Have you ever.....

had something on your mind? Something you keep playing over and over again in your head, trying to figure it out? I keep thinking about some particular events in my past, and have realized some things are not what I thought they were. Assumption is a very bad idea- an assumption literally changed the course of my life. A different choice would have yielded a very different outcome for me.

One cannot think too much about past events, for if one spends too much time and energy focusing on things that cannot be changed, that person will go nuts. Although, I must admit, I am now inspired to live to 110, just so I can see what happens.......

Christmas List 2010

For both

X box 360 Kinect

Helen

1. Vera Bradley purse

2. Music downloads

3. DS game

4. New ear buds

5. Bath and Body works

6. "Lamby" throw blanket in fushia

7. Books (Margaret Henry books)

8. Clothes (mostly shirts and dresses)

Zachary

1. Tech Deck stuff

2. Xbox game

3. Nerf guns and bullets

4. "Lamby" throw blanket in blue

5. Books (Bad Kitty, Diary of Wimpy Kid)

6. Loopz

bought

thankful thursday thirteen

13 things for which I am thankful

1. Helen- my first born who challenges me and teaches me something every day.

2. Zachary- my baby, who loves me more than anyone else.

3. My dogs- because they are always glad to see me, and they are cute and furry.

4. My job- glad to have one, and with such great people, too!

5. David- the one I come home to, who puts up with me and tries to keep me sane.

6. Renewed friendships- some people mean more than I ever realized.

7. Good friends- I am so blessed to have a few very wonderful friends that will do anything for me, and I will do the same for them.

8. A home- when so many have none.

9. My sister- who I miss every day.

10. My education- I was fortunate enough to get a good one.

11. My health- although it isn't perfect, I can walk on my own two feet, use all my senses and think for myself.

12. My faith- God is good and He makes sure I have what I need, and that I am where I belong.

13. Vices- I have some and do not plan to give them up (didn't think I'd be completely serious, did you?)

venting....

I am supposed to be working right now. But I am watching the bread we just made bake in the oven while the kids are at recess and need to unload.

I take on too much. It is a bad habit of mine, as well as an old one. Ever since I was young (like Middle School age) I have tried to do it all. Sorry. I have gotten better at saying no. I have even gotten good at delegating. Except when I am a committee of one.

Which brings me to my problem. I had hoped for a partner in life. A helpmate. Someone to tell me everything will be fine; someone to give me a boost when it isn't going fine. You can probably guess that is NOT what I got. You cannot tell these things before you say "I do". You really can't. Add two children (one who is like 4 kids all by herself) to the mix and you get one stressed out person. And one who watches TV, plays with his Android or just lays there as the walls come crashing down. I get that there are times I need to ASK for help; but for Pete's sake..... doesn't it also seem that one can look at me and see the struggle. Get up off the couch and just GIVE of yourself?

Thanks- I needed that. I do love my family very much, but there are some days that I just need a partner.

**UPDATE**- after my rant/vent the husband actually sent me two messages asking if he could do anything to help me with the work I needed to do. And he made dinner tonight- thanks, dear!

Dream house.....

In my fantasy land, where I wear a tiara and am always right, and amazing, I also have a perfect house. It has:

1. Big eat-in kitchen, with a big bulletin board for posting things.

2. An "office" corner for me.

3. A craft room, with a dark room.

4. A family room- a place for the kids to go and leave me alone, lol.

5. Tons of closets, shelves and storage.

6. His n hers bathrooms- I don't want to share any more.

7. A man cave- so the husband can go away and be grumpy somewhere else.

8. A large out door space with room for parties.

9. A pool.

10. And a pond.

11. A tree house.

12. The laundry room would be on the same floor as the bedrooms, not in the basement!

13. A screened in porch with a swing.

14. Room for a tread mill...... gotta work off all the food I will cook in my huge kitchen!

Sleep

Why is it that when I was young I had insomnia, but now I could sleep for 2 days if no one woke me up?

My insomnia started when I was about 10 or so. I could lay awake for hours. It was awful and embarrassing. I hated going to sleepovers or camp because of it. At camp you cannot get up and read or watch tv. You just have to lay there. All. Night.

After I was in high school and college, my mother would wake me up because she said I was wasting my day sleeping..... um, I had only been asleep about 2 0r 3 hours........... thanks! Plus I worked in a convenience store until 11 pm- went out with friends after, didn't get home until 1- you get the picture.....

I have lived alone often and couldn't sleep then, either. Even now, if the husband is out of town- I am up most of the night. Funny thing is that after I married him, as long as he is home, I can sleep. Wonder why?

13! for Thursday

for your reading pleasure- a bucket list

thanx for the inspiration , {****}- you're the best!

1. to learn karate so i could kick ass if i wanted to.

2. to figure out all the buttons on my camera.

3. to meet my great grandchildren.

4. to have a passport.

5. with stamps in it.

6. to cook with paula deen, or alton brown.

7. to live near my sister.

8. to finally do work with a mission, or the peace corps.

9. to hike the AT (or at least some of it) with my daughter.

10. to own a pair of REAL cowboy boots (red, please).

11. to win a trophy.

12. to have a garden.

13. to pick out my own car.

Property......

When I was 17, just after I graduated from high school, I went to Six Flags with some friends. No, not the boyfriend, because he wanted to play tennis with a bunch of sweaty boys {instead of making out with me in the Monster Plantation}. Just friends. While I was there, I bought a set of dog tags. Just plain ol' tags on a ball chain. For a small fee, one could have them engraved. I had "Property of {insert boyfriend's name here}" on mine.

Fast forward a couple of weeks..... I went to Florida on a school trip. A chaperon, a former hippy feminist with the backside the size of a van, took immediate offense to to my dog tags. As an adult, I can see the cause for alarm...... young girl sees herself as a piece of property. She obviously did not know me, or understand. Nor did she ask, merely lectured and criticized.

If she had asked "why", I would have gladly explained it to her. Obviously, she is most likely NOT a reader of this blog, but I would love the chance to share what I would have loved to tell her then. Property of {****} did not mean what she assumed. It was an expression of devotion- meant to make him feel good, to show that even though I had stopped wearing his class ring I wanted an outward sign that someone loved me. It meant that he was the first of many things and an important piece of my life's short history. And I have never been a feminist any way, so it was a nose thumb at the type of girls/women that annoyed me then, and now.

If I had felt controlled by {****}, the last thing in the world I would have ever done is put his name around my neck. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It was more a sign of freedom than oppression. So, Mrs. Mitchell...... you will probably never understand it in a million years. Or maybe you do and realize that 17 year old silly girl was actually pretty deep.

I have reconnected with quite a few people via facebook in the past year or so. For the most part, it has been a good experience. And also, enlightening.

When I was in college I pledged a sorority. There were about 50 girls that I considered sisters. At the time I admired and looked up to quite a few of them. Some carried themselves with with a dignity and grace that I only dreamed of. One sister that I thought was one of the most beautiful and wonderous creatures ever (she was a senior) broke up with her boyfriend. I admired the strength and grace that she showed despite any sadness she might have felt. I wanted to be just like her- I was still miserable from a break up months before.

Another girl, a pledge sister, was so unbelievably organized and put together. I was envious of the fact that was dressed to perfection, beautiful and really read the books for English........ And she was so smart......

There are quite few others- girls that I never felt "equal" to, but wanted to be like. Fast forward 20 years- years that I did not stay in touch, as we were never close- and I am amazed to find how much we have in common. The fabulous senior? Has a wonderful dry wit and gets my jokes. The organized smart one- same thing....... I am also finding out that they also held me in high regard- SHOCKING . Maybe I was better and more memorable than I had imagined.......

stronger......

They say whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Probably a lot of truth to that statement. I know I am a strong person; I have the experience to back it up, too.

First of all, I was raised by a narcissistic mother. The only time I wasn't ignored, I was being punished. If that wasn't enough to mess me up, there is more. My siblings were all gone from home by the time I was 10. So I was on my own. Almost literally. I had to make most of my own decisions. There was not much in the way of support. My dad was very strict and he kept me balanced. He also made sure I kept my sense of humor.

When I was 15, I was assaulted on a family vacation- I really do not want to go into detail because I still don't like thinking about it, but I was very, very cautious for a very long time. In one way, it is a blessing, because it made me more aware of those around me and, I think, kept something worse from happening to both myself and my friends in the future.

People I have loved have left me.

I have battled issues with too much alcohol. I have been depressed.

I spent six years married to someone who, on some days was my best friend. On others, I had no idea who the hell he was. Sometimes it was scary and I was in fear much of the time, especially toward the end.

Most of my adult life has been spent away from my hometown and family. This has been partly because I felt like there was nothing for me in Covington and I never wanted to go back. But it has also been hard because I have missed so much.

I have lost two children. One would be turning 15 this month. If the other had been born, I wouldn't have Helen. I also almost lost the two children I have- one in childbirth, the other at one month. Seeing my baby on life support is one of the hardest things I have ever faced. Sometimes I wonder if Helen's challenges are the result birth trauma.

Currently I struggle daily with being a good mother, a good wife, a good teacher. Trying to balance it all is hard work. Sometimes I dream of a day off. From it all. I'd never wish it all gone. But a day in the sun, hearing the ocean, drinking rum....... would be a nice break from having to be strong all the damn time.

Names

As parents, we took a great deal of time picking out names for our children. Funny, though, because we came into this marriage with a preconceived notion of naming our future kids. I know girls do it- we imagine this little brood and name them....... and no one has filled the sperm contributor in on this. He has his own ideas. And all of yours stink.

Now, growing up, I imagined a big family. I knew Christopher would be the first. He would be followed by Paul, Elizabeth, Alexander and David. What would have happened if I had 5 girls, I don't know. Well, life evolves, the names altered and the number reduced. Finally, I was expecting a child. And the fights began. Literally everything I suggested was all wrong (and usually "gay"). Even Andrew (which is actually the sperm contributor's own MIDDLE NAME) was deemed "gay". Good thing it was a girl.

We named her Helen Jacqueline. Named after two wonderful ladies- David's grandmother and my sister. Everyone said "you're naming her an old lady name"..... well, we named her after an old lady..... Thing is, when Helen is middle aged all the old ladies will be named Brittney and Tiffany.

We easily picked out a girl name for our second child. Heidi Susan. Helen and Heidi sounded nice together. Heidi was a favorite book of mine, and Susan is not only my own name, it is my mother in law's name. Then we found out at 32 weeks, that we were (SURPRISE) actually having a boy. Back to the drawing board....... and fights.

David Andrew Jr. was not going to happen. I am 5'0". David is 6'3". He plays baseball and (even though he hates it) is known as Big Dave. I could not risk having "Little Dave" who never makes it to 5'5" and is shorter than his Amazon sister. Andrew, or Drew, was out. We agreed on the middle name (after David's father). Everything else we fought about. For days. Finally, one night, David picked up the dog eared baby name book and opened it to the back- the Z's. He said,

"Zachary". He closed the book, tossed it on the sofa and went upstairs. I mulled it over, and I liked it. Zachary Raymond......

So, now I am the mother to two, whose names I would have never imagined years before, and I cannot imagine being anything else now.

13! for Thursday

1. Love the story The Little Red Hen.

2. No one wants to help the hen, so she does everything "all by myself".

3. At the end she has fresh baked bread and everyone wants some.

4. She says "NO!"

5. What a brave, ballsy little hen.

6. I wish I was more like her.....

7. Wish our government was too (um, i did the work, why do you get a cut?)

8. Children's literature is wonderful.

9. The bad guy gets it in the end, good trumps evil, goats can talk......

10. I just really hate that Rainbow Fish.

11. He is a really special shiny fish and everyone hates him.

12. So he starts handing out his shiny scales and then all the fish look alike.

13. Some claim it is about sharing; sounds like socialism to me...........

First Dates and other Details

I was talking to someone about first dates and that made me start to think. How many first dates do you have in a lifetime? If is an ONLY date, it doesn't count, no matter how memorable it is. I don't think I can recall every first date I ever had in detail. I can say that only a few led to a relationship that mattered.

Sometimes you remember what you were wearing when you met (white t shirt, black pants, black vest, combat boots and a leather jacket), or even what the other person was wearing (white linen no collared shirt, faded jeans, converse hi tops)...... other times you don't even really remember what you did or where you went. As in- I remember when and where I first saw my husband...... couldn't tell you where we went on our first date. Actually, we met with friends, then left them to go do something together, so was that our first date? Or was it when he actually picked me up at my apartment and we had a plan (which I think involved Mexican food and many beers, but I could not tell you what I was wearing, lol). So confusing. But I can tell you about my last first kiss.

In my kitchen I have a framed print of two bar stools and a small table. The picture was taken in Atkins Park. This is spot where David kissed me for the first time, the same night we ditched our friends. He also first told me he loved me in that parking lot a few weeks later. We went there often after that, and had our rehearsal dinner there the night before we were married. We go back every time we are in Atlanta together, usually with the children (that means we cannot sit at our table, however- as it is in the bar area). The picture was actually taken with film and I am too lazy to scan it in for your enjoyment. Sorry.

I am one of those people. I recall weird, random details that other people may not notice or recall. Don't ask me where the car keys are or if my cell phone has been charged, or if I paid a bill. Chances are, I don't know. I can tell you I remember the important things. Like the way my babies looked first thing in the morning, wearing their footie jammies. The way my cat slept on David's chest the first time he "spent the night". The way it felt when my sailor returned from the Gulf and I knew he was finally safe at home. The excitement of a boy giving me a class ring that was obnoxiously huge on my finger.

They say God is in the details. I don't know about that, but I do know the important things always are. The small things that make life's memories are always the details.

Saturday morning

Helen just left for her field hockey tournament- with no arguing. Now I am left here with just Zachary who is already showered and dressed (in a bright yellow Yoda shirt) and watching Mythbusters (is it weird that I find Adam Savage hot?). I have my coffee, my Curious George jammie pants and the lap top. Life is kinda nice.

Later today I will attend a First Reconciliation workshop with my son. He really has no concept of confession and penance. He barely grasps "forgive". I wonder if he is ready. Or are any of his peers. Most of the participants are second graders. I was personally 33 years old when I made my First Reconciliation, and I still barely get it!

Some of my readers either do not know how I became Catholic, or didn't know I wasn't raised that way. When I was 15, I went on a cruise with my parents. It was Easter so the ship held a Catholic Mass. I went with some boys I met during the trip (always found the boys, go figure). I was touched by the service and would have converted then if my parents would have let me. As the years passed, there never seemed to be a right time to switch. I started attending Catholic services when I moved to Maryland in 1996. I promised David's grandmother (also named Helen) that if he and I had children, they would be raised Catholic. I did not convert until I was pregnant with Helen.

I had to attend RCIA classes for about 9 months, filed for an annulment, tracked down my Baptism records (not easy, but easier than I thought it was going to be) and went to most classes while chasing a crawling infant. Thankfully on that aspect, there were many candidates and sponsors willing to hold and tolerate a wiggly active baby. I did my First Reconciliation with Helen on my lap. It was also my last. I am way over due. Maybe I will join my son on Monday.

Wide awake

I really hate it when the dog wakes me up at 4 am. He goes back to sleep; I have to get up in an hour and am wide awake. Thinking. AAAAHHHHHGGGGG!!!!!! My brain should not be on at 4 am. That is a time of day that should be seen only once per 24 hour window. Period.

So what am I thinking about? Wouldn't you like to know? Seriously, making mental lists of things I need to do. Regretting that I did not wash that pot that is sitting on the stove, but not do not have the motivation to go take care of now. Wondering if Zachary has clean pants for today...... The usual stuff. Plus wondering how folks can go for 25 years without speaking and pick up like they have been best friends all along. Weird, but nice at the same time.

1. My purse is purple.

2. My cell phone is purple.

3. My lunch box is purple.

4. My least favorite color is ...... purple.

5. Go figure.

6. I would prefer red.

7. Which is also the preferred color for a vehicle.

8. Maybe when I am much older I will get to pick out my own car.

9. Of course I will most likely be too old to care.

10. So, maybe I can get a red Rascal Scooter.

11. So I can run amok in the nursing home.

12. While wearing my tiara.

13. And picking up men......