After dinner we hit their bar and I had an amazing amazing bloody mary. We asked the bartender if she could make a non spicy one -- they use a mix which is spicy but she said she was up to making one from scratch. Yummy

Got home, and Charley I even had time to get into the hot tub for a little relaxing.

It really was a great day.

My only regret is that I was so freaking tired -- the night before I couldn't fall asleep until after 2 and then Z woke up at 4:30 and got into bed with us and refused to go back to sleep. So I was SOOOO tired.

But you know, if that was the worst part of the day....

I really actually felt loved!

Oh yeah, and I think my dad forgot it was my birthday because I didn't get any messages from him. LOL oh well.

Remembering how lucky I am

Yesterday, a mother and father had to bury their 9 month old son. I don't know the family, beyond reading their blog for the last many months, but I grieve for them, I cried many tears over the passing of a little boy who never left the NICU. They live across the country and I will never meet them but there are connections...the mom is a teacher at the college I went to, the baby was at a hospital my sister worked at. . .mostly, they are parents of a beautiful little boy who has gone Home.

I read their blog last night of the funeral, it was so sad. I cried --sobbed really -- as I grieved for the loss of life and the sadness of that family. I remembered Zayden's thankfully short stay in the NICU at Children's after he was born, our terror upon learning there was something wrong, and the faces of the families that came each day to visit their children. . .I think of those children and realize that some also may have never left the confines of Children's NICU.

And then I took my little guy, gave him a huge hug, thanked God for his health, remembered the chaos and fear surrounding the emergency C-section, remembering wondering if he would live, and remembering another mom (actually my OB/gyn) who was only a few weeks behind me, and lost her baby just a week before we realized something was wrong with Zayden.

I took him to his room for night night time. I sat there rocking him to sleep, letting him nurse, until long after he was fast asleep, and I rocked him more, and held him more, and kissed his sweet face, and ran my hands through his beautiful hair, and thanked God over and over for this beautiful precious little life, and if he is to be the only one I am ever to have, then thank You for him being healthy and happy.

Almost an hour after he fell asleep, I very reluctantly put him in his crib, watched him sleep, and shed more tears for the family that will never have that reprieve, and who put their baby to sleep in a grave yesterday, instead of his crib.

Sometimes it takes that to remember how lucky I am --how sad is that.

Really??? I am OVER IT

I have tried not to vent on here too much about the trials and tribulations of my older kids but, wow, after last night I am still steaming.

Brief back story. . .about 4 years ago, my daughter Tiff got mixed up with this loser bf. He was a jerk to her, to me, in general. They got pregnant and were planning a "happy family" but of course it all crashed and burned -- very ugly ending. The baby thankfully got placed with a wonderful adoptive family, Tiff went off to ASU to get away from this boy, and life has been okay...well sorta, she got mixed up with some other loser but for us that is SOP.

Anyway, flash forward.

Tiff is now seeing this guy again. I have (mostly) kept my mouth shut, rolled my eyes and left it alone. I have my opinions but they are mine. She has a right to make her own mistakes --even if it is the same ones over and over and over and over. . . .

Last night she is out with boy and calls me to ask if they can come over and watch the Lakers game with the family. She immediately knew I was not happy about it but pushed and pushed and pushed. I said I would think about it and talk to Charley...who was at work on a call. So she takes it on herself to text him to ask if boy can come over, oh sure, why not. After all Age is bringing her new bf over too. So she sends me a text, Age's bf is coming over, so its only fair that mine comes too.

Fine whatever.

I tell her since "everyone" else agrees, they sure. . BUT I will be upstairs when he comes. While Tiff can choose to be around this guy, I also can choose to not be around him. This is a guy who treated me like shit, treated my daughter even worse, whose entire family trashed me and my daughter three years ago. Yeah -- to Tiff at 23 that is ancient history, to me, not so much.

Understand,I have practiced family law, and its off shot domestic violence retraining orders for over ten years. I do not believe people can change that much, I do not believe a tiger can change its stripes. People that abuse, mentally or physically, get that from something deep inside themselves, its a personality trait and is part of who they are. Sure some people can learn to control it or otherwise deal with it but I don't want that around me, in my house, or more importantly and what was the other point of contention last night -- around my son.

Tiff says sure you can go "hide in your room" --with all the sarcasm she can muster. But then I tell her Z will be with me and not downstairs she gets really really pissed, "but bub will want to see daddy, and play with all his toys, etc." well you know what, its almost bed and bath time, its not a big deal. Well that really ticks her off.

I start steaming. . .the problem (to me) isn't the bf coming over, its the anticipation of knowing that the girls will get together, get catty, god shes such a bitch etc. Its being faced with one of the major problems I have in the house, everyone else demands we (I) respect their feelings, their beliefs, their ideas no matter how dumb, stupid, reckless, etc they are. Hey, its your life, your choices you get to make them. But when it comes to my choices, my feelings -- screw you, get over it and deal with it. Not one person in the house ---including my husband -- gives a damn about how I feel.

Anyway, big girls come home, Age's bf comes over, I make dinner for Z, laker game starts. Gets late, I take bub upstairs, get him showered and in pjs, get him in bed. I make myself something light for dinner and go upstairs to watch tv.

Much later, Tiff sends me a text that they are on their way, then that she is about to come in.

No problem, I am already set for the night. Take a nice long hot bath and relax.

That should have been it.

Charley heads up after the game. We start chatting -- understand I was having a private conversation with my husband in my room. We had not had a chance to talk about this before cause he was gone when I got home and came home in time to start the game.

I tell him how I feel, that while tiff can certainly date whoever she wants, I don't feel I have to be around it, etc etc etc. I tell him that I really do not want Z around any guy that has ever --ever-- treated a girl wrongly because I am adamant that he will grow up to treat women with respect.

We are just talking when suddenly, and angrily, Tiff slams open our door and says if you want to say something then say it to my face, it took two of us to get pregnant you know, you can't blame him for that. .. and runs off.

I'm like hey, okay, get back in here and we will discuss it, I will be happy to explain how I feel . . ..

Nope -- that would be the mature thing to do.

Instead, she races down the stairs to sisters and sister's bf, and the boy, screaming FUCK YOU, I MEAN FUCK YOU.

Okay, well now I could have just ignored that, walked away, rolled my eyes, but hey this is me. I go down stairs, grab her by her arm, and say lets talk--now --upstairs.

She starts screaming at me, Ashley jumps in, gee that's so rude and inappropriate. . .etc. I'm like hey, you know what? I look at Ash and tell her she damn well expects us to respect her feelings and her desires, right? well yeah. .. but its not fair your mad at boy for getting Tiff pregnant, that was her choice too. . .

I'm like WTF? this has nothing to do with Tiff getting preggo. Whatever. Obviously the girls were "talking" about my feelings, and the fact that I am not entitled to them. I'm like hey, I am entitled to have my opinions and my feelings. . .

So then Tiff starts screaming at me, well yeah, feel what you want, but you have no right to say ugly things, or be mean to him or trash talk him. . .

I was pissed.

Wait just a freaking second. I was in my room, talking to my husband in the privacy of my home. I was not saying a damn thing to his face, Iwas not spreading it around the neighborhood and until you came upstairs and busted into my room, I was not even talking to you, and certainly was not talking in front of other people. (By this time Age had taken bf outside the front to get away from all the drama)

For just a second, I saw on Tiff's face that she had an oops moment, like she realized I was right. Of course that lasted a second and then she started screaming again that she wasn't eavesdropping and I was loud and I didn't have a right blah blah blah

I go outside and apologize to new bf, sorry you had to see that, etc etc. Ash just kept saying "ridiculous", etc. Bf says okay, no worries, etc, probably just to be nice. The girls tell him hopefully that won't keep you from going in the hot tub, etc.

Whatever,

I go upstairs and Charley is mad at me! He starts in on not letting Tiff push my buttons and I shouldn't have gone downstairs etc. WTF!

Fine, whatever, I am leaving! I grab my iPod and go out for a walk, at 9:30 at night. I walk and I walk and I walk, in a strange neighborhood, with tears streaming. I finally walk all the way over to the park, and start going in it then realize, probably not my best move.

The jumble of thoughts in my head, I am sick of this, I am sick of having to support everyone and never be supported. I am sick of no one respecting my opinions, my thoughts, my needs, my wants. Little things. I get my kitchen in the order I want, someone doesn't like it, comes through and moves things the way they want it. Seems like the only reason anyone gives a damn about me is to pay the rent, pay the bills, buy food...otherwise to hell with you. Even my own husband isn't supporting me. Screw that and screw them. I should pack my stuff and leave, let them pay the rent and provide for themselves. Anyway, that stuff and a lot of other stuff streaming through my head.

I come home around 10:15 thinking maybe wandering around in the dark--not a good plan. Charley of course is fast asleep, nice to know he was worried even a second about me.

I am pissed, hurt, sad.... so angry I am still shaking, there is no way I am going to get to sleep tonight. I go into the bathroom and ...then Tiff pops her head in.

Mommy, I am sorry.

I guess I did get through to her in that second.

I took her to her room and sat down with her. I told her thank you for coming in because I was this close to leaving but it meant a lot to me. She had been crying too.

I told her that I understood she had a right to her feelings, her own mistakes etc., but she had to respect that I have the right to my feelings, beliefs, etc. I told her this was not about her getting pregnant, it was about how boy treated her, how he treated me, how he hurt someone I love so much. She said she knows but that was so long ago, he was on drugs then, he had changed.

For her sake, I hope so but I don't have to forgive him, that is my right.

I think she got it, I think maybe we found peace.

She was mad coming home because I said bub couldn't be around bf.

I told her one of my most important things in life is to raise my son to treat women with respect. I will not have him around anyone who has not. That is my right as a parent.

She said she was steaming to start so hearing what I said set her off...I was steaming too because I knew the discussion/fight was inevitable and I knew the issues were going to be no one respecting my feelings.

I guess it got settled, though I am sure I will hear it from the other two girls.

I do feel bad for having a blow up in front of Age's new bf.

Super Mom!

Its a bird, its a plane, is SUPER MOM!!

okay not really, but last night was a chore. . .I know many moms deal with so much on their own on a regular basis but I am SPOILED in that I have Charley there doing so much.

Last night, I impressed myself though. I came home after working over an hour late, grabbed a beer and sat out with hubby and chatted. Then he got a call -I hate when he is on call. So he took off and I started making dinner.

This is our first week that I have done a menu and everything for the week. . with the new house and higher rent, we have to save as much money as we can so eating out during the week is a no go.

I picked a few recipes that I though Charley would love. . .night before I made a homemade beer cheese soup that was good, not spectacular, but good, but it took me over an hour to make.

Last night was a yummy meat loaf made with beef, pork sausage, and over a pound of cheese. Anyway, I start making the meatloaf, which of course takes much longer than I thought it would what with fresh homemade bread crumbs, chopped onions etc. Of course, Zayden is REFUSING to cooperate, he stands at my feet pushing on me in hopes that I would pick him up.

Finally I put him in his highchair and fed him dinner while finishing up my meat loaf. I get the meatloaf in the over about the same time Zayden decides he is done (Read, lots of "all dones" coupled with food being thrown around my kitchen) I get the kitchen cleaned up from my disaster and now the kids, get him down and we (I) decide to go for a walk --instant happy kid.

We walk all around the neighborhood for about half an hour, come home, Charley is still not home and the meatloaf has another 40 minutes. Pop kid in shower, get teeth brushed, hair washed, medicine on face, pjs on, even make bottle and start getting him to bed. Thankfully Charley came home after about 15 minutes of rocking him and him not wanting to sleep cause he wanted dada. hand off kid, go make mashed potatoes and finish dinner.

So yeah, most anyone has this as a normal day but to me, I even impressed myself!

I haven't blogged at all this year - - and here we are in June!

So the news of the week is we moved last weekend. After ten years at our beautiful house, we had to move to a new one. I am sad, and overwhelmed, and EXHAUSTED. But we did it, sorta.

So thats all thats going on right now. I'm at work so guess I gotta get back to it~