Today is a rambling sample of my half asleep brain before adequate coffee consumption…
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MY life is one big slumber party. I just realized that laying in bed this morning debating getting up. I really have a great, FUN life!
For years, while married, I was just a tiny bit envious at times of my baby sister. I had a great life, good marriage, fantastic husband, great kids, nice house with a pool and hot tub, nice cars etc. We weren’t rich but we certainly were comfortably blessed. I had a great job, good medical insurance, and my husband could fix just about anything that broke or needed tweaking. There was a very sweet contentment in my life. Don’t get me wrong, it was not perfect by any stretch but I honestly had little I could complain about. At the top of the hill, when all was ‘good’ or so I thought, my sister had one thing I did not have….mom. She and her two girls were living with my mom.
I think I can safely speak for all of my siblings when I say we are close to my mom. For myself, I talked to her just about every day if not on the phone, via text. I was raised by a mom that had a father who taught the value of family. My gramps was the best in my opinion. He taught all of us growing up that no matter what we lost in life, if we had our family we had everything. I would learn that lesson many times over starting in my teens. Family doesn’t have to agree with you, in fact they’ll often be the first to tell you what an idiot you are, but they still stand behind you and love you through support. Or they should. If they don’t, I honestly think you might want to trade them in for a new one. Too bad you cannot do that!
Long ago it used to be quite the norm as the kids came along, grandma and grandpa were close by, if not living with one of their children, taking care of the little ones. Families farmed, or held jobs ‘in town’. There were no daycare centers and moms worked at home. And it was work! Everything was done by hand in the old days. Grandma and grandpa helped out and families were much closer geographically as a means of survival. Kids KNEW they grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Sure, many will make remarks now about “Oh, he is 53 and lives with his mother…” and I think, yeah? So??? Maybe it is necessary for both to have a comfortable life, or maybe he is a mama’s boy and a loser. Whatever the story he is fortunate enough to still share life with his mom. And that is how I viewed my sister. She had a fantastic job, made great money, and she got to share life with my mom. I know, it was not all coming up roses, the girls were teens and 4 females under one roof spells DRAMA anyway you slice it.
2 years ago I was spending every available moment over at my mom’s house with her, my sister and my nieces. I was about a month into accepting that my husband wanted out off the marriage and the plan was for me to move out. In hind sight there are a few things I would change about my divorce agreement…like since he was getting ALL the toys, the house, pool, hot tub etc, that he took ALL of the debt. I had no way to see down the road that I’d end up laid off from another job and the other company would go under, and that finding work in this economy is damn near impossible. My credit is shot to hell because I just cannot quite make ends meet at the moment, having lost 3 of the little ones I was babysitting because I don’t (and won’t) take vouchers. It sucks. But I’m hijacking my blog, back on topic. The Divas had determined I was moving in with them, and the hunt had transpired for a house suited to all 5 of us. Who knew the second house we looked at was our dream house. It was one of those that, had I gotten bored and went a looked at houses while happily married, I would have wanted a reason to own it, it is such a cool house. So, 2 years ago today we were all sitting around mom’s table on a Sunday afternoon just dreaming that all the pieces were going to fall into place and we’d get the house. And we did!
Fast forward and welcome to our ongoing slumber party.
No one that heard what our plan was thought this had a chance of working out, but inside me somewhere I knew it would. Maybe it was the one night 2 years ago when I left my mom’s to go home (I had to text them when I was in safely), and when I was crawling into my bed, the big one I had shared with hubby that I now slept in alone, I was sad and lonely until I received a text from my youngest niece. It said, “Don’t lose your green card, we want you back!”. It made me laugh and cry all at the same time. I felt wanted at a time when I was feeling humiliated, rejected and worthless.
The past 2 years in this house (our 2 year anniversary of the official establishment of the Diva Den/Estrogen Central is 5/1/12) has been FUN! Really, most days we laugh a LOT. Laughter is healing, trust me on this. I noticed there is an over all JOY in this house. My daughter loves coming over to visit because she laughs til her mascara is running down her cheeks. Drama happens, but very, very rarely. I’ve lost my temper, sure, 3 times. Once with my sister, twice with my niece. That tells me something when I know the number of times. It may sound like a lot until you break it down, that in 630 days, give or take a few, I’ve lost my cool 3 times. The two nieces are good for driving each other bonkers and some drama, but not often and usually not much at all. Mostly, this house, this HOME, is filled with JOY. We all love the house itself, it just is awesome. And we all enjoy each other.
We stay up late some nights, like little girls at a sleep over, watching TV, talking and laughing. We enjoy mornings on the weekends of extended coffee drinking with bed-head and jammies. We support each other, hug each other, eat meals together, break into song and dance together, tease each other, and laugh together, a LOT. We help each other, cry together over chick flick moments on TV, encourage or discourage each other as needed, and help each other out when money is tight. A need was there that turned out to be the greatest of blessings. When I was shattered emotionally and mentally at the end of the marriage, I was wrapped in the protective love of the women in my family. I was able to heal with on site support. We’re the true “girls next door” and we’re one big ole laughing, good time!
And the best part is that I get to live with my mom. I’m not embarrassed to say it at all, I am about to turn 49 in 88 or so days, and I live with my mom. And my sister and one of my nieces (one has since moved out on her own to be closer to school and work). I get to tap into her wisdom, live, laugh and love with her, and enjoy moments that I’d have never had if my life and not taken the turn it did 2 years ago. I’m not content, I AM HAPPY!
Here is a little treat, what happened in the middle of playing Farkle on Christmas night at the Diva Den. Featuring my sister, nieces, and my daughter. It is pretty typical of the fun we have on a daily basis (mostly without the beer). A song comes on and suddenly everyone has a spontaneous sing along. Though we don’t often need the song on the radio, we just kinda break into song because our life is like a very bizarre musical some days:
Every week on Wednesday I devote a blog to whining. Despite being a really happy, positive person, I do have things that annoy me at times.
I never let anything grate on my nerves for long but thought it would be fun to vent them periodically in my blogs.
I also feel that good things, the cheese in life, should be acknowledged as well.
I’m even going to throw in a bit of dessert, a piece of virtual chocolate, something that made me laugh or smile just a bit more than normal.
If you’d like to read the past editions of Wine & Cheese just click HERE for all of the past postings.
Sit back and join me now for the 47th serving of some wine and cheese!
They’re BAACCCKKKK! Those random hot flashes of edging into the menopausal years of life. I am far less than thrilled. I get them in spurts, and currently I seem to be within a phase of said self contained tropical climate outbursts, as out of no where I am suddenly so hot that I could defrost a walk-in freezer.
Dust. I totally dislike dust. I wish I could blame the cats but even in the marital residence there was an excessive amount of dust, even if we went at it daily. I wish I had a solution but I don’t. One furnace was new with great filters etc, one is probably older than dirt. This just sucks.
Open windows draw cats. See, windows are kitty cat television. And an open window is way, high end viewing as the sound is enhanced and there is fresh air. Hot flashes = open windows next to me even when it is very cold outside. Open windows = cats sitting on the edge of my desk which = cat hair on the desk, as the little floozies feel the need to bathe themselves in the fresh air of the open window, leaving behind fur. Dust, cat hair, hot flashes…I cannot win!
I have a new coffee cup. It is white outside, PINK inside (instant love) and says JOY in big, pink letters outside. In the background it says Joy in light pink letters…oh heck I’ll just show you a picture. I love this cup. It was time to retire the mug with the cat on it from the Count. I won’t get rid of it, just not going to use it for now.
I follow the My One Word idea rather than New Year’s resolutions. Last year my word was SEEK..as I was seeking my way back to God. I was searching and praying for a word for 2012 and when I received the coffee cup as a gift, I knew my word for 2012 is JOY. Finding JOY in the Lord first, and then in all things in life, as I believe there is a silver lining of JOY in all things.
Hee hee…knowing where the last of the Christmas tree cookies are hidden, all 4 of them, and making them into my breakfast because I’m the only Diva awake in the house. Waahaahaa!
Looking ahead to the new year, planning and writing down my goals, plotting a course toward them. All the purging I am doing is helping me to focus on what I am keeping in my life and what I can do with it. And not taking ‘no’ or ‘can’t’ as an option. I can. I will.
Embracing being a single woman, REALLY embracing it and all that it means. It’s truly all about me this coming year and I’m going to make the most of it and run with it. Male friends are fine, and going out now and then is fine, but this year I want to focus on ME. Just me, no ‘us’ but just ME.
Okay now this is funny, I don’t care who you are! It is NOT directed at my ex-husband or an ex-boyfriend, it is just amusing so I’m sharing it:
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 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.