Sometimes…
I’m too gullible.
I give people the benefit of the doubt.
I forgive and let people hurt me again.
I believe people even when I see red flags and holes in the story.
I just want to believe the best about everyone.
I get hurt.
I get my heart broken.
But…
I got to dream for just a while.
I got to enjoy some attention.
I got to believe sweet things about myself.
Some day maybe…
I will accept that if it sounds too good to be true, it very likely is.
Last night I had a dream. Actually 2 dreams. It was a rather odd night of vivid images that were just plain weird. I don’t usually remember my dreams but as I was having a pretty fitful night I’m not shocked they stayed with me this time. So intense, so real and so off the wall that they have kinda stayed right there with me all day.
The first was that QFB/Queenie, the old former friend that I was once very close too, and I made up. Yes I know, and no hell did not freeze over which is a good indication that it was just that, a dream (some would say nightmare). She came to me, all tears etc about how much she misses me and our friendship. Yep and the Bengals might go to the Superbowl! But it was crystal clear down to her perfume and red nails. I hold no hope of that, but not from my side. You know me, I’m forgiving to a fault. From her side of the equation that is about as likely as pigs flying.
The other dream involved my marrying Long Beach and moving to a beautiful home he claims he has in Long Beach, California. Again, entirely too vivid for my taste. I’ve never met him, just heard his voice and seen photos, but my brain did one heck of a job of creating the house, the man, the rings, the hugs, the sleeping by his side…even his cat! Seeing as how he has dropped off the face of the earth again (he tends to do this disappearing act), this was definitely a dream. My imaginary dream man! One entirely too good to come true, as I suspected from our first encounter years ago. He nearly had me convinced he was for real this time. But my belief holds true, never trust anyone who doesn’t have a Facebook. Or who shares a birthday with the ex!
I woke up both times totally confused and having to spend a few minutes orienting myself to my surroundings, checking my hand for wedding bands, and thinking hard before confirming that yes those were dreams.
I write it all off to the sinus infection I have and the lack of meds to treat it until today. I’m thinking I seriously need to put lavender oil on my pillows tonight, too much weirdness when I don’t.
I’m beginning to think my returning to school for 2 weeks, beginning next week and then into a full time job for a while is a good thing. Too much time playing with virtual animals and farms and my brain is confusing reality and fantasy! I need the insurance and farming crops on the computer in FarmVille2 is just not getting it done.
But until next week, this is what will keep me busy. Speaking of which, I have chickens to feed.
No matter how good something is, if it isn’t what you want, it won’t make you happy.
The bathroom for example. When I was married, I wanted it rag-rolled with a mauve color. I went away for the weekend, came home, and the ex-hubs had painted the bathroom to surprise me. Well him and my VERY pregnant BFF. He expected I would be tickled to death. I was less than thrilled. He painted it, rag-rolled it even….GREEN! Then was upset that I wasn’t dancing a happy jig over it. Sorry. Yes it was splendid of him to paint the bathroom. It was institutional WHITE. Now, the green was better but it was not at all what I wanted so I was not happy. I often wanted to paint the longest wall in the house that ran between our living room and dinning room red. He poo-poo’d that over and over. My daughter, since our divorce, asked to paint the living room. It’s ALL red now. Go figure. His memory fails him, he seems to think I wanted it white. I wanted COLOR. I was so envious of my BFF’s house cause she had color everywhere. But we never agreed on color so it stayed creamy white like a damn mental hospital. Oh well water under the bridge. Our His home looks amazing. His girlfriend and our daughter have awesome taste.
Relationships are complicated things. They take work. Even the very best of them take effort. Great, life long unions don’t just happen. Sometimes one or both parties have to roll up their sleeves, or ignore things, or just accept things, and sometimes work hard to keep the flames burning. But in the end they are worth it! Except. Except when it isn’t what you want.
What happens when you stumble along in life and trip over someone who cherishes you, adores everything about you, loves you beyond words, can love you right down off that cliff of anger and temper you are famous for at times (though far less volatile than before thanks to better living through modern medicine), and wants to spend the rest of their life making your life amazing….and you just aren’t ready for it? Someone who takes every imperfection you have along with all of your good stuff, and wants it ALL. BUT you simply are not ready to go there?
This isn’t the first time I’ve walked away from my biker. We gave it another go after the split up a few weeks back. He is all of those things, his heart is huge and he is a very very good man and adores everything about me. But I am not ready. While it seems like we’ve been a couple forever, it has only been just about 3.5 months. Had we gone down the road we were planning, we’d have been married last weekend. And I would be far less than happy. It is just not what I want. And I don’t know if I ever want that again. I do love the man, but I am not at all ready to be married, let alone in a committed relationship. I thought I was and ditched my plans of 2012 being MY year. But despite the warnings, “keep your arms and legs inside the ride”, this morning I unhooked the safety belt and bailed from the ride. And it was just that, a safety belt.
There is something ‘safe’ and secure in a relationship. Even one where you spend most of it being fired upon by life. Hell I’m used to that, for 22 years every time Pete and I turned around it was something else coming at us like a freight train hauling disaster. So this time around it wasn’t new, I knew how to cope. But that is just it, I don’t want to cope. Because I don’t want a relationship. I don’t want the safety and security of being loved right now. It doesn’t matter that someone worships the ground I walk on, and that I love him, if I’m not happy. It all was moving just entirely too damn fast and deep, and the timing is all wrong.
Maybe I am selfish. I’ve written about it, my world revolves around ME. My life and my world is all about ME. For 2012 especially. In my world things I bring in, people I let in, bottom line are for ME. Selfish perhaps but that is just how I am right now. 22 years of someone being center of my world, and just over 2 years out from that, and I am just not ready to go back to making someone else the center. It’s all about Marti right now. I tried like hell but then I wasn’t happy. I just cannot face not being happy with ME because I decided to go forward with something when I am clearly not ready. My kids are grown, my marriage ended…a few try-and-failed loves since….but not yet have I taken the time to just enjoy life for ME. I cannot make anyone else a priority when I have yet to make myself the priority. So, I got off the ride. I am sorry he is hurting, but I cannot be what he needs right now. I cannot make him a priority, and that simply isn’t fair to him. It doesn’t matter how much he loves me, what he is willing to give me, do for me etc., when that isn’t what I want. Friends, I am all over being friends. But not lovers, not a team. Not husband and wife and not committed.
Am I wrong? Or did I do the right thing?
I’m in a totally fragmented, random kind of mood. Nothing deep, just typically odd for me. I’m freaky like that. Some call me weird, I say gifted. Regardless of how you define it, I’m so very unique. Quirky, fun, funny, odd, sarcastic, kind, loving, forgiving….yeah like that. I have NO idea where this is headed, just random things in my brain. Consider it a peek into the garden, and be thankful. I don’t open that gate often to the world.
Coming out of the ‘crazy time’, per the book I was reading and have referenced in previous blogs, I thought perhaps I was finally ready to try out relationships again. By that I mean relationships now that I’ve gotten past … Continue reading
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Ever have one of those days when you just SO want to pick up your bowl of corn flakes and throw it at the wall, milk, spoon and all? Yeah, well today is that day for me. Only I’d not stop at the bowl of cereal, it would be closely followed by the whole box, gallon jug of milk, the fresh pineapple, cup of coffee, container of baby puffs and the sippy cup that happen to be on the table as well. I stopped throwing things years ago, so that won’t happen, but I still feel like it.
I am very different, don't look down your nose at me. I am unique, you are ordinary!
I am likely one of the most misunderstood people I know. What you see is what you get, make no mistake about that. The thick, sassy bitch exterior is very much part of who I am. But it is there as outer armor, protecting the rest of me. When you go through life so different (I was the kid in grade school that wore purple, high top tennis shoes with my blue, white and gray uniform skirt and white blouse and socks) you need to build up a very strong shell. That bitchy side of me comes out in my writings but so does my vulnerable, soft side. That is what happens when one writes from their heart, you get to see a lot more of them, and it isn’t all pretty.
When I began my blogging adventure years ago on Myspace, I promised myself I would never censor what I write, and I don’t. This doesn’t always sit well with people who read my posts, especially if they or something/someone they feel strongly about is the subject of the moment. (here comes the bitchy side) Tough shit. Don’t like it? Don’t read it. You change the channel on your television if you don’t like what is on, get off my blog page if you don’t care for it. Very simple.
Now I admit that there are days I free flow on my writing, and then save it away for later and come back to edit. But mostly that is to edit for spelling, and to be sure that the tone I am thinking in is coming across in my writing. I do sometimes see where I have been unreasonably harsh and will curb that to some degree. But one thing I will always do is be honest with my writing. I am true to myself. When I share my thoughts and experiences or feelings, they are MINE, from MY perspective. Simply because your perspective and feelings do not match my own does not mean I am wrong, or for that matter you are, it only means our experiences with that subject matter are DIFFERENT. So deal with it. Our mistakes are our own. And our emotions and thoughts are as well. I for one have no issue taking ownership of my thoughts, experiences, emotions or mistakes. My life is all about ME.
I refuse to be conformed to anyone else’s standards of what I should be. I am my own person, unique, quirky, completely special. I hear the beat of an eccentric drummer compared to most of society. I don’t go with the flow simply to make life easier for anyone else, I tend to swim against the current and take the unpopular path. It can make me hard to read, understand or deal with, and frankly I don’t mind that. I’m far from predictable. Just when folks think they know exactly what I will do, how I will react, I change the direction. So just because you think you know me, don’t hold your breath, the rug is likely about to be yanked right out from under you. At least I am never boring!
For 23 years I was in a cage, mostly of my own making. I tried hard to conform to what my husband thought I should be. Whatever it was about me that he found unacceptable I tried hard to hide and cover up, lock inside myself under layers. He fell in love with me, then tried to tweak me to his specifications, like he had ordered a car and got to chose the options with which it came equipped. When we separated I looked in the mirror and no longer recognized the woman looking back at me. Those that were closest to me all my life said I had lost the sparkle in my eyes, the mischief and joy, the real me. They were privy to watching the layers get peeled back and the true me slowly re-emerging. I was like a caged bird set free.
The trouble with caging something wild, is that there tend to be those moments when they seem to turn on you. Keep this bird’s wings clipped and in a cage, she will periodically throw herself against the bars in frustration and anger. I am way too free-spirited to be held down for long without putting up a fight now and then. In the past I would calm down and submit to being in the cage, but I didn’t sing, I had no real joy, just a form of contentment that was temporary until the aggravation rose again.
Late yesterday, I posted an entry for my Dating Diaries section, the subject matter was a recent brief, but intense relationship. I was reminded of a promise I had made that resulted in the blog post being removed. I don’t recall making said promise, cannot imagine that I would have allowed myself to be put back into that damn cage. But that is what happens when a particular dance is so familiar you can perform it out of habit rather than thought. Either way, I had allowed myself to be stuck back in a cage. I am a person of my word, and therefore once it was brought to my attention, and I threw myself against the cage bars, I removed the post. But I am flaming f*cking pissed off right now, mostly at myself. I am mad at myself for having let the wings be clipped in the first place. 
I agreed to something, it seems, that went against my desire to live for ME, by MY standards and no one else’s. I agreed to something to please someone else, make myself more desirable to them, that went against my own nature. I let myself be put back in a cage. Never again.
Want to date me, get to know me, build and share a sanctuary in this life with me? Super! But don’t try to clip my wings or close me in a cage. I am NOT going back in there ever again. I am not a car, you don’t get to pick and chose the options from a menu to build the woman you want. You want me as I am or you can take a hike. Somewhere out there is a man strong enough to tame this wild bird and not crush my spirit, and I will find him. And when I do I will spread my wings in his world and fill his life with love, song and joy.
One of the best ways I have ever found to clear out the head and heart is to get on the back of a motorcycle, wrap around some strong shoulders, and let the wind blow through my hair, feel the sun on my skin. I always enjoyed riding with my ex, one of the few men I trusted on a bike. We didn’t have to say a word to each other, just enjoyed conquering the miles. I missed that time when we divorced, a lot.
Last year toward the end of summer I reconnected with an old friend. Probably should use the term friend loosely, as the first time we met he mostly drifted across my path but I kept him at arm’s length. I had felt a very strange pull toward him that I couldn’t explain but being married I knew that whatever it was had to stay untouched. After the divorce I got in touch with him after seeing someone pass me on a bike that reminded me a lot of the one I dubbed Mr. Wonderful.
We took several long rides, no destination we just got on the bike and rode til whatever was eating at either of us was out of our system. Sometimes we talked at length, other times rode in silence just enjoying being together and rolling. Feelings developed but in hind sight I have a greater understanding of the love between us.
Like me, he is one of those transitional people, an encourager/healer type. Meant to drift in, bandage the wounded, help them heal, then drift out of their lives, leaving a part of his heart. His scars also go clear back to childhood, and his outer shell is thicker than my own, but then he is several years older than me so he has fought a few more battles.
I think the fact that we are kindred spirits in this world is what drew us together. The encouragers and healers of the world don’t have anyone here to do for us what we do for others. But we can draw from each others strength, shore up each others foundations when they start to crack and dry each others tears. Lord knows I dried many of his during that time, though he never did mine. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. Nothing was getting deep enough, my heart was well shielded behind some thick armor to block out all pain and anything or anyone that even looked like they might bring more hurt. We crossed lines we shouldn’t have, but I have zero regrets. I have never connected with anyone the way I did with him. He is the first person that ever took the time to look into my eyes clear to my soul. He saw things in me no one else ever has, and he understood them. He didn’t try to change me, just studied who I was and learned all he could about the person inside that no one else ever took the time to know. He knows me darkest fears, my greatest joys, things even the man I was married too for 22 years never took time to know. He was the first person to notice that my eyes change colors, from their normal shade of grey to deep blue depending on my mood, or what I am feeling at the moment. Maybe because he was the first person to ever really look in my eyes, and he always made me look back into his when we talked, he wanted to see inside.
We can never have a lovers type relationship, never live together, or grow old together. Fate again, the bitch, doesn’t allow the timing that would put us together that way. But out of those months a friendship and understanding has forged. One that allows either of us to call the other when the world is falling apart around us and we just need someone to hold us, rub our head, dry our tears, and listen to us vent or sometimes just hold each other in total silence. He listened to me pour my heart out the other day, my anger, my frustrations, and my heart break from falling in love again only to have my heart shredded all over as yet again I was the transitional girl. This time I have cried, a lot. I hadn’t cried in over a year, but I got careless and let down my guard and someone got through the armor and I’m hurting. A pain I had not felt in so long I forgot to watch out for it. And he seemed to know exactly what I need to push through the pain toward healing.
He is coming to get me, and treat me with some road therapy. Today we have a destination, and we’ll log over 180 miles on the bike before we finish. We’ll ride the back roads to Madison, Indiana, and spend the day laughing, sharing, talking, and for the first time he’ll be the one holding me while I cry, and drying my tears. And when he drops me off tonight at home, the hurt will be there still, but I’ll feel better, wrapped in the healing love of a very special friendship that I’ll be eternally thankful to have.
I am EXHAUSTED. And sick. Some how I managed to contract the cold or whatever from hell and lose my voice. My head is stuffed up, I am lucky to get out enough voice to even be heard, and last night had the pukey stuff to go with it. This so is NOT what I wanted to be doing. I wore out completely what little voice I did have by the time I finished work yesterday. Just after crawling in bed and drifting off to sleep last night I was suddenly wide awake and very very sick. Without much detail it is suffice to say that I never made it out of my room, and owe my sister big time. I was completely unable to sleep all night between the sour stomach, mega night sweats and not being able to breathe. I stayed home from work today and slept as much as possible.
The cats seemed to pick up on the fact that I was not well, as they all came and checked on me several times. Noel was in bright and early this morning and groomed my hair line on my forehead. That is a big hairy deal as she is anti-social. Guess they were worried that the food wench (I am the one that typically feeds them both times in the day) might be on her death bed.
Ditzy napping with me
My cat slept at my feet quite often. Then later, during an afternoon snooze, little Ditzy kitten came and napped with me. She is such a doll. While the other two will check on you, Ditzy is a cuddler and she wanted to snuggle in for her sick watch over me. She purred for close to 20 minutes, even as she drifted to sleep, which was flat out adorable.
This getting older stuff and creeping through early menopause is for the freaking birds. I have about had it with the whole deal and I’m only 47 and this has a LONG way to go. 
My mood swings are controlled thanks to the meds I am taking and those are supposed to be assisting with the hot flashes. If this is what they are like with assistance, holy heffer what would they be like without??? Better living through chemistry I suppose.
The worst part is at night…like last night. As if it is not bad enough that I’m awake every 55 minutes thanks to the decongestant I am taking, I keep having night sweats! The day time hot flashes are bad enough but this night time stuff has to end. I feel like a malfunctioning Easy Bake Oven! Just stick a cake mix in my arm pit and in 5 minutes you can have freshly baked cupcakes.
Combining this with the cold medication made for some wicked weird dreams last night. Keebler Elves take me captive and force me to consume cremated remains in my fudge stripe cookies and protein shakes. Seriously, I have to watch what I read before I go to bed until this cold/allergy attack from hell moves on. My son had a post on his Facebook status that read: Would you add a cremated dead guy to your protein shake for $1,000,000?? (Dead serious). At first I thought GROSS, not a chance. Then I actually started to figure how much is really left of the body after it is cremated and….YUCK what is wrong with me? Evidently there are a whole lot of desperately broke folks on his friends list because it spawned a lengthy series of comments most in favor of it, like me, but wanting to know how MUCH of said dead and over baked corpse had to be consumed in the shake. Where the fudge stripe cookies came in from is beyond me. Perhaps it was the cookie dough ice cream I passed on when I got home, or the Snickers peanut butter candy bars I also bypassed in the kitchen despite craving chocolate and other assorted junk food last night. When I woke up in a fog I muttered out loud that I had about had it with the hot sweats and night flashes. Yeah, it’s the drugs.
Anyway I cannot seem to find a happy medium in body temperature. I’m either freezing to death or over heating. I’m sitting here writing this with the window open next to me and it is 30 degrees outside. Which is a heat wave compared to the single digits and negative wind chill temps a few days ago, but really??? We gals get to have ALL the fun in life.
~*~
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As this year comes to a close I’ve been reflecting on all the things that have changed in the landscape of my life over this past 12 months. In hind sight I can see that it was all a blessing but at the time much of it was happening it seemed like anything but for my good. I’ve also been reflecting on things that I want to change in the coming year, more like goals rather than resolutions. Resolutions seem to never be kept but realistic goals often do.
January – And So It Ends: My year began with an ending, the ending of my nearly 22 year marriage and 23 year relationship with my husband. I was still in shock when I made my only post for January, from the announcement he made in the middle of the month that he wanted out and that it was all my fault. Seems he could not deal with my anger issues that I really never accepted had existed up until that point. I don’t for a minute believe that excuse, but I did seek medical help and was diagnosed with a serotonin imbalance that is easily kept in check with medication. It was the beginning of this blog page, as my other one about being a Fire Wife was now obsolete.
February – The Drama Unit Is Formed, My First Major Step of Independence and The Dream House all chronicled some of the first stages in my spreading my wings to fly from the castle where I had lived with my Prince Charming who turned out to be a major fraud, in my opinion.
March – The shock was wearing off and reality setting in as I felt Homeless within my own house, and not yet part of the household of the Divas.
April – This month saw some realization and a turning point mentally and emotionally for me in my Ah Ha Moment and also seeing myself as aggressive rather than a passive victim, Don’t Call Me A Survivor regarding my circumstances. It was a month of growth inwardly and anticipation of our big move into the new house.
May – The Divas Uncorked life in our new home on the first of the month, and I became a Reformed Cat Hater as I was given a kitten as a heart band-aid. Nurturing and loving her little orphaned self did wonders for me.
June – We saw the end of a local icon, as Touch Down Jesus burned When Something Wicked This Way Came, our first major stormy night at the Diva Den, and I started a weekly post Wine & Cheese Wednesday where I ‘whine’ a bit each week about pet peeves and such. It will return in the new year, I have been taking a break during December from my regular posts.
July – Summer brought about a new attitude in me, and I finally reached the point where I got angry and wrote my reply to my Soon To Be Ex Though Not Soon Enough when he asked why I was so angry at him. I realized then his hold over me had broken. I also had my 100th Blog Post and shared a bit more detail about my wonderful, awesome, perfectly imperfect self.
August -The Ink Was Dry and The Chapter Closed on my marriage with the final hearing and granting of our divorce. Later that day Lord Voldemort, as my now former husband is known in the Diva Den, blocked me from being able to text or call him and the house phone had been disconnected. I also came to realize that the Someone who has made my life worth living for was no one other than myself, another major step toward healing! The very end of the month, the final weekend, Mr. Wonderful/TSASA (Twisted Steel And Sex Appeal) walked back into my life and so began my learning to eat my words about never loving again.
September - I made some decisions about my life in determining only to allow those Who Are Willing To Ride The Bus with me when my limo is broken down to get close to me from now on. I also had one last major confrontation with the ex, at which point I realized, I DIRECT MY LIFE NOW and I really don’t give a flying frog’s butt what he thinks.
October – As Autumn had set in it became Time For Some Pruning in my life, and a follow up Landscaping Of My Life, as while I had already removed the sinful, dark parts of my life I needed to finish off the final traces of that way of life as I began moving closer to my return to a right path in life.
November – I faced head on The Monster Within me and accepted the harsh reality that I cannot drink alcohol, especially on my medication which intensified the issues, and not cause serious damage to the relationships around me. I have not had a drink since Thanksgiving, don’t crave or miss it, and in fact over all feel much better.
December – And this month has ushered in many changes for me in going ‘home’ where All Is Right In My World, how I’d plan out my Last Meal if given the chance, enjoying my ongoing relationship with Mr. Wonderful, and now facing the unknown ahead as my mother’s cancer has returned. I’ve been embraced by my church family, have a mentor of sorts in my wonderful friend, Jane, who keeps me accountable and prays for me and my feet are back on the firm foundation of my Savior.
I have set a few goals that I hope are realistic for this coming year.
*Beginning 1/1/11 I will make every effort to avoid mentioning my ex-husband in my blogs, and if it is necessary will try to make it as positive and brief as possible. I must thank him for setting me free, as I’ve gotten to know me all over again, found someone very special that thinks I am pretty incredible even with all of my flaws, and I found out that there is a better life outside of the palace. This will thrill the diaper off Lord Voldemort as he actually calls my mommy to tell on me when I post something he doesn’t like! Comical isn’t it? He needs to grow up and grow a pair very badly and try talking to me (not cussing a blue streak but COMMUNICATING like an adult). I’m 47yo, I’ll post what I want, when I want, you lost the right to tell me what to do on 1/15/10 when you asked for a divorce. ::raises my glass:: here is to hoping karma continues to chomp your butt as it has since I moved out, and that you grow up some day, little boy. *CHEERS* (okay NOW I feel better and will pray it doesn’t keep chomping)
*I have a goal to focus on the health of my soul, feeding it by being at church for both services on Sundays, the mid-week prayer meeting, and be in the Word daily for feeding my soul and memorizing passages. I revamped my other blog page into a positive place for my Spiritual Journey, taking something dark and sinful and making it honoring to God.
*I fully intend to allow this relationship with Mr. Wonderful to bloom and grow at its own pace, doing it RIGHT this time, and keeping it Christ centered. We may not always do it right, but my goal is to strive for that.
*And to take better care of myself, start walking at least every other day, and drink 64 ounces of water a day.
This writing is from 11 years ago. I wrote it and posted it on my old Myspace blog at the time as we approached the holidays. On this, the 31st birthday of the subject, I thought I’d pull it out and share it.
My story begins 20 years ago in the summer. I found out at 16yo that I was pregnant and had to make some big decisions at a very young age. Ultimately the decision was to go live in a maternity home, give birth, and place the baby for adoption. Little did I know just how much those events would change my life forever.
I lived in the maternity home for 4 months, September through December. My family came to visit each week, even aunts, uncles and my grandparents.
Life there wasn’t horrible. No one there could look down their nose at anyone else, we were all pregnant and unmarried. But that common bond brought forth friendships and we all supported each other regardless of our backgrounds.
There were some heart wrenching moments like missing the big Christmas Eve family gathering on my mother’s side of the family. I had thought I was due in November but as it turned out the baby wasn’t due till the week before Christmas. Here it was Christmas Eve and the baby was late. It was hard sitting in the home while my family was there. I was lonely and depressed and went to bed in tears that night.
Early Christmas morning I sat alone in the dinning room wondering how I was ever going to fit my whole family in one of the tiny visiting rooms along with all the gifts. The rooms were very small and drab, nothing cheery there. A woman named Barb worked at the home, I think she was in her early 20′s. She joined me for a donut and asked about my plans for the day. I shared with her that my parents and siblings were coming up with all the gifts that should have been under the tree at home and how I was worried about us fitting in one of those tiny rooms.
That day Barb performed a “random act of kindness” that I can never repay. She told me to follow her and we went to the main lobby of the facility. (This facility housed unmarried, pregnant women and special needs children that are severely physically and mentally retarded) There was a beautiful Christmas tree there, all lit up in the dark. She unplugged it and dragged it to a very large lounge that could have been anyone’s warm and cozy living room. Then she got a cart full of donuts, juice, coffee and milk and put them in the room. When my family came up we had a tree and a room that was more like being at home. For a short time we could forget where we were, the awful situation I was faced with, and just enjoy the holiday. I don’t know what became of Barb, but I pray the Lord blesses her many times over for the wonderful blessing she gave to us that day.
My family stayed most all day and into the evening. My boyfriend was there too, as he had been through the whole long ordeal, doing what he could do in the limited means of a 17yo to be supportive and not run out on me. I crawled into bed tired but feeling so much better that night, praying the baby would come soon.
During the night I had a hard time sleeping, my back was in spasms and I just felt strange. Early in the morning hours I realized that I was in labor and left my room to find Sister Cynthia to check to be sure it was indeed the real thing. Upon confirmation I called mom. Later that morning I was transported to the hospital where mom coached me through labor, and at 3pm on December 26th, 1979, I gave birth to a beautiful 8 pound, 4 ounce baby girl.
For two days I sat in the hospital and held this little girl. Her daddy and I named her Julie and sat in wonder at the little baby so perfectly formed, and in grief that we had such few hours to know her. We knew down deep that giving her up was the best thing we could do for her, but I tried over and over to think of a way that I could keep her and give her a happy life. In the end my heart knew that what was best for Julie was to be given to a family that could love her and provide for her every need.
Two days after she was born I stood in the hall waiting for one of the nuns from the home to come and get me. I stood at the nursery window looking down at Julie crying my heart out as I explained through the glass that I loved her dearly, too much to try to raise her alone. I explained I was only a child myself and could never be the kind of mom she needed. I told her how I wanted her to have a mom and dad, and siblings, a normal family with a chance to be something special in life. I think it was probably the hardest moment of my life when I tore my eyes off of her and walked away. Within days I signed the papers that would put her in the arms of a waiting family.
For 19.5 years I agonized through the holidays. See, Christmas is my very favorite time of year. I love the decorations, smells, snow and especially the knowledge that the Creator of all things came to earth as a baby to redeem those that are His from sin and give them eternal life in Christ. I love the songs and stories and hate when it’s time to put it all away for another year. But always in the background was the knowledge that somewhere out there was a girl growing up that I held in my heart but not in my arms. I wondered if she was okay, was she loved and cared for, did she have all she needed.
I’ve prayed continuously for her over the years, and for her adoptive family and their needs that I didn’t know about. Over time the pain decreased. Time really does heal, but it cannot erase the scar left behind by the deep wounds to the heart.
Always in my heart was a special place that was reserved just for her. On her birthday it was especially hard and I dreaded the day. I didn’t want to have her back, she wasn’t and never will be mine, but not knowing was so very hard. I never regretted the decision or lost sleep over it, but I never thought that the pain would go away. Even 19 years later, on 12/26 I wished her a happy birthday and wondered what she was like and if my prayers and desires for her were answered.
This story does have a happy ending!!! Over the summer with the foot work of my husband, Pete, we located her. She and her family moved away many years ago. Her family named her Emily, a name I dearly love. She’s beautiful, talented and has had everything in life that I could have wanted for her. I met her and had the chance to share pictures from our lives and talk for a full afternoon. I’ll treasure that day for the rest of my life. See, that day the pain was taken away, the wound is closed and the scar…well, you’d be hard pressed to find it now.
I got to hear the story of a man and woman that wanted children very much but could not have their own. They had adopted a little boy 8 years before, and had already been waiting for some time for a daughter. That little boy was the one to name his little sister that he too had waited so long for. I was one of 6 birth mothers and the last to deliver. They waited ever Thursday for years to find out if their prayers would be answered, their dreams would come true. Finally they were told that a baby would be theirs soon. I was originally thought to be due in November, but there was no baby there for them for Christmas. They waited and waited. The other 5 girls had all delivered boys, so they held out great hope that this would be a girl. I now know that had I changed my mind, and kept my baby, I would have hurt so many others with hopes so high.
While we have gone back to our lives at her request, I am not sorry at all. Her picture hangs above my desk at the office and at home on the refrigerator along with photos of people that are special. It serves to remind me to pray for her each day and her family. What was kept a secret for so many years was finally shoved to the open about 10 years ago when I wrote a letter to the editor in the on going battle against abortion. Now it is not only in the open…but my story has a terrific ending and proof that there is always someone that wants the unborn children. Often it is someone who has waited a very long time for them.
This year on 12/26/99, Emily turns 20 years old. For the first time the holidays are upon me and I’m feeling freedom from the pain that is now gone. Free to be happy for her and family that they have each other. And while we are strangers to each other, there will always be a special place in my heart for her.
Many a day I’ve spent countless, intimate moments with my deepest love of the morning. I do NOT like getting out of my very warm, comfortable bed, especially after being awakened rudely by the blaring alarm clock. By allowing a little wiggle room in my morning routine, I am rescued every 9 minutes by my pre-dawn knight in shining armor, the snooze button. I think, perhaps, the single greatest invention since the alarm clock would be the snooze alarm. 9 extra minutes of glorious sleep when I’m just not quite ready to leave dream land behind and start the day. And then another 9, and yet another.
Beginning today the boss needs me in the office at 7:30am. In order to achieve this, I have to give up my priceless extra moments and say goodbye to my morning love….my snooze alarm. I’m crushed!! No more snuggling back in for just a bit, I have to get up and get moving immediately. SIGH….I’m going to miss it SO much!!
A moment of silence for my grief is in order, please ………………………………………………………………………
Farewell my love of the morning, perhaps one day we will meet again.
After being dragged kicking and screaming to Facebook, and now that I’ve adapted to it so well, I’ve ditched my MySpace page. It wasn’t a painful farewell, I think I logged in maybe three times a month if that. I just lost interest in it really, it lacked the fun and functionality of Facebook. I can log in and scroll through the feed and get a condensed newsletter, rapidly, of what my friends and family are up too. It is without a doubt my very favorite form of social media. It is particularly amusing when someone posts something and before long there is a record number of comments, and the banter gets crazy and out of hand.
Not that there is anything exciting there, but here is a screen shot of my current (as of this moment that I’m writing this) profile and wall.
Some days with busy-ness of life, it is through Facebook that I stay in touch with my kids and siblings. And I gain a peek at their friends and social lives too by reading their walls.
Between Facebook, Twitter and Foursquare, I think I’m connected enough without the MySpace that seems to be losing popularity rapidly. If you know me, feel free to send a friend request, I will be happy to add you to my friends! If I don’t know you, don’t get offended if I ignore the request, I’m a bit guarded.
I’m horribly flawed.
I’ve sinned in ways and areas that would rock even the strongest men of God’s foundations.
I went through a living emotional and mental hell and managed to grab hold of the rock on the side of the swamp and pull myself out of the sinful sludge pit because there were people praying that I had not seen or spoken to, or for that matter thought about, for years. Praying for me to repent, praying for me to come back home.
I’ve said it before in blogs, but now I say it again….I make NO apologies for who I have been in my past. Key word there is PAST, it all lies behind me.
I didn’t jump out of that pit, I CRAWLED OUT! Changes came slowly, not in the blink of an eye. Old habits die hard and some still are with me.
But I am me, real, honest, screwed up, and at times very easily hurt, ME.
I refer all who cannot stomach that to a previous blog, Who Is Willing To Ride The Bus.
If you aren’t willing to ride the bus, then get OFF the bus because you are taking up a seat that someone willing to ride might want. And I learned yesterday that I have a lot of people that are willing to get on the bus and ride it with me because they love me, in fact they all boarded the bus and sat down with me yesterday, and cried with me, and held my hand, and prayed with me.
In closing I refer to my favorite quote:
The trees went up last night..as in they are out of the boxes, up and lit. After digging through a variety of containers it became obvious we were lacking some things. Seems last year when they packed up the Christmas stuff, the other Divas tossed a lot of things. So we had it on hold for tonight to actually decorate the tree.
My daughter got Lord Voldemort to help her with the tree there. All she had to do was start pulling stuff out and trying to move that casket size box up the stairs herself (the damn thing weighs about as much as a body loaded end of life container) and her daddy was helping her. Her, the boyfriend and her dad decorated over there. That cracks me up, that girl has that man wrapped so tightly around her finger. He would say otherwise but grumpy old Walter said over and over he would NOT have another dog in that house ever. Enter Okeloni, the 2 year old Akita my daughter recently adopted from a shelter. Yes, she has her daddy wrapped alright. I was glad Scrooge decided to help her out and they were able to begin a new tradition even if it is without me. I was always the one to get it out, put it up with my kids, Ebeneezer rarely did much of that. Talk about a little black rain cloud hanging over the holidays.
I admit to being a bit apprehensive about this Christmas. All of the ornaments that hold sentimental value to me are over hanging on the tree at the ex-husband’s house. I have nothing of mine here. This is my favorite holiday and time of the year, and I’ve always loved decorating the tree. So when my daughter called to tell me she was bringing my nativity that she and her brother had bought me years go I was thrilled. I also requested a particular ornament that holds very strong sentimental value to me and she brought it too. I love that kid.
Today the Divas went shopping to find ornaments for our tree. I picked out one just for me, my first initial in silver, with gem stones. And then I found another, a silver fire place that says “Our First Christmas In Our New Home”. I bought that one too. Now I feel much better, like I have something in the mix here.
And now, we are going to begin to decorate the trees, complete with shatter proof ornaments as suggested by my daughter. The cats already have taken to climbing the damn trees. One received a squirt bottle enema when I shot her off a branch. She in turn stalked the tree thinking the tree attacked her. That would be Ditzy!
Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There’s a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
Someday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly.
Birds fly over the rainbow.
Why then, oh why can’t I?
If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can’t I?
~ Judy Garland/The Wizard of Oz
I LOVE that song from ‘The Wizard of Oz’. Poor Dorothy, hunting through life for her heart’s desire, only to learn “if I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn’t there, I never really lost it to begin with!”
I think so often we go through life in search of happiness and miss it because it was right there, within ourselves. We search for the perfect mate, try to find the perfect job, the perfect house in the perfect neighborhood. We search for the perfect outfit, the perfect hairstyle, the perfect car. We’re always on the hunt for that ‘perfect’ whatever, thinking that is the key to us being happy. We find the perfect whatever it is, only to find that is not the key to happiness and most decidedly is NOT perfect.
Happiness is a decision we make, in my opinion. How we chose to react to circumstances and others is our own to decide. Be it anger, hurt or even love, we chose our reactions. Things will make us mad, people will hurt our feelings, and we will love others without trying too. But we control our reactions to each situation. While I did have a serotonin imbalance to feed my anger, it was MY choice to pick up a glass and throw it at the wall (something I have not done in many many years). It was my choice to spew hateful words at someone. The imbalance got the best of me, making it impossible for me to make the best choice, but still it was my choice. I made very bad choices and those choices often had bad consequences. If you don’t have this issue, you wouldn’t understand. I didn’t even understand how I was until I missed my medication 2 days and got to experience life with the chemicals out of balance again, and then I had something to really compare it all too. Certainly outside influences steer us, and fear, love, hurt, anger….those cannot be turned on and off like water, but we can take a step back and decide how we are going to react. We can chose to be happy and not angry, bitter or hateful.
When I got married the second time I thought I had found Prince Charming. Then I set about to make my marriage work by trying to be perfect. Failing to meet the standards set by someone else only frustrated me and made me bitter. I cannot be perfect, and cannot squeeze myself into a mold that someone else feels is their perfect someone. I kept trying to be what I would never be, the ideal for my ex-husband. When I got frustrated with my failure to measure up, it only made me feel worse about myself and lash out at him. His standard for what made him happy was a level I would never be able to achieve. The pressure I placed on myself was unrealistic. I have since discovered the key to my own happiness, ME. I no longer need anyone elses approval of me to be happy. My worth hangs on no ones hanger but my own. As it turned out, I am happy with me as I am. Slightly plump, tattooed, pierced nose, pink hair (on the weekends now), sometimes lazy, often the procrastinator, perfectly imperfect me! Once I came to the realization that I am the only one who can chose happiness for me, I found myself over the rainbow.
Troubles…yes they can melt like lemon drops, or I can chose to dwell on them. I can fly like the blue birds or opt to be grounded. I can hold a grudge forever, or decide to offer an olive branch. I can try like hell to be someone I am not to make another happy, or I can be me and find someone that can love me as I am with all of my quirky, blond imperfections. And I can in turn love them with all of their cracks in their perfection. .
Last time I referred to it as walking through the fruit loop garden, but tonight I’m kinda tired and feeling a tad lazy, so we’re just going to sit on the side of the bowl and dangle our feet in. This is one of those posts full of random thoughts that have zero connection for the most part other than it came from my brain, a confusing and scary place for many when I open up and start sharing. Get your spoon.
This was an interesting week. Tuesday the big boss decided work had dropped off enough to shut down our Cincinnati and Dayton offices for winter. I wasn’t really surprised, I schedule the work and maintain the production board so it was rather evident to me that this was coming. Still wasn’t a happy moment when I got that call to start tying up the loose ends. I resisted the urge to panic and instead got online and started mass sending my resume through local job sites and on various hospital career postings. I also utilized Facebook and Twitter, and sent a ton of emails to contacts, feeding my information and resume. Even dug out a business card from a potential a year ago. Hoping to be working again next week, I CANNOT handle the boredom of being out of a job again, I’ll be crawling on the ceilings in under a month. Hoping to find something far more long term…as in years.
I am thinking this whole menopause thing is settling in and that makes me most unhappy. I am rolling through the hot flashes and finding them to be quite irritating. We don’t need the furnace, I can slowly stroll through the entire house and keep it warm. The night sweats are a real treat too. Power surges? Heck I could light the whole township for an hour at a time with those lovely attacks. Sometimes being female truly sucks.
Ya me! I found eye glass chains for my readers/cheaters! I stopped at a local, family owned Pharmacy and got my flu shot ($20, which is $5-10 cheaper than the big grocery store pharmacies have them) and while there found the chains! Go ahead, make old lady jokes, I don’t care because now I know where my glasses are all the time when I need them.
The neighbor across the street has a shutter that periodically falls off the house. He gets up there and messes with it and puts it back, then along comes a good wind or thunderstorm, though sometimes for no apparent reason at all, and it falls off the house. Currently it is back up but I’m seriously considering taking $1 wagers here in the Princess Palace on when it will fall down again, as many chances as you’d like, and she who comes closest without going past wins. We sick chicks find the whole thing very entertaining.
I GET TO SLEEP IN TOMORROW! I am easily amused and thrilled by the little things in life. Sleeping in being one of my guilty pleasures makes me HAPPY!!
So, how DO you solve a problem like Maria?
YIKES! CSI tonight is looking gross! Well okay it IS gross!!!! But I love watching this stuff.
That nasty, 4 letter word is in the forecast. I do not care if it is only flurries, it means cold and I really don’t like cold!!! I’m missing summer so badly, I love warm weather. Turning on the electric blanket !!
ATTENTION SON AND DAUGHTER – still waiting on your Christmas wish lists. Really, I want to be done before Black Friday so step it up please!
I just saw a commercial for baby carrots, using sex to sell them. Really? Unreal…and frankly a very creative commercial!
Okay, CSI is wrapping up this neat little murder case, in under an hour as usual. Gotta go see how this ends, it has been very good!
Okay, spoons and feet out of the bowl everyone!
I am not a mommy blogger. I was never a stay at home mom. I have nothing against them and actually follow quite a few, enjoying the posts about their kids etc. But my ‘babies’ are now 20 and 26 years old. On my horizon is the grandma chapter but it isn’t here yet. And when it does arrive, I am not the type to post that my grandbaby did a mean old #2, if I felt the need to share that it would read something like “junior blew an atomic bomb of nasty shit”. We home schooled our kids but not for a bunch of lofty religious reasons (easy now I’m a bible believing Christian), we did it cause we were fed the hell up with the local school system and private schools were not in the budget. By the time the oldest reached the end of 5th grade we decided we couldn’t possibly mess this kid up any worse than the schools were doing so we yanked him out and finished educating him at home, his sister never stepped foot in a traditional classroom until college.
I am not a recipe blogger either. I have a few dishes I can make fairly well, but I am NOT a cook by any stretch of the definition. While I make the few things I do very well, and not from a box, Hamburger Helper and Stew Helper would be my best buddies and the pizza man would be on speed dial if I was in charge of the regular cooking in the Diva Den. The ex used to joke on his Facebook and Twitter telling his coworkers at the fire house to be on stand-by when I was cooking. It was funny but not all that unrealistic an idea! When I navigate the kitchen it is all about coffee or beer. I gladly do dishes and clean up the kitchen but no one will ever mistake me for Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart.
I don’t have a review blog – seriously who would pay me or give me their products to review? I’m probably a little TOO blunt and honest. “The sauce tastes like motor oil and the pasta had the consistency of wallpaper paste” isn’t exactly what they are looking for in negative reviews I’m thinking. As far as positive reviews, “was so yummy it would have made my panties wet if I wore them” probably isn’t going to be any more well received.
I am not into politics and don’t have a cause, don’t compost or hug trees. The closest I am to going green is not wasting water on the front lawn, and that is because I’m too cheap to pay the bill to have green grass in a drought. I am a huge supporter of rescue critters when it comes to pets and supporting the no kill shelters but that isn’t really my scope of knowledge and really not something I want to write about often.
My blog is just a realistic view of MY life. I write about me and my world. I love writing, and in a way it is therapeutic for me. Way back when I started writing blog posts on Myspace, and then later on my first blog page, it was mostly a way to share what was going on with family and friends. If no one stopped by and read my page I’d still be posting, but as fate would have it I have an audience. That is both humbling and baffling as hell to me. I refer in my subheading to being a princess after the fairy tale ends, but honestly I am NO fairy tale princess. More of a border line ready for the funny farm Diva lacking any domestic qualities unless they can be performed on my back in bed (or on top or…okay TMI!!)
My world is not full of rainbows, unicorns, knights in shining armor and while I am usually really happy, I don’t fart fairy dust. I don’t paint an unrealistic picture, I’m honest. But just because life has dealt me a few bad hands doesn’t mean I have to wallow in self pity. No need to draw the shades, dress in black, light candles and go into mourning. Life is precious, and entirely too short. Time is the single most valuable commodity we have, every minute spent is without interest and cannot be refunded.
Walter from the Jeff Dunham show http://www.jeffdunham.com. If you have NOT seen it, watch a clip, tell me it isn't Pete!
I could sit around and feel all down because when Lord Voldemort came by last night to get a piece of mail he was barely civil and had this look on his face like he had just bit down on bat shit when he looked at me. I am far from being promoted to the top of his favorite people list. Instead I look at it this way, he wanted out, if it isn’t working out the way he planned and he isn’t deliriously happy, it’s NOT my problem. I take a more positive perspective, I’m happy, my home is fantastic, I’ve got my Divas and BFFs….bummer, sucks to be you Petey boy (by the way, that look on your face, the bat shit one? yeah that is why folks dubbed you Walter, honey, try a smile once in a while).
My blog reviews, promotes, discusses and is all about me and or whatever is on my mind at any given time. It is anything goes most days, and often I participate in blog memes and hops so sometimes it might edge on fluff (just edge though), others it will be raunchy. Most of the time it is somewhere in between. I won’t apologize if something is offensive, but support you in your right not to read it. If you find it offensive, you’d find me equally so, as I tend to talk like I write. I try to put a disclaimer on it when I say “fuck” a lot, but sometimes I forget. Just know that I am pretty much rated PG-13 and I already sense a shift or evolution in my focus. And again, I don’t fart fairy dust. (I love saying that!)
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“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”
~ Marilyn Monroe
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I LOVE that particular quote, it is very much how I feel. I am selfish, my life is all about me and the world I move in revolves around me. I am definitely impatient, when I want something I want it NOW. And insecure? Sure, I think everyone is insecure. While I am very comfortable in my own skin and with who I am, there are days I lack confidence in my own abilities. Mistakes – oh boy do I make some doozies, left to my own devices I can chalk up some gold medal winners single handedly. Out of control is another given, I have a temper and I have been known to throw a class ‘A’ temper tantrum though I have ceased the really bad ones (thanks Lexapro). I still get kinda out of control when having fun and rarely stop to think or care what anyone else thinks of me in a given situation, I act for me and me alone. SO those things make me a bit hard to handle for some (like Lord Voldemort/ex-husband).
At my best I am a very loving person. I am very loyal to those that I love and often forgiving of their short comings to a fault. I never trash my man to anyone and therefore often had trouble relating to other wives during ‘hen club’ sessions. I never spoke negatively about my hubby, though believe me he has his share of faults, some glaring. I am very protective of those I love. I am simple and easy to please, very affectionate and I enjoy intimacy (yes I LOVE sex – there I said it). I’ve blogged in the past about why I think I’m over all a pretty cool chick to know.
BUT if you want all the good that I am, and believe me there is a lot of good in this perfectly imperfect woman, then you have to be willing to accept the bad along with it. I no longer make any apologies for who and what I am, what you see is what you get and if you don’t like it fine, move along because you are holding up the line for those that want the total package.
I recently posted a blog about searching for friends with benefits, Qualifications For A Frog Prince With Benefits and stated that applications were being accepted. Well that application process has now been closed, I am no longer accepting applications for this position. The response was flattering, to say the very least, lots of interesting pigs men wanted to be considered (don’t take offense, remember, the ex is the one that told me all men are pigs, before he showed me he is their king). I’ve seen quite a number of these swine gents and given a few a serious test drive. I really cannot say I found fault in any of those as far as the benefits side of things is concerned. Ya’ll are rocking oinkers! However, for now the position has been nicely filled.
Amongst the number of hogs and wild boars many fine fellas that I’ve met, one from the past emerged. He was an online friend, and a few times in person hug and hello. He was unaware of any application process currently taking place, I more or less sought him out. I was on my way to the office one Saturday and spotted a guy on a motorcycle that reminded me of this one. I had kept his number over the years, though I’ll be damned if I know why, just a ‘feeling’ I should not erase that one when I did my periodic clean up of my phone contacts. I first did what every cyber crack addict does, and got online and tried to find him on Facebook, Myspace, Twitter and through old email addresses. When that didn’t work I decided to just call him. My hesitation in this was I didn’t know if he was currently involved with anyone and I did not wish to create any drama in his life. However it was my last remaining option so I called and left a message on his voice mail. Within minutes he phoned me back, launching us into an interview process ‘get to know you’ cycle with Mr. Hot 50+ (now known as Mr. Twisted Steel And Sex Appeal – which he TOTALLY is!).
I’ve been privileged to be the fender fluff on his bike a few times of late, and recently the passenger in his really sweet and sexy Corvette. We’ve exchanged emails, many phone calls, and spent time together both for and without the benefits. He is all twisted steel and sex appeal, nice hard muscles, wrestles, musician, and scores tops on the benefits charts. He expressed that he had no interest in the ‘lifestyle’ I participate in, as he is not one that likes to “share”, but he would never ask me to stop doing something I enjoy, and he didn’t feel he has the right too, he simply did not care to know anything about what I did apart from him. I admit, when I thought about somethings he said, I am not all that keen on sharing him at this point either. For now I want to get to know him, spend time with him, and enjoy this friendship cupcake that is so generously iced. No, not in a commitment sort of arrangement, this friendship is far from that if it ever ends up there. We’ve both been burned badly by the fires of emotions and both overly cautious about entering that inferno again. I’d say the best way to put it is we’re both only interested in one dessert selection off of the cart for the moment. So for now, just really not interested in gluttony when it comes to the FWB (one great one is more than enough), I’m going to enjoy this special friendship and the fringes that go with it. I’ll still enjoy my guy friends just not the physical side of those friendships.
So, for now, the “toad” I kissed recently turned out to be a gentleman in disguise and I think I will just hang out here in this pond for a while. Life is short and I’m not passing up a good thing. If we get bored with each other, I’ll hop off this lily pad and open up the application process again.
