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?