My Date

I had a date today!

Okay, my date happened to be my 9 year old Bug, but I got your attention, right? My personal life is non existent, don't judge me.

Anyway, Bug and I went to get my paycheck, and then we decided we had a need for ice cream. I like to try to take advantage of one on one time with my kids as they arise, as the mom of five children. Bug is always fun though. He is my youngest, my baby, and he is the last remaining child that has complete confidence in me. He is amazing, that kid. Once he is away from the normal craziness of our house, he loses a lot of the immaturity that I worry about at home. He is so smart, and so funny, and so much fun to be with it's incredible. We chatted about the upcoming school year (he doesn't want to go to school. but wants to see his friends) why he is mad at his brother (he is mean and won't let him hang out with him and his friends) and lots of other things. I felt a reluctance to go home, to end this sweet, perfect time with my son, but eventually we did go home, and played video games, and built with his kenex set. I let them talk me into ordering pizza for dinner, and I didn't once give my usual nutrition lecture. It was a good day.

The Beauty Within

For most of my life, I was overweight. About 7 years ago, I finally had enough, went on a diet, and over the next 5 years lost a little more than 100 pounds. I still struggle with my weight. I go though periods of overeating, followed by long stretches of eating almost nothing. I have an incredibly hard time eating in front of people. Shopping for clothes takes a herculean act of bravery on my part. I have pretty much accepted that I will always struggle with these things.

I tell you this, because I think that my preoccupation with my physical appearance has had a negative effect on my children, most especially my girls. Over the past few days, I have listened to Alley Cat talk about her makeup not being "right" before she goes outside to play, her hair not "looking good" and insisting on an immediate haircut, and constant rounds of "do I look fat". Today, Tinkerbell told me that she is having a breast augmentation at the first opportunity. I should add here, that my kids are amazingly beautiful and all of these concerns are unfounded at best.

After Tink shared her plans to have her body surgically altered, I talked with my girls. I told them first that they are beautiful, and there is no need to worry, and definitely no need for major surgery. I tried to get them to understand, however, that their body image should never define their self worth. I reminded them both of the amazing attributes they both have that have nothing to do with their physical appearance, Cat's compassion, Tink's determination. I tried to show them that they have the ability to make enormous impact on this world, to change our world for the better, no matter if they are having a bad hair day or not. I hope they heard me. I hope they understand. Because as beautiful as they are on the outside, you haven't seen anything until you see who they are on the inside, where it counts.

My 17 year old Mother

I don't think I have ever discussed the topic of Mr. Wrong's relationship with Tinkerbell here before. Tink is MW's first biological child. From the moment she was born, the sun has risen and set on her as far as he is concerned. He occasionally gets angry with her, but with one bat of her 'I'm so sorry daddy' lashes, he melts. He absolutely cannot stand the thought of her being mad at him, and she knows it and uses that to her full advantage.

This would not be a problem if Tink were an average teenager. The reality is, Tink is anything but average. I have had problems with her that I never experienced with any of my other children. Before BabyG, she ran away. Often. For days at a time. She came home drunk. She cursed us both out when the mood struck. And, oh yeah, SHE HAD A FREAKIN BABY AT FIFTEEN!!! Problems? Oh yeah, Tink knows how to bring them.

In all honesty, she is a much easier person to live with since she had BabyG. However, we have a new problem. Tink now thinks she is my mother. Yes, I have a seventeen year old mother now. She tells me what to do. She tells me when to do it. She tells me HOW to do it. She does the same thing with MW. He allows her to do it. I think he secretly thinks its cute. I however, do not. Needless to say, we bump heads a million times a day over everything from how I wash dishes to how I raise my children. She is as stubborn as I am, so these disagreements and power struggles can go on for days.

Usually, Tink is either angry at me or her dad, never both of us at once. Yes, I see how she turns us against each other, but I have to admit, when it's my turn to be the "good parent" I appreciate the peace, no matter how temporary it may be. However, since MW and I have been trying to be friends lately, Tink has changed her MO. Now she is out for blood. MY blood. The better MW and I get along, the worse Tink acts. So, what to do, what to do. Seriously, what do I do? I cannot let her run my house and my life, and I will not live with constant fighting. Short of buying her a muzzle, I am out of ideas so if you have any advice, I would love to hear it. By the way, I HATE being the bad parent!

Because it Happened to Me

I almost never talk about it.

I wish I could say that I almost never think about it, but that is far from the truth. I do think about it, in dark, lonely moments. I remember that night, more than five years ago now, that Mr. Wrong and I went to a small, local bar that he hung out in way too much back then. It wasn't the kind of bar that women should spend time in, but I never gave that a second thought. I was with my husband, I would be safe. There were two things I was sure of back then, that Mr. Wrong could hurt me in ways I never knew possible, and that he would kill anyone else that tried to hurt me, no matter what. I was happy to go that night, happy that he wanted to spend his time with me, to be with me. I was always so hopeful back then, that my marriage would turn into what I dreamed it would be, hopeful that I would be loved.

When we got to the bar, Mr. Wrong was already half way to drunk. "Pre-game drinking" I used to call it. At the time, Mr. Wrong wasn't always drunk, but he wasn't ever really entirely sober, either. Once there, he was drinking shots quickly, chasing them with beer after beer. I occupied myself playing the jukebox, and talking to the bartender, the only other woman in the bar. Mr.Wrong had started talking to a couple other men, something that usually happens only when he is drinking. One of the men was much older than either of us, and very obviously drunk.
Eventually, he walked away from the men and stood next to me, talking to me and the bartender instead. I remember that I didn't like this man, and wondered why Mr. Wrong had even spoken to him.

I guess we had been there a couple of hours when he came up to me again at the jukebox. He kept saying that he talked to my husband, I had no idea why he was telling me that. I tried to walk away from him, but he stepped in front of me, so I was pinned against the jukebox. His hands were everywhere at once. I was frantic, desperately trying to get Mr. Wrongs attention. "I talked to your husband, it's ok. I talked to your husband..." His hands went under my skirt around the time that I started to understand what he was saying.

I walked away a different person. I found Mr. Wrong, and tried to tell him quietly that we needed to leave. He told me he was having fun, and wouldn't leave. Finally I told him what happened. I expected blinding rage. I expected broken barstools, broken noses, blood. That would have been horrible. What actually happened was worse. "Oh, him. He told me he liked you. It's ok, calm down." To this day, I get upset if anyone tells me to calm down. He refused to leave the bar, so we stayed. For hours. When finally, blessedly we went home, he passed out and I cried until I fell asleep.

The next day, he didn't remember any of what had happened. When I told him, he really did feel bad. He apologized. I believed he meant it. We moved on.

I know that this story could have been so much worse. I thank God that it wasn't and my heart breaks for women whose stories are much worse. The thing is, what that man did to me wasn't the worst part of what happened. The one person that I trusted completely with my safety had let me down. Not only had he not been able to stop it, he didn't care when I told him. It was ok, to him. That is what haunts me. That is what I honestly don't know if I will ever completely let go of. Because it's not ok. And I won't calm down.

I feel like I should say here, that I am not posting this to hurt Mr. Wrong. I know that he reads this blog. I know how sorry he is that this happened to me. We have talked about it, and I truly believe and accept his apology. I wrote this for me. Because it's time to look at all the things I have kept buried for far to long. That is the only way to heal, and grow. That is how I can make my life a better place, and move on.

The Ebb and Flow of Life

'And the worst of it is, you understand, that I can't leave him: there are the children, and I am bound. Yet I can't live with him. Anna Karenina


How strange to be living a quote from my favorite book. How well I understand the meaning of being bound, and the desperate longing to be free. I am living a life of single independence, for the most part, yet I share a home with a man who is still legally my husband. He lives his life the way he chooses, yet he sleeps every night on his wife's sofa. Through it all, I try to create a sense of normalcy and safety for my children.

There is an ebb and flow to Mr. Wrong's and my relationship. We pass between friendship to mortal enemies and back again so quickly sometimes even I don't know where we are in that spectrum some days. Truly, if I think about the things that have been said and done in this past year, and throughout our marriage, I can be overcome with rage so intense that it scares me. I know that he feels the same way, and again I will say, I am not perfect and I have made mistakes.
However, if we can sit in the same room together and not argue, I have to admit that I am bound by more than my children, more even than finances, and my stubborn refusal to give in to him ever again. There are 20 years between us. Twenty years of almost daily contact. I was still little more than a child twenty years ago. We have grown up together. There is a friendship that cannot be denied between us. I hope that we can come through whatever comes next in this process and be friends, not only for our children, but for us as well.

The lack of feelings

I feel like I have been living in a bubble of sorts, for several months now. I have the strange feeling of things happening around me, but somehow not to me. To a large extent, this is of my own doing. For too long, my feelings and emotions were out there, raw and exposed, for anyone and everyone to beat on them at will. I wanted to be that person, the open and honest person who could acknowledge feelings, and accept them. Then last year happened. Events and circumstances came hurtling towards me from all directions, with dizzying speed. From October '08 to October '09 I was hit, almost nonstop, with a freight train of emotional hell that left me, quite literally, in bed for weeks. I have written about that time before in this blog. Thanks to amazing friends, and incredible children, I pulled myself out of bed. I moved on. I learned some things during that time. I learned that someone who will bring you a newspaper and starbucks coffee in bed is truly your best friend forever. I learned that kids who will watch you mess up their world and love you anyway are the most precious gift God can give you. And I learned that if you don't want to be in bed listening to All by Myself and wallowing in self pity, you need to put your feelings and emotions away. Far away. Push them down, jump a couple of times to make sure they stay, and build those damn walls high.

So that is exactly what I did. I gotta say, it works pretty well. I no longer get hit with freight trains, I knock them out of the way, or run like hell to safety. This week marked several anniversaries for me, that would make most people sad. The thing is, I'm not. The mere fact that I am not, haven't shed a single tear, is amazing to me, and got me a bit curious. I think I overbuilt my armour. I think that, while trying to give my battered feelings a well deserved break, I have made myself incapable of feeling anything at all. Is that even possible? And if it is possible, what the hell does that say about me?

As final proof of my lack of feelings, I was in the grocery store today, shopping for the rest of the weeks meals. On the music that is piped throughout the store, Goodbye Girl came on. This song has always brought me to tears, it reminds me of my grandfather, who died about a year ago. This time? Nothing. Nada. Am I a cold hearted bitch? It makes me wonder....

Cat turns 13

Today my little girl turns 13.

Wow, what an amazing thing. I truly feel like I have been lied to somehow, that my little girl is still the beautiful blonde baby that wakes up each morning singing, yes singing, in her crib. Sadly, this is no lie, no dream, Alley Cat has become a teenager.

I worried when each of my older girls became 13. I was concerned that they would choose the wrong path, the wrong friends. I worried about drinking and drugs, all the usual teenage acts of rebellion. I am not as worried about Cat.

Cat has the most mature set of morals of any child I have ever known. She is quick to correct her siblings, and occasionally me, if she feels we have done something wrong. She disapproves of cursing. She is adamantly anti smoking. She thinks people who drink or do drugs are stupid and not worth her time.

She has a quick temper, inherited from me, and forgives and forgets just as quickly. She loves fiercely, and will defend those she loves with everything in her. She worries and over thinks everything, also inherited from me, and will lose nights of sleep worrying about things that are important to her.

Cat has always made friends easily, and has many that she loves like family. She enjoys life every day, and it is a joy to watch.

So, happy birthday Cat. I love you more than you will ever know.

Happy Birthday Tinkerbell

Today you turn 17 years old. How is that even possible, when I can remember bringing you home from the hospital like it was yesterday? You wore the cutest little yellow dress, and looked like a little doll in your carseat, which seemed way too big for you.

You were a very different baby than your older sister, independent from your very first breath. So independent, in fact, that you would not fall asleep if someone was holding you. You preferred to be left alone, to do things on your own terms, in your own way. Looking at you now, it is obvious that some things never change.

I am so proud of you for so many things. Your independence, your determination, your unwavering loyalty. You have seen and lived through so much more than you should have, but your experiences have made you who you are today, and I am so grateful that you are you. I know that you will never make the mistakes I have made, or let anyone (even your mom) tell you what to do. I love that about you. I love that you are mature enough to trust you own instincts, and to know what is right for you. I tried to raise you to question authority, rather than blindly follow, and you, more than any of your brothers or sisters, have gotten that message loud and clear.

When you had BabyG at 15, a lot of people were quick to doubt your ability to handle the responsibilities of motherhood. I never for a second thought you couldn't do it. You have proven to everyone that you are a great mother, and can rise to any challenge put before you. Your son is living proof of that.

Happy birthday Tinkerbell. I can't wait to see all you accomplish in the next year.

Becoming Real

What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room…

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

The Velveteen Rabbit

I just read this quote on another blog. It amazes me how much adults can learn from children's literature. For the last year of my life, I have been living this quote. I have finally, at long last, started becoming real. Last August, I took the biggest step towards real I have ever taken, and for the first time, tasted freedom. For many reasons, mostly for my children, I had to backpedal temporarily, but now, now I know. I will not live someone elses life anymore.

I have been called many things in my quest for real-ness. Selfish, a liar, a cheater, a fraud. But, real truly doesn't happen to people who break easily, and I cannot be broken. Not by words, accusations, hatred or anything else anyone wants to throw at me. I have no sharp edges, and I surely do not need to be carefully kept. In becoming real, I have learned independence, and strength, and integrity. You don't become real alone, and thank God, I have the best and most fiercly loyal friends in the entire Universe, and children who are an amazing gift even when they are being impossible, and I owe them more than I could ever hope to repay. They make sure I am not alone. They are helping me to become real.

I thought I was alone. I thought that I was the only one who realized, at the age of 40 that I was living a life that wasn't mine, fufilling someone elses destiny. Thanks to blogs, and online friendships, I have found that is far from true. Sometimes it takes a long, long time. It did for the skin horse, and it has for me. I wish it didn't. I wish I had always known the real me. I can't live my life in regret, however. I can help my children to know themselves, and remove the toxic people from my life. I can be content and peaceful in the life I have now. Yes, I may be loose in my joints, and somewhat shabby, but that only matters to people who will never understand.

Good Enough

The beginning of the end of my marriage came on October 22,2008. Mr. Wrong told me that he didn't love me, hadn't in fact, loved me in years. I should point out that up to that point, I had been completely faithful. I tried, in every way I knew, to be a good wife. He said a lot of terrible, hurtful things that day, but the most hurtful of all was "your best isn't good enough." I have heard that ringing in my head at every low moment I have had from that point on. You. Aren't. Good. Enough.

This past year has forced me to examine myself in ways I never have before. At my very core. I have had to strip away every defense I have ever had, layer by painful layer, to discover who I truly am, physically, spiritually, and mentally. The person Oprah calls my authentic self. It has been a long journey, and it is by no means over. There have been parts of me that I really don't much like, and I have had to change them. I have had to step way outside my box, my safe little comfort zone, and do things that I honestly never thought I was capable of. I have found out what I truly believe in, what I want, who I want to be. To some, this has seemed selfish of me, to take the time and energy to work on my own happiness. To me, it was that or die. I couldn' t be the mother my children deserve if I stayed the person I was a year ago. More importantly, I need to be able to teach my girls how to be strong women. I need to be sure that my experience will never be their experience. That is vitally important for these beautiful girls who have already seen way more than they ever should.

Today, I am totally ok with my marriage being over. The thing about learning who you are is you learn the type of people you want to allow in your life. I still have a lot of anger towards Mr. Wrong, maybe I always will. You know what though? I am good enough. I always have been. If Mr Wrong or anyone else can't see that, well, that's their problem.

No more Miss Nice Guy

I tell ya, sometimes it just doesn't pay to be nice.

I moved back into Mr. Wrong's house to help him out of a crisis situation. I left a situation that was far from perfect, but it was pretty good. I fought long and hard for my independence, I finally had it. I was happy, I could breathe. I should have NEVER left.

Somehow, Mr. Wrong's promises that he was a changed man went out the window as my suitcase came in. As my shirts and pants were placed into the drawers, his real personality was unpacked from it's temporary storage area. The harder I tried to get along, the more obstacles and road blocks were thrown in my face. As the days turned into weeks, I began to feel the familiar acid churning in my stomach. As the weeks turned into months, the return of my insomnia assured me that there was a storm coming, it was just a matter of time.

Last Tuesday the storm hit. Mr. Wrong came home at 11 at night drunk. He then spent the next hour and a half terrorizing my children and my home. There is no way to avoid the truth any more. I married a violent alcoholic. There is no question of if he will be violent, just when. There is no question of if he will drink, because I now know for sure, he will always drink. He may not have another drink for a year or more, he may drink tomorrow, but he will drink.

After his latest display, I told him that he will have to leave. I cannot and will not make my children into human yo- yos. This is our home. We like it here. So far, Mr. Wrong has agreed to leave within a month, but I have heard that before. This time, however I will go to the authorities if necessary. You see, Mr. Wrong might not have learned anything in the past year, but I did. I learned that I am a lot stronger than I ever thought possible. He can call me whatever names he wants, he can do whatever he wants to do, I can say I'm not taking it anymore. This time, I mean it.

I wouldn't have believed it if I wasn't there

She came into my room pale and crying. "Something is really wrong with me mom! It hurts!" Through bleary eyes, I looked at the alarm clock. 4:00 am. As I slowly woke up, one thing registered more than anything else. Tinkerbell was crying. Tink never cries. Never. Especially during the past year and a half, with her teenage rebellion going to the extreme, she never cried, especially around me. something was definitely wrong.

I went through all the typical questions a mom asks, Do you need to poop? Do you have your period? Gas? Even as I asked these questions, I knew we were facing something far more serious. Mr. Wrong and I exchanged a look. Even with our marriage in the toilet, we still had that silent communication that couples develop after spending a lifetime together. This was bad. I quickly got dressed, while Mr. Wrong called an ambulance. While we waited, we decided logistics. I would go to the hospital, Mr. Wrong would stay home and get the rest of the kids to school. I would call him at work when I knew something.

In the ambulance, the paramedic watched Tinkerbell and then looked at me. "Is there any chance she could be pregnant?" I quickly assured him that wasn't possible. Tinkerbell was only 15 years old, I explained. She wore a size 2 jeans to school just the day before.

When we arrived at the hospital, I started to worry. By this time I had decided she had appendicitis. If an appendix ruptures, can't you die, I wondered? I moved away from my daughter reluctantly, to make room for the nurses and doctors who were suddenly everywhere. I desperately wanted someone to tell me what was wrong, and how to make it ok. Finally a young nurse came over to me. She looked at me sympathetically and suggested I may want to sit down. Now I was really scared. I assured her I was fine, and begged her to just tell me what was happening. "There is a head between her legs." A head...between....WHAT?

Apparently someone had told Tink too, because she sat straight up on the bed. "No, I can't have a baby! I am NOT having a baby!" The nurse assured her that not only could she, she would in about 10 minutes. 5 minutes and 2 pushes later, Baby G made his appearance. As the nurse put this tiny child in my arms, and I looked with shock at his adorable face, which somehow looked as confused as I was, Tinkerbell looked at me and said timidly, "Mommy? I think I should tell you, his father is black."

All of this took place one year ago today. I was in no way prepared to have another infant in our home. I was not ready for my little girl to be a mom. I really wasn't ready to be a GRANDMOTHER! I wasn't ready for any of it, but I am so grateful for all of it now. Little Baby G has been the greatest blessing this family has ever received. He turned my rebellious teenager into a different person, and the way she has taken to motherhood has been a source of constant pride and amazement. He has completely melted everyone's heart with his quick smile and easy laugh. A year ago, I wasn't at all sure things would work out the way they did, but I will always be thankful that they have. Happy birthday Baby G! We are all so happy you are here!

Life Lessons

Today, my bff and I went to Starbucks for "girl time". I love doing this even more now than I ever did, because while we were roommates, girl time was whenever I wanted it to be, and I miss that dearly. We now schedule our time, and try to make the most of her break from work. We drink awesome coffee, window shop for expensive things we can't afford and don't need, and talk about anything and everything.

Today, after discussing kids and men, our conversation turned to affairs. Certainly, that is understandable, since it seems lately every time I turn on the news someone else has had a scandalous affair. Really though, we were talking more about every day people, not people in the public eye. People, perhaps sitting next to us drinking coffee. People like her. People like me.

I hate to admit it, but I did have an affair. I could spend the next several hours explaining (justifying?) my reasons, but there really is no point to that. What I did was wrong. Period. I know that, and I live with it every day. I can't change that, I can't undo an affair. All I can do, is try to figure out what happened, something I am still trying to figure out.

What I do know, is that happy people do not have affairs. That is not to say that my husband was to blame. In the end, the blame and responsibility lies with me. I was very unhappy, living in a marriage with no communication and no trust. I felt like I was unloved and unappreciated. I asked for help, and was told I was helpless. I lived in relative isolation, I had no outlet for my feelings. I cried a lot.

When my affair began, I knew, deep down, that there was a possibility of being caught. At the time I would have said it wasn't likely, because I really didn't think my husband paid that much attention to me. Deep down though , I knew that I was taking a chance. I guess he was paying closer attention than I thought, because I did get caught. I will not say that he handled it the best way, because he did things that there is really no excuse for. Again, I knew my husband. I knew he would blow up and do inexcusable things. So, wrong or not, ultimately, I have to take responsibility for that, too. Believe me, I have, and I do.

I have often said that my affair was a symptom of my marriage breakdown, not the cause. I still truly believe that. I was so starved for love, for affection, that as soon as I was shown a little,even by a stranger, I jumped at it with both feet. However, many times a person dies because of the symptoms of a disease, rather than the disease itself. So, if my marriage does die, I have to take my responsibility for that as well. There are other ways I could have handled my situation, I am sure. My regrets are too vast and great to mention. I believe very strongly in living not in the past, but using the lessons we learn to move foward, and that's what I do, every day. Honestly, that's all I can do, accept responsibility, and move forward.

Confusion

My last post was a total downer, to quote one of my many favorite 80's sayings. That is because, my life right now is a total downer. Interesting thing though. Mr. Wrong always reads my blogs. Always. I think he is probably my biggest lurker. So, I was a little worried about posting that last night. We have argued before about posts, and I was mentally preparing myself from the time I hit publish. He never said a word. I am reasonably sure that he read it, like I said, he always reads my blogs. So, this means what exactly? I have no idea. Does it mean he is so angry that he doesn't want to talk about it? Or, does it mean that he really doesn't care how much he hurt me?

This not talking about the big elephant in the room is driving me crazy! It's funny, this time last year, Mr. Wrong was constantly demanding that I talk to him. If I didn't talk to him, well, doors were broken, objects were thrown, general destruction ensued. So, where did this need to talk go? Now that I would LOVE for him to want to talk to me, I live in icy silence. Sometimes we "surface talk", about the kids, the news, something on television, no real talk. It kills me to think this, but I really believe that this is all part of his getting back at me. For most people, this would seem to have been a very long, detailed plan, just for payback. They don't know Mr. Wrong. He would totally do something this detailed, and more.

So, aside from trips to Starbucks with Mama Ho, I am still not quite sure what to do about this situation at all. I guess, as with so many things in my life, it's a game of wait and see.

Played

I was separated for over a year. I lived apart from Mr. Wrong for 6 months of that time. During those 6 months, I heard all types of promises from Mr. Wrong. I heard how if I gave him another chance, I would never be sorry, that he was ready to accept responsibility for things he has done wrong, he was willing to talk to me about those things. I was told he knew how wrong he has been, and just needed a chance to make it up to me. I was all he wanted, all he needed.

I was played.

I came back mainly because of a family emergency, one that is still ongoing. I wouldn't have come back, however, if I didn't believe all of the promises that he made to me. I have been played before, I can't believe I fell for it again. This is worse though, because I have 20 years of history with this man. I have stood by him during some of the most impossible situations I can imagine, I have stayed with him when everyone around me knew I should leave, and for what?

So, the question now is, where do I go from here? I really have no answer for that. I know that I will not leave my children again, and I won't leave my home again. I know that no one can say that I haven't given this marriage every possible chance. I tried my best. I will continue to try. I can't do it alone though, and I really don't think it's fair to expect me to.

7 Steps to Guarantee Lifelong Unhappiness

Hold onto the past. Keep old hurts and wrongdoings close, visit them often to keep the wounds raw and opened. Don't be tempted to listen to any apologies, they probably don't mean it anyway.

Always hurt people before they have a chance to hurt you. Don't allow yourself to be open with people, they will only use your openness against you. Demand total honesty and openness, never give it. Always be sure that you can walk away without looking back.

Do not have any pastimes or outside activities. Do not have a circle of friends or a support system of any kind. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. Do not deviate from this pattern.

Always think about what you don't want to happen. "I can't lose my job", "She/he is going to break up with me", "I am going to lose my house". Play these tapes over and over in your mind. Make them a mantra, of sorts. If you should accidentally think of things you would like to happen, stop yourself immediately.

Do not take any responsibility for your own life. Never admit guilt. If left with no other option, find some reason to justify your actions. "I did that because I was stressed out", or "I might have done that, but YOU did THIS" work well.

Always look for the gray cloud behind every silver lining. Look as hard as necessary for the bad in every situation. Never see just the good and be grateful. As a matter of fact, never be grateful, for anything. No matter what.

Cultivate a sense of entitlement. Do not make your own good fortune, look for it to be handed to you, and complain incessantly when it's not. Allow jealousy to overtake you. This will help a deep and lasting bitterness and resentment against all humankind to grow.

The Push to Change

My very best friend wrote this post yesterday that made me think about a lot of things. In her post she talks about people changing. She wonders weather a grown adult can somehow learn things that should have been learned long ago in childhood. I find it hard to be objective, because I know her situation so well, as well as I know my own life. Sadly, I think that long term change in this case, is not likely.

In every relationship, there are inevitably things that we wish we could change about our partners. That is basic human nature. In a long term, mature relationship, we realize that the only thing we can change is ourselves. Not who we are, but how we react to others. Ultimately, we decide how to handle things we don't like, and what we are willing to tolerate. If we are the kind of person that needs the emotional daily affirmations of love, we have to be able to decide if we are going to be able to be with someone not as outwardly emotional, for example. Likewise, we need to be able to identify personality traits that we can not and will not tolerate. I think to try to overlook these things will only make both people miserable.

I don't think that change can be taught, any more than you can teach a person to love you. What I think the real question in her post is is can you teach maturity, and I am afraid that my answer to that is no. Maturity comes at different times for different people. There is no magical age that maturity kicks in. Tinkerbell is far more mature at 16 then people I know in their 20's and 30's. Lack of maturity doesn't make you a bad person, just perhaps not equipped to handle the responsibility that comes with a long term relationship. No matter how much we may want to, we can't push someone into maturity, even if we feel that it is long overdue.

I believe

I believe:
- We each are responsible for our own happiness, and that no one can make someone else happy.
- I was born to be a mother.
- We can learn a lot of valuable lessons from hard or painful situations.
- The most important things in life can not be bought, and have nothing to do with money.
- There is good in everyone.
- True beauty is found on the inside, not the outside of a person.
- I am a lot stronger than most people give me credit for.
- It is vitally important to laugh every day.
- That sometimes smart people make stupid choices.
- Mistakes are a part of living.
- When we know better, we do better.
- Starbucks coffee, when combined with best friends, has healing properties.
- Love never makes people sad.
- Tears are not a sign of weakness, but they do make you stronger.
- Some of the most unexpected events can bring life's biggest blessings.
- Age is nothing but a number.
- Wisdom comes with maturity.
- If you don't take control of your life, you are a spectator, not a participant, in life.

Babies!

If I have learned anything in my life, it's to expect the unexpected.

Last night my cat Abbey had kittens! There are 4 of them, soo adorable you just can't believe it. I can't be sure, but I think we have 2 girls, and 2 boys.

Because she is MY cat, and this is MY family, there is a little bit of drama in the birth story. Abbey was acting a little bit weird late last night, and we figured she might be in labor. My daughter Cat and Abbey have been best friends since we got Abbey, and she decided to sleep downstairs with her, to keep an eye on her. Abbey laid down and went to sleep in her usual spot, on Cat's leg. Around 2 this morning, a frantic Cat woke me up. Abbey had a baby- on Cat! She was a little grossed out, and a little mad that I couldn't stop laughing, but she got over it quick enough when we got downstairs and there were 2 babies! We transferred Abbey and the babies into the box we had prepared and Abbey started feeding her babies and went to sleep. Figuring she was done, we all went to bed. Imagine our surprise when we woke up this morning to 2 more babies!


Mom and babies are doing well. More pictures to come.

Unraveling

Today I feel like I am unraveling. Little by little, piece by piece. I don't think there is any one reason why. I am tired. I am physically tired, I'm emotionally tired, I'm tired of being stressed out, I'm TIRED! Mr. Wrong is being, well, Wrong lately, he's probably tired too, but he is definitely adding to my unraveling right now. Communication is at an all time low in Casa de Wrong, and that worries me. No communication is what led to my unraveling before, and I am not going back to that time. I can't. I won't. I'm not.

During our entire separation, Mr. Wrong was The Great Communicator. Always wanted to talk, really talk. About feelings, about what we wanted, about anything really. I came to really enjoy that, and count on it. Now that I live here, does that mean that we no longer need to talk? I don't think it does. It doesn't for me anyway.

So we are stressed, and not talking. That really makes me feel as if I am doing all of this alone. With no one to share it with, no one to support me, no one to vent to. I don't know, I guess for men that's ok, for me it isn't. So, how do I restore communication? Not sure about that one. If anyone has any ideas, I would love to hear them!

Nine years ago

Exactly 9 years ago today, a little baby boy was born. This was no ordinary little boy though, this baby was sent with a very important purpose. He was born into a family that had experienced heartache and loss, and had come to heal the family.

He was a tiny little guy, but had a huge spirit from the very first minute of life, and that spirit has grown along with him every day for the last 9 years. Today his family is complete, and he is the light of everyone's eye. Without exception, everyone in the family lights up when he walks into a room.

He is sensitive beyond his years, this little man child. He has an understanding of human emotions that surpasses my own, and true compassion for all. He has a truly generous nature, rushing to share even brand new birthday toys with his brother and sisters. He is a natural comedian, his stories, though often a bit long, never fail to leave everyone in laughter.

This special child has been the most incredible gift any family could ever hope to receive, and I am proud and honored to call him my son. Happy birthday, Bug. You are loved more than you will ever know.

My Valued Customers (3)

Dear Valued Customers,

Yes, it's me again, your cheerful cashier. Only today, I am not quite so cheerful, and do you know why? That would be because in a couple of hours, I am going to have to leave my home and go to Grocery World for the evening, after being there last night, which was, quite simply, THE NIGHT FROM HELL! You see, last night I ran the express lane. This means that customers who are only buying a few items, in this case no more than 20, can have a faster moving line and be on their way quickly. Valued Customers, please count your items! This will solve so many of our little issues in our relationship, and will make all of our lives much simpler.

You see, Grocery World has a policy. Cashiers are not permitted to ask you to leave the express line, even when you clearly have upwards of 50 or more items in your cart. A lot of you already know this policy, which is no doubt why so many of you do this. What happens then is the true express customers get angry, very angry. They stew in their righteous indignation while you pile an entire grocery order on my belt, and by the time their turn comes, they are ready to blow. And they do. At me. Last night, one dear woman was so upset, she demanded to speak to a manager. The conversation went something like this:

Indignant Woman: These people clearly have too many items! She (pointing at me) hasn't said one word! She just rings them up! No matter how many things there are!

Mr. Manager: Ma'am, our policy is not to deny service. Our corporate headquarters won't allow us to say anything.

Indignant Customer: But that's not right! They have to follow the rules!

Mr. Manager: I understand your concern ma'am. It's really a no win situation for us. (looking at me) Have people come through with more than 20 items?

Me: Yes, they have.

Mr. Manager: Have you said anything to them?

Me: No, because we aren't supposed to say anything.

Mr. Manager: Maybe you can suggest to them that they not use the express line next time?

Me: (looking at him incredulous) Really? Um, ok. That's what I'll do then.

See? Mr. Manager goes double talking all over himself, I am really and truly angry, and everyone in the line is now angry that it's taking even longer to get out of the store. Seriously? It would be so great if you would just count your items.

As long as we are on this topic, I would like to point out that if you have 60 items, and separate them into 3 separate orders, it is still 60 items! This does nothing but make my blood boil! All of this blood boiling is taking away from my adorableness, and that makes everyone sad.

Sincerely,
Your Cashier

What is going on here?

This is gonna be another one of my soapbox posts. Let me say first, that I admit I don't know a lot about politics. I do not have a college degree. I am well aware that I am not in any way qualified to make or change laws. I understand that, and I get that, I really do.

Still, I know the difference between right and wrong.

Last month, there was a bill passed in Utah, called The Criminal Homicide and Abortion Amendment. This bill makes it possible to charge women with murder for a miscarriage caused by "intentional or knowing" acts. Really?

Fist of all, I was not aware that in Utah abortion is only legal if there was rape or incest, if the mother's life is in danger, or if the child will be born with "grave birth defects". Apparently, each state is allowed to determine when abortion is legal.

This bill came into being because a 17 year old girl who was 7 months pregnant paid a friend 150 dollars to beat her up to cause a miscarriage. Her boyfriend had threatened to leave her if she didn't terminate her pregnancy. The baby survived the beating, and was adopted.

Clearly, this was a horrible thing to do. I am not at all suggesting that I support this in any way. I agree that there should be some type of consequence for these actions. Criminalizing miscarriages, however, is not the proper consequence.

Imagine a woman married to a man who physically abuses her. For whatever reason, she stays with him, and becomes pregnant. Eventually, he beats her so badly she miscarries her baby. Is she a murderer? By staying with her abuser, she committed an "intentional and knowing" act. Do you want to see her sent to prison? That would be ridiculous. Isn't that where this bill leads though?

This is what I think. The abortion debate has raged for years, and the decision to have an abortion is a personal one that I believe is ultimately the woman's decision, as she is the one who will ultimately have to live with the consequences of her decision. To label a woman a murderess because of that decision, will help no one.

A Bad Mommy Day

Today was a bad mommy day.

My usually sweet, sensitive, caring Bug got in trouble in school today. Apparently, my 8 year old Mr. Sensitive called a little girl in his class a "fat slob".

Oh. My. Hell.

Where to begin listing my problems with this? There is the fact that I make a very conscious effort to raise my children to be sensitive to others feelings, and until today, thought I had done the best with Bug. He really is an amazing kid most of the time. This is the child who, just 2 days ago made everyone in our house sign a peace treaty, promising not to yell or fight with anyone. He is always the most verbal when I ask how he feels about something. Actually, he is usually the only one that doesn't run away when I ask about feelings.

Bug is, by far the most sensitive of all of my children, the most like me, and someone saying that to him would devastate him. He has been known to get teary eyed because of a dirty look. Honestly, I cannot imagine those words coming out of his mouth.

I have had a weight problem my entire life, a battle that has led to food disorders, body image issues, diet pill abuse, and terminally low self esteem. I have always tried to convey to my children how badly words like fat can hurt, how the damage done by those words never goes away completely. Coupled with the recent case of a sweet young girl killing herself because of the torment of constant bullying by classmates. No, I don't think that this is on the same level, but could it be the beginning? I know that words hurt, and wounds from words don't heal. It breaks my heart that my son has done that to another person.

So, as a punishment, Bug wrote a letter of apology. He told her he was sorry, that he thought he was joking. I felt better after he wrote the letter, and after a LONG talk from me. I thought we made headway, thought I had demonstrated good parenting. As I sat to write this, a disagreement escalated between Bug and his sister. As I listened, my hand frozen above my keyboard, I heard it. He called his sister a fat pig. It is definitely a bad mommy day.

Unbelievable

I have been following Constance McMillian's case since the beginning, with a growing sense of horror. If you aren't familiar with the name, very quickly, Constance is a teen aged lesbian, and wanted to bring her girlfriend to her prom. After much debate, the school decided it would cancel the prom, rather than allow her to attend. At this point in the story, I was sickened. I could not believe that in this day and age, we could allow such discrimination. It's 2010, for goodness sake! Yeah, I was sickened, and ashamed of us all.

Now however, now I am really and truly very angry. It seems that private citizens decided to hold a prom for the school. Then, in what is the most disgusting, sick thing I have ever heard, they arranged a FAKE PROM! Candace, along with a couple other students not "worthy" of a real prom, were invited to a cover prom, the rest of the students went to the real prom. I cannot express my outrage at this. This was done by ADULTS! Unbelievable!

I know that I am not going to change anyone's views on homosexuality. Honestly, I wouldn't even try any more. If you feel that it is wrong, ok. You win. You don't ever have to think anything different than you do right now. I feel that Republicans are wrong. I still have to live with Republicans, work with Republicans, send my children to school to be educated by Republicans. Isn't it easier to get along with them? To find some commonality between us on which to build, if not a friendship, at least a mutual respect?

What makes this so much worse, is that this is a teen aged girl. Teen years are hard, and painful enough without the adults in her community promoting hate. This story has been all over the internet, and I am sure that other teens have looked to Constance as a hero. What are we saying to those kids? If any of you reading this are one of those kids, I want to say I'm sorry. You are not a freak, you are not less than any other person, and you don't deserve to be treated this way. I hope you find acceptance. I wish you love and peace.

An Ordinary Day

In the midst of my ordinary, same as usual day, I had a HUGE revelation. I can't identify the exact moment of this revelation. Was it while I was playing with Baby G? Was it while talking to Mr. Wrong about ordinary, every day things? Maybe it was while Mr. Wrong and I waved goodbye to Bug on his school bus from our front porch, or when Mr. Wrong and I hung laundry outside on our clothes line, surrounded by the sound of our children playing. It could have been at any of those moments, or a thousand other moments in this ordinary day. At some point, I realized I am happy.

Happy and I don't have a very good relationship, I should point that out. I have gone to ridiculous, life changing lengths to find happy, and ended up in a depression so deep I am still amazed that I survived it. The problem was, I think, that I wasn't clear about what happy IS. I thought I was supposed to have adrenaline coursing through my veins, heart beating fast, my mind fuzzy all day every day. Writing it now, it doesn't even sound appealing, let alone realistic. Sadly, I haven't been happy in a long time, not really, and that is what I thought I was supposed to feel.

Another major problem happy and I have is that usually when I do get it, I worry myself right out of it. Every. Single. Time. I thrive in times of catastrophe and chaos, and when I have times of the peace and tranquility that I want so badly, I am waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. My glass becomes half empty. I look for the bad in every situation, and if I don't find any I CREATE bad. I'm not sure why I do these things, why I try to sabotage myself at every turn, but I do it well, of that I am sure. Hopefully, now that I am aware of doing it, I can stop.

My outlook on life is changing, slowly but steadily. I look for the good in situations, and people. I make a conscientious effort not to judge a book by it's cover, and take time to get to know what is inside. I have removed toxic people from my life, and replaced them with positive, uplifting people who validate me and encourage healthy life choices. I make every effort not to hurt anyone, including myself.

I know myself well, and it is completely possible that I will be here tomorrow with a list of complaints about what is wrong in my life. Today, however, today I am happy. It was a really awesome ordinary day.

Sometime

Today I went to a viewing for a friend and co worker. I was planning to tell her story here, and make my case for health care reform. While I still think that health care is important, after this afternoon, that is not the story I want to tell today. I have been told that everything happens for a reason, and while I don't believe that, I do strongly believe that we need to try to make something positive come out of terrible, tragic situations. I fall sadly short of that mark on many occasions, but today, I would like to try, for my friend.

So many times in life, we take for granted the people we are around every day. The co workers, friends, and family members that we see on a daily basis, sometimes never for a second considering the possibility that a day will come when we won't see them ever again. We exchange cell phone numbers with vague promises to call "sometime" and get together. We work long boring nights together and remark that we should do something together "sometime". Well, what if "sometime" never comes? Today I watched my co workers and supervisors crying over these very things. I saw my friends family devastated beyond anything a person should have to withstand because they will never have another day with their daughter, fiance, mother. There is a lesson to be learned from this experience, one I hope to never forget.

If you care about someone, please, do not assume that they know how you feel. I cannot express how strongly I feel about that. I will no longer make plans for "sometime" with anyone. I will make sure to make time, no matter what the situation, to have a cup of coffee, a beer after work, lunch on a day off. It is too important, too vital to let people you like and admire know how you feel. Much more important than anything else I might have to do that day. We lead busy lives, to be sure. We juggle jobs, and homes, and families and still try to have a few minutes of peace for ourselves each day. I get that, I really do, and I would be willing to bet the person you want to do things with "sometime" does too. Why not make sometime now, and find out?

My Valued Customers (2)

Dear Valued Customers,

I want to tell you how much my fellow cashiers and I enjoyed giving up our Easter Sunday to make ourselves available for your shopping needs. We consider it a privilege and honor, as always. While everyone else was spending quality time with family and friends, we were enthusiastically spending quality time with you, our valued customers. The honor humbles me.

I have to wonder, however, if you were enjoying your holiday. You certainly were especially cranky today, to be sure. I am sure you were stressed, that is probably why you were so eager to curse us out. I might be stressed too, if I had to prepare a lovely holiday meal for my family and friends, I'm not sure, as my holidays are spent largely at Grocery World, being available to you. So to the gentleman who cursed me, and then my manager for a full 5 minutes a piece because our pharmacy wasn't opened today, I understand. Also, I sincerely apologize for smirking a little when after your cursing/screaming rampage, you turned to me and said happy Resurrection Day. That was probably uncalled for.

To the woman who demanded, full of Holy indignation, to know why we were opened on "the most Holy of Holy Days", I meant no disrespect when I said that we were opened because people want to shop. I'm sure you meant to buy your dinner before 2:00 pm on Easter Sunday, I was simply pointing out that we were there to give you the option to forget until then. Incidentally, no, I do not think that Grocery World is run by immoral heathens with no care for the fate of their or their employees souls. In all fairness, that was an uncalled for statement, too.

However, all good things come to an end, and my shift did end, all too soon, as usual. I am now home with my family. Dinner, though not prepared by me, was eaten by me, and I am spending the last part of this evening with my children
and grandson. Happy Easter once more.

Sincerely,
Your Cashier

Too Much Information

I think I am a reasonably nice person. I try to listen to others thoughts and feelings, and give them value. I genuinely do care about my friends lives, and I am more than happy to talk to any of them when they are having a problem, or when they are happy about some new development. I really, really am. Also, I should add that I pride myself on being friends with a wide variety of people. People of all different ages, religions, political beliefs. I am proud to say that I am able to maintain meaningful friendships regardless of our beliefs, and I enjoy learning about their perspective. However, there comes a point when enough is enough.

Lately, my homepage on facebook is filled with mildly nauseating status updates. "Going out with my baby", "missing my baby", "I love my baby". Gag. Do I really need to bear witness to people, supposedly adults, running their love life online? Is there no point that we keep some things behind closed doors? Mr. Wrong, being not the most mature person on the planet, has ran wild with this. For an entire week, I have recieved updates, texts, and even him SPEAKING "crossing the street with my baby", "shopping with my baby" , "My baby called me an ass", "Why did my baby just punch me? Now I'm sad". I'm telling you, it's out of control.

Just about an hour ago, while I was mentally preparing this very post, I logged into facebook. "Happy three month anniversary,baby! I love you!" So, this, though belated, is for my dear Mr. Wrong. Happy 212 month anniversary, baby!

Reconciliation

I'm here to tell ya people, reconciliation is HARD!

Every part of it is hard, every minute of it. After a break-up, especially a messy one, there are so many hurt feelings, it can seem at times an insurmountable task to try to mend them. There are bitter, painful resentments that go back years, and the pain is so raw, so real, that you find yourself wondering if there is any way to overcome them.

It takes work to reconcile. Hard work, from both people. There is no way around it, if both people aren't totally willing to work as long and as hard as necessary, the reconciliation will not work. Ever.

I am willing to work. I feel like I have been working hard every day for a month now. I want my marriage to work. I want my family to work. I want my home to be peaceful, happy, and filled with love and laughter. I want this for my children, my husband, and for myself. I can't help but feel, however, that I am fighting this battle by myself, sometimes. I feel like I listen to Mr. Wrong's needs, who he needs me to be, what he needs from me, and I work like hell to be that person, do those things. I don't succeed all the time, I know that. I get tired of trying sometimes and retreat temporarily into myself, and that scares him, I get that. I always try, though. Always.

Mr. Wrong, on the other hand, not so much, lately. Before I moved in, he tried. Hard. He was open, shared his feelings honestly, told me and showed me he loved me in a thousand small ways. I was a priority. I was important. I was loved.

I don't know why he seems to feel that my living with him can make those things unimportant, but apparently he does. I don't know how to make him see that I can't do this alone, because I did this alone before, for years. I ended up separated. I'm drowning, here. I just hope he sees that and throws me a life raft before it's too late.

The Art of Fighting

I strongly believe that the only way to have a good relationship is to have good communication. As I have openly admitted here before, I talk. A lot. All the time. One of the easiest, most certain ways to make me crazy, out of control mad is to walk away from me in the middle of an argument. Mr. Wrong does that. All. The. Time. If you cared enough to get involved in an argument, you have to care enough to see it through. Talk about it, yell about it, whatever. Just please finish it for crying out loud! We struggle with this often, lately. Mr. Wrong gets really angry, and walks away. I understand his reasoning. He feels that rather than saying mean, hurtful things, he would rather walk away and terminate the fight. This, however reasonable and rational it may sound, is not acceptable, or, in my opinion healthy.

Another issue in Casa de Wrong is that we don't have the same approach to disagreeing. I really try to lay my cards on the table, tell it like I see it, be upfront. This hasn't always been the case, I have downright lied in the past, and I am sincerely trying to make amends for that by doing better now. Mr. Wrong approaches things far differently. He hides. Everything. Then, when you least expect it, Bam! Out of the blue, he drops a bomb, it could be hours or even days later, like some kind of sneak attack. I am sure part of this is because I have lied to him in the past. I know the damage I have done. All I can do is try to do better now. I think part of this could also be just the difference between men and women. I don't get men. I never have, and have pretty much given up on the notion. My question now is, how do we move forward together if we aren't even speaking the same language?

Homecomming

I haven't posted much lately, I know. I am sure all of my many (3) regular readers have been wondering why. It's not that I have nothing to say, quite the opposite, in fact. I have a LOT to say, a lot to process. So much, in fact that I don't know where to begin.

About a month ago, there was a crisis in my family. Not a life or death crisis, everyone is fine, but a crisis that requires everyone's full attention nonetheless. No. Wait. I should back up here a second. Remember I spent Valentine's Day weekend with Mr. Wrong? Well, Mr. Wrong and I got along really well that weekend, and spent the next several weekends together after that. So, when the family crisis hit, we were in a pretty good place relationship wise. Not perfect, by any stretch, but good. So anyway, we have this crisis, and both Tinkerbell and Bear Cub come to me, separately, and ask me to move back in. Honestly, my fist thought was to say no. Were Mr. Wrong and I ready to live together? Was I ready to give up the independence I had fought so hard for, and finally had for the first time in my life? The more I thought about it though, my biggest objection was that Mr. Wrong didn't ask. Not once. He knew that the kids had asked me, I even jokingly said, in his earshot, Well, I haven't been invited yet. Not. One. Word. So, at the end of the weekend I asked him his thoughts. We had a long talk, and agreed it would be best for our family. So, here I am, living with Mr. Wrong! I am not going to say that it has been easy, because it is a lot of really hard work, every day. I can tell you that in a lot of ways, it is better than I thought it would be. It is a lot of work, but we are both working for the most part. There are glimpses of the way things were before a lot more frequently than I would like, and I have no idea how Mr. Wrong really feels about me, deep down. All of these things will need to be talked about, fought about, cried about. For the first time though, I have every confidence that they will be, and that is a good feeling.

There has been fallout because of my decision. My real friends were and are, cautiously optimistic, and as supportive as always. Other people, people who claim friendship, have been not so supportive. Have insinuated that I took the easy way out, that I gave up. This is far, far from the truth. I have learned so many things this past year, made many, many mistakes in the process, and I do not feel like I have taken the easy way out ever in my entire life. What they don't understand, what no one seems to get is that sometimes staying and working on a relationship takes more courage than leaving. Being willing to stand your ground and fight for what you believe in takes a much stronger person than it does to turn your back on your beliefs. Hopefully, we will come through all of this a stronger family, with a happy marriage. I truly believe that we can. If not, both of us will be able to say that we honestly tried with everything we have. That, my friends, is courage.

My Valued Customers

Dear Valued Customers,

I want to tell you, first and foremost, that I truly enjoy my job. I really do. I enjoy meeting you as I check your groceries, I like talking to your children, I don't even mind listening to you complain about my store. Honestly, I agree with many of your complaints, and I do sympathize. I wish things were better at Grocery World too, and hopefully they one day will be.

However, there are a few things that I feel I must discuss with you, just to keep communication lines open. It is my hope that by being honest and open with you we will be able to strengthen our relationship.

Valued customers, it's your WIC checks. I understand the necessity for the WIC program, and believe me when I say I do not begrudge you the assistance. Please, PLEASE, read your check before shopping for your items. It will tell you exactly what you can purchase with that check. Please gather those specific items and when you have completed your shopping, come to my line. If you are confused as to which items or brands you are able to buy, there is a flyer inside of your WIC folder with each and every item, and pictures. Separate these items from the rest of your order, and inform me that you have a WIC order when I greet you, before I start ringing your order. As much as I would love to be your personal shopper, here at Grocery World we do not offer that service, and when I am running from isle to isle, gathering the proper items, the customers behind you get angry. At me. They glare, and say mean nasty things that make me sad and hurt my feelings. This is not all your fault, as I am sensitive. My family says I am delicate.

I appreciate your taking the time to read this. I feel better, and I hope you do too. I trust you will do your best to honor my request, and in turn, I will try to be less sensitive. This will take work on both our parts. I'm delicate.

Sincerely Yours,
Your Cashier

Things are getting curiouser and curiouser

I don't know what I want.

Have you kind of figured that out by now? Reading through my blog, does the underlying fact that I don't have a clue what the hell I am doing ring clear in everyone's mind? Okay, great. Now that we have that out in the open, I feel much better. I am really big on honesty.

So, I have been dreading this weekend for months now. I don't like Valentines day at all, and this year it loomed ahead, refusing to be ignored almost as soon as I rang the New Year in. Red and pink, everywhere I looked. Stupid commercials on the television. Mushy I-love-you-so-much-I-am-so-glad-you're-in-my-life cards leering at me in stores. I wanted nothing more than for this weekend NOT to happen. So I made a plan. I made a CD of the saddest lost love songs I could find, made a slide show of all of my exes on my media player, and planned to watch all of the pictures, listen to my CD, eat Ben and Jerry's, and cry myself to sleep. Not the best plan, okay, I'll give you that. It was my plan though, and in a sick, weird way, I kind of liked my plan.

Then it happened. On Friday, I found out that I needed to do something that I had no idea how to do by myself. The only person I knew who I could ask for help? Mr.Wrong. Yeah. So, I swallowed my pride, and called him to ask if he would be willing to help me, which would require me to stay the night at his house. After some conversation, he agreed to help me early on Saturday morning, I could come over on Friday night with my kids. Great. The strangest thing happened. We had a really good weekend. I know! I played with BabyG, we talked, We had a good time. Such a good time, in fact, that I stayed an extra night to watch BabyG so Tinkerbell could go on a date. We shopped together, cooked for our kids together, joked, laughed, played with our kids. I was having such a good time, in fact, that I forgot I was supposed to be miserable. Unbelievable. Incredible. Weird. How was your Valentine's Day?

Cast of Characters

It occurred to me that I am going to have to refer to the people in my life occasionally. So for confidentiality purposes, I have re named these people and I am going to present them all now, to avoid confusion.

1. Mr.Wrong- my almost but not technically ex husband. Depending on how badly he pisses me off, he could also be referred to here as King Douche.

2. Mama Ho- my best friend and roommate. Hopeless shopaholic, heart of gold, with an unfortunate innate ability to pick the wrong life partners.

3. Baby Whore- Daughter of Mama Ho, lives in the room next to mine. She is 22, and acts it most of the time. She likes to sleep, watch TV, and eat Ben and Jerry's.

4. The Enforcer- Son of Mama Ho. He lives down the street from us with Mama's ex#2. He comes over as needed to bring children in line. He makes me laugh.

5. Fluffy- son of Mama Ho. He lives here part time. He is twelve. He likes to fight with the other children in the house. Then we send him back to the enforcer.

6. Prostitot- daughter of Mama Ho. She is 9 but she thinks she is 25. She likes to tell us where babies come from. She will demonstrate for you with her teddy bear if you want. She scares me.

7. Juicy- My daughter. She lives far away now. She lives with her boyfriend, Lump.
Juicy just turned 21. She thinks its funny to drunk text me. I am not amused.

8. Tinkerbell- My daughter. She is 16, and the mother of BabyG. She is tough as nails on the outside, fiercly loyal, and a great mom. She has quite a temper.

9. Bear Cub- My son. He is 15. He likes to play video games. He does NOT like heart to heart talks with his mother.

10. Alley Cat- My daughter. She is 12 years old, she also thinks she is 25. She is very fashion conscience. Usually she is very sweet, but she can turn on you in a heartbeat if you make her mad.

11. Bug- My youngest son. He is 8. He thinks his mother is the greatest person in the world. I like that.

12. BabyG.- My grandson. He is 8 months old. I think he is the greatest baby in the world.

13. Pokey- Mama Ho's boyfriend. He doesnt talk much. He sleeps a lot. We have bitchfests about him often. Mama Ho leads the bitchfests.

14. Basement Dweller- He lives here too, in the basement. He plays video games. All. The. Time. That's about all he does. We see him when he is hungry.

So, that is us. Much more to come!

A meme for Fun

The rules are simple: Hit shuffle on your iPod (or whatever mp3 player or your music library on your computer) then answer each question by hitting next.

Q: What does next year have in store for you?
A: Greedy Room by Three Days Grace

Q: What does your love life look like next year?
A: 867-5309 Jenny by Tomy Tunes (lmao!)

Q: What do you say when life gets hard?
A: These Walls by Trapt

Q: Song that reminds you of good times?
A: Rain by Breaking Benjamin

Q: What do you think when you get up in the morning?
A: Echo by Trapt

Q: What song will you dance to at your wedding?
A: Not So Unusual by Jason Mraz

Q: Song that reminds you of your first kiss?
A: I Feel Good by James Brown (I love this!)

Q: Your favorite saying?
A: I Hope You Die by Bloodhound Gang ( Perfect!)

Q: Favorite place?
A: Here Without You by Three Doors Down (Ben and Jerrys now please!)

Q: Most Missed Memory?
A: Maybe this Time by Glee Cast

Q: What song describes your best friend?
A: Bella Luna by Jason Mraz (she approves)

Q: What song describes your ex?
A: Weather Man Three Days Grace

Q: Where would you go on a first date?
A: Just to see you smile Tim McGraw (I'm such a romantic!)

Q: Drug of choice?
A: Tonight Not Again by Jason Mraz (I don't get this one)

Q: What song describes you?
A: Born Like This Three Days Grace (Speechless!)

Q: What is the thing you like doing most?
A: Stranger Than Fiction Five Finger Death Punch

Q: The song that best describes the president?
A: Somebody to Love by Glee Cast

Q: Where will you be in 10 years?
A: Did You Get My Message Jason Mraz ( Crap I'm STILL gonna be lost)

Q: Your love life right now?
A: Crossroads John Mayer (Perfect!)

Q: What is your state of mind like at the moment?
A: Greedy Room Three Days Grace

Q: How will you die?
A: Criminal Justin Nozuka

The Real Me

You say that you want me back, but I have to wonder, do you even know who I am? I have to warn you, the person you knew, the person you say you miss, doesn't exist anymore. Actually, she never really did exist. The reality is, I made her up. I knew what was expected, knew exactly who everyone wanted me to be, so that's exactly who I was. I wasn't really trying to lie, that was never my intention. I just knew, at the very core, where the real truth can be found, that I wasn't good enough. For anyone. Not for you, certainly not for these amazing people who called me mommy. So, I tried. I really and honestly tried to be the person that everyone wanted, needed, me to be. I was better at it than I thought. I did it so well for so long that I kind of forgot who I really am. I don't know if I ever really knew the real me, but I do now, and from now on, that is who I will be, for better or worse.

Do you know what it's like to have the people you love more than life itself look at you differently? To be in a crowded place, and have strangers look at you with disapproval, judgment, or, in extreme cases, even outright disgust? Do you know what it like to look at those same people and know that they have the right to cast a vote regarding the validity of your soul? I do, now. These things do something to a person. Not necessarily bad things. It makes you stronger, thicker skinned. It gives you a sort of jagged edge, a protection of sorts. The tough, sharp outer layer necessary to protect the soft, bruised interior.

So, before you say something like you want me back, you need to take time. Take time to know who I am, all of me, even the parts you don't like. This is who I am now, and I'm not sure I fit in your world anymore. Are you?

It's Time

I have always been a pacifist by nature. I don't believe in fighting hatred with hatred, I don't believe in guns, or war. I do, however, believe that we have a military, young men and women who risk their lives to defend our country, my country, and that we as citizens should be thankful, and respectful of what they do. All of them. No matter who they are. Even if they happen to be gay.

It has always seemed rather sad to me, that we ask people to risk their lives to fight for our freedom, while denying them the most basic of freedoms, the freedom to be who they are. I never understood how the leaders of our country failed to see the hypocrisy in that. Yesterday, Colin Powell actually agreed with me.
"Attitudes and circumstances have changed," Powell said. "It's been a whole generation" since the legislation was adopted, and there is increased "acceptance of gays and lesbians in society," he said. "Society is always reflected in the military. It's where we get our soldiers from."

I have known people who have been discharged from the military for being lesbians. Personally, I really don't understand why a gay person would choose to serve in a military that clearly doesn't want them to be there. That is the beauty of choice, and I respect their choice to serve. I don't respect the fact that, since the inception of DADT 17 years ago, 13,500 men and women have been discharged. 13,500 careers ruined, livelihoods lost, because of sexual orientation. That, in my eyes, is not acceptable.

I am fully aware that once DADT is repealed, all hell is going to break loose. Sadly, even in 2010, homophobia can be deadly. I fear for the safety of the brave men and women who will proudly announce to the world who they are. Words cannot express my pride in them all. I am hopeful, that with the repeal we will pave the way for the next step, when, at long last, all men and women have the right to marry the person that they love, and live with dignity and respect. Because it's right. Because it's time.

The Rules

It has come to my attention that there are some people in this world who, for whatever reason, just don't understand how to behave in society. Sadly, these poor misguided souls are wandering free in this world just waiting to behave like a douche cake. I don't blame them, as I said, I am not about blame, it's just the way they are. However, as of late, one such douche cake has been making my otherwise peaceful little world, umm, unpeaceful, shall we say. So, in a very Zen, peace loving way, I am going to explain the rules, as I see them.

1. Don't say ignorant, nasty things is text messages. Really? Assuming you aren't 12, you can express yourself in a respectful way, I am sure. Actually, as adults, I think if you have a serious matter to discuss, it should be done at least on the phone, if not in person. Seriously, some things are just not appropriate for text messages.

2. If you are arguing, please stay on topic. For the love of God, don't bring up last month, last year, last decade if you are arguing about something that is happening now. It is just not necessary, it won't get you anywhere, and you look like a douche cake. I'm sorry, you do. The past is in the past, move on.

3. Closely related to 2, if you are angry at me, please direct your anger, and therefore your insults, at me. Do not bring my friends into it. Your problem is not with them, but if you fuck with my friends, you will have more problems with me than you ever imagined. Do not push me on this point, I will not budge.

4. If you are going through a breakup, please remember that no matter how wronged you may feel, everyone deserves to be happy. Everyone. Even your ex. Please don't lower yourself to trying to sabotage every good time you find out your ex might be having. Very uncool! Again, your douche cake-ness is going to show through, you will end up looking like a jackass, and your ex will still have a good time.

5. We have all made mistakes. None of us here on earth are perfect, unless you happen to be God, or Buddha, or someone. When confronted with your mistake, for fucks sake, admit to them. Don't automatically point your finger at someone else in a pitiful attempt to pin the blame on them. Own it, admit it, if you can be genuine, apologize, and move on. Again, the past is in the past.

6. When someone apologizes to you, and you accept said apology, let the matter end there. Life is short my friends, to short to hold on to resentments, so, again, let the past be the past, and lets try to make tomorrow better, shall we?

7. Do not cyberstalk! I can't stress this point enough! This is not only making you look again like a douche, but it is gross, and creepy, and, just fyi, punishable by law.

8. When you break up with an ex, and you say it's over, for fucks sake, let it be over. Do not assume that you still have "ownership" over your ex. That is probably part of the reason that they are your ex. No one "owns" another person. Trying to act like you do, will not make it come true, but it will make you an asshole.

9. If you do, by whatever means, gain information about an ex in regards to a new relationship, my best advice to you would be to ignore it. If you become more fixated on the new person than your ex is....you guessed it...douche cake.

10. If your relationship produced children, for the love of God, please leave the children out of your fights. Do not pump the poor souls for information about your ex's activities. This is lower than the lowest thing you could possibly do, and no normal human being will tolerate it. Stop this at one you fuckface!

There is a lot more I could say on this topic, but that is all for now. God bless you.

Words

I love words.

If you happen to know me in "real life", you can attest to this. Do I not talk more than anyone you know? Do I not start conversations with random strangers in grocery store lines? Do I not say goodbye at least three times before actually hanging up the phone? Send text messages that could be novellas? Would I not talk to a TREE if left with no other option? Yeah, that would be me. If you don't know me in "real life", the fact that I have a blog might be a clue. I love words.

This is why I was so upset today, when reading some amazing blogs that I have fallen behind on lately, I found out that a school board in California has banned the dictionary! Apparently, the dictionary has a definition for "oral sex" and cannot possibly be useful for a fourth and fifth grade research library.

I have a fourth grade student. I haven't asked him, but I am reasonably sure that he has no idea what oral sex is. My roommate has a fourth grade student as well. Again, I have not asked, but I am reasonably sure she does know what oral sex is. I am equally sure neither of them have looked the term up in a dictionary.

I am not sure why one child most likely does know and one likely doesn't. My son is rather immature for his age, as the youngest of five, I think that is common. Her daughter is the youngest of four, and very mature for her age. If my son were to ask me what it was, I would most likely tell him, because I believe in answering these types of questions honestly as they are asked.

Now, I should pause here and explain that my parenting style has been criticized more than once. Mostly by people who have no children, but occasionally by people who do. I don't believe in bedtimes, I encourage my children to question authority. Respectfully, but question rather than blindly follow. I also don't think the world is going to come to an end if my kids are really angry and use a "dirty" or "bad" word. When I was a little girl, my grandmother told me that words like fuck or shit weren't bad words. They were ugly words, that shouldn't be said, but words like hate and war are "bad" words. Perhaps that is why I feel the way I do. I have a tendency to let the words fly myself when I am angry. I don't like my kids to say those words because I think it makes them sound rather stupid, and my children are all amazingly smart. They will get in trouble with me if they use words like gay, or fag, or queer as an insult. Luckily, that rarely if ever happens.

My point is this. We can ban books, we can make words taboo, we can shelter children to amazing lengths, but what are we accomplishing? Perhaps, instead of taking things away, instead of hiding the things that make us as parents uncomfortable, we should talk with our children. Maybe we should look up dirty words in the dictionary together, as we all did as children, and giggle with our children over the tantalizing definitions, then explain them, discuss their thoughts. Maybe then we will truly be acting with our kids best interest at heart, and we can make this world the kind of world we all keep saying we want.

The Things I Carry With Me

Ten years ago, I carried a two year old little girl. She was loving, adorable, and instantly loved by everyone who saw her. Her two older sisters and one older brother were with me constantly, not carried, but attached none the less, with sticky hands and firm, sturdy arms. I carried a diaper bag, too. It held spare clothes, cheerios, boo-boo tape (band-aids) and blankies.

Today, that two year old is a beautiful, blonde, older than her years twelve year old. She has compassion, and a strong sense of right and wrong. Her oldest sister is now far away from us, living her own life, and missed terribly by all of us. Her other sister is now a mom with a diaper bag of her own, and her older brother has somehow changed from my beautiful little boy into a handsome, quiet teenager. They have been joined by another brother, now eight years old. My diaper bag has been replaced by one of many hand bags, depending on my mood, and the cheerios have been replaced by mints and gum, but they are still carried mainly for them, just like the cheerios.

Ten years ago, my son died. I carried the grief of his passing clearly, the pain raw and exposed, probably to the point of making other people uncomfortable around me. His name was spoken in whispers around me, kindness showed to me by caring people afraid to open the wound that had not yet begun to heal. I remember thinking at the time that it never would heal.

I was right. That kind of wound never does heal fully. After experiencing pain that deep, that all consuming, you are left forever with a void. The void can not be filled, not with more children, sex, alcohol or drugs. The pain, however, does lessen. One day you wake up, and you realize that you can breathe, that life has been going on all around you, and people are depending on you, looking to you to help them with their grief and pain. It is always with me, and always will be. The pain has changed me, and carrying it has made me stronger, I think, and so appreciative of my children it's hard to let them grow up sometimes.

Ten years ago, I carried an engagement ring and a wedding ring on my left ring finger. They were symbols to the world, and to myself, that I belonged to someone. I wore them proudly, and in really bad times in my marriage, would look at them and tell myself they meant that I was okay, that I was loved. Ten years ago, I carried with me a deep, all encompassing need to be loved no matter what. I truly believed that if I was loved, if I was "in love", nothing else mattered, I was complete, a whole person. I could overlook anything, as long as I was "in love".

Today, my left ring finger is empty. My rings were taken off, and my marriage is over. They were replaced, briefly, wrongly by other rings, on two separate occasions. Not wedding rings, but symbols none the less. I was "in love", someone loved me, so therefore, I was okay. I no longer carry that need. Today, I feel that the word love is so highly overused, and so misused, that I don't believe in being "in love" anymore. It is a big realization for me to come to, that I don't believe in love. Of course, I love my children, but the other love, the intoxicating, you complete me, you had me at hello, love? No, I honestly don't believe in it anymore. That is kind of sad, I think, but it's okay for now, I'm good with that.

Ten years ago, I carried a secret. I hid this secret from everyone, guarding it with everything in me. I hid it, most especially, from myself. I thought about it sometimes, during long, sleepless nights. I would quickly force myself to think of something, anything else. To reveal the secret to myself, to open it up, lay it out and examine it, would mean questioning everything in my entire life. It would mean questioning my motherhood, my marriage, my role as a daughter, a sister, a friend. Doing that would require a strength almost super human, I thought, although I knew that many, many people had. I applauded them silently, in some hidden corner of my heart even envied them, but I knew, no matter what, I could never be like them.

Today, that secret is still with me. It isn't as guarded or protected anymore, shared with trusted, loyal friends and, finally, myself. The amazing thing is, I didn't die! No one has turned their back on me, no one has stopped talking to me, no one has told me I am no longer welcome in their life. I am humbled and saddened that I didn't give these amazing people the credit that they deserved from the beginning. Because of their openness, their acceptance, their love, I have been able to slowly, timidly, but with growing confidence, open my circle and share my secret with more and more people. People like me, people like you, people willing to turn a light on dark places, and prove, once and for all, that their is nothing so scary in the darkness. I lack the words to express my gratitude to them all.

My load was pretty heavy ten years ago, and I am so grateful that is is so much lighter today. There were a lot of bad things, a lot of painful, scary places that I wouldn't want my worst enemy to go through. I wouldn't change any of it though, looking back. All of the things I carried then have brought me to the place that I am now. While far, far, from perfect, I am in a pretty good place today, and for the first time in my life, I can't wait to see what happens next.

Trust

"I don't trust you."

You say those words to me every single time we speak these days. I can't help but find that amusing. YOU can't trust ME?

When you held me, suspended off of the ground by my throat, my only thought a desperate prayer that my child wouldn't see my dead body on the ground, I trusted you when you said it wouldn't happen again.

When, years later, you begged me not to leave for 6 months, and promised you wouldn't call me the horrible, nasty things you called me anymore, I trusted you. When, at the end of those 6 months, I was 3 months pregnant with our fourth child, you swore life would be better. I trusted you.

Later still, after knowing how unsatisfied you were with my weight, and my appearance, I lost 100 lbs. I felt confidence I never experienced before. When you told me I could lose 100 more pounds and it wouldn't matter "because you can't lose ugly" I trusted you.

After years of sobriety, when you started drinking again, and I again lived through the physical abuse that comes with your drunken anger, I held to the promise you made to me, that our family would always come first. We lost our home, because you would rather drink than pay bills, and still, I trusted you.

Finally, after years of ignoring bruises and hurtful comments, you told me you hadn't loved me in years. I had worked my absolute hardest to be a good wife, and you told me that my best wasn't good enough. I trusted you.

I know that I have done some things that seem unlike anything I would ever do. I know that I hurt you, and that you are confused by my actions. I am truly sorry that I hurt you, I really am. I don't even try to use your past actions and behavior to justify myself, because I am not about making excuses. I don't expect you to understand me, I don't ask you to like me, but you don't TRUST me? I'm sorry, you have one Hell of a nerve!

Tonights festivities

So, tonight my ex is supposed to be coming over to "talk". Given the horrible mood I have been in since Sunday, this is probably NOT the best time for us to have a conversation. Given the fact that my ex is no longer on medication, this is probably the WORST time for us to see, hear, smell, or otherwise acknowledge each others presence. Call it a hunch, I'm not expecting great communication, open and honest sharing, mutual respect for each others feelings, and a friendly hug at the conclusion.

You may be wondering why, in 2010, with endless technology, we need to "talk" in person. A very good question. The issue here is, when we talk on the phone, he hangs up on me. I. HATE. TO. BE. HUNG. UP. ON!!! Slam a door in my face, scream at me, SPIT in my face if you must, just don't ever hang up on me. Ever. He does it every time. So, I tried e mailing him. He deletes e mails he doesn't wish to read. Lovely. So, in the interest of saving my sanity, I told him that any future conversations we have will have to be in person. I need to buy some wine. A lot of wine. Don't judge me, we all do what we gotta do.

The topics to be covered in this edition of the war of the roses are, as I understand them:

1. Me taking permanent, full custody of all of my children. Ok, nothing would make me happier, however, I already have all but one of my children with me, and he is not giving me any more money than when I only had two children. Also, I live in my friends house, and there are many, many other people living here. Unless I am supposed to hang my son from my over crowded closet, I don't know where he is supposed to sleep.

2. The fact that since I moved out in August, he has apparently not paid a single bill. I want my house. My children want my house. He wants me to have my children. Now, I am not a rocket scientist, but it seems to me if he would pay the bills, I could have my house, and my kids, and he could go on his merry way. Why am I the only one that sees the beauty in this plan? I don't know. People should listen to me, I tell ya, I'm smart!

3. The status of our divorce. Hmm, here's where the curses start to really fly. Depending on the day, he has a lawyer, has papers ready, doesn't want a divorce, wants me back, wants full custody, wants no custody, what the hell? How do I reason with the unreasonable?

So, yeah, I need to buy some wine. I need to meditate, and go to my happy place where no mean words are spoken, clouds are pink marshmallows, and pretty unicorns poop jelly beans, cause this is gonna be one HELL of a night!

More about me than you wanted to know

Since I am now in my "emotional cripple" phase and really don't want to explore that anymore than absolutely necessary, thankyouverymuch, I found this online and thought it would be fun. You should do it too!


1. How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are? Um, depends on the day I guess, recently an immature 2 at best, usually, probably close to my real age.



2. Which is worse, failing or never trying? Probably never trying, but that doesn't mean I think you should try in every situation.


3. If life is so short, why do we do so many things we don’t like and like so many things we don’t do? Lot's of reasons, money, obligations, responsibilities




4. When it’s all said and done, will you have said more than you’ve done? Wow, yeah probably...I should change that though.




5. What is the one thing you’d most like to change about the world? I would make people embrace differences and diversity




6. If happiness was the national currency, what kind of work would make you rich? Something that was important, probably with children




7. Are you doing what you believe in, or are you settling for what you are doing?
Depends on how this is meant. If doing is work, then definitely, I'm settling.




8. If the average human life span was 40 years, how would you live your life differently? Wow, well Im 41, so I guess I would be living like every day was a gift at this point.




9. To what degree have you actually controlled the course your life has taken? I don't think I controlled it at all for a long time. I'm trying really hard to change that now.




10. Are you more worried about doing things right, or doing the right things? Hmm, I worry about both! Probably more about doing things right though.




11. You’re having lunch with three people you respect and admire. They all start criticizing a close friend of yours, not knowing she is your friend. The criticism is distasteful and unjustified. What do you do? I would defend my friend.


12. If you could offer a newborn child only one piece of advice, what would it be? Always be true to yourself.




13. Would you break the law to save a loved one? without question




14. Have you ever seen insanity where you later saw creativity? I don't think you can have one without the other.




15. What’s something you know you do differently than most people? Um, I always stir my coffee 5 times. Always.




16. How come the things that make you happy don’t make everyone happy? I guess because we are all different, but it would be great if they could wouldnt it?




17. What one thing have you not done that you really want to do? What’s holding you back? There is a phone call that I REALLY want to make, but making it could disrupt a lot of peoples lives.




18. Are you holding onto something you need to let go of? Haha, uh, yeah!




19. If you had to move to a state or country besides the one you currently live in, where would you move and why? Probably Oregon. Because it beautiful, and more environmentally friendly.




20. Do you push the elevator button more than once? Do you really believe it makes the elevator faster? Yes, I do, and no, I don't. So I don't know why I do it. Don't judge me.




21. Would you rather be a worried genius or a joyful simpleton? A joyful simpleton. Joyful sounds fun.




22. Why are you, you? Because if I wasn't who would be?




23. Have you been the kind of friend you want as a friend? I hope so.




24. Which is worse, when a good friend moves away, or losing touch with a good friend who lives right near you? Wow, not sure which is worse. Both hurt like hell.




25. What are you most grateful for? My kids. Even when they piss me off.




26. Would you rather lose all of your old memories, or never be able to make new ones? See, the Buddhist in me should say that old memories mean nothing and to live in the now, but I couldn't give up my old memories




27. Is is possible to know the truth without challenging it first? I'm sure its possible, but I always challenge




28. Has your greatest fear ever come true? Yes.





29. Do you remember that time 5 years ago when you were extremely upset? Does it really matter now? Yes. They all mattered.




30. What is your happiest childhood memory? What makes it so special? No specific memory, just remember the security that comes with childhood.





31. At what time in your recent past have you felt most passionate and alive? This past summer when I took control of my life




32. If not now, then when? Now. Now or Never




33. If you haven’t achieved it yet, what do you have to lose? Sometimes everything.




34. Have you ever been with someone, said nothing, and walked away feeling like you just had the best conversation ever? Absolutely! I have been fortunate to know several amazing people with that ability.




35. Why do religions that support love cause so many wars? They don't accept anyones values or beliefs other than their own




36. Is it possible to know, without a doubt, what is good and what is evil? In extreme cases, yes. I think that there is a lot of grey area between the two however.




37. If you just won a million dollars, would you quit your job? Hell yes!! I would find one that meant something though, I wouldn't just not work.




38. Would you rather have less work to do, or more work you actually enjoy doing? More work I enjoy doing. Hard work doesn't scare me, boredom does.




39. Do you feel like you’ve lived this day a hundred times before? Sadly, yes




40. When was the last time you marched into the dark with only the soft glow of an idea you strongly believed in? August 27, 2009




41. If you knew that everyone you know was going to die tomorrow, who would you visit today? Well this question just sucks! Guess I would have to make the a fore mentioned phone call.




42. Would you be willing to reduce your life expectancy by 10 years to become extremely attractive or famous? No. When I was younger I might have said yes, but not now.




43. What is the difference between being alive and truly living? Living honestly




44. When is it time to stop calculating risk and rewards, and just go ahead and do what you know is right? When you know longer have a choice.




45. If we learn from our mistakes, why are we always so afraid to make a mistake? Cause mistakes are painful and hurt like hell. Duh!




46. What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you? Everything!




47. When was the last time you noticed the sound of your own breathing? On the track




48. What do you love? Have any of your recent actions openly expressed this love? I love my kids, and I really hope that my actions express that, because everything I do is for them.




49. In 5 years from now, will you remember what you did yesterday? What about the day before that? Or the day before that? In some form, yes. It all matters.




50. Decisions are being made right now. The question is: Are you making them for yourself, or are you letting others make them for you? I make them, because of others, or for the best interest of others, but I make my own decisions, for better or worse.