Wednesday, May 25, 2011
There's some pretty heavy stuff going on around these parts. And I want to write about it because some times it's the only way I can process something. But I am not sure I can write about this because it doesn't just involve me. It's painful and complicated and confusing. And I'm struggling with a heavy heart right now. And I don't write a whole lot of the heavy stuff. But I just don't know if I can get through this without telling the story... So let's put it on the shelf for now and talk about some mindless nothings. Okay? Sound good? Are we cool??
Here we go....
Have you ever used Craig's List? I have looked at Craig's List for various items. And back when I worked for the He-Boss and She-Boss I used Craig's List to find tenants for their rental properties. But personally? I have never bought or sold anything on Craig's List. Ubes, on the other hand, is king of Craig's List.
Can you sew? Yes. A little. I can make really amazing baby things. And I can follow a pattern sort of, if it's easy. But I am too scared to hem anything and I probably couldn't do anything seriously complicated. But this is something I want to explore in the future. I would love to retake Home Ec. Or at least take a class of some kind. It's on my Bucket List.
Do you pour syrup on pancakes or dip pancakes in the syrup? Pour. Generously. And FYI, I eat my pancakes with peanut butter. Because it's delicious. Hey, don't yuck someone else's yum. (You can thank Katie for that piece of advice.)
Rain storms, love them or hate them? Love, love, LOVE THEM. Maybe because we don't get enough of them here in the desert? Or maybe because when we do get them, they are AMAZING. And kinda scary. But still, I love the rain and I love a gray day!
Do you like swimming? I do! My kids are fish too, so I love hanging out in the pool with them. Looking forward to that this summer fo sho.
What kind of drink do you order at Sonic? Um, duh. Diet Coke with vanilla. And I am still pissed at them for getting rid of their 99 cent drinks all day. I love my Diet Coke with vanilla but I am not willing to pay $2 for it.
Are you funny? I think we all know the answer to this. It is definitely a resounding NO.
At what age will your kids get cell phones? This is a good question. Junior is thirteen and has had a cell phone almost two years. He is responsible. And I love that I can always get a hold of him. So now, we will probably get one for Mac this summer. Mac made it through the whole school year without losing a jacket or a lunch box, this is a HUGE improvement for him. Plus he has had an iPod touch for two years and has never lost that. We'll see how it goes. But now that they are getting older and spending time at friends' houses, I think they should have phones for my piece of mind. Boo will get one in the 5th grade, because both boys will be in high school then and I don't like the idea of her being alone at school. And if you think I am being ridiculous, I will tell you that her friend Stella*, who is also in first grade, has an iPhone. And a Juicy Couture backpack. And a mom who drinks a lot, a dad who is never home, and a standing reservation at a rehab clinic in Tucson. Oh wow. Did I say that out loud?
What's your favorite vegetable? Artichokes. Love them.
Were you a Girl Scout? I was not a Girl Scout. But I was a Brownie. And I got kicked out of Brownies because I refused to wear that ugly uniform. Totally true story. Those people did not understand that I was a spring and would look like death warmed over in autumn colors. Springs do not look good in warm tones, people. That hideous yellow-gold turtle neck made me look like a washed out mess with a bad case of jaundice. And even at the tender of age of 8, I was not willing to compromise my fashion sense for a few cheap gold plated pins and a chance to sell some delicious cookies. No thank you. But let me tell you something. When I take over the world, one day very soon, I will demand that the Girl Scouts update their uniforms. Because OHMYGOD, no young girl should have to suffer bad fashion in order to sit in a circle and sing songs and do some crafts. Who will help me produce the PSA for this???
So yeah. There you have it. Ten on Tuesday. Which is really a Wednesday. And most of you will read this on a Thursday. But my next post is going to be a major bummer. You have been warned.
*not her real name, but it sounds an awful lot like that
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
So I have this huge ugly bruise on my arm (I walked into a car mirror)(No I was NOT drinking at the time). It's all bluish greenish purplish yellowish. I know. Super sexy. And it's huge. Make a circle with your middle finger and thumb, like your doing the OK sign but with the wrong finger. Oh just do it, nobody is looking at you. Now separate your middle finger from the tip of your thumb by maybe a half an inch. Yeah. That's how big my bruise is. Yes, I actually measured it using the same method. It's totally scientific to do it that way. I read it in a book. Anyhoo, so I have this bruise. And for some reason, people who notice it immediately want to touch it. Seriously. Everyone who walks by me presses it to see if it hurts or something. So it just keeps getting bluer and greener and purpler. Which I know are really not words but I am in pain so I can say what I want.
My middle child went for a well visit at the pediatrician last week. We go to an office with many doctors so I'll make an appointment with any of them if it means I can get in sooner and at a time convenient for our schedule. So this time we happened to see a girl doctor. Mac didn't have a problem with it . . . at first. But when she told him to drop his pants so she could check for a hernia, his eyes about popped out of his head. I just sat there shaking my head and mouthing that I was sorry. The kid is 11, he has never had that experience before. So yeah, it was a little awkward. After the doctor left the room, Mac reached down and pulled up his pants and said "Well I certainly wasn't expecting THAT." The kid cracks me up.
So remember when I said I wanted to plan a vacation with a bunch of our couple friends? Well it's totally happening. We are going on a cruise in October to Cabo baby!! We're calling it the Cruise of Awesomeness. Actually I think I am the only one calling it that. Because it's gonna be awesome.
Our anniversary is this weekend. Seventeen years. WOW. Guess how we are celebrating? We're going to spend the day at the Arizona Canned Beer Festival. Oh yes my friends, 17 years and the magic is still happening. And I thought we would never top the romance of last year. Yeah that was one hot date. We saw MacGruber. And if you want tips on keeping the passion alive in your marriage, just send me an email. I mean obviously I am an expert.
Peace out my friends!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
I hate it when people blame their childhood for everything that is wrong in their lives. I mean I get it. Your childhood sucked. So did mine. And his. And hers. And pretty much everyone born after 1960.
Yes, being a kid sucks. Someone else makes all the decisions for you. And sometimes those decisions affect you negatively. Sometimes those decisions cause a chain reaction of negativity and suckiness. Sometimes those decisions cause devastation. Sometimes those decisions leave scars.
But as an adult, only YOU choose how those decisions affect your future. Only YOU choose how to move forward. Only YOU choose what to do with those scars. Do you learn from the mistakes of others? Do you pick yourself up and rise above? Do you let those scars make you stronger? More patient? More compassionate? Do you grow the flip up and take responsibility for your own actions and feelings?
Because your experiences don't define you as a person. They don't dictate how you react to the world around you. They may help direct your path, but that is it. Everything that happens to you, leads you to where you stand right now. But YOU choose who is standing there.
I have no empathy for people who refuse to take responsibility for their actions. Who refuse to be accountable.
Why am I talking about this?? Well..... Let me tell you....
I have a brother. We were not raised together. We are different. Very different. It was like we were raised on different planets. And the reasons we were not raised together are complicated and not really the point of my rant today.
The point is this, he has carried a huge chip on his shoulder into his adulthood and frankly it got old. I mean I tried, people. I tried. For years and years and years I struggled and pulled and fought to maintain a relationship. I fretted and I worried and I literally made myself sick over him. I wanted so badly to have some resemblance of a functional family relationship with someone. And I just felt he was the natural choice since we shared so much more DNA. I just thought that alone would give us some kind of understanding of one another. Something that would transcend all the bullshit that had been thrown at us. All the obstacles and excuses and decisions that were made for us because we were children and didn't have a say in which path we took at the time. I just thought that even though his path took him one way and mine took me another, we would still share something.
But really, we are strangers. We have nothing in common except blue eyes and freckled noses. And after a while, I got weary. I got tired of the struggle to keep the relationship alive. Because it was always on his terms. And that just wasn't fair.
Because it wasn't my fault. Like him, I didn't choose my life. Like him, I didn't get a choice. And it wasn't easy. My life wasn't any easier or any harder than his. It was just different. Different people, different places, different experiences. Different tragedies and different celebrations. Different.
And I know that's not fair either.
But mine was different because I chose to handle it differently. I chose to rise above. I chose to learn from the mistakes other people around me made. I chose to see the good in my life. To be thankful for the fact that it could have been so much worse.
Regardless of the heartbreak, and the struggles, and the fear, I was fed. I was clothed. I was loved. And he was fed and he was clothed and he was loved.
But I kept moving forward and letting the experiences make me stronger. I can't sit around and boo hoo and woe is me and all that because there is no place for it. If you can't move forward, there is nowhere else to go. And I refuse to sit still. And I refuse to move forward carrying all of your bullshit on my shoulders. I have my own bullshit. It's what reminds me of how I got here and why I should be thankful I made it.
So I stopped trying. I stopped fighting and struggling and worrying and fretting and I just let go of him. And I was totally okay with it. I had peace. And a lot of people who have close families may not understand that. But I am okay with that too. Because my relationship is not yours. My family is not yours. My heart is not yours. My view is not yours. This is what was best for me, and for him, at the time.
I haven't heard from him in 14 years. He has a son I don't know. I have three children he doesn't know. And it's weird, but it's okay.
And then out of the blue, this weekend, I get a Facebook message from some girl. She's engaged to him. She has been looking for me. I tell her that he and I have not been in touch in a while. She responds that he agreed it had been a long time.
And then she provides me with his phone number.
And it all came rushing back. The anger. The confusion. The hurt.
I don't want this. I don't want to get involved. I don't want a brother. I don't want to know this girl he's engaged to. I don't want to get attached to these people. Because I can't go through all of that again.
I'm not calling him. And how dare he use this girl to get in touch with me. She is 21. He is 38. What in the hell is he thinking? I am not doing this.
If he has something to say to me, he needs to be a man and get a hold of me. Because I am not doing this again. Do you see a revolving door in front of me? Because I sure as hell DO NOT.
You are not welcome to come and go as you please. Especially now that I have children who deserve better than that. You don't deserve to know these children. You don't deserve to know me. You owe me an apology. You owe your mother an apology. And you need to grow up. And grow some balls. And see past the enormous amount of bullshit you have been fed your whole life. There are two sides to every story. So stop blaming the entire world because your life was not ideal. I'm sorry you experienced so many of the terrible things you did. But I can't change it. And neither can she. And she tried. OHMYGOD she tried! You don't even know how hard this woman tried for you. You don't even know all the things she did to help you. You have no idea how much she loved you. How hard this has been for her. And you are a parent for God's sake. How can you not understand? How can you not see from her point of view? How can you still be so selfish? You are a grown man. BE ACCOUNTABLE. BE RESPONSIBLE.
And tell your child bride I'm not accepting her friend request either. This isn't the Oprah Winfrey Show. There isn't going to be a heart warming reconcilliation. This is Jerry Springer. And I'm kicking your ass.