Wednesday was picture day for JE and Baby G. I had their clothes laid out the night before, so the morning would be free for wetting hair and brushing teeth and otherwise making the two of them look more groomed and presentable than usual.
JE was totally psyched about wearing his colorful Spiderman button-down shirt, since it is his favorite, and I didn't even make him get a hair cut (because we all know JE likes his bangs to touch his eyebrows, his 'side burns' half the length of his ear, and the back just long enough to keep the chicken-head double-crown cowlicks from taking over.) He promised to smile with teeth (unlike last year,) so I patted him on the head and sent him on his way.
I pondered over G's fashion choices a little longer than JE's- after all, the kid is growing faster than her wardrobe can keep up, and I had to decline her request for a dress because she has no dress shoes to go with. I settled on her her little green/aqua/white hoodie, since it brings out her pretty blue eyes, then carefully trimmed her bangs, de-smudged her face, and sent her on her way with her brother.
It wasn't until later that night I realized my fashion crime: I forgot to change her earrings!
Tiny red ladybugs with a green/aqua/white shirt?!! What was I thinking? Did I temporarily take leave of my senses? Are there not tiny green turtles and tiny blue and white dragonflies a mere two feet away on my dresser? Oh, the horror.
I am a complete and utter failure as a woman, a human being, and most importantly, as a mother. I am ready to call DCFS on myself. My only hope is the offending ladybugs may not be visible through her hair.
On the upside: G didn't really seem to notice or mind!
Friday, August 15, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Long Time Coming
Lord- I haven't posted in forever, and I have only myself to blame. Moving and settling in took an enormous amount of time and energy, and since the beginning of June, my life has been one big blur of childcare, pregnancy woes, dishes, and laundry.
HOWEVER... the kiddies return to (balanced calendar) school this week -thank the education gods!- and I am going to be looking for a temp job and actually have the time to clean my house for real. Hooray!
HOWEVER... the kiddies return to (balanced calendar) school this week -thank the education gods!- and I am going to be looking for a temp job and actually have the time to clean my house for real. Hooray!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Adventure
I actually found my way into the city yesterday all by my lonesome (with Scott in tow,) and made it to the mall unscathed. Yippee! I bought two shirts at the Motherhood store (because I'm down to only three that fit, and one of those has weird stains on it,) bought us some lunch, and arrived home in one piece. Boo-yah! Today's agenda: getting my driver's license changed, finding a bank (since I have about $1200 in checks I need to pay bills with ad nowhere to cash them,) and calling my car insurance agent to change locations. Oh- and it's also bathroom cleaning/sheets changing day.
Steve continues to struggle at work, and the stress is really getting to him- his sleep patterns are all messed up, and it's driving him crazy. I advised him to stop for a moment and analyze exactly what is getting to him, why, and how he could possibly change things- then advised him to weigh his options, (shift change?) make the necessary adjustments, or start floating his resume- but as of yet, he is unsure of his next step. I support any decision he makes, but I need to know pronto; if he decides R-ton may only be a temporary home, I may home school the kids this year (and I swear God told me Indiana- I just know it!)
And we have been cautiously spreading the news about Seven. Steve's step-daughter, Jess, just found out she is pregnant, and when he told her, she yelled at him (excuse me?) I guess we're due about a month apart (me in January, her in February,) which he and I find hilarious. Are we the only people in the world actually happy about Seven?! Anyway- he also told his parents, (the reaction emotions there were 'shock' and 'disbelief,') which is pretty much the same way they reacted to our engagement. It took them a week to call Steve back and discuss it (our engagement)- cautiously- and I admire their tact and patience. However, he didn't tell them we can't get married yet- not sure how that will go over. Nice way to come into a family, huh?
I must pause a moment here- there is much to be said about Steve's relationship with his parents and such, and I need to get it off my chest. Mr. and Mrs. Simpson are of a much different generation than my parents- they were the Bobby Soxer generation (graduating college and getting married in the mid-fifties,) while my parents are Hippies (who came of age in the mid-to-late sixties.) Bill and Bev have been married for over fifty years, as have all their
family and friends (including Steve's first wife's parents.) My parents are divorced (duh!) as are over half of their siblings and most of their friends- and don't forget many of my cousins, as well. While his parents' generation believed in sexual purity, family, and faith, my parents' generation burned their bras, protested the war in Viet Nam (or got drafted, like my dad,) demanded equality, and started co-habitating in record numbers.
Among Mr. and Mrs. Simpson's children (and those of Kari's family, as well,) divorce is almost unheard of of; Steve and Kari are the only ones divorced. From what I understand, the split really devastated both families, and since Steve was the one who chose to walk away, they hold him completely responsible (nothing like wearing the label of black sheep, huh?) His second marriage was a disaster- had disaster written all over it from day one, though he was probably the only one who didn't see it. He lost his family, his house and possessions, his career (and a very promising career it was, believe me!) and nearly his health over that woman. Can I blame his family for being cautious regarding me?
So now Steve and I are in the position of creating our own life together, with or without the blessing of extended family. My main concern is for my kids and their well-being, and I pray for the strength to provide them an emotionally strong, secure home base wherever we end up. I want them to thrive and have truly blessed lives- period.
Steve continues to struggle at work, and the stress is really getting to him- his sleep patterns are all messed up, and it's driving him crazy. I advised him to stop for a moment and analyze exactly what is getting to him, why, and how he could possibly change things- then advised him to weigh his options, (shift change?) make the necessary adjustments, or start floating his resume- but as of yet, he is unsure of his next step. I support any decision he makes, but I need to know pronto; if he decides R-ton may only be a temporary home, I may home school the kids this year (and I swear God told me Indiana- I just know it!)
And we have been cautiously spreading the news about Seven. Steve's step-daughter, Jess, just found out she is pregnant, and when he told her, she yelled at him (excuse me?) I guess we're due about a month apart (me in January, her in February,) which he and I find hilarious. Are we the only people in the world actually happy about Seven?! Anyway- he also told his parents, (the reaction emotions there were 'shock' and 'disbelief,') which is pretty much the same way they reacted to our engagement. It took them a week to call Steve back and discuss it (our engagement)- cautiously- and I admire their tact and patience. However, he didn't tell them we can't get married yet- not sure how that will go over. Nice way to come into a family, huh?
I must pause a moment here- there is much to be said about Steve's relationship with his parents and such, and I need to get it off my chest. Mr. and Mrs. Simpson are of a much different generation than my parents- they were the Bobby Soxer generation (graduating college and getting married in the mid-fifties,) while my parents are Hippies (who came of age in the mid-to-late sixties.) Bill and Bev have been married for over fifty years, as have all their
family and friends (including Steve's first wife's parents.) My parents are divorced (duh!) as are over half of their siblings and most of their friends- and don't forget many of my cousins, as well. While his parents' generation believed in sexual purity, family, and faith, my parents' generation burned their bras, protested the war in Viet Nam (or got drafted, like my dad,) demanded equality, and started co-habitating in record numbers.
Among Mr. and Mrs. Simpson's children (and those of Kari's family, as well,) divorce is almost unheard of of; Steve and Kari are the only ones divorced. From what I understand, the split really devastated both families, and since Steve was the one who chose to walk away, they hold him completely responsible (nothing like wearing the label of black sheep, huh?) His second marriage was a disaster- had disaster written all over it from day one, though he was probably the only one who didn't see it. He lost his family, his house and possessions, his career (and a very promising career it was, believe me!) and nearly his health over that woman. Can I blame his family for being cautious regarding me?
So now Steve and I are in the position of creating our own life together, with or without the blessing of extended family. My main concern is for my kids and their well-being, and I pray for the strength to provide them an emotionally strong, secure home base wherever we end up. I want them to thrive and have truly blessed lives- period.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Sunnier Every Day!
Actually, it hasn't been- it has rained for freaking eternity, and when it isn't raining, it's disgustingly hot and muggy. NOT my favorite kind of weather- and my hair is a bonafide disaster. However, not knowing any stylists in the area, I guess I put up with the frizzy mop for a little while longer (and no, extra conditioner, straightening balm, straightening spray, and my ceramic straightening iron don't do much of anything...)
However there are a few tiny rays of light on my horizon, and I shall share them as follows:
1.) My first prenatal went swimmingly, and I even got to experience a tiny glimpse of Seven when the practitioner couldn't find a heart beat (and I freaked out a little.) All is well, heartbeat and all- kinda looks like a thumb with arm-and-leg buds- I was just 8 1/2 weeks instead of 9 1/2 weeks. Not out of the woods yet, by any means, especially being an 'older mother' this time around. But I did learn that I may get to skate by with a scheduled c-section this time around (due to my previous coochie surgery,) and I also get to look at Seven much more often than my other four since I am so OLD, and OLD mothers are considered high risk.
2.) The kids are with their dad for the next nine days or so, visiting his family in the Carolinas. Well, the youngest three, anyway. JA wheedled his way into staying with his grandparents under the guise of 'helping out' since Gpa Marv is having surgery Thursday. Helping. Yeah. Right. What this really means for him is limited supervision, free access to the computer, cell phone 24/7 (which his dad was supposed to take from him when he failed two more classes this past semester,) and the opportunity to run and play with his friends and girlfriend without any responsibilities or accountability. I was LIVID- and when his dad and I discussed possible ways to handle the situation, Troy COPPED OUT. He didn't want to spend the time or money to bring him back to me (where he would immediately be getting a job, since he swore the reason he had not yet looked was because of his planned 'vacation' out East,) he did not want the trouble of taking him with him out East (since apparently he cannot handle him along with the other three,) and he wussed out by not taking the phone or setting any ground rules when he left him at Gma's because that would've caused more grief between him and his family (who are barely speaking to him now over the whole situation- they can't believe Troy would be so cruel as to make rational decisions regarding his son and his son's potential future, instead of giving him free reign to F**k up his life any further.)
Can you tell I'm honked?
3.) Steve and I picked up Scott yesterday at the airport- fun awaits.
I'll be back.
However there are a few tiny rays of light on my horizon, and I shall share them as follows:
1.) My first prenatal went swimmingly, and I even got to experience a tiny glimpse of Seven when the practitioner couldn't find a heart beat (and I freaked out a little.) All is well, heartbeat and all- kinda looks like a thumb with arm-and-leg buds- I was just 8 1/2 weeks instead of 9 1/2 weeks. Not out of the woods yet, by any means, especially being an 'older mother' this time around. But I did learn that I may get to skate by with a scheduled c-section this time around (due to my previous coochie surgery,) and I also get to look at Seven much more often than my other four since I am so OLD, and OLD mothers are considered high risk.
2.) The kids are with their dad for the next nine days or so, visiting his family in the Carolinas. Well, the youngest three, anyway. JA wheedled his way into staying with his grandparents under the guise of 'helping out' since Gpa Marv is having surgery Thursday. Helping. Yeah. Right. What this really means for him is limited supervision, free access to the computer, cell phone 24/7 (which his dad was supposed to take from him when he failed two more classes this past semester,) and the opportunity to run and play with his friends and girlfriend without any responsibilities or accountability. I was LIVID- and when his dad and I discussed possible ways to handle the situation, Troy COPPED OUT. He didn't want to spend the time or money to bring him back to me (where he would immediately be getting a job, since he swore the reason he had not yet looked was because of his planned 'vacation' out East,) he did not want the trouble of taking him with him out East (since apparently he cannot handle him along with the other three,) and he wussed out by not taking the phone or setting any ground rules when he left him at Gma's because that would've caused more grief between him and his family (who are barely speaking to him now over the whole situation- they can't believe Troy would be so cruel as to make rational decisions regarding his son and his son's potential future, instead of giving him free reign to F**k up his life any further.)
Can you tell I'm honked?
3.) Steve and I picked up Scott yesterday at the airport- fun awaits.
I'll be back.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Glitch- Yet Again
So my first prenatal appointment is Friday at 8:30 in the morning in CMI (now an hour and a half away.) In order to get there in time, I must depart at the ungodly hour of 7 am and leave my three youngest in the care of their older brother, JA, for what promises to be a morning of mishap and mayhem. Not smart, ay? So I decided to call the Ex's health plan to obtain a provider closer to home, not only for myself, but for the kids as well.
Of course, dealing with insurance plans and rules & regulations, this could not POSSIBLY be a simple task, right? I was informed by the not-so-courteous customer service rep on the other end of the line that, in order to obtain new providers in this area, the Ex must have his HR office fax over a copy of the court order stating he must provide said insurance, then we will not be able to have coverage over here until the first of next month.
Freaking wonderful.
So I guess I make my trek Friday. Great. Just what I need.
Of course, dealing with insurance plans and rules & regulations, this could not POSSIBLY be a simple task, right? I was informed by the not-so-courteous customer service rep on the other end of the line that, in order to obtain new providers in this area, the Ex must have his HR office fax over a copy of the court order stating he must provide said insurance, then we will not be able to have coverage over here until the first of next month.
Freaking wonderful.
So I guess I make my trek Friday. Great. Just what I need.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Drama, Springer Style!
Friday's court date was a complete bust: I arrived at Derek's office (he seems to be fully recovered from his pulmonary embolism, thank God,) dressed-up, face fully made up, ready for business- only to be told that I was not going to be required in court that morning. He and Lia (Troy's lawyer,) had already met with the judge in chambers, and he had denied our petition since I am pregnant. I have to wait until after the baby is born for a paternity test before we can obtain our divorce.
WTF?!!!
Okay. Let's look at the facts here: Troy and I have been separated for over a year; we have not been 'intimate' for nearly two years; and HE HAS HAD A VASECTOMY!!! I could yell. I could cry. I could rage at the injustice of it all. But the judge has spoken. Guess we wait til February.
In the meantime, Steve is freaking out. How can he explain this to his parents? Not only is his girlfriend pregnant, but we can't get married cuz I can't get divorced. Niiiiiice. This should go over well. And how can I explain this to my (younger) kids?
On the plus side, I will continue to be covered under Troy's insurance, so getting my own or getting on Steve's is not an issue. And I know I am not the first woman to go through this.
But oh Lord- what a tangled web we weave!
WTF?!!!
Okay. Let's look at the facts here: Troy and I have been separated for over a year; we have not been 'intimate' for nearly two years; and HE HAS HAD A VASECTOMY!!! I could yell. I could cry. I could rage at the injustice of it all. But the judge has spoken. Guess we wait til February.
In the meantime, Steve is freaking out. How can he explain this to his parents? Not only is his girlfriend pregnant, but we can't get married cuz I can't get divorced. Niiiiiice. This should go over well. And how can I explain this to my (younger) kids?
On the plus side, I will continue to be covered under Troy's insurance, so getting my own or getting on Steve's is not an issue. And I know I am not the first woman to go through this.
But oh Lord- what a tangled web we weave!
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Freaking Unreal
Yesterday, I received another bit of news that rocked my world and actually had me bawling my eyes out in the Y: acouple I know, who have been married for 20 years this July, are calling it quits.
But this is no ordinary couple. I dated the Husband in high school- he was my First Love (Lord, how young and stupid I was!) whom I hadn't seen since I was a tender lass of 15... then reuinited with him and his wife (the girl he broke up with me for!) when I began attending New Life, which happened to be their church, too. He was my oldest son's youth pastor for several years, and a darned good one at that; I came respect him, and to both love and admire his wife. They were an exceptional, blessed couple with three exceptional, blessed kids, the youngest of whom (Jenna Rose) I secretly picked out to be JJ's future wife.
Then Jenna Rose got leukemia. She fought it off and on from the age of four to the age of nine.
The last October, Jenna lost the battle.
This devatsated the family, and from what I understand, ultimately tore her parents apart- though I know from experience that any marriage break-up cannot possibly be so simplistically explained. I am heart-broken for them, just sick.
But this is no ordinary couple. I dated the Husband in high school- he was my First Love (Lord, how young and stupid I was!) whom I hadn't seen since I was a tender lass of 15... then reuinited with him and his wife (the girl he broke up with me for!) when I began attending New Life, which happened to be their church, too. He was my oldest son's youth pastor for several years, and a darned good one at that; I came respect him, and to both love and admire his wife. They were an exceptional, blessed couple with three exceptional, blessed kids, the youngest of whom (Jenna Rose) I secretly picked out to be JJ's future wife.
Then Jenna Rose got leukemia. She fought it off and on from the age of four to the age of nine.
The last October, Jenna lost the battle.
This devatsated the family, and from what I understand, ultimately tore her parents apart- though I know from experience that any marriage break-up cannot possibly be so simplistically explained. I am heart-broken for them, just sick.
For Real
Pardon me for not posting for awhile, but in the past two weeks my drama has seriously intensified on a global scale. Allow me to explain.
Here I am, minding my own business, working, parenting, working out, and otherwise enjoying myself as an (almost) single Mommy- you know, the MILFy kind of Mom who enjoys her kids, but also enjoys her job, a good margarita and getting nekkid with her main man on a regular basis. I am planning my move (nine days and counting!) getting the house organized, trying to figure a way to work, parent, and go to school for the next two-to-four years, when.. BAM!!
Fate threw me a serious curveball.
Yes, folks: I am knocked up.
And not yet officially divorced (court date tomorrow.)
And thirty-freaking-seven.
And scared shitless.
Steve and I were both Kodak-moment shocked when we found out. I had 'peed on a stick' a week earlier with negative results- I figured my elevated stress level had disrupted my period, so I didn't worry about it much. Then, when Mother Nature tarried yet another week, I bought another stick, and low and behold: it was positive! But only for about two minutes, then faded off!
As a mother of four who has been pregnant five times (I lost one in '95,) I can assure you I KNOW my EPT's. I am intimately acquainted with the at-home pregnancy test industries in ways most women never dream of being. So Steve ran out and bought me two more (name-brand this time, though generic have always worked before.) These turned positive immediately. After showing them to him, I told him to bend over so I could stick them somewhere!!! (This has been a running joke between us for about a year: if he gets me pregnant, I get to stick the test up his... posterior. It was funny then- not so funny now.)
So. I guess my due date is January 6th, though I will be advocating strongly for a scheduled c-section New Year's Eve, providing all goes well and according to plan. I can laugh about this now- and, as Steve said, we'll just go with it, enjoy it, and live life just like everybody else- but we certainly weren't laughing two weeks ago.
Oh. And we call the baby 'Seven'- since this will be #7 between us.
Here I am, minding my own business, working, parenting, working out, and otherwise enjoying myself as an (almost) single Mommy- you know, the MILFy kind of Mom who enjoys her kids, but also enjoys her job, a good margarita and getting nekkid with her main man on a regular basis. I am planning my move (nine days and counting!) getting the house organized, trying to figure a way to work, parent, and go to school for the next two-to-four years, when.. BAM!!
Fate threw me a serious curveball.
Yes, folks: I am knocked up.
And not yet officially divorced (court date tomorrow.)
And thirty-freaking-seven.
And scared shitless.
Steve and I were both Kodak-moment shocked when we found out. I had 'peed on a stick' a week earlier with negative results- I figured my elevated stress level had disrupted my period, so I didn't worry about it much. Then, when Mother Nature tarried yet another week, I bought another stick, and low and behold: it was positive! But only for about two minutes, then faded off!
As a mother of four who has been pregnant five times (I lost one in '95,) I can assure you I KNOW my EPT's. I am intimately acquainted with the at-home pregnancy test industries in ways most women never dream of being. So Steve ran out and bought me two more (name-brand this time, though generic have always worked before.) These turned positive immediately. After showing them to him, I told him to bend over so I could stick them somewhere!!! (This has been a running joke between us for about a year: if he gets me pregnant, I get to stick the test up his... posterior. It was funny then- not so funny now.)
So. I guess my due date is January 6th, though I will be advocating strongly for a scheduled c-section New Year's Eve, providing all goes well and according to plan. I can laugh about this now- and, as Steve said, we'll just go with it, enjoy it, and live life just like everybody else- but we certainly weren't laughing two weeks ago.
Oh. And we call the baby 'Seven'- since this will be #7 between us.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Spacey
I cannot seem to concentrate on anything today- it has been one long petite-mal seizure, so to speak. I have so much on my mind, so much to do, and so many offensive personalities to deal with (ah, office joys!) I can barely remain coherent. Very frustrating.
And the next few days are going to be a blur of work, working out, shopping (not the fun kind,) and preparing for this coming week end. Steve has to work Saturday 5-11, so we weren't even going to plan to see each other- until I decided I would high-tail it over to S-field with the kids (it IS Mother's Day week-end, after all.) They are pretty excited to stay two nights in their new home and meet all the neighborhood kids, and if all goes as planned, they will also be getting their new bikes to ride. Then, of course, Steve asked if I wanted to bring Abby, as well- and why not? So, if Sasquatch agrees, I will be taking a lovely 2-hour trip with five kids Friday.
What was I thinking?
Anyway, I guess all will be well; I just have to find a way to keep them entertained on the way.
Prozac, anyone?
And the next few days are going to be a blur of work, working out, shopping (not the fun kind,) and preparing for this coming week end. Steve has to work Saturday 5-11, so we weren't even going to plan to see each other- until I decided I would high-tail it over to S-field with the kids (it IS Mother's Day week-end, after all.) They are pretty excited to stay two nights in their new home and meet all the neighborhood kids, and if all goes as planned, they will also be getting their new bikes to ride. Then, of course, Steve asked if I wanted to bring Abby, as well- and why not? So, if Sasquatch agrees, I will be taking a lovely 2-hour trip with five kids Friday.
What was I thinking?
Anyway, I guess all will be well; I just have to find a way to keep them entertained on the way.
Prozac, anyone?
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Crisis Averted
Au contraire! It seems as if ex-wife #2 is so happy to be rid of her daughter (Abby) that she will even tolerate her former meal ticket's new (younger, thinner, hotter) woman to pick her up without incident! Actually I called Sasquatch when I left CVS and tried to make a little funny about calling her later for additional directions... after all, I joked, I am the only person I know who has actually been lost in Ridgefarm! (A little V-county humor there.) Silence on the other end, then a few choked out pleasantries.... In the words of Sunny J's little sister: humor dies hard.
I arrived without incident- to find Abby and the new squeeze's kids in the front yard, but no sign of mom. I got out to help Abby get her stuff in my van, when from across the street walks Ms Pretty Princess herself, already 1/2 drunk and carrying two fresh beers in one hand. Seems she recently gotten screwed by her heating/air conditioning contractor for almost $900 and needed the beers to 'de-stress;' judging by her inebriated state, I would say the destressing had already begun earlier that day.
And will you allow me a single snarky moment to say DAYUM! Girl looks rode hard and put away wet. Rough in the face, broad-shouldered (with the giant fake boobs everyone- friend, foe, and barfly alike- in Western Indiana has seen on occasion!) and apple-shaped. Wrinkly knees, hatchet nose, and big-boned. THIS is what every man in the twin-county area has been supposedly panting after? I beg to differ- unless they were under the influence of a very strong pair of beer goggles. I dunno- I'm not a guy- but maybe she looks good in the dark. With lots of smoke. And alcohol.
More later.
I arrived without incident- to find Abby and the new squeeze's kids in the front yard, but no sign of mom. I got out to help Abby get her stuff in my van, when from across the street walks Ms Pretty Princess herself, already 1/2 drunk and carrying two fresh beers in one hand. Seems she recently gotten screwed by her heating/air conditioning contractor for almost $900 and needed the beers to 'de-stress;' judging by her inebriated state, I would say the destressing had already begun earlier that day.
And will you allow me a single snarky moment to say DAYUM! Girl looks rode hard and put away wet. Rough in the face, broad-shouldered (with the giant fake boobs everyone- friend, foe, and barfly alike- in Western Indiana has seen on occasion!) and apple-shaped. Wrinkly knees, hatchet nose, and big-boned. THIS is what every man in the twin-county area has been supposedly panting after? I beg to differ- unless they were under the influence of a very strong pair of beer goggles. I dunno- I'm not a guy- but maybe she looks good in the dark. With lots of smoke. And alcohol.
More later.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
I Smell A Rat
So tomorrow I will be getting off work, stopping by CVS for some toiletries, then off to S/L to pick up Steve's daughter, Abby, for the first time without him. This was a big decision- should I or shouldn't I? What kind of drama would await me? Would there be repercussions?
But no; 'Mom' says that would be great, even suggested Steve give me her (Jason's) number so i can call when I am getting close.
Generous of her.
I smell a rat.
But no; 'Mom' says that would be great, even suggested Steve give me her (Jason's) number so i can call when I am getting close.
Generous of her.
I smell a rat.
Killing Me Softly
I wish I had some astoundingly joyous news to post. Or at least something retchingly sensational, complete with graphic pictures. A fire, a natural distaster, a car crash (please let it be the red SUV with 'TAWNEY' on the license plates who never drives over fifty-freaking-five in the passsing lane! Please!) A police chase, a mugging, hell, even a dog fight would do... anything.
But I don't. Just one small, depressing piece of news: my lawyer, Mr Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, Younger-Than-Forty, is in the hospital with a pulmonary embolism.
And I have a very important court date at the end of the month, damn it!
Would it be rude and/or tacky to call his office to ask who will be handling my case in the even Mr. TD&H (or, actually, Mr. G) remains hospitalized or, God forbids, actually croaks?
Just askin'.
But I don't. Just one small, depressing piece of news: my lawyer, Mr Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, Younger-Than-Forty, is in the hospital with a pulmonary embolism.
And I have a very important court date at the end of the month, damn it!
Would it be rude and/or tacky to call his office to ask who will be handling my case in the even Mr. TD&H (or, actually, Mr. G) remains hospitalized or, God forbids, actually croaks?
Just askin'.
Monday, April 28, 2008
All the News That's Fit to Print (I mean, Post!)
Life is just moving along at break-neck speed. I must first apologise to Kara for the delay in pix- I have installed the software to download my photos, but it just doesn't seem to want to complete the process. Stupid electronics! CURSE YOU, YOU TRANSISTORIZED TORMENTOR! I assure you the pictures are well worth the wait, but apologise for the wait, nonetheless.
Moving on...
Court is not until May-the-fricking 23rd, the day I wanted to have my moving/garage sale. Fark! A far cry from the ten days my lawyer promised. Oh, well, what does he know? The only sticking point seems to be the retirement, so we'll let the judge sort it out. Other than that, I plan to be gone by June 1st, and not a minute too soon. This past week-end, Steve and I moved enough furniture into the duplex to keep him comfy til I get there along with anything non-essential I could pack, and made a day of it. One house down there are three boys about the same ages as JA, JJ, and JE (they were playing basketball in the rain- go figure!) and across the street are some little girls about Baby G's age. Perfect.
And the icing on my Happy-Cake? Steve's head-hunter, Mr. P, called him last week and told him his new employer is THRILLED to have him with the company and would like to know if he could recommend someone for another position coming open??? Steve immediately thought of my friend Lori's hubby, Mike (since Lori grew up in S--field and has made no secret of the fact that she would love to move back.) A few phone calls later (to ascertain Mike's education level and experience) and Mr. P was begging the guy for a resume and references. Here's hoping! This would make my move complete!!! (And Lori is a great networker; she is social and fun, and the two of us could be dangerously happy living in the same town. And our kids are great friends!)
And, to top off my Happy-Cake: gov't rebate money should start being deposited today by ss#; Troy's ss# will be one of the first to get the $. Can you say CHA-CHING? (I feel a shopping spree coming on- household items, of course... and mama needs a new pair of shoes!)
Later...
Moving on...
Court is not until May-the-fricking 23rd, the day I wanted to have my moving/garage sale. Fark! A far cry from the ten days my lawyer promised. Oh, well, what does he know? The only sticking point seems to be the retirement, so we'll let the judge sort it out. Other than that, I plan to be gone by June 1st, and not a minute too soon. This past week-end, Steve and I moved enough furniture into the duplex to keep him comfy til I get there along with anything non-essential I could pack, and made a day of it. One house down there are three boys about the same ages as JA, JJ, and JE (they were playing basketball in the rain- go figure!) and across the street are some little girls about Baby G's age. Perfect.
And the icing on my Happy-Cake? Steve's head-hunter, Mr. P, called him last week and told him his new employer is THRILLED to have him with the company and would like to know if he could recommend someone for another position coming open??? Steve immediately thought of my friend Lori's hubby, Mike (since Lori grew up in S--field and has made no secret of the fact that she would love to move back.) A few phone calls later (to ascertain Mike's education level and experience) and Mr. P was begging the guy for a resume and references. Here's hoping! This would make my move complete!!! (And Lori is a great networker; she is social and fun, and the two of us could be dangerously happy living in the same town. And our kids are great friends!)
And, to top off my Happy-Cake: gov't rebate money should start being deposited today by ss#; Troy's ss# will be one of the first to get the $. Can you say CHA-CHING? (I feel a shopping spree coming on- household items, of course... and mama needs a new pair of shoes!)
Later...
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Counting the Days
Meeting with the attorney today. Maybe we can get this show on the road now. I would at least like to have my grounds hearing before leaving town!
This week end we will probably be moving some stuff over the duplex, including a bed for Steve (JA's,) and at least a chair and a TV. the kids are pretty excited to visit their new home, and I guess we'll just make a day of it. And hopefully get some pix to post.
This week end we will probably be moving some stuff over the duplex, including a bed for Steve (JA's,) and at least a chair and a TV. the kids are pretty excited to visit their new home, and I guess we'll just make a day of it. And hopefully get some pix to post.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Falling Out
Drama! Can I not have a week where I don't feel the rug has been pulled out from under my feet?!
Let's begin with last week-end, shall we?
It was my week-end to have the kids, and Steve arrived Friday night with Abigail in tow, ready for a couple days of fun and frolic (ha!) I fed the kids and then left the younger three in Steve's capable hands while JA, Troy and I had had a pow-wow. Over all, it was successful, but my stomach was really griping me. I thought it was nerves.
I was wrong.
About 11:30 pm, I began what turned out to be nearly 24 hours of pure hell, beginning with projectile vomiting and progressing to the worst migraine of my life, complete with excruciating neck, back, sciatic, and leg pain.
Steve was a trooper- he got the kids up and ready the next morning (after having taken care of me all night,) got them loaded into my mom's car for an outing with her, cleaned up the house, and tried to contact Abby's mom to get her out of the sick-house and back home (which didn't happen until some time later.)
In the meantime, I called Troy and asked him to take the kids for the remainder of the week-end, and he agreed; Mom would get the kids' stuff and take them over to his house soon as they got back from their outing. Steve put together their basket of clothes as best he could, and we waited. Long story short: Mom arrived with JJ, and when JJ walked into the house, he copped a giant attitude and said to Steve: "Why is Abby still here? What are you- stupid?"
Now understand, the week-end before this, JJ had called Steve a MF'er on the phone and told him to suck his balls (Thank you, JA and South Park!) He thought he was being funny, but Steve wasn't laughing; he let JJ know that he was never to call him that again or (and I quote) "...your ass is mine!"
So the 'stupid' comment hit Steve the wrong way. He grabbed JJ by the shoulder and flipped him around to face him, telling him, "Don't you ever call me stupid again, young man!" and stared him down. Steve let JJ know he meant business, and I heartily agree with his method; Steve is a patient man, and JJ seriously needed an attitude adjustment. Bravo- we are all going to be under the same roof soon, and if Steve does not command respect now, then our home life could be hell.
However (and there is always a 'however' in my life, isn't there?) my mother had a CONNIPTION over this. More on that later...
Ultimately, because of my condition, I ended up taking a ride in an ambulance to the hospital where they poked me with needles, hooked me up to an IV, and (much later) gave me some lovely drugs. After getting me into the ambulance, Steve called Mom to let her know what was happening, then headed over to S- L- and had to hunt down Abby's mother. Mom ended up getting to the hospital ahead of Steve, and from the time she got there until Steve arrived, she took the opportunity to rip me up one side and down the other about Steve.
Mind you, during her tirade, I was curled up in the fetal position on a cot in triage, dry-heaving and praying to God to let me pass out from the pain in my head and back. Even just lying there was murder- there was no position without pain, and I couldn't keep down any medication whatsoever. So she blasted me again and again, telling me what a nasty bastard Steve is, how he treats me like sh*t, how he treats my children like sh*t, etc, etc. The woman has been around him four times, during which Steve has been nothing but good to us (as always), and she comes up with this garbage.
I know, I know- she isn't 'right'; she has issues and needs help, but refuses to get it. She is schitzophrenic, and this is just part of her disease. She has no internal stops, no discernment, and on top of that, she is bitter and hateful. I know. But there is no excuse for her behavior.
But I digress.
After Steve arrived, she stifled her attack on him, but proceeded to verbally damn everyone and everything else in her life, especially my dad and my step-mom. Steve's eyes were huge with disbelief as she growled how she can't wait to see them both dead, that they would do the world a favor if they both would just die, since they don't deserve to live. It would take a month to repeat all the poison she was spouting- and with me lying there in agony, trying not to puke or even move! I gave deflecting answers and comments in response when I could- keeping calm, remembering who is the sane one between us. But to no avail. Unable to rile me, her attacks became personal- how she wished she had left my dad in 1969, then she wouldn't have ever had any G-D kids, she would have married for money and had a great life, and on and on and on... then she started on JA coming to live with me instead of staying in O'town.
Basically, she believes Troy copped out (and he probably did.) If she could, she spat, she would move to O-town herself and let JA live with her. (Fat chance!) I told her this was a parental decision, and that JA's own actions had led to this decision- namely him flunking out of school and fornicating on my bed! That really set her off- "Well, what were you doing at 16?" she asked; "Funny how what goes around comes around!"
"At 16?" I asked. "I was celibate that year," I said quietly.
"Oh, I forgot- that was the year before," she replied. "Oops! Maybe I shouldn't have said that," she added mockingly.
"There isn't anything Steve doesn't know about me," I shot back, "so you won't shock him. And this my kid, no me; I care too much about him to stand back and let him screw up his life like I could have. He's too smart for that, and I don't want him to waste his brains."
She wasn't finished. "Yeah, the one who had all the ability, all the brains, the one to whom everything came so easily, and you blew it!" she said. "And your sister, who had to work so hard for it, is the one with the Master's Degree!"
By this time, the meds they had given me were kicking in, and my pain was subsiding. And I was getting pissed. "And now she is $60,000 in debt to student loans and she's married to Creighton!" I shot back. Touche. Silently I added: $60,000 my 'worthless' dad cosigned for and is now ruining his credit. And she's a closeted lesbian, on top of being a condescending, mercenary, social-climbing snob. Teaching in a school she hates and unable to quit because their lifestyle demands it.
She left shortly thereafter. Steve took care of me the rest of the night and into the next day until he had to leave for home, then she called me that night and started in on me again. Digging up dirt from my past and flinging it at me, questioning my perceptions and sanity, pegging me for every 'wrong-doing' she could remember. I had had enough- I finally told her she needed help and hung up on her.
I haven't heard from her since, and I don't expect to.
JJ knows a little of it, but not much- my mother has always considered JJ her kid, and has used him on many occasions to try to get back at my dad, and at me, for not choosing sides between my parents. She has told him things about her life, about my dad, and about other stuff no kid should ever have to know (going specifically against my wishes- a kid does not need to know the gory details about his grandparents' or parents' divorce; it only hurts the kid, but she is too wacko to understand this.) I have made parental decisions- the best decisions I know how to make, keeping my kids' interests and well-being paramount- but she does not feel the need to respect these decisions. In fact, it is her delight to cause as much trouble and discord as she can!
I'm done. And if the rest of my family cannot understand this, it is their problem, not mine.
Enough!
Let's begin with last week-end, shall we?
It was my week-end to have the kids, and Steve arrived Friday night with Abigail in tow, ready for a couple days of fun and frolic (ha!) I fed the kids and then left the younger three in Steve's capable hands while JA, Troy and I had had a pow-wow. Over all, it was successful, but my stomach was really griping me. I thought it was nerves.
I was wrong.
About 11:30 pm, I began what turned out to be nearly 24 hours of pure hell, beginning with projectile vomiting and progressing to the worst migraine of my life, complete with excruciating neck, back, sciatic, and leg pain.
Steve was a trooper- he got the kids up and ready the next morning (after having taken care of me all night,) got them loaded into my mom's car for an outing with her, cleaned up the house, and tried to contact Abby's mom to get her out of the sick-house and back home (which didn't happen until some time later.)
In the meantime, I called Troy and asked him to take the kids for the remainder of the week-end, and he agreed; Mom would get the kids' stuff and take them over to his house soon as they got back from their outing. Steve put together their basket of clothes as best he could, and we waited. Long story short: Mom arrived with JJ, and when JJ walked into the house, he copped a giant attitude and said to Steve: "Why is Abby still here? What are you- stupid?"
Now understand, the week-end before this, JJ had called Steve a MF'er on the phone and told him to suck his balls (Thank you, JA and South Park!) He thought he was being funny, but Steve wasn't laughing; he let JJ know that he was never to call him that again or (and I quote) "...your ass is mine!"
So the 'stupid' comment hit Steve the wrong way. He grabbed JJ by the shoulder and flipped him around to face him, telling him, "Don't you ever call me stupid again, young man!" and stared him down. Steve let JJ know he meant business, and I heartily agree with his method; Steve is a patient man, and JJ seriously needed an attitude adjustment. Bravo- we are all going to be under the same roof soon, and if Steve does not command respect now, then our home life could be hell.
However (and there is always a 'however' in my life, isn't there?) my mother had a CONNIPTION over this. More on that later...
Ultimately, because of my condition, I ended up taking a ride in an ambulance to the hospital where they poked me with needles, hooked me up to an IV, and (much later) gave me some lovely drugs. After getting me into the ambulance, Steve called Mom to let her know what was happening, then headed over to S- L- and had to hunt down Abby's mother. Mom ended up getting to the hospital ahead of Steve, and from the time she got there until Steve arrived, she took the opportunity to rip me up one side and down the other about Steve.
Mind you, during her tirade, I was curled up in the fetal position on a cot in triage, dry-heaving and praying to God to let me pass out from the pain in my head and back. Even just lying there was murder- there was no position without pain, and I couldn't keep down any medication whatsoever. So she blasted me again and again, telling me what a nasty bastard Steve is, how he treats me like sh*t, how he treats my children like sh*t, etc, etc. The woman has been around him four times, during which Steve has been nothing but good to us (as always), and she comes up with this garbage.
I know, I know- she isn't 'right'; she has issues and needs help, but refuses to get it. She is schitzophrenic, and this is just part of her disease. She has no internal stops, no discernment, and on top of that, she is bitter and hateful. I know. But there is no excuse for her behavior.
But I digress.
After Steve arrived, she stifled her attack on him, but proceeded to verbally damn everyone and everything else in her life, especially my dad and my step-mom. Steve's eyes were huge with disbelief as she growled how she can't wait to see them both dead, that they would do the world a favor if they both would just die, since they don't deserve to live. It would take a month to repeat all the poison she was spouting- and with me lying there in agony, trying not to puke or even move! I gave deflecting answers and comments in response when I could- keeping calm, remembering who is the sane one between us. But to no avail. Unable to rile me, her attacks became personal- how she wished she had left my dad in 1969, then she wouldn't have ever had any G-D kids, she would have married for money and had a great life, and on and on and on... then she started on JA coming to live with me instead of staying in O'town.
Basically, she believes Troy copped out (and he probably did.) If she could, she spat, she would move to O-town herself and let JA live with her. (Fat chance!) I told her this was a parental decision, and that JA's own actions had led to this decision- namely him flunking out of school and fornicating on my bed! That really set her off- "Well, what were you doing at 16?" she asked; "Funny how what goes around comes around!"
"At 16?" I asked. "I was celibate that year," I said quietly.
"Oh, I forgot- that was the year before," she replied. "Oops! Maybe I shouldn't have said that," she added mockingly.
"There isn't anything Steve doesn't know about me," I shot back, "so you won't shock him. And this my kid, no me; I care too much about him to stand back and let him screw up his life like I could have. He's too smart for that, and I don't want him to waste his brains."
She wasn't finished. "Yeah, the one who had all the ability, all the brains, the one to whom everything came so easily, and you blew it!" she said. "And your sister, who had to work so hard for it, is the one with the Master's Degree!"
By this time, the meds they had given me were kicking in, and my pain was subsiding. And I was getting pissed. "And now she is $60,000 in debt to student loans and she's married to Creighton!" I shot back. Touche. Silently I added: $60,000 my 'worthless' dad cosigned for and is now ruining his credit. And she's a closeted lesbian, on top of being a condescending, mercenary, social-climbing snob. Teaching in a school she hates and unable to quit because their lifestyle demands it.
She left shortly thereafter. Steve took care of me the rest of the night and into the next day until he had to leave for home, then she called me that night and started in on me again. Digging up dirt from my past and flinging it at me, questioning my perceptions and sanity, pegging me for every 'wrong-doing' she could remember. I had had enough- I finally told her she needed help and hung up on her.
I haven't heard from her since, and I don't expect to.
JJ knows a little of it, but not much- my mother has always considered JJ her kid, and has used him on many occasions to try to get back at my dad, and at me, for not choosing sides between my parents. She has told him things about her life, about my dad, and about other stuff no kid should ever have to know (going specifically against my wishes- a kid does not need to know the gory details about his grandparents' or parents' divorce; it only hurts the kid, but she is too wacko to understand this.) I have made parental decisions- the best decisions I know how to make, keeping my kids' interests and well-being paramount- but she does not feel the need to respect these decisions. In fact, it is her delight to cause as much trouble and discord as she can!
I'm done. And if the rest of my family cannot understand this, it is their problem, not mine.
Enough!
Did I STUTTER?
What part of 'No' does JA not understand? Since bringing home his atrocious grades in January, he has been on a very short leash. He is not allowed to go anywhere with the girlfriend and/or her family (not even to their church!) and he has had limited freedom in every other area. And Troy and I decided no Prom, either; when one screws up on such a monumental scale, the punishment should fit the crime, and this was a big time screw up in my book!
However, I think the kid's selective hearing must be in high gear, because the no-Prom thing just hasn't seemed to hit home yet. Last week he comes to me saying Katie's family has offered to pay for his part of Prom night, including buying the ticket, renting his tux, dinner- the whole nine yards. As if money was the issue! No beans- no Prom, JA! Then a few days ago, he shoved a permission slip for post-prom at me to sign, and I had to repeat myself: Prom was out of the picture.
Am I missing something here?
Then he goes to his dad, contrite and humble, telling him that is just isn't fair to Katie that he messes up what could be her only Prom (since she is graduating early.) And since JA is moving away in June, this could be his send-off, his last hurrah...
Troy refused to comment until he talked to me (wise, but WTF? Can he not say 'No' just as well as I can? The story of our lives- let Mom be the bad guy!) When Troy called me later, I repeated my stance: No Prom. Period. He agreed, but I do not appreciate him making me the heavy in this deal. If we are both equal parents, supposedly on the same page, why can he not get with the program???
For the record, I am not a heartless bitch. Does it pain me that he has to miss out? Yes. Do I feel bad about ruining Katie's evening? Yes. I want JA to enjoy himself in every way a (law-abiding) high school student should. I want him to have great opportunities and experiences and memories of his teen-age years instead of looking back with shame and regret. But if I back down now, next year will be a joke. I want him to know I mean business and that his decisions and actions during the next two years will shape his entire future. If he shows improvement, motivation, and industry, there would be no limit to the freedoms and opportunities I would allow him! But if he continues to screw up, I will work him like a Hebrew slave!
However, I think the kid's selective hearing must be in high gear, because the no-Prom thing just hasn't seemed to hit home yet. Last week he comes to me saying Katie's family has offered to pay for his part of Prom night, including buying the ticket, renting his tux, dinner- the whole nine yards. As if money was the issue! No beans- no Prom, JA! Then a few days ago, he shoved a permission slip for post-prom at me to sign, and I had to repeat myself: Prom was out of the picture.
Am I missing something here?
Then he goes to his dad, contrite and humble, telling him that is just isn't fair to Katie that he messes up what could be her only Prom (since she is graduating early.) And since JA is moving away in June, this could be his send-off, his last hurrah...
Troy refused to comment until he talked to me (wise, but WTF? Can he not say 'No' just as well as I can? The story of our lives- let Mom be the bad guy!) When Troy called me later, I repeated my stance: No Prom. Period. He agreed, but I do not appreciate him making me the heavy in this deal. If we are both equal parents, supposedly on the same page, why can he not get with the program???
For the record, I am not a heartless bitch. Does it pain me that he has to miss out? Yes. Do I feel bad about ruining Katie's evening? Yes. I want JA to enjoy himself in every way a (law-abiding) high school student should. I want him to have great opportunities and experiences and memories of his teen-age years instead of looking back with shame and regret. But if I back down now, next year will be a joke. I want him to know I mean business and that his decisions and actions during the next two years will shape his entire future. If he shows improvement, motivation, and industry, there would be no limit to the freedoms and opportunities I would allow him! But if he continues to screw up, I will work him like a Hebrew slave!
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
JA: A Tale of Immaturity, Teen-age Angst, and Fornication
So. In the midst of the drama that is my life, I must pause for a moment and post a re-cap on the JA situation. Suffice it to say, there are VOLUMES waiting to be written concerning my first born, but I shall try to keep it brief: just the facts, ma'am.
I'll preface this post by stating the positive: JA is one of the smartest, most amiable, most personable people you will ever meet. There is nothing he can't learn, nothing he can't do- especially academically. And on top of that, he's purdy! I remember when he walked into First Baptist School his fifth grade year and immediately became the Pied Piper (all those staid, straight-laced, repressed church kids must've been overwhelmed by his charm and charisma.) That old maid bitch of a teacher he had didn't take it very well, but it was my opinion she could go f*ck herself (oops! I guess that wasn't a very First Baptist sort of thing to say!)
Anyway, that being said, we all know brains and charm and charisma are wonderful qualities to possess- but they won't do a person a damned bit of good without drive, ambition, and good old fashioned hard work to undergird them. Unfortunately, Josh has gotten the notion that effort & industry are optional... until lately.
When it comes to school work- the most important facet of a kid's life, if he or she does not want to end up working in fast food and living in Mama'a basement- keeping his nose to the grindstone has been an ongoing struggle with JA, especially for the past three years. Like most kids, he ranks his social needs above his academic needs, and has received grades accordingly. This appalled me- MY kid, the one with all the brains, FAILING CLASSES?? I threatened, I bribed, I tried reason- nothing worked. Finally, in 2006, during the time when Troy and I were at our lowest ebb of communication (Oct/Nov) I cornered the kid with his progress report and told him if he brought home anything lower than a C on his report card in January, it would result in a mega-grounding: no phone, no tv, no internet, no friends, no extra-curriculars, no girlfriend, no overnights to grandma's- nothing.
Low and behold, two months later, his report card was a disaster! I shook my head at him and told him he knew the consequences and to go to his room.... only to have his father contradict me when he got home. HE would handle this- HE would check all JA's homework, check his agenda book, do the follow ups... which lasted about two weeks. JA ended up failing a couple classes, then later blamed it on our separation (that's a whole other story...)
Well, this year has been no better, and people (family, friends, my co-workers, EVERYONE,) is getting tired of his 'Poor JA- he has suffered so much! Pity him!' schtick. But he is still playing it to the hilt, and in the meantime, he still thinks he can continue to enjoy himself without putting any effort toward his school work.
Now for the clincher: he is failing three classes yet again, and he probably will not graduate in 2010. Troy and I have talked to him both together and seperatetly, Steve has talked to him, my dad has talked to him- but with no results. So Troy, being so noble and concerned (and wanting to move back in with his grandparents so he can save his money,) has graciously allowed Josh to continue living with me, rather than taking care of him here in O'town, where he was told he could graduate (since, as Troy put it, the only reason JA has given him for staying in O'town is his social life, not his academics.)
Adding to these problems, there is the new girlfriend, who is a year ahead of JA, who will be graduating midterm next year and entering college, and who has been fornicating ON MY BED with him in recent months (and thought she was pregnant not too long ago! Egads! Sex- and unprotected sex at that! Have I taught the kid nothing?!) Does one forbid them from seeing each other? Or does one buy an economy sized box of condoms? Christ, I am only 37- I am not ready to be a grandmother yet!
To put it lightly, this puts me in a bind: Steve and I already signed the lease for the duplex, which really is only big enough to house us and my three youngest. There is room, but it will be tight. And having the four of them in a small space on a daily basis is a recipe for trouble- trust me- the younger three do much better when he is elsewhere (like football practice or church or dad's house.) A busy JA is a JA who does not have time or energy to pick on his siblings.
And Josh is not taking this latest development well: he called Steve and told him there was no way in hell he was going to R-ton; he would use the $4000 Troy's G'ma has in savings for him to emancipate (!) himself, then live with Troy's mom here in O'town (ha! She didn't rasie her own kids!) while going to school and working with my cousin's fiance installing windows and doors for $9/hr. Right. He can't even get his ass to the bus on time on a daily basis, and we live next to the bus stop!
OK. Let's calm down here and think about this. 1.) That $4000 is for his college education; there is no way Ann would take it out now and just give it to him, and even if she did, Troy would not allow it and I would make sure she NEVER saw JA again until he was a legal adult; 2.) No judge is going to emancipate a kid who is failing classes- emancipations are generally only granted when there is a pregnancy involved, (ach!) the situation at home is detrimental to the minor's physical/mental well-being (and that doesnt include parents who ground over grades and missed curfews!) the parents agree to the emancipation, (no way!) and/or the minor has demonstrated an ability to earn a living (not even close.)
To top it off, he has no driver's license. Troy and I will not let him get one until his grades are at a 'B' average- that has been the stipulation since August, and he has not cared enough about driving to do anything about it. End of story.
So. My game plan is this (and his dad has agreed, seeing as he has no game plan of his own and really doesn't give a shit): JA will enter Riverton HS as a Sophomore. This pains me, but sometimes a kid has to suffer the consequences of his actions, and I would rather it be now than later (like jail or homelessness.) If he shows effort and progress, he can get his license after the first nine weeks and maybe get a job (but he has to keep the grades up and stay in some sort of extra-curricular activity- chess team, glee club, Lesbian Pride Team- I don't care- something!) Next summer, I will allow him to take Junior College courses to make up his high school credits and maybe graduate with his class in 2010. If not, he stays in until 2011. End of story.
Good Lord, where does a mother go to resign?!
I'll preface this post by stating the positive: JA is one of the smartest, most amiable, most personable people you will ever meet. There is nothing he can't learn, nothing he can't do- especially academically. And on top of that, he's purdy! I remember when he walked into First Baptist School his fifth grade year and immediately became the Pied Piper (all those staid, straight-laced, repressed church kids must've been overwhelmed by his charm and charisma.) That old maid bitch of a teacher he had didn't take it very well, but it was my opinion she could go f*ck herself (oops! I guess that wasn't a very First Baptist sort of thing to say!)
Anyway, that being said, we all know brains and charm and charisma are wonderful qualities to possess- but they won't do a person a damned bit of good without drive, ambition, and good old fashioned hard work to undergird them. Unfortunately, Josh has gotten the notion that effort & industry are optional... until lately.
When it comes to school work- the most important facet of a kid's life, if he or she does not want to end up working in fast food and living in Mama'a basement- keeping his nose to the grindstone has been an ongoing struggle with JA, especially for the past three years. Like most kids, he ranks his social needs above his academic needs, and has received grades accordingly. This appalled me- MY kid, the one with all the brains, FAILING CLASSES?? I threatened, I bribed, I tried reason- nothing worked. Finally, in 2006, during the time when Troy and I were at our lowest ebb of communication (Oct/Nov) I cornered the kid with his progress report and told him if he brought home anything lower than a C on his report card in January, it would result in a mega-grounding: no phone, no tv, no internet, no friends, no extra-curriculars, no girlfriend, no overnights to grandma's- nothing.
Low and behold, two months later, his report card was a disaster! I shook my head at him and told him he knew the consequences and to go to his room.... only to have his father contradict me when he got home. HE would handle this- HE would check all JA's homework, check his agenda book, do the follow ups... which lasted about two weeks. JA ended up failing a couple classes, then later blamed it on our separation (that's a whole other story...)
Well, this year has been no better, and people (family, friends, my co-workers, EVERYONE,) is getting tired of his 'Poor JA- he has suffered so much! Pity him!' schtick. But he is still playing it to the hilt, and in the meantime, he still thinks he can continue to enjoy himself without putting any effort toward his school work.
Now for the clincher: he is failing three classes yet again, and he probably will not graduate in 2010. Troy and I have talked to him both together and seperatetly, Steve has talked to him, my dad has talked to him- but with no results. So Troy, being so noble and concerned (and wanting to move back in with his grandparents so he can save his money,) has graciously allowed Josh to continue living with me, rather than taking care of him here in O'town, where he was told he could graduate (since, as Troy put it, the only reason JA has given him for staying in O'town is his social life, not his academics.)
Adding to these problems, there is the new girlfriend, who is a year ahead of JA, who will be graduating midterm next year and entering college, and who has been fornicating ON MY BED with him in recent months (and thought she was pregnant not too long ago! Egads! Sex- and unprotected sex at that! Have I taught the kid nothing?!) Does one forbid them from seeing each other? Or does one buy an economy sized box of condoms? Christ, I am only 37- I am not ready to be a grandmother yet!
To put it lightly, this puts me in a bind: Steve and I already signed the lease for the duplex, which really is only big enough to house us and my three youngest. There is room, but it will be tight. And having the four of them in a small space on a daily basis is a recipe for trouble- trust me- the younger three do much better when he is elsewhere (like football practice or church or dad's house.) A busy JA is a JA who does not have time or energy to pick on his siblings.
And Josh is not taking this latest development well: he called Steve and told him there was no way in hell he was going to R-ton; he would use the $4000 Troy's G'ma has in savings for him to emancipate (!) himself, then live with Troy's mom here in O'town (ha! She didn't rasie her own kids!) while going to school and working with my cousin's fiance installing windows and doors for $9/hr. Right. He can't even get his ass to the bus on time on a daily basis, and we live next to the bus stop!
OK. Let's calm down here and think about this. 1.) That $4000 is for his college education; there is no way Ann would take it out now and just give it to him, and even if she did, Troy would not allow it and I would make sure she NEVER saw JA again until he was a legal adult; 2.) No judge is going to emancipate a kid who is failing classes- emancipations are generally only granted when there is a pregnancy involved, (ach!) the situation at home is detrimental to the minor's physical/mental well-being (and that doesnt include parents who ground over grades and missed curfews!) the parents agree to the emancipation, (no way!) and/or the minor has demonstrated an ability to earn a living (not even close.)
To top it off, he has no driver's license. Troy and I will not let him get one until his grades are at a 'B' average- that has been the stipulation since August, and he has not cared enough about driving to do anything about it. End of story.
So. My game plan is this (and his dad has agreed, seeing as he has no game plan of his own and really doesn't give a shit): JA will enter Riverton HS as a Sophomore. This pains me, but sometimes a kid has to suffer the consequences of his actions, and I would rather it be now than later (like jail or homelessness.) If he shows effort and progress, he can get his license after the first nine weeks and maybe get a job (but he has to keep the grades up and stay in some sort of extra-curricular activity- chess team, glee club, Lesbian Pride Team- I don't care- something!) Next summer, I will allow him to take Junior College courses to make up his high school credits and maybe graduate with his class in 2010. If not, he stays in until 2011. End of story.
Good Lord, where does a mother go to resign?!
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Cor Blimey
Where do I start?
First of all- my sincerest apologies to Kara: I bought a new digital camera (in girly pink! complete with a memory stick, too!) and cannot for the life of me figure out how to get it to download into the computer. Rest assured I have some very cute pix of JE and Baby G doing their gymnastics, and will try to get pix of JA and the new squeeze (please see next post!) as well as JJ scowling and looking like his dad.
Second, the lease papers have been signed for the duplex, and in approximately two months' time I will no longer be a resident of V--n County, which has always been a life-long ambition of mine. As stated in a previous post, I am more that thrilled with the new home, the new town (very small- pop 3500- with its own schools, and only 15 minutes to Steve's job and S...field, itself.) Three bedrooms, two full baths, fireplace, 2 car garage, and practically brand-new to boot. However, there is a few dark clouds in every sunny sky...
2A.) This summer I will be full-time mother to all. six. of. our. kids. In a three-bedroom duplex. With no family room. Can you say laundry out the wazoo? Can you say bickering children? Can you say mental ward? I actually woke up in a panic attack over this last night and I could not get back to sleep. I have a hard enough time keeping up with cooking, cleaning, clothing, and refereeing now, as it is. How am I going to be able to manage? Steve and I had a long talk about this today, and we have decided serious household organization and full off-spring participation will be required to pull it off. And occasional full-days off for me. Not to mention weekly margarita date nights.
2B.) It looks as if JA will be living with me, after all. More on that later.
Third, I will be telling my boss tomorrow when I plan on resigning. The kids return to school in July (balanced-calendar- yippee!) and after that I will be deciding whether I return to full-time employment or go back to school full time. I would like to go back to school, and I believe the amount of C/S I will be getting will allow that, but we shall see.
Fourth, Steve and I began cleaning and organizing the house today in preparation for the move. Over the next couple week ends, we will be constantly at work, getting things condensed and ready. Pray for me.
First of all- my sincerest apologies to Kara: I bought a new digital camera (in girly pink! complete with a memory stick, too!) and cannot for the life of me figure out how to get it to download into the computer. Rest assured I have some very cute pix of JE and Baby G doing their gymnastics, and will try to get pix of JA and the new squeeze (please see next post!) as well as JJ scowling and looking like his dad.
Second, the lease papers have been signed for the duplex, and in approximately two months' time I will no longer be a resident of V--n County, which has always been a life-long ambition of mine. As stated in a previous post, I am more that thrilled with the new home, the new town (very small- pop 3500- with its own schools, and only 15 minutes to Steve's job and S...field, itself.) Three bedrooms, two full baths, fireplace, 2 car garage, and practically brand-new to boot. However, there is a few dark clouds in every sunny sky...
2A.) This summer I will be full-time mother to all. six. of. our. kids. In a three-bedroom duplex. With no family room. Can you say laundry out the wazoo? Can you say bickering children? Can you say mental ward? I actually woke up in a panic attack over this last night and I could not get back to sleep. I have a hard enough time keeping up with cooking, cleaning, clothing, and refereeing now, as it is. How am I going to be able to manage? Steve and I had a long talk about this today, and we have decided serious household organization and full off-spring participation will be required to pull it off. And occasional full-days off for me. Not to mention weekly margarita date nights.
2B.) It looks as if JA will be living with me, after all. More on that later.
Third, I will be telling my boss tomorrow when I plan on resigning. The kids return to school in July (balanced-calendar- yippee!) and after that I will be deciding whether I return to full-time employment or go back to school full time. I would like to go back to school, and I believe the amount of C/S I will be getting will allow that, but we shall see.
Fourth, Steve and I began cleaning and organizing the house today in preparation for the move. Over the next couple week ends, we will be constantly at work, getting things condensed and ready. Pray for me.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
New Address
Well. Steve signs the paper for our new home tonight after work, and drops another wad of cash from his bank account (after dropping $650 for brakes yesterday. Ouch!) They will fax the paper over to me to sign, as well, and he will officially take possession April first, though he won't actually be moving in until after May. Guess that gives us time to get our ducks in a row, huh?
More later, and hopefully some pix...
More later, and hopefully some pix...
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The Right to BARE Arms
Just a thought: that wedding dress is sleeveless. Sunny J is going to have to pound the arms and shoulders in the next couple months. Heavy weights. Yippee. Biceps training sucks.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Found
Well, I think we have found a place to live.
Not knowing S--field and the surrounding areas very well, I had been given some recommendations about school districts and the like by several friends and family members. Needless to say, S--field schools were out of the question- too big, too scary, too unpredicable. Private school? Too pricey. C-town and R-ville were mentioned as good possibilities, but we could find no rentals for R-ville, and C-town was WAY out of our price range. (Example: 2 B/R 1020 sq ft condo- or what we call 'buy your own end of a duplex'- $148,900. NOT!) Every rental we checked on was in brand new subdivisions, devoid of trees, grass, or normal people. I saw residents out walking/biking in couture, for God's sake! I don't think my crappy old sweatpants and Old Navy t-shirts would have fit in.
Needless to say, the situation was a little stressful, and on the way old of C-town, I finally blurted out, "Aren't there any regular neighborhoods in this place?!" It was exactly what Steve had been thinking. Not ghetto, not country club- we simply want a decent house in a nice, safe area. Preferably family-friendly. And suburban.
There were several condos/duplexes in our price rangle listed in a small suburb, R-town, so I took a chance and made some calls... and one will do quite nicely. It is a duplex with plenty of space, two full bathrooms, a fireplace, and I could not ask for better as far as the schools and community are concerned. I saw kids out riding bikes, adults doing yardwork, normal houses- a few up-scale subdivisions, but nothing extravagant- and everyone seems very salt-of-the-earth. Now all we have to do is wait for our application to be processed, pay our deposit, and we'll be set.
God willing. Wish I had some pix to post- maybe next time.
Not knowing S--field and the surrounding areas very well, I had been given some recommendations about school districts and the like by several friends and family members. Needless to say, S--field schools were out of the question- too big, too scary, too unpredicable. Private school? Too pricey. C-town and R-ville were mentioned as good possibilities, but we could find no rentals for R-ville, and C-town was WAY out of our price range. (Example: 2 B/R 1020 sq ft condo- or what we call 'buy your own end of a duplex'- $148,900. NOT!) Every rental we checked on was in brand new subdivisions, devoid of trees, grass, or normal people. I saw residents out walking/biking in couture, for God's sake! I don't think my crappy old sweatpants and Old Navy t-shirts would have fit in.
Needless to say, the situation was a little stressful, and on the way old of C-town, I finally blurted out, "Aren't there any regular neighborhoods in this place?!" It was exactly what Steve had been thinking. Not ghetto, not country club- we simply want a decent house in a nice, safe area. Preferably family-friendly. And suburban.
There were several condos/duplexes in our price rangle listed in a small suburb, R-town, so I took a chance and made some calls... and one will do quite nicely. It is a duplex with plenty of space, two full bathrooms, a fireplace, and I could not ask for better as far as the schools and community are concerned. I saw kids out riding bikes, adults doing yardwork, normal houses- a few up-scale subdivisions, but nothing extravagant- and everyone seems very salt-of-the-earth. Now all we have to do is wait for our application to be processed, pay our deposit, and we'll be set.
God willing. Wish I had some pix to post- maybe next time.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Faith and Such
So here I am, making a mental list of all the things I need done by the month of May (since we should technically have the keys to a new house by then, even if I will be unable to move into said house until the kidlets are out of school, closer to the end of May.) I know I need to do Spring cleaning and begin condensing and packing everything that can be packed without disrupting daily life, (come on Spring weather! Clothing is so much easier to box up and store in the basement when one is not between seasons!) I need to research schools and start making appointments to look at houses. I have to make a list of things Steve and I positively must have and absolutely will not tolerate in a home. And on and on and on...
And, of course, I will have to notify friends and family about our relocation, and perhaps have a good cry or two with those closest to me about my impending departure.
Wait.
Most of my family already knows that I will most likely be moving, and the only ones who have expressed an interest in this move have been my dad and step-mom. Since I am moving two hours away, the two of them will most likely be moving south as soon as Dad retires so Pat can be with her kids again, and most importantly, with her new grandson. I have not seen or heard from my sister since October (she's a North-Ender now; she doesn't mingle with O'town trash like me.) And my mom has decided Steve is Satan incarnate, and that my re-marriage and move is tantamount to child abuse. And my friends....?
What friends?
At church, my reception has been chilly at best since last May. People will greet me, but scurry away as quickly as possible, lest they be sullied by my adulterous reputation. Those I felt closest to- with whom I have shared my deepest soul-baring concerns- now dismiss me with a polite nod or even a condescending sneer. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. They forget I know them. Very well. I know all about their porn addictions, their secret lusts, their financial infidelity, their envy and strife; I know about their lies, their sloth, and their gluttony. We have shared these struggles for almost seven years, prayed over them together, and loved each other through them all. But it seems my sin is far greater than all theirs combined, and is unforgivable- though I have never asked for their forgiveness. Hell, none of them have had the balls to ask me to my face about any of this.
Evidently my divorce and my relationship with Steve have given them reason to believe I am not as 'Christian' as they thought. Au contraire. Their treatment of me makes me question their relationships with Christ. I have never passed judgment on any of them- I have loved them and accepted them for who and what they are. When gossip would spring up about any of them, I was the first to squelch it or change the subject- not my business. I have not had the favor returned.
Just last week, Steve had a chance at a job within driving distance of O'town; the pay and benefits would have been comparable to what he will be making here, and he knows many of the people in the company. After the rough couple of weeks he has had, it was tempting to take it. After all, the job would be easier and he would not have to fight the self-doubt and uncertainty he has with his current company. Everything would have been easier and more convenient for him and for me. But when he seriously contemplated it, his peace left him. He took it to God, and God told him the same thing He told me: Steve is in S-field for a reason; we are to make a fresh start here, away from the strife and drama we will leave behind. Spiritually, financially, emotionally- the peace of our entire beings is at stake. This path is not the easy one, but it is the one we must take.
I challenge anyone to doubt his faith, for any reason. And likewise, mine as well.
And, of course, I will have to notify friends and family about our relocation, and perhaps have a good cry or two with those closest to me about my impending departure.
Wait.
Most of my family already knows that I will most likely be moving, and the only ones who have expressed an interest in this move have been my dad and step-mom. Since I am moving two hours away, the two of them will most likely be moving south as soon as Dad retires so Pat can be with her kids again, and most importantly, with her new grandson. I have not seen or heard from my sister since October (she's a North-Ender now; she doesn't mingle with O'town trash like me.) And my mom has decided Steve is Satan incarnate, and that my re-marriage and move is tantamount to child abuse. And my friends....?
What friends?
At church, my reception has been chilly at best since last May. People will greet me, but scurry away as quickly as possible, lest they be sullied by my adulterous reputation. Those I felt closest to- with whom I have shared my deepest soul-baring concerns- now dismiss me with a polite nod or even a condescending sneer. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. They forget I know them. Very well. I know all about their porn addictions, their secret lusts, their financial infidelity, their envy and strife; I know about their lies, their sloth, and their gluttony. We have shared these struggles for almost seven years, prayed over them together, and loved each other through them all. But it seems my sin is far greater than all theirs combined, and is unforgivable- though I have never asked for their forgiveness. Hell, none of them have had the balls to ask me to my face about any of this.
Evidently my divorce and my relationship with Steve have given them reason to believe I am not as 'Christian' as they thought. Au contraire. Their treatment of me makes me question their relationships with Christ. I have never passed judgment on any of them- I have loved them and accepted them for who and what they are. When gossip would spring up about any of them, I was the first to squelch it or change the subject- not my business. I have not had the favor returned.
Just last week, Steve had a chance at a job within driving distance of O'town; the pay and benefits would have been comparable to what he will be making here, and he knows many of the people in the company. After the rough couple of weeks he has had, it was tempting to take it. After all, the job would be easier and he would not have to fight the self-doubt and uncertainty he has with his current company. Everything would have been easier and more convenient for him and for me. But when he seriously contemplated it, his peace left him. He took it to God, and God told him the same thing He told me: Steve is in S-field for a reason; we are to make a fresh start here, away from the strife and drama we will leave behind. Spiritually, financially, emotionally- the peace of our entire beings is at stake. This path is not the easy one, but it is the one we must take.
I challenge anyone to doubt his faith, for any reason. And likewise, mine as well.
Kidless Week-End
Guess where I am?
Yep, Steve's apartment. As part of his employment, his new company has allowed him to live in their corporate apartment expense-free for 90 days. Pretty swank! I would have given my eye teeth for an apartment like this back in the day: brand new 1000+ square feet, two bedrooms, bath-and-a-half, fireplace, satellite and internet, washer/dryer... everything. Even towels, linens, and dishes. The walls are paper thin and the people who live above him walk like elephants, but for free, who's complaining?
By the time I got here last night, we were both exhausted and Steve is still battling the tail-end of a monstrous cold, so we just took showers, cuddled up, and went to bed (heh heh.) He had to work again this morning, so I slept in and ended up eating Cracker Barrel for breakfast. Now I am just waiting for him to get home so we can go work out and explore the city.
Do I like it here? Yes and no. This is the place I have wanted to live since Troy was almost hired here in 1993. Just big enough for variety, yet small enough that I'm not scared to death to drive to Walmart. There is tons of stuff to do here- today's paper highlighted an area youth archery club!- and it's fairly clean. but it is still foreign and unfamiliar to me. I know from experience (Monticello) that it takes about a year to become acclimated to a new home, so I believe it's my job now to find a church, schools, and a Y (or other health club) to start meeting some peeps.
Toodles.
Yep, Steve's apartment. As part of his employment, his new company has allowed him to live in their corporate apartment expense-free for 90 days. Pretty swank! I would have given my eye teeth for an apartment like this back in the day: brand new 1000+ square feet, two bedrooms, bath-and-a-half, fireplace, satellite and internet, washer/dryer... everything. Even towels, linens, and dishes. The walls are paper thin and the people who live above him walk like elephants, but for free, who's complaining?
By the time I got here last night, we were both exhausted and Steve is still battling the tail-end of a monstrous cold, so we just took showers, cuddled up, and went to bed (heh heh.) He had to work again this morning, so I slept in and ended up eating Cracker Barrel for breakfast. Now I am just waiting for him to get home so we can go work out and explore the city.
Do I like it here? Yes and no. This is the place I have wanted to live since Troy was almost hired here in 1993. Just big enough for variety, yet small enough that I'm not scared to death to drive to Walmart. There is tons of stuff to do here- today's paper highlighted an area youth archery club!- and it's fairly clean. but it is still foreign and unfamiliar to me. I know from experience (Monticello) that it takes about a year to become acclimated to a new home, so I believe it's my job now to find a church, schools, and a Y (or other health club) to start meeting some peeps.
Toodles.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Wedding Jinx
So I ordered it. The dress. It felt so... so... forbidden. I know my divorce is not yet final- maybe that's where the 'forbidden' came in- and now I am patiently waiting for it to arrive so I can get shoes, under garments, and jewelry. I don't even have an engagement ring yet, but I've already ordered my wedding dress. Go figure- I have always been bass-ackward.
The first time around (many, many eons ago,) a ring was chosen and bought by Troy & me in anticipation of The Proposal. I knew from our second date that I would marry him, so it was no huge surprise; we became officially engaged at Christmas and The Dress was put in lay-away in January (I thought we would be married in October.) Long story short: his job at the Sheriff's Dept prevented asking for any time off for a year, so we tied the knot in May instead, before he graduated from PTI.
I remember choosing bridesmaids' dresses- then having to re-choose them, since my first choice did not meet with my mother's approval- flowers (few, since money was tight,) tuxes, and gift-registry selections. I remember compromising on the reception location, the menu, and the cake topper (there was nothing I really liked at the Sweete Shoppe, so I ended up with a very generic kid-couple whose hair colors did not match ours.,) but holding firm on my wish for a horse-drawn carriage ride. When The Big Day arrived, I went where I was told to go, wore what I was told to wear, and went through the motions of wedding etiquette, from the first vow (which Pastor Silver refused to let me write- damned backward Baptist!) to the final dance.
Troy complied as well, looking bored and uncomfortable the entire day. A harbinger of things to come. His vows were wooden and perfunctory; our wedding 'kiss' consisted of him grabbing me by the shoulders and kissing me with all the passion he would have shown his mother. Or less. He showed no ardour, no emotion- People were watching. People from his family, his childhood, his work place.
When the time came to leave the reception hall, (I use the term loosly,) we gathered up our gifts and headed to the apartment we had been sharing since March with our best friends in tow. We stayed up until 3 in the morning opening gifts, then promptly fell asleep as soon as Brian & Dorene left. She later told me she & Brian decided then and there that we would not be coming home with them after their reception- then they laughed at how very odd a couple we were.
Married is married, whether a couple stands before a minister in a candle-lit cathedral or is handfasted by a Pagan priestess in a grassy meadow. I had my big, white wedding, and it did not matter a jot in the grand scheme of things. But this time around, I am determined to have exactly what I want, because this time around, this wedding- this marriage- is for me. I want my nails done this time. I want a pedicure. I want my hair done and silk from the skin out. I want to write my own vows, and this time I will allow myself to cry. I want Steve to sing to me, then kiss me with all the passion he shows me on a daily basis.
The first time around (many, many eons ago,) a ring was chosen and bought by Troy & me in anticipation of The Proposal. I knew from our second date that I would marry him, so it was no huge surprise; we became officially engaged at Christmas and The Dress was put in lay-away in January (I thought we would be married in October.) Long story short: his job at the Sheriff's Dept prevented asking for any time off for a year, so we tied the knot in May instead, before he graduated from PTI.
I remember choosing bridesmaids' dresses- then having to re-choose them, since my first choice did not meet with my mother's approval- flowers (few, since money was tight,) tuxes, and gift-registry selections. I remember compromising on the reception location, the menu, and the cake topper (there was nothing I really liked at the Sweete Shoppe, so I ended up with a very generic kid-couple whose hair colors did not match ours.,) but holding firm on my wish for a horse-drawn carriage ride. When The Big Day arrived, I went where I was told to go, wore what I was told to wear, and went through the motions of wedding etiquette, from the first vow (which Pastor Silver refused to let me write- damned backward Baptist!) to the final dance.
Troy complied as well, looking bored and uncomfortable the entire day. A harbinger of things to come. His vows were wooden and perfunctory; our wedding 'kiss' consisted of him grabbing me by the shoulders and kissing me with all the passion he would have shown his mother. Or less. He showed no ardour, no emotion- People were watching. People from his family, his childhood, his work place.
When the time came to leave the reception hall, (I use the term loosly,) we gathered up our gifts and headed to the apartment we had been sharing since March with our best friends in tow. We stayed up until 3 in the morning opening gifts, then promptly fell asleep as soon as Brian & Dorene left. She later told me she & Brian decided then and there that we would not be coming home with them after their reception- then they laughed at how very odd a couple we were.
Married is married, whether a couple stands before a minister in a candle-lit cathedral or is handfasted by a Pagan priestess in a grassy meadow. I had my big, white wedding, and it did not matter a jot in the grand scheme of things. But this time around, I am determined to have exactly what I want, because this time around, this wedding- this marriage- is for me. I want my nails done this time. I want a pedicure. I want my hair done and silk from the skin out. I want to write my own vows, and this time I will allow myself to cry. I want Steve to sing to me, then kiss me with all the passion he shows me on a daily basis.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Are you there, God? It's me, Sunny J....
And if You've got a minute to spare, I'd like to make a heart-felt request of You... I'D LIKE MY VA-JAY-JAY BACK.
As stated in a previous post, I spent almost two years in constant pain, suffering from a condition called vulvadynia. I believe the term 'vulvadynia' is Latin for 'coochie hell.' There are many forms of this disorder; mine began with yeast-infection like symptoms, then ballooned into pain, burning, swelling, and even a slight rash. My doctor, God bless her soul, put me through an embarrassing battery of tests, including ones for STD's, infections, and the like; all came back negative. Month after month, the symptoms would vanish with my period, then reappear a week or so later in varying degrees. In the mean time, I continued to work, work out, and try to live a normal life, but wearing jeans was out of the question, and ditto sex. In desperation, she send me to a specialist three hours away- a doctor who specializes in this condition. Praise Jesus! He diagnosed me almost immediately (after ruling out Lupus,) and I was quickly scheduled for a surgery called a vestibulectomy.
I guess I should pause to explain exactly what Vulvadynia is. It is a condition of the nerve endings in the va-jay-jay; in response to previous trauma (childbirth, episiotomies, painful s*e*x, repeated infections, chemical sensitivity,)the nerve endings go crazy, firing off at the least stimulation (like riding a bike, wearing jeans,etc.) A vestibulectomy removes the bartholins glands and the affected/traumitized area of the vestibule (look it up - I'm not going to get graphic,) then reconstructs the area. Thanks to good pain-killers, I recovered quickly (felt alot like the first week or two after childbirth,)and was delighted to discover my 'reconstruction' work had double benefits! (Heh heh heh- can you say "multiple O's"?)
So now, suffering through my first bout of pain in over a year, I am panicked by the possibility that my condition could be back. My specialist says no- it may be a minor relapse, but I will never suffer like that again- but am still worried. And why would I be bleeding after 'relations' again? No reason! My tests have all come back normal- for the love of all that is holy, being my old self again was like getting a new lease on life.
I am praying...
As stated in a previous post, I spent almost two years in constant pain, suffering from a condition called vulvadynia. I believe the term 'vulvadynia' is Latin for 'coochie hell.' There are many forms of this disorder; mine began with yeast-infection like symptoms, then ballooned into pain, burning, swelling, and even a slight rash. My doctor, God bless her soul, put me through an embarrassing battery of tests, including ones for STD's, infections, and the like; all came back negative. Month after month, the symptoms would vanish with my period, then reappear a week or so later in varying degrees. In the mean time, I continued to work, work out, and try to live a normal life, but wearing jeans was out of the question, and ditto sex. In desperation, she send me to a specialist three hours away- a doctor who specializes in this condition. Praise Jesus! He diagnosed me almost immediately (after ruling out Lupus,) and I was quickly scheduled for a surgery called a vestibulectomy.
I guess I should pause to explain exactly what Vulvadynia is. It is a condition of the nerve endings in the va-jay-jay; in response to previous trauma (childbirth, episiotomies, painful s*e*x, repeated infections, chemical sensitivity,)the nerve endings go crazy, firing off at the least stimulation (like riding a bike, wearing jeans,etc.) A vestibulectomy removes the bartholins glands and the affected/traumitized area of the vestibule (look it up - I'm not going to get graphic,) then reconstructs the area. Thanks to good pain-killers, I recovered quickly (felt alot like the first week or two after childbirth,)and was delighted to discover my 'reconstruction' work had double benefits! (Heh heh heh- can you say "multiple O's"?)
So now, suffering through my first bout of pain in over a year, I am panicked by the possibility that my condition could be back. My specialist says no- it may be a minor relapse, but I will never suffer like that again- but am still worried. And why would I be bleeding after 'relations' again? No reason! My tests have all come back normal- for the love of all that is holy, being my old self again was like getting a new lease on life.
I am praying...
Sooooo Wrong!
Okay. So it was bound to happen some time, but I can't imagine ever being prepared for it. In fact, I believe this was one of the most traumatic moments of my life. Allow me to explain...
Steve has been very sick over the past week- so sick, in fact, he actually entertained the idea of seeing a doctor on his own. Fever, chills, aches & pains, sore throat, dripping nose, deep-lung coughs... you name it, he had it. To top this off, it has been a crazy week at work for him- he can't seem to get his department up to speed, and he cannot fathom why. So, to make sure his people were on the ball, he was forced to work over Saturday morning, which meant he couldn't het here until late Saturday afternoon.
No prob. He and Abby arrived just in time for JJ and JE to leave with G'ma Ann, and JA was out and about with his new squeeze, Katie, shopping for Sadie Hawkins shirts "until about 10:00." So Steve, Abby, Baby G and I ate some dinner, we gave baths, had baths ourselves, put the girls to bed, then settled on the couch with a nice bottle of wine. What followed was both magical and primal- as it always is- and just as we were catching our breath and coming back down to earth, we hear a loud BANG! on the bedroom door. We both startled, then I called out, "JA? You home?"
I heard a giggle, then, "Yeah."
So, like any concerned mother, I hopped up, scooped up my pajamas and held them in front of my chest, and dashed into the bathroom (my bedroom and bathroom have a connecting door, and there is also a door into the bathroom through the kitchen.) What I didn't realize is that JA had decided to come into the bathroom via the kitchen, which resulted in a very traumatic meeting of mother and son.
I could've died.
I think we both screamed, and JA scurried out of the bathroom and downstairs to his room where he proceded to call not only his girlfriend and relate the story in full, but also his two best male friends (one of whose parents go to church with me, and have known Troy since he was in diapers!) Steve laughed and laughed, and we both woke up snickering about it this morning. But deep inside, I am mortified.
I think I finally warped him.
Steve has been very sick over the past week- so sick, in fact, he actually entertained the idea of seeing a doctor on his own. Fever, chills, aches & pains, sore throat, dripping nose, deep-lung coughs... you name it, he had it. To top this off, it has been a crazy week at work for him- he can't seem to get his department up to speed, and he cannot fathom why. So, to make sure his people were on the ball, he was forced to work over Saturday morning, which meant he couldn't het here until late Saturday afternoon.
No prob. He and Abby arrived just in time for JJ and JE to leave with G'ma Ann, and JA was out and about with his new squeeze, Katie, shopping for Sadie Hawkins shirts "until about 10:00." So Steve, Abby, Baby G and I ate some dinner, we gave baths, had baths ourselves, put the girls to bed, then settled on the couch with a nice bottle of wine. What followed was both magical and primal- as it always is- and just as we were catching our breath and coming back down to earth, we hear a loud BANG! on the bedroom door. We both startled, then I called out, "JA? You home?"
I heard a giggle, then, "Yeah."
So, like any concerned mother, I hopped up, scooped up my pajamas and held them in front of my chest, and dashed into the bathroom (my bedroom and bathroom have a connecting door, and there is also a door into the bathroom through the kitchen.) What I didn't realize is that JA had decided to come into the bathroom via the kitchen, which resulted in a very traumatic meeting of mother and son.
I could've died.
I think we both screamed, and JA scurried out of the bathroom and downstairs to his room where he proceded to call not only his girlfriend and relate the story in full, but also his two best male friends (one of whose parents go to church with me, and have known Troy since he was in diapers!) Steve laughed and laughed, and we both woke up snickering about it this morning. But deep inside, I am mortified.
I think I finally warped him.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Crushes
Paging Doctor Freud! What follows is a collection of the strange celebrity crushes of my life, and why I think I found them so attractive at the time...
Barry Gibb. Yes, folks, I was a little girl in the 70's, but in my own defense, my mother was a Bee Gees fan long before disco. I have had a huge crush on this man since I was 3 years old (maybe that's why a man who can sing goes a long way with me! And yes, Steve can sing, but his voice is more Josh Turner than Gibb brother.) That hair! Those teeth! That lovely voice! I know he is only two months younger than my own father, but I still find him to be one of the sexiest men alive. (I would make him sing before putting out, however...) Further, the lyrics he writes must come from a very beautiful heart. Whenever I sit down to write, I listen to the Bee Gees first. 
John Taylor. At the age of 13, I discovered Duran Duran (hey, it was the 80's!) and their tall, lanky bassist. Simon was more interesting and probably sexier, but at the time, I liked my men (boys) shy and reserved, which is how the teen idol mags at the time portrayed him. I think every young girl has a teen idol like this: an older man to dream about, to project all her future hopes and dreams upon, and to practice mental dating with before she is old enough to step outside the house in search of a boy to swap hickeys with. The fantasy is a way to try on different adult personas (complete with professional hair, make-up, wardrobe, and up-lighting!) in the safety of her own mind. I still think he is an atractive man, but would never dream of getting nekkid with him: God only knows what I'd catch!
Sam Elliott. Rough, manly, with that deep, gravely southern voice. The older I get, the less I like 'pretty' in my men, and Sam is certainly not pretty. He feeds both my cowboy fantasies, as well as my civil war fantasies (see Gettysburg- John Buford- oh yeah!) I have always thought Steve looks like a young version of this man- dee-lish-us! He is getting a little crusty in his old age, but I still find him wildly attractive. And I watch any movie that has him in it.
Sean Bean. Mmm mmm...... Okay, so I'm a Tolkien geek, and what's not to like about a manly man in chain mail, weilding a sword? (For even more swash-buckling, lust-inspiring manly man war scenes, watch the BBC's Sharpe series.) Watching this man has given the romance writer in me her latest muse, and has inspired pages and pages of steamy love scenes. And people wonder why I'm always smiling and spaced-out on the eliptical machine at the Y...
Barry Gibb. Yes, folks, I was a little girl in the 70's, but in my own defense, my mother was a Bee Gees fan long before disco. I have had a huge crush on this man since I was 3 years old (maybe that's why a man who can sing goes a long way with me! And yes, Steve can sing, but his voice is more Josh Turner than Gibb brother.) That hair! Those teeth! That lovely voice! I know he is only two months younger than my own father, but I still find him to be one of the sexiest men alive. (I would make him sing before putting out, however...) Further, the lyrics he writes must come from a very beautiful heart. Whenever I sit down to write, I listen to the Bee Gees first. 
Harrison Ford. Yes, please! As the 70's turned into the 80's and I hit puberty, Mr. Ford fueled my imagination in the worst way. I remember lying in my bunk at church camp, clutching a trading card close-up of this man, wondering if I would ever be admitted to heaven while lusting for him like I did. It was really George Lucas' fault, you know- Han Solo started it! (Oh, to be Princess Leia abord the Millenium Falcoln! Surely the vessel had a broom closet???) Then I had the good (mis)fortune to watch Hanover Street, a WWII drama in which Harrison romances a married woman. Hubba hubba! I have always been a history lover- Dr Jones!!!- and I even did some archeogology work in high school while toying with the idea of being a history/archeology major. Go figure. I still can't watch an Indiana Jones film without craving a cigarette afterwards. And I'm not even a smoker!
Adam Ant! Though recently admitted to the nut house, I still think any man comfortable enough to dress up like a pirate/highwayman/Regency dandy and dance around a stage (not to mention his clever song lyrics- 'Beat My Guest,' indeed!) is a man I'd like to date. He has the most beautiful face (should've been a girl, really,) and those lovely blue eyes. Again, I believe my love of history added to the fascination. He provided me hours of fantasy, not to mention hours of writing material (to this very day, I still have a deformed middle finger from writing and banging my fingers against my rickety old typewriter.)
John Taylor. At the age of 13, I discovered Duran Duran (hey, it was the 80's!) and their tall, lanky bassist. Simon was more interesting and probably sexier, but at the time, I liked my men (boys) shy and reserved, which is how the teen idol mags at the time portrayed him. I think every young girl has a teen idol like this: an older man to dream about, to project all her future hopes and dreams upon, and to practice mental dating with before she is old enough to step outside the house in search of a boy to swap hickeys with. The fantasy is a way to try on different adult personas (complete with professional hair, make-up, wardrobe, and up-lighting!) in the safety of her own mind. I still think he is an atractive man, but would never dream of getting nekkid with him: God only knows what I'd catch!Sam Elliott. Rough, manly, with that deep, gravely southern voice. The older I get, the less I like 'pretty' in my men, and Sam is certainly not pretty. He feeds both my cowboy fantasies, as well as my civil war fantasies (see Gettysburg- John Buford- oh yeah!) I have always thought Steve looks like a young version of this man- dee-lish-us! He is getting a little crusty in his old age, but I still find him wildly attractive. And I watch any movie that has him in it.
Tommy Lee Jones. I chalk this one up to watching too much of The Fugitive (trying to get my Harrison Ford fix.) I didn't even realise I found this man attractive until I started having very, um, interesting dreams about him while pregnant for my second son. I don't find him handsome whatsoever, but he is still very sexy. Very manly. Rough and ugly, just my type. I have read that he is actually a very intelligent and polished gentleman, but I'll just stick to his movie persona, thank you; 'gentlemen' belong in Barabra Cartland novels, not in my hormonal fantasies.
Well, now that I have this off my chest, I feel somewhat better, kind of like I've sent a postcard to postsecret. So now it's your turn. Who's your secret (embarrassing) crush?
Is This Appropriate?
I know this may be jinxing things, but I believe I have found my next wedding dress (in ivory, not pink, though the pink is very pretty, too.) We are unofficially planning to fly to Vegas when my divorce is final on some unassuming week-end when we are minus our off spring to tie the knot, then proceed to go bungee jumping or sky diving, or something equally crazy and risky to celebrate our nuptials. I have decided I want this ceremony to be unique and special in its own right, with no reminders of any past wedding for either of us (so no May date!) And I also want it to be an unforgetable experience that I will remember with a tear in my eye and a lump in my throat for the rest of my life.Now if I could only find these shoes- or something similar- in off-white....
Sunday Night Blues
Well, another week end has come and passed, and I am just drained. The kids were with Troy, but Steve and I had Abby while trying to empty his (rented) house of all his belongings. When she is by herself, she is generally pretty easy to live with- the mouth gets sassy some times and there are moments of only-child demanding-ness- but I could have used a little down time. And his landlords came to change the locks immediately after we left! He had to tell them to slow down, since my step-mom is going to clean for him this week, but it is almost as if they did not intend to give him his deposit back. Not cool.
And what would a week-end with Steve be without a little ex-wife drama? We went to get Abby Friday night, and were told she would be next door at her adult brother's house. No prob. BUT (and there is always a BUT with this woman,) when we pulled in the adjoining drive, her new man's car was running in front of the house, most certainly to make sure Steve knew where and with whom she would be this week end. Bear in mind the 'new man' is her ex-slutting buddy's soon to be ex-husband, and her coke dealer. The older brother told us Abby's bag of clothes were still in the other house, (go figure,) so of course Steve had to go in and get them. Then out comes Steve- followed by the ex and the new man, whom I will call 'Jason' (no offense, Kara!) who are toting a case of beer and a bottle of something with them. Typical.
Now. This woman, who truly believes she is God's gift to mankind, is a very BIG girl- I am talking tall (5'8"+) and broad-shouldered with some serious tree-trunk legs. I have been told that, once upon a time, she kept her weight down to about 125 (with the help of speed and diet pills!) but she is certainly nowhere near that number now. She gave me a coy look, then the two of them sped off into the night for what I assume was an evening of cheap alcohol and white-trash lurve. When Steve got back into the car, I made a catty comment about them being a match made in heaven, and he replied mockingly, "Yeah, I thought they weren't seeing each other!"
If he actually believed that, I have the proverbial bridge to sell him.
Since breaking up with the Charles Manson lookalike in November (after he blacked both her eyes and nearly put her in the hospital,) this is at least man #2 to have shared her bed. In my neck of the woods, this is what we call a 'slut,' children! And he and Steve used to be pretty tight friends (and not the first one of his 'friends' she has slept with, either!) They have even commisurated over being married to two of the easiest women in Christendom on occasion. Don't know what this Jason is thinking- but, as I explained to Steve, the man is vulnerable right now, and he needs someone to take care of his kids while he works. I guess they are perfect for each other: he is getting a free babysitter (though I would think twice about letting her near my kids after seeing the way she treats Abby and treated the other two in the past!) and a piece of ass, and she is getting her coke for free. She can be charming and pleasant when she wants to be- a true cat, the youngest of three and 'helpless'- especially when it suits her purposes. She wants to get married (before we do, I am sure!) and this appeals to not only her need for revenge (it's a long story,) but also her need for drama.
God help us. She is a true piece of work. I'll be sure to entertain you with more stories later, though you may not believe them for all the stupidity and drama involved. Scout's Honor, folks: only the names have been changed, to protect the innocent!
And what would a week-end with Steve be without a little ex-wife drama? We went to get Abby Friday night, and were told she would be next door at her adult brother's house. No prob. BUT (and there is always a BUT with this woman,) when we pulled in the adjoining drive, her new man's car was running in front of the house, most certainly to make sure Steve knew where and with whom she would be this week end. Bear in mind the 'new man' is her ex-slutting buddy's soon to be ex-husband, and her coke dealer. The older brother told us Abby's bag of clothes were still in the other house, (go figure,) so of course Steve had to go in and get them. Then out comes Steve- followed by the ex and the new man, whom I will call 'Jason' (no offense, Kara!) who are toting a case of beer and a bottle of something with them. Typical.
Now. This woman, who truly believes she is God's gift to mankind, is a very BIG girl- I am talking tall (5'8"+) and broad-shouldered with some serious tree-trunk legs. I have been told that, once upon a time, she kept her weight down to about 125 (with the help of speed and diet pills!) but she is certainly nowhere near that number now. She gave me a coy look, then the two of them sped off into the night for what I assume was an evening of cheap alcohol and white-trash lurve. When Steve got back into the car, I made a catty comment about them being a match made in heaven, and he replied mockingly, "Yeah, I thought they weren't seeing each other!"
If he actually believed that, I have the proverbial bridge to sell him.
Since breaking up with the Charles Manson lookalike in November (after he blacked both her eyes and nearly put her in the hospital,) this is at least man #2 to have shared her bed. In my neck of the woods, this is what we call a 'slut,' children! And he and Steve used to be pretty tight friends (and not the first one of his 'friends' she has slept with, either!) They have even commisurated over being married to two of the easiest women in Christendom on occasion. Don't know what this Jason is thinking- but, as I explained to Steve, the man is vulnerable right now, and he needs someone to take care of his kids while he works. I guess they are perfect for each other: he is getting a free babysitter (though I would think twice about letting her near my kids after seeing the way she treats Abby and treated the other two in the past!) and a piece of ass, and she is getting her coke for free. She can be charming and pleasant when she wants to be- a true cat, the youngest of three and 'helpless'- especially when it suits her purposes. She wants to get married (before we do, I am sure!) and this appeals to not only her need for revenge (it's a long story,) but also her need for drama.
God help us. She is a true piece of work. I'll be sure to entertain you with more stories later, though you may not believe them for all the stupidity and drama involved. Scout's Honor, folks: only the names have been changed, to protect the innocent!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Loser
Yes, I am! I have been woefully behind in my posts as of late, and it is my own fault.
Working a 40-hour-per-week job takes up most of my time, and my four younguns takes up the rest of my time. I squeeze in shopping, grooming, cleaning, and working out, and somehow give Steve a little attention, as well.
But, to be perfectly honest, I feel I am at the end of my spiritual, physical, mental, and emotional rope. One of my favorite bloggers, over at Boobs, Injuries, and Dr Pepper recently admitted herself to a psychiatirc facility for help- and I can truly say I would do the exact same thing right now if I had the time. Some of my old health problems have reared their ugly heads again (along with some new ones!) and after fighting the curse of vulvadynia for the past two years, I just don't think I have anything left inside of me to fight on. I had a year of no problems! I was normal again! Now... I don't know. Steve is two hours away, the kids are still adjusting to life with parents under two separate roofs, my extended family is nucking futs, the job is driving me crazy with stress... and my divorce still is not final. And then what? Steve and I want to be under the same roof when school is out... but all these variables leave me feeling like a skydiver with an iffy parachute.
So pray for me- I certainly need it.
Working a 40-hour-per-week job takes up most of my time, and my four younguns takes up the rest of my time. I squeeze in shopping, grooming, cleaning, and working out, and somehow give Steve a little attention, as well.
But, to be perfectly honest, I feel I am at the end of my spiritual, physical, mental, and emotional rope. One of my favorite bloggers, over at Boobs, Injuries, and Dr Pepper recently admitted herself to a psychiatirc facility for help- and I can truly say I would do the exact same thing right now if I had the time. Some of my old health problems have reared their ugly heads again (along with some new ones!) and after fighting the curse of vulvadynia for the past two years, I just don't think I have anything left inside of me to fight on. I had a year of no problems! I was normal again! Now... I don't know. Steve is two hours away, the kids are still adjusting to life with parents under two separate roofs, my extended family is nucking futs, the job is driving me crazy with stress... and my divorce still is not final. And then what? Steve and I want to be under the same roof when school is out... but all these variables leave me feeling like a skydiver with an iffy parachute.
So pray for me- I certainly need it.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Plans
Well. Steve got his job in S--field. More money, first shift, bonuses, and all, beating the hell out of the deal his current place of employment was offering him to go to Georgia. He gives his two-week notice tomorrow and will be living in a company apartment for the first 90 days, rent and utility free.
We did a lot of talking this week-end, and the plan is for me to join him when school is out.
I am excited and apprehensive at the same time. God, carry me!!!
We did a lot of talking this week-end, and the plan is for me to join him when school is out.
I am excited and apprehensive at the same time. God, carry me!!!
Sunday Christians
I love my church. It has been my second home since 2001. For the first time in a lifetime of spiritual searching, I found a place where the worship was real and powerful, the people were down-to-earth and spiritually genuine, and the unconditional love of Christ was demonstrated in every way possible. Real women! All in love with Jesus, living lfe to the fullest, pastoring one another with love and compassion. I was thrilled, I was shocked, I was hooked.
The entire year I was living in Monticello, I missed my church and my Y more than my blood family. And that's the horrible, honest truth.
But now, the spiritual climate has changed- at least toward me. My welcome has been chilly as of late (due to my adulterous status, I am sure,) and today I was blown off by two women I once considered my good friends. My best friend and her husband (who are marriage counselors, no less,) had to run to the pastor and counsel with HIM before mediating with Troy and me! (and I am sure they related the story to him in full.) Even R- whom I brought into the church as a confused, hurt, spiritually bound baby Christian- has kept her distance from me.
I could be hurt. I could be offended. But instead, I have chosen to be stubborn. New Life is MY church home, and I dare anyone to try to run me out.
And: FUCK YOU ALL. My marital status or lack thereof is no reflection of my love for God, or His love for me. Hate me, gossip about me, ignore me- I don't care. But just know I would never- could never- treat you the way you are treating me.
The entire year I was living in Monticello, I missed my church and my Y more than my blood family. And that's the horrible, honest truth.
But now, the spiritual climate has changed- at least toward me. My welcome has been chilly as of late (due to my adulterous status, I am sure,) and today I was blown off by two women I once considered my good friends. My best friend and her husband (who are marriage counselors, no less,) had to run to the pastor and counsel with HIM before mediating with Troy and me! (and I am sure they related the story to him in full.) Even R- whom I brought into the church as a confused, hurt, spiritually bound baby Christian- has kept her distance from me.
I could be hurt. I could be offended. But instead, I have chosen to be stubborn. New Life is MY church home, and I dare anyone to try to run me out.
And: FUCK YOU ALL. My marital status or lack thereof is no reflection of my love for God, or His love for me. Hate me, gossip about me, ignore me- I don't care. But just know I would never- could never- treat you the way you are treating me.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Absolute Insanity
That is the only way I can describe the past year: absolute insanity. A separation, a new home, legal procedings, a surgery, financial obligations, parenting issues, health issues. Two uncles with cancer (one terminal,) one crazy mother, a large group of hostile ex in-laws, and a new job that changed both my income and lifestyle.
Can you say PAXIL? (No, I'm not on it. Yet.)
I can definately say this has been one of the most tumultuous years of my life. I am in a much different place on January first of 2008 than I was exactly one year ago today. But have I changed for the better? Is my life better? Am I headed in a positive direction?
Change is almost never easy or pleasant. I can say I take great pride in paying all my own bills, in keeping it together in the house, and in making sure my children are clean, well-fed, and somewhat happy. My fuse is a little shorter, I am a little more stressed and driven (cuz if I don't do it, no one will!) and my fitness level is not where it was. But I no longer walk around heartsick, hating myself, or looking forward with a heavy heart. I have new job prospects. (What I have now pays the bills, but my kids need me home more. And I truly need to get back into college.) I have a new fitness center to play in. And I am still standing. Not bad.
However, the future is still up in the air. No idea where I will be this time next year, sometimes unsure of where Steve and I are going. Still not completely sure what it is that I want in the end.
Lord, I don't know where all this is going
Or how it all works out.
Lead me to peace that is past understanding
A peace beyond all doubt.
-The News Boys
Can you say PAXIL? (No, I'm not on it. Yet.)
I can definately say this has been one of the most tumultuous years of my life. I am in a much different place on January first of 2008 than I was exactly one year ago today. But have I changed for the better? Is my life better? Am I headed in a positive direction?
Change is almost never easy or pleasant. I can say I take great pride in paying all my own bills, in keeping it together in the house, and in making sure my children are clean, well-fed, and somewhat happy. My fuse is a little shorter, I am a little more stressed and driven (cuz if I don't do it, no one will!) and my fitness level is not where it was. But I no longer walk around heartsick, hating myself, or looking forward with a heavy heart. I have new job prospects. (What I have now pays the bills, but my kids need me home more. And I truly need to get back into college.) I have a new fitness center to play in. And I am still standing. Not bad.
However, the future is still up in the air. No idea where I will be this time next year, sometimes unsure of where Steve and I are going. Still not completely sure what it is that I want in the end.
Lord, I don't know where all this is going
Or how it all works out.
Lead me to peace that is past understanding
A peace beyond all doubt.
-The News Boys
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