We are moving this weekend, and although I've gotten quite a bit packed up and ready to go, there is still soooo much more that needs to be done. And the kids are....no help at all, of course. I tell them to sort their toys, and I get hours upon hours of whining. Then, when they actually do it, they must be overly dramatic and either throw away everything, including their favorite toys, or be desperately attached to each and every toy and find it absolutely impossible to part with it. Why can't they just be simple and decide to toss this and keep that? But then again, I am the mother who is going through every piece of artwork, every school paper and report card they have ever brought home and finding reasons to save them. So, I guess I should stop throwing stones before I break the glass house I'm living in.
I've gotten most of my Christmas shopping done for the kids. I still don't know what I'm going to do for my parents. And I'm also trying to figure out what I'm going to get D. I want to get him something special, something nice, but...it's hard. I mean, I know a LOT about him, but still...what do you get for a guy you've only recently started dating, and will have only been together with for a little over a month when Christmas arrives?
I still have to get a couple more small items for the boys, and some clothes. C is outgrowing his clothes faster than I can keep up. J isn't doing too shabby in the growing department himself, but at least with him, I can just give him his brother's old clothes. Well, when C hasn't completely shredded them or made them filthy beyond repair, which often happens, it seems.
And for the last week or so, C & J keep waking up fighting, and it continues all day. I asked C the other morning if he woke up on the wrong side of the bed and his response was to tell me he got off the end of it. Clearly we didn't get it.
The worst part so far is that there was no school today, and it was cold and rainy all day. Being cooped up with two rambunctious, arguing boys is NOT fun, in case you were wondering. I did manage to get them outside for a few brief minutes this afternoon, maybe a half hour, but it was not enough. Although they do seem to be getting along slightly better, but that, I think, is soon to change, if the rumblings from the sofa are any indication.
I'm looking forward to getting this move over with so that we can get on with things. Feeling stuck in limbo is driving me crazy. And of course, the fact that once this move is over, it's only a little more than a week, maybe two, before I get to see D again helps too.
Now, if the kids could just stop fighting...and if my house would pack itself...and if I could find a decent job...my life would be perfect. Oh, who am I kidding? It's pretty great as is.
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Life (and my computer) has moved on...
Well, since my last post many things have happened. The most recent of which being that I had to replace my computer. I was having tons and tons of trouble, not the least of which being that I had no sound at all (which, after getting the new computer, I discovered was actually the monitor and NOT the computer). So, I got a new computer, which is actually pretty cool anyway. It has Vista, which I am so far finding to be much easier than XP. We'll see, though.
On another note, I've also managed to have start, have, and end a fairly serious relationship. I actually got back together with an old boyfriend, only to discover that he is....well, the nicest way to put this is to say he is unstable. He holds some...ideas that are not only hard to swallow, but difficult not to find terrifying. On top of which, he also has a drinking problem, one which he not only will not acknowledge, but not get help for either. More problems than I can deal with.
So, our shortlived relationship lasted 5 months. When he told me aliens were standing at his front door looking in at him, the words "I think we need to see other people" tumbled out of my mouth before I even realized I wanted to say them. That was about a month ago, I guess.
I've moved on. I have actually posted a profile on a couple of dating sites, and so far have met one or two nice guys. Well, "met" might not quite be the right word. We talk online, and have spoken on the phone a time or two. I've also managed to find a crazy or two. That seems to be my life. I find a nice guy, and two crazy men tag along behind him. I have been talking to one though that although we have not talked much, I think he's very nice. He is very, very cute, and he seems incredibly sweet. We'll see where it goes, and if nothing else, I think he'll make a great friend.
The kids are back in school. C has a sub right now, for the next 5 weeks or so, which his regular teacher is out on maternity leave. This has been a struggle. C and the sub do not get along well at all. And I myself have had a run in with her, although I will admit that part of mine may have been impacted by the fact that at first sight, she strongly reminded me of my dead grandmother, whom I did not get along with at all. J is in Kindergarten this year, and he is doing splendidly so far. He's had few behavior issues, and his academics are outstanding. I'm hoping it will stay this way.
They both have field trips coming up in the next couple of weeks, one to the local petting farm, the other to a local museum. They should both have loads of fun. We, as a family, are going to go to the farm next weekend for their Fall Fun Nights, where they have a hay maze, a reptile exhibit, a nighttime hay ride, and many other things. Halloween night, or somewhere right around then, we are going to a haunted house. Trick or treating is an iffy proposition this year, as one of the other recent developments was breaking my ankle.
Back in July, I broke my ankle when I stepped in a hole the dog dug. I broke it in two places, and had to have surgery. Two screws were put in the joint of my ankle. I have only recently (as in Tuesday) begun walking with absolutely no assistance. I got off the crutches mid-September, but still had to wear a walking boot. Now, I'm boot free! It still hurts, but not as bad. The progress is very very slow, but very very sure.
Well, that's all the updates for now.
On another note, I've also managed to have start, have, and end a fairly serious relationship. I actually got back together with an old boyfriend, only to discover that he is....well, the nicest way to put this is to say he is unstable. He holds some...ideas that are not only hard to swallow, but difficult not to find terrifying. On top of which, he also has a drinking problem, one which he not only will not acknowledge, but not get help for either. More problems than I can deal with.
So, our shortlived relationship lasted 5 months. When he told me aliens were standing at his front door looking in at him, the words "I think we need to see other people" tumbled out of my mouth before I even realized I wanted to say them. That was about a month ago, I guess.
I've moved on. I have actually posted a profile on a couple of dating sites, and so far have met one or two nice guys. Well, "met" might not quite be the right word. We talk online, and have spoken on the phone a time or two. I've also managed to find a crazy or two. That seems to be my life. I find a nice guy, and two crazy men tag along behind him. I have been talking to one though that although we have not talked much, I think he's very nice. He is very, very cute, and he seems incredibly sweet. We'll see where it goes, and if nothing else, I think he'll make a great friend.
The kids are back in school. C has a sub right now, for the next 5 weeks or so, which his regular teacher is out on maternity leave. This has been a struggle. C and the sub do not get along well at all. And I myself have had a run in with her, although I will admit that part of mine may have been impacted by the fact that at first sight, she strongly reminded me of my dead grandmother, whom I did not get along with at all. J is in Kindergarten this year, and he is doing splendidly so far. He's had few behavior issues, and his academics are outstanding. I'm hoping it will stay this way.
They both have field trips coming up in the next couple of weeks, one to the local petting farm, the other to a local museum. They should both have loads of fun. We, as a family, are going to go to the farm next weekend for their Fall Fun Nights, where they have a hay maze, a reptile exhibit, a nighttime hay ride, and many other things. Halloween night, or somewhere right around then, we are going to a haunted house. Trick or treating is an iffy proposition this year, as one of the other recent developments was breaking my ankle.
Back in July, I broke my ankle when I stepped in a hole the dog dug. I broke it in two places, and had to have surgery. Two screws were put in the joint of my ankle. I have only recently (as in Tuesday) begun walking with absolutely no assistance. I got off the crutches mid-September, but still had to wear a walking boot. Now, I'm boot free! It still hurts, but not as bad. The progress is very very slow, but very very sure.
Well, that's all the updates for now.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Full Moon Delay
The full moon was last Thursday, but I believe there's been a delay to it's effects this month. My kids have been nuts the last couple of days. Just totally spazzing, not listening, it's like they're a couple of animals. I was fully prepared for this kind of behavior...last Thursday. And really, even Friday, because my kids aren't big on following rules of logic, although logic and the full moon don't really go together, do they? Well, anyway, I was prepared for this last week. When it didn't happen, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and did a little happy dance out of sight in my bedroom, joyful that this behavior stayed away this month. Then...this week. It starts. And I wasn't prepared. So I've been going crazy Monday and yesterday.
And before that...do you know what I hate about owning my own home? There's no landlord to call when things go wrong. For the last few weeks, we had some really gorgeous weather. Beautiful sunny days, comfortable temperatures. We were able to open the windows every day, let the fresh air in, and be very comfortable. This is something that only happens twice a year in this part of the country, and usually we're lucky if it lasts a week. But, then after the little cold snap last week, I knew the heat was on it's way, so I decided to turn on the air conditioning. This did not go well.
My parents were mowing the yard, so we were outside. I flipped on the a/c and went back outside. I come in an hour or so later, to find that my house is now warmer than outside. I discover that my a/c is blowing heat, because the reverse valve (the thingie that makes it go back and forth between heat and a/c) isn't...well, reversing. This is not an easy thing to fix, did you know that? I know that. Now.
It took us all weekend to get this figured out and fixed. And the sad part? It was my mother who fixed it! My mom rocks! I told her she's my new hero. It was a very hot, harsh weekend for us. But by late Sunday afternoon, we had a/c, and it was blissful, wonderful relief to feel it.
Even with the heat, my kids had so much fun. They were so ready to color eggs, they wanted to start before I even boiled the eggs. It was really pretty funny.
Speaking of the eggs, the dog and I have to have a talk. The dog tried to give me up! My kids tend to get up very early, even on the weekends (a horrendous habit I am trying mightily to break them of), so I got up at about 4am to put the eggs out, because my wonderfully innocent babies still believe in the Easter Bunny, and I don't want them to know otherwise just yet. So, here I am with a carton full of eggs and a flashlight, stepping gingerly on tiptoes and holding my breath to hide eggs, and what does the damn dog do? Starts growling and barking at the flashlight beam, which he can just barely see through the blinds. And of course, I can't just yell at him to shut up! I did manage to successfully hide the eggs, get back to bed, and get some more sleep, with the kids being blissfully unaware. They were amazed at where the Easter Bunny hid the eggs this year, and thrilled at what he put in their baskets.
And while we're on the subject of Easter, did you know that apparently, when you go to your child's class at school, you are there, not for your child, but to socialize with other adults? This was news to me. I went on Friday to J's class, to color eggs, and watch Wizard of Oz with him. I spent my time there with him. I sat with him, talked to him, laughed with him, and helped him color his eggs. As I did this, I watched 3 other mothers come in, talk to other mothers and the teacher and completely ignore thier children's presence in the room. One even told her daughter to go away, that she'd talk to her later! What is the point of going to your child's class if you are just going to ignore him or her? I mean, really. I went to spend time with my son, to give him a special memory of some one on one time he got to spend with mommy, without having to share me with his brother. I didn't go to stand around and talk to other adults, something I can do anytime, anywhere, and not have to ignore my kid to do so.
I've bought a new camera. It should be here tomorrow, so I will be posting tons of new pictures in the coming weeks, as I put my new camera through it's paces. Keep checking.
And before that...do you know what I hate about owning my own home? There's no landlord to call when things go wrong. For the last few weeks, we had some really gorgeous weather. Beautiful sunny days, comfortable temperatures. We were able to open the windows every day, let the fresh air in, and be very comfortable. This is something that only happens twice a year in this part of the country, and usually we're lucky if it lasts a week. But, then after the little cold snap last week, I knew the heat was on it's way, so I decided to turn on the air conditioning. This did not go well.
My parents were mowing the yard, so we were outside. I flipped on the a/c and went back outside. I come in an hour or so later, to find that my house is now warmer than outside. I discover that my a/c is blowing heat, because the reverse valve (the thingie that makes it go back and forth between heat and a/c) isn't...well, reversing. This is not an easy thing to fix, did you know that? I know that. Now.
It took us all weekend to get this figured out and fixed. And the sad part? It was my mother who fixed it! My mom rocks! I told her she's my new hero. It was a very hot, harsh weekend for us. But by late Sunday afternoon, we had a/c, and it was blissful, wonderful relief to feel it.
Even with the heat, my kids had so much fun. They were so ready to color eggs, they wanted to start before I even boiled the eggs. It was really pretty funny.
Speaking of the eggs, the dog and I have to have a talk. The dog tried to give me up! My kids tend to get up very early, even on the weekends (a horrendous habit I am trying mightily to break them of), so I got up at about 4am to put the eggs out, because my wonderfully innocent babies still believe in the Easter Bunny, and I don't want them to know otherwise just yet. So, here I am with a carton full of eggs and a flashlight, stepping gingerly on tiptoes and holding my breath to hide eggs, and what does the damn dog do? Starts growling and barking at the flashlight beam, which he can just barely see through the blinds. And of course, I can't just yell at him to shut up! I did manage to successfully hide the eggs, get back to bed, and get some more sleep, with the kids being blissfully unaware. They were amazed at where the Easter Bunny hid the eggs this year, and thrilled at what he put in their baskets.
And while we're on the subject of Easter, did you know that apparently, when you go to your child's class at school, you are there, not for your child, but to socialize with other adults? This was news to me. I went on Friday to J's class, to color eggs, and watch Wizard of Oz with him. I spent my time there with him. I sat with him, talked to him, laughed with him, and helped him color his eggs. As I did this, I watched 3 other mothers come in, talk to other mothers and the teacher and completely ignore thier children's presence in the room. One even told her daughter to go away, that she'd talk to her later! What is the point of going to your child's class if you are just going to ignore him or her? I mean, really. I went to spend time with my son, to give him a special memory of some one on one time he got to spend with mommy, without having to share me with his brother. I didn't go to stand around and talk to other adults, something I can do anytime, anywhere, and not have to ignore my kid to do so.
I've bought a new camera. It should be here tomorrow, so I will be posting tons of new pictures in the coming weeks, as I put my new camera through it's paces. Keep checking.
Monday, April 6, 2009
One of those days...and beyond
Today was the first day back to school after Spring Break. Yay, right? Ha.
C and I have this thing, every morning, where we drop J off at his classroom, and then C goes from J's classroom to his own. J's is a portable, so I drive away. As I drive away, C walks along the sidewalk and waves to me. It's our own little thing, just a little special something we share. And he forgot this morning! It was rather disappointing.
But that wasn't the worst part of my day. No, that was something else entirely, something that actually had no effect on my family at all, but still just blew me away. In our area, there was something that happened that led to a high speed chase between the cops and a suspect or suspects, during which the suspect(s) fired on the officers. From what I understand, no one was hurt by any of this, which is a huge relief. BUT, apparently, a school bus for our school system got shot. No kids were on the bus, and the driver was not hurt, it just broke a window and dented the bus body. As good as that is to hear, here's the problem: The school system calls to let you know when things happen, to reassure and comfort. Nice, right? Nope. The call is a recording and it starts like this: "As you have probably heard by now, one of our buses was shot today." Uh.....NO, I HADN'T HEARD THAT YET! I mean, really? This is how we reassure parents, by announcing blythly news they probably HAVEN'T heard yet? Honestly, I was home all day, except for a couple of errands, and had been to our local news websites, and had no knowledge of this bus. So, I imagine the parents who were working or out running around all day had even less knowledge of what happened this morning than I did. So, perhaps that was not the best way to start that "reassuring" phone call. It seems to me that someone needs to remind our school superintendent about the old cat on a roof.
Could the superintendent really not come up with something better than what he did? I mean, how about "We want to reassure you about our commitment to your child's safety. With that in mind, we would like to inform you about an incident that took place today. Firs,t let me reassure you that no one was injured, and no one was in any danger of being injured..." and the move on to the bus being in a shootout. Hey, maybe I can apply for the superintendent's job?
Oh, and the last not so great part of today? The kids are grounded. No outside for a week. What fun. Hours of afternoon and brightly lit evening listening to "Please, can we go outside?" I hate when I have to do this to them. Not just because they hate it, and they whine, but because I really like them being outside. So many kids these days sit around watching the boob tube or playing video games, instead of being outside, getting fresh air and exercise. Don't get me wrong, my kids watch plenty of TV and play their fair share of video games, but they spend most of their free time playing outside. And, also, in the interest of honesty, the video games aren't that bad. They're the V-Smile educational games, no violence, and very helpful with their education. They get to play some games on the computer, as well, but again: educational only. After seeing how their father got addicted to video games, I'm going to make sure if they develop an addiction, at least it will be a helpful one.
I must go prepare for what will hopefully be the last cold snap of the season. I'm thinking of starting a petition that, if you are outside in shorts for Spring Break, wishing you could swim, that there cannot be any more cold snaps after that. Do you think it'll work?
I didn't think so either.
But a girl has to have some dreams, right?
C and I have this thing, every morning, where we drop J off at his classroom, and then C goes from J's classroom to his own. J's is a portable, so I drive away. As I drive away, C walks along the sidewalk and waves to me. It's our own little thing, just a little special something we share. And he forgot this morning! It was rather disappointing.
But that wasn't the worst part of my day. No, that was something else entirely, something that actually had no effect on my family at all, but still just blew me away. In our area, there was something that happened that led to a high speed chase between the cops and a suspect or suspects, during which the suspect(s) fired on the officers. From what I understand, no one was hurt by any of this, which is a huge relief. BUT, apparently, a school bus for our school system got shot. No kids were on the bus, and the driver was not hurt, it just broke a window and dented the bus body. As good as that is to hear, here's the problem: The school system calls to let you know when things happen, to reassure and comfort. Nice, right? Nope. The call is a recording and it starts like this: "As you have probably heard by now, one of our buses was shot today." Uh.....NO, I HADN'T HEARD THAT YET! I mean, really? This is how we reassure parents, by announcing blythly news they probably HAVEN'T heard yet? Honestly, I was home all day, except for a couple of errands, and had been to our local news websites, and had no knowledge of this bus. So, I imagine the parents who were working or out running around all day had even less knowledge of what happened this morning than I did. So, perhaps that was not the best way to start that "reassuring" phone call. It seems to me that someone needs to remind our school superintendent about the old cat on a roof.
Could the superintendent really not come up with something better than what he did? I mean, how about "We want to reassure you about our commitment to your child's safety. With that in mind, we would like to inform you about an incident that took place today. Firs,t let me reassure you that no one was injured, and no one was in any danger of being injured..." and the move on to the bus being in a shootout. Hey, maybe I can apply for the superintendent's job?
Oh, and the last not so great part of today? The kids are grounded. No outside for a week. What fun. Hours of afternoon and brightly lit evening listening to "Please, can we go outside?" I hate when I have to do this to them. Not just because they hate it, and they whine, but because I really like them being outside. So many kids these days sit around watching the boob tube or playing video games, instead of being outside, getting fresh air and exercise. Don't get me wrong, my kids watch plenty of TV and play their fair share of video games, but they spend most of their free time playing outside. And, also, in the interest of honesty, the video games aren't that bad. They're the V-Smile educational games, no violence, and very helpful with their education. They get to play some games on the computer, as well, but again: educational only. After seeing how their father got addicted to video games, I'm going to make sure if they develop an addiction, at least it will be a helpful one.
I must go prepare for what will hopefully be the last cold snap of the season. I'm thinking of starting a petition that, if you are outside in shorts for Spring Break, wishing you could swim, that there cannot be any more cold snaps after that. Do you think it'll work?
I didn't think so either.
But a girl has to have some dreams, right?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Farmer What?!
So, J started Pre-K back in August. He has learned so much, and is doing amazing things. One thing that happened, though, that was a little shocking, was when the school contacted me and wanted to evaluate him for speech. It turned out he has a moderate speech impairment. I was sort of aware of it, but as his mother, I tend to automatically translate what he says and understand him, so I hadn't realized what a problem it really was.
So he's been in speech therapy at school since October. He has made an amazing amount of progress. Which is why I was quite shocked to hear him singing "Farmer in the Dell" the other night.
"The farmer takes a life, the farmer takes a life!"
Huh? Run that by me again?
"The farmer takes a life, the farmer takes a life!"
Nope, I wasn't hearing things. I almost died laughing. This was not his speech impairment at work. This was a case of chronic lyricosis. His class had been singing the little song at school, and he somehow misinterpreted "wife" as being "life". All I could think was "Is this how serial killers start?"
I tried to explain to him that it should be "wife". I'm not sure if he gets it, since he's decided not to sing that song anymore. He's moved on to trying to figure out what termites eat. It's very...odd the way a child's mind works.
I think I may have mentioned this in the past, but C has a really awesome teacher this year. I'm not sure how long she's been teaching, but I know she's taught pretty much every grade level, and she just has this way with kids that is just wonderful. She really understands them, and is totally on their side. She's also got a great sense of humor, and is very understanding, which can come in extremely handy. For example, Tuesday's homework.
They send home this math worksheet on which they want my son to take an empty paper milk carton (you remember, in school, the milk we drank?), and use it to fill up a 2 liter soda bottle, a bucket, an empty gallon milk jug, and a bowl or trash can (can't really figure it out) with water to find out how many cartons it takes to fill up each container. I could not believe that they actually expected us to do this! Aside from the mess that would be created (b/c you know no 5 yr old can watch his big brother do that without wanting to get in on it, thus spilling water everywhere), imagine how time consuming it would be. Plus, you know it's going to take at least twice as long b/c they'll keep losing track and having to start over again. I told C he didn't have to do it, and I would be ok with the no credit grade for it. Then, I e-mailed the teacher. Turned out she wanted them to just estimate how many cartons they thought it would take, but she'd been called into a meeting and so wasn't able to explain that to the kids before time to go home.
Which brings me back to my vent the other day. Why is my son's teacher being taken out of her classroom during class time for a meeting? Between budget cuts, FCAT, and other crap, my son is already being cheated on his education, and now you're going to make it worse by taking his teacher out of the classroom when she should be teaching him and helping him and leave him with an assistant who doesn't have any teaching experience whatsoever and expect her to teach him?
As if this isn't bad enough, I have recently come to the realization that my son has learned more from watching TV than he has at school. I'm very lucky that my kids are not huge on cartoons. Don't get me wrong; they do love to watch them. But with only a few exceptions, give them a choice, and they will pick something else over cartoons. They love to watch Discovery, Discovery Kids, Animal Planet, History, and the Science Channel. My kids have learned some very interesting, and amazing, things from those channels, more than they do from school. C's teacher has told me, more than once, that she is amazed at his wealth of knowledge. And they say watching TV is bad. And for the record, my kids play outside plenty, too.
It seems now to be only a matter of time before we will be moving back in with my parents. The thought still makes me nauseous. I am trying to make the best of it. I tell myself this will allow me to buy the new camera I've been wanting, and I can get my kids their own computer (so they can quit screwing up mine), and my babysitters will be much closer when a kid gets sick and I need to run to the store. But none of that makes me feel better about losing the home that I dreamed about for so long. None of it makes it easier to give up my kitchen with tons of counter space that I love so dearly, that makes baking and cooking so much easier and more fun. My master bathroom with the deep bathtub from which I can see the TV in my bedroom, therefore allowing me to watch movies and TV while enjoying a nice, hot bubble bath. The huge backyard that allows the dog and the kids more than enough room to run and play and have fun. Of course, it's filled with rain today. One less day that they get to enjoy it.
I haven't even told them yet. I'm not sure what I'm more afraid of: that they'll be horribly upset and very disappointed, or that they'll be thrilled beyond words. They love their grandparents and always want to go see them, so I think they'll be fine with the idea of moving back in with them, where they will see them every day. And being kids, they don't understand all the grown up emotions that go along with a situation like this, and they don't realize that their joy only makes things worse. And you can't explain it to them, b/c there is no way to explain it where they don't think that you're telling them they're doing something wrong.
Enough depressing thoughts. I'll be posting some new recipes and hopefully some new pictures in the next few days. Watch for them.
So he's been in speech therapy at school since October. He has made an amazing amount of progress. Which is why I was quite shocked to hear him singing "Farmer in the Dell" the other night.
"The farmer takes a life, the farmer takes a life!"
Huh? Run that by me again?
"The farmer takes a life, the farmer takes a life!"
Nope, I wasn't hearing things. I almost died laughing. This was not his speech impairment at work. This was a case of chronic lyricosis. His class had been singing the little song at school, and he somehow misinterpreted "wife" as being "life". All I could think was "Is this how serial killers start?"
I tried to explain to him that it should be "wife". I'm not sure if he gets it, since he's decided not to sing that song anymore. He's moved on to trying to figure out what termites eat. It's very...odd the way a child's mind works.
I think I may have mentioned this in the past, but C has a really awesome teacher this year. I'm not sure how long she's been teaching, but I know she's taught pretty much every grade level, and she just has this way with kids that is just wonderful. She really understands them, and is totally on their side. She's also got a great sense of humor, and is very understanding, which can come in extremely handy. For example, Tuesday's homework.
They send home this math worksheet on which they want my son to take an empty paper milk carton (you remember, in school, the milk we drank?), and use it to fill up a 2 liter soda bottle, a bucket, an empty gallon milk jug, and a bowl or trash can (can't really figure it out) with water to find out how many cartons it takes to fill up each container. I could not believe that they actually expected us to do this! Aside from the mess that would be created (b/c you know no 5 yr old can watch his big brother do that without wanting to get in on it, thus spilling water everywhere), imagine how time consuming it would be. Plus, you know it's going to take at least twice as long b/c they'll keep losing track and having to start over again. I told C he didn't have to do it, and I would be ok with the no credit grade for it. Then, I e-mailed the teacher. Turned out she wanted them to just estimate how many cartons they thought it would take, but she'd been called into a meeting and so wasn't able to explain that to the kids before time to go home.
Which brings me back to my vent the other day. Why is my son's teacher being taken out of her classroom during class time for a meeting? Between budget cuts, FCAT, and other crap, my son is already being cheated on his education, and now you're going to make it worse by taking his teacher out of the classroom when she should be teaching him and helping him and leave him with an assistant who doesn't have any teaching experience whatsoever and expect her to teach him?
As if this isn't bad enough, I have recently come to the realization that my son has learned more from watching TV than he has at school. I'm very lucky that my kids are not huge on cartoons. Don't get me wrong; they do love to watch them. But with only a few exceptions, give them a choice, and they will pick something else over cartoons. They love to watch Discovery, Discovery Kids, Animal Planet, History, and the Science Channel. My kids have learned some very interesting, and amazing, things from those channels, more than they do from school. C's teacher has told me, more than once, that she is amazed at his wealth of knowledge. And they say watching TV is bad. And for the record, my kids play outside plenty, too.
It seems now to be only a matter of time before we will be moving back in with my parents. The thought still makes me nauseous. I am trying to make the best of it. I tell myself this will allow me to buy the new camera I've been wanting, and I can get my kids their own computer (so they can quit screwing up mine), and my babysitters will be much closer when a kid gets sick and I need to run to the store. But none of that makes me feel better about losing the home that I dreamed about for so long. None of it makes it easier to give up my kitchen with tons of counter space that I love so dearly, that makes baking and cooking so much easier and more fun. My master bathroom with the deep bathtub from which I can see the TV in my bedroom, therefore allowing me to watch movies and TV while enjoying a nice, hot bubble bath. The huge backyard that allows the dog and the kids more than enough room to run and play and have fun. Of course, it's filled with rain today. One less day that they get to enjoy it.
I haven't even told them yet. I'm not sure what I'm more afraid of: that they'll be horribly upset and very disappointed, or that they'll be thrilled beyond words. They love their grandparents and always want to go see them, so I think they'll be fine with the idea of moving back in with them, where they will see them every day. And being kids, they don't understand all the grown up emotions that go along with a situation like this, and they don't realize that their joy only makes things worse. And you can't explain it to them, b/c there is no way to explain it where they don't think that you're telling them they're doing something wrong.
Enough depressing thoughts. I'll be posting some new recipes and hopefully some new pictures in the next few days. Watch for them.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Wow...
It's been a very, very long time since I last posted. I've been slacking, and I really don't have much of an excuse. I do have plenty to say, however.
Has anyone else noticed that in these tough times, we are scrimping on the things that matter most, the things that we shouldn't be scrimping on? My children's school system has to cut between $23-$33 MILLION dollars from its budget for the 2009-2010 school yr. Now, maybe I'm wrong here, but it seems to me that leaving the next generation sorely undereducated or even UNeducated is NOT the way to solve this economic crisis. How are my children ever to have a chance to do better than me if their education isn't as good as mine? I am seriously considering homeschooling, depending on the cuts they decide to make, in order to be sure my children get a halfway decent education.
Our school district has cut 522 teachers. 522 teachers that are now jobless. Only 4 of them at my children's school, but one of them is J's Pre-K teacher. Granted, he'll have her thru the end of the yr, but still. She'll be out of a job, and just like me and everyone else out there, she has a home, a child, and bills to take care of. There will now be classrooms with more kids in them, leading to a less than stellar education. They keep insisting that "we will still be within regulations regarding class size." Well, whoop-de-doo. You can drive 55 and still be within the legal speed limit, but does that mean it's always best to drive 55? Of course not.
C struggles with math. He's apparently inherited my sorry math skills. I am very concerned that he will suffer greatly from these cuts, since the loss of teachers is not the only change that will be made. We don't know what else they are going to do yet. It's a waiting game right now, as is everything else.
Right now, C gets extra help in the classroom for his math issues. But that's because there's an assistant in the classroom. Will there be one next yr? Or will my son just be expected to either figure it out on his own or fail?
Yet, in all this discussion of "what can we cut?", no one is suggesting FCAT. All this No Child Left Behind crap, and what is it really doing? Well, I'll tell you this: it's not doing what they claim it does, or should. I see my son being taught stuff that has absolutely no real bearing on life, but it must be learned because it's on some stupid test that even the people who administrate it can't pass. They won't admit that, but seriously, if they took the test, I'm sure that probably 90% of the school board members, government and everyone else involved in the creation of this ridiculous "program" couldn't pass it.
Cutting education budgets is a mistake. I've always tried to be an optimistic person, not all gloom and doom. But I don't see any possible way that these cuts will NOT lead to bad things. Crime and drug use will rise as these kids get older. My kids will miss out on things that I had when I was a child, and while I will admit that I was slightly spoiled, it's just not right. There is supposed to be that...expectation that the next generation will do better than the one before it. Better money, better home, education, job, on and on down the line. Well, so far, what little I had that was better than my parents has been taken away from me. And my own children, at least the way it looks right now, will never have anything better than me. They'll be lucky to have things as good as I did.
I was laid off last May, and I still have no job. There are no jobs around here. What few there are, have their pick of candidates. I'm stuck in a limbo where people who are better educated than me are taking my jobs, but I can't get a job in a lesser position because I'm "overqualified, and we're not going to train you just to have you leave when something better comes along." I've got a family to support, I don't want to work at Target or Walgreens, but if they'd give me a damn job, I'd be grateful and I damn sure wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.
My kids love the extra time with me, we have more time to work on homework, to play games, watch movies, play outside and just be together. And I won't deny I enjoy it, too. But at the same time, it's a major problem too. It would appear that I may end up having to give up my house. Things have just reached the point where it's not feasible to keep it anymore. This breaks my heart in so many ways. This house is my dream, it was my goal for so long, and I swore once I had it, I would never leave. It's the first home that both my kids could call theirs. I feel as though I am letting them down, that I have failed them. I haven't told them yet. And frankly, I don't know that they'll really care. We'll have to move back in with my parents, if we have to give the house up, which my kids would actually like, so they've told me. But that doesn't eliminate my feelings of guilt and failure.
My mother told me that she thought I was not a very materialistic person, and I'm not. But a home...it's not just a possession. It's security, it's comfort, familiarity, it's the one thing that should be constant, that you know no matter what else is happening or changing, home is always there. Losing a house is not just losing a material possession. It's like losing all that security, comfort, the consistency.
I know there are countless others out there that are going thru the same situation. We are not the only ones. But that knowledge does not make the situation any easier.
Everything is so screwed up. Let's hope it gets better soon.
Has anyone else noticed that in these tough times, we are scrimping on the things that matter most, the things that we shouldn't be scrimping on? My children's school system has to cut between $23-$33 MILLION dollars from its budget for the 2009-2010 school yr. Now, maybe I'm wrong here, but it seems to me that leaving the next generation sorely undereducated or even UNeducated is NOT the way to solve this economic crisis. How are my children ever to have a chance to do better than me if their education isn't as good as mine? I am seriously considering homeschooling, depending on the cuts they decide to make, in order to be sure my children get a halfway decent education.
Our school district has cut 522 teachers. 522 teachers that are now jobless. Only 4 of them at my children's school, but one of them is J's Pre-K teacher. Granted, he'll have her thru the end of the yr, but still. She'll be out of a job, and just like me and everyone else out there, she has a home, a child, and bills to take care of. There will now be classrooms with more kids in them, leading to a less than stellar education. They keep insisting that "we will still be within regulations regarding class size." Well, whoop-de-doo. You can drive 55 and still be within the legal speed limit, but does that mean it's always best to drive 55? Of course not.
C struggles with math. He's apparently inherited my sorry math skills. I am very concerned that he will suffer greatly from these cuts, since the loss of teachers is not the only change that will be made. We don't know what else they are going to do yet. It's a waiting game right now, as is everything else.
Right now, C gets extra help in the classroom for his math issues. But that's because there's an assistant in the classroom. Will there be one next yr? Or will my son just be expected to either figure it out on his own or fail?
Yet, in all this discussion of "what can we cut?", no one is suggesting FCAT. All this No Child Left Behind crap, and what is it really doing? Well, I'll tell you this: it's not doing what they claim it does, or should. I see my son being taught stuff that has absolutely no real bearing on life, but it must be learned because it's on some stupid test that even the people who administrate it can't pass. They won't admit that, but seriously, if they took the test, I'm sure that probably 90% of the school board members, government and everyone else involved in the creation of this ridiculous "program" couldn't pass it.
Cutting education budgets is a mistake. I've always tried to be an optimistic person, not all gloom and doom. But I don't see any possible way that these cuts will NOT lead to bad things. Crime and drug use will rise as these kids get older. My kids will miss out on things that I had when I was a child, and while I will admit that I was slightly spoiled, it's just not right. There is supposed to be that...expectation that the next generation will do better than the one before it. Better money, better home, education, job, on and on down the line. Well, so far, what little I had that was better than my parents has been taken away from me. And my own children, at least the way it looks right now, will never have anything better than me. They'll be lucky to have things as good as I did.
I was laid off last May, and I still have no job. There are no jobs around here. What few there are, have their pick of candidates. I'm stuck in a limbo where people who are better educated than me are taking my jobs, but I can't get a job in a lesser position because I'm "overqualified, and we're not going to train you just to have you leave when something better comes along." I've got a family to support, I don't want to work at Target or Walgreens, but if they'd give me a damn job, I'd be grateful and I damn sure wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.
My kids love the extra time with me, we have more time to work on homework, to play games, watch movies, play outside and just be together. And I won't deny I enjoy it, too. But at the same time, it's a major problem too. It would appear that I may end up having to give up my house. Things have just reached the point where it's not feasible to keep it anymore. This breaks my heart in so many ways. This house is my dream, it was my goal for so long, and I swore once I had it, I would never leave. It's the first home that both my kids could call theirs. I feel as though I am letting them down, that I have failed them. I haven't told them yet. And frankly, I don't know that they'll really care. We'll have to move back in with my parents, if we have to give the house up, which my kids would actually like, so they've told me. But that doesn't eliminate my feelings of guilt and failure.
My mother told me that she thought I was not a very materialistic person, and I'm not. But a home...it's not just a possession. It's security, it's comfort, familiarity, it's the one thing that should be constant, that you know no matter what else is happening or changing, home is always there. Losing a house is not just losing a material possession. It's like losing all that security, comfort, the consistency.
I know there are countless others out there that are going thru the same situation. We are not the only ones. But that knowledge does not make the situation any easier.
Everything is so screwed up. Let's hope it gets better soon.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Knowledge? Or just a big mouth with a direct line to a little brain?
When I was growing up, I couldn't wait to escape the tiny town I lived in. It was unbearably boring, with nothing to do and no one to hang out with. That was not offensive to my friends, because they felt the same as I did. Our parents were too controlling, shackling us with tons of rules and curfews, which as adults now, we realize were actually tender chains of love, not shackles.
Time passed, and eventually, I did grow up, and I did move away. I moved away, had my fun, and now, ten years later, I'm back, raising my two children here so that they can hate it as I did, only to later realize how nice it actually is.
I'm sure you're familiar with the name Wesley Snipes? Yes, honey, I am from the Ocala area. You know, that area where you just can't turn around without seein' a cross-burnin' or a lynchin'. I mean, goodness gracious, we're just so damn racist around here, we can't stand it. ***typed with a honey-thick Southern drawl***
Ok, I'm done with the sarcasm. Seriously, this whole situation is ridiculous. I mean, the fact that he's pulling the race card on charges of tax evasion...really. It's pretty simple math...you owe taxes, if you don't pay them...hmmm, yeah you'll get charged with tax evasion.
But it's not just his claim. It's the fact that everyone who wants to agree with him, and say that this area is a "hotbed of Klan activity"...has never been here! Or if they have, they were driving through on their way to somewhere else! So, how, exactly did they discover all this Klan activity?
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying there aren't any racist people around here. There are. Just like there are in every other city, in every county, in every state. Racist people are everywhere. And they're wrong. Period.
With that said, this area, while it definitely does have it's share of rednecks, is not any better or any worse than any other area of the country. The thing I find most offensive, though, is that all the people who are saying how bad this area is, are people who've never been here or who've only passed through very briefly. That would be like me saying that Miami is full of Cuban voodoo. I hear all the time that there's tons of Cuban people down there. True? I don't know. I've never been there. Do they all do voodoo? I don't know. I've never been there, never met them. I'm sure there may be some, but that doesn't make it full of it. And I can't say either way, because, again: I've never been there. I would never presume to make a declarative opinion about something like that without having actually been to the place, living there, and making an effort to find out.
So, I'm left to wonder why people feel the need to spout opinions based on nothing more than air and call them fact. You can't call it knowledge when there is no knowledge behind it. So, the only thing I'm left with is that their mouth is bigger than their brain, and and so whatever few things filter down from the tiny mind flow out of the big mouth like water in a thunderstorm from a dry rain spout: unstoppable.
Time passed, and eventually, I did grow up, and I did move away. I moved away, had my fun, and now, ten years later, I'm back, raising my two children here so that they can hate it as I did, only to later realize how nice it actually is.
I'm sure you're familiar with the name Wesley Snipes? Yes, honey, I am from the Ocala area. You know, that area where you just can't turn around without seein' a cross-burnin' or a lynchin'. I mean, goodness gracious, we're just so damn racist around here, we can't stand it. ***typed with a honey-thick Southern drawl***
Ok, I'm done with the sarcasm. Seriously, this whole situation is ridiculous. I mean, the fact that he's pulling the race card on charges of tax evasion...really. It's pretty simple math...you owe taxes, if you don't pay them...hmmm, yeah you'll get charged with tax evasion.
But it's not just his claim. It's the fact that everyone who wants to agree with him, and say that this area is a "hotbed of Klan activity"...has never been here! Or if they have, they were driving through on their way to somewhere else! So, how, exactly did they discover all this Klan activity?
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying there aren't any racist people around here. There are. Just like there are in every other city, in every county, in every state. Racist people are everywhere. And they're wrong. Period.
With that said, this area, while it definitely does have it's share of rednecks, is not any better or any worse than any other area of the country. The thing I find most offensive, though, is that all the people who are saying how bad this area is, are people who've never been here or who've only passed through very briefly. That would be like me saying that Miami is full of Cuban voodoo. I hear all the time that there's tons of Cuban people down there. True? I don't know. I've never been there. Do they all do voodoo? I don't know. I've never been there, never met them. I'm sure there may be some, but that doesn't make it full of it. And I can't say either way, because, again: I've never been there. I would never presume to make a declarative opinion about something like that without having actually been to the place, living there, and making an effort to find out.
So, I'm left to wonder why people feel the need to spout opinions based on nothing more than air and call them fact. You can't call it knowledge when there is no knowledge behind it. So, the only thing I'm left with is that their mouth is bigger than their brain, and and so whatever few things filter down from the tiny mind flow out of the big mouth like water in a thunderstorm from a dry rain spout: unstoppable.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Role Models? Maybe not.
Have you noticed how we seem to hold "celebrities" to a higher moral standard than we do most "average" people? Let me put a disclaimer here: I am not condoning the actions of any celebrity, nor am I excusing, or justifying them either.
Dog the Bounty Hunter was just yanked off the A&E schedule for his use of the N-word. Now, again, not condoning, excusing, or justifying. With that said, here's how I see it: He was just fired for something he did in what he thought was privacy. His use of that word was wrong, pure and simple, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He should not have used it; no one said. I agree with most people, though, who say that if people really want that word to go away, the rappers need to stop using it, and so do every day black people. But, back to my point. He was saying something to his son in what he thought was going to be a private message. Since when do we get fired for things we do at home? How many of us would be fired tomorrow if our boss found out what we said about him/her at home? And really, we've all had that really bad day when we came home and told our spouse, child, friend, neighbor, whoever, what a jerk the boss was.
Now, I'm not saying that he didn't deserve some kind of repercussion. This got out, and as a public figure, yes he does have some responsibility to set an example. I think anyone in a position of that type has an obligation to set an example, and to try to do good with their status. But, at the same time, they're entitled to make mistakes, just like the rest of us. And yet, when they do, we act shocked and amazed, as if we thought that they just couldn't do that.
Let's be honest here: If this was your best friend, your spouse, your sister/brother/mom/dad, neighbor, co-worker, whoever, and they'd made this comment in their home, and it got out, you'd be up in arms, angry and outraged that they were being fired for something they did in their home. And yet, when it's a celebrity, we demand they be fired, lose everything they've ever had. Is it a case of wanting to punish the accused, or is it a case of being jealous and wanting to bring them down to our status?
Now, don't get me wrong: I've never been a fan of Dog. I only watched his show because I think his son, Leland, is hot. I've always felt that Dog seemed a bit...hypocritical, doing his little prayer circle before hunting, and then calling the bounties all kinds of names. And I realize that we're dealing with the criminal element here. He's not the mailman delivering the phone bill. He's a bounty hunter, hunting down lowlifes who've broken the law, and then chosen to run/hide when it comes time to face the judge. Yeah, calling them names is expected, and hell, I say appropriate. But it seems hypocritical to me to stand around and pray first. You're a Christian, fine. You believe, great. But something about that whole scenario just seems weird.
Anyway, my point was to say, why do we hold celebrities to such a higher standard? Is it because they really should be? Should we really expect them to be so much better than us morally? And if we should, why? Why shouldn't we expect ourselves to be better? As I said, I believe that they are in a position to set an example, yes. But, with that said, I prefer my children's role models to be someone a bit more...down to earth. Celebrities have plenty of money at their disposal to do anything they want, buy what they want, and change whatever they want about their lives. Us regular people don't have that luxury. We go to work everyday at jobs we despise, working for and with people we don't like, who annoy or anger us, and come home to clean the house, cook dinner, help with homework, and repeat ourselves five times before we're heard when we say it's bedtime. I'd rather my children learn from that than from the celebrity who can crack up a car in a high speed car chase, blame it on the drugs and go to rehab, or spend ninety minutes in jail.
That's not to say we can't admire celebrities. In a previous post, I've named some of the ones I look up to: Queen Latifah, Melissa Etheridge, Reba, and I've recently found Jenny McCarthy to be another. But the people I've looked up to the most, my entire life, have been my parents, my grandparents, and other people like them.
I think we need to change the way we look at things. I think we need to expect good from celebrities, but not demand a public beheading when they screw up. I think we need to encourage our children to look to us for their role models and their ideas of how real men and women should act. We need to take control of our lives and the future of society instead of letting it rest in the hands of celebrities who are just as human as we are and make the same mistakes that we do.
Second disclaimer: Britney Spears, Nicole Ritchey, Paris Hilton, Lindsey Lohan, and company are not included in this blog. They are just plain out of control and should be locked away somewhere until they get it together.
Dog the Bounty Hunter was just yanked off the A&E schedule for his use of the N-word. Now, again, not condoning, excusing, or justifying. With that said, here's how I see it: He was just fired for something he did in what he thought was privacy. His use of that word was wrong, pure and simple, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He should not have used it; no one said. I agree with most people, though, who say that if people really want that word to go away, the rappers need to stop using it, and so do every day black people. But, back to my point. He was saying something to his son in what he thought was going to be a private message. Since when do we get fired for things we do at home? How many of us would be fired tomorrow if our boss found out what we said about him/her at home? And really, we've all had that really bad day when we came home and told our spouse, child, friend, neighbor, whoever, what a jerk the boss was.
Now, I'm not saying that he didn't deserve some kind of repercussion. This got out, and as a public figure, yes he does have some responsibility to set an example. I think anyone in a position of that type has an obligation to set an example, and to try to do good with their status. But, at the same time, they're entitled to make mistakes, just like the rest of us. And yet, when they do, we act shocked and amazed, as if we thought that they just couldn't do that.
Let's be honest here: If this was your best friend, your spouse, your sister/brother/mom/dad, neighbor, co-worker, whoever, and they'd made this comment in their home, and it got out, you'd be up in arms, angry and outraged that they were being fired for something they did in their home. And yet, when it's a celebrity, we demand they be fired, lose everything they've ever had. Is it a case of wanting to punish the accused, or is it a case of being jealous and wanting to bring them down to our status?
Now, don't get me wrong: I've never been a fan of Dog. I only watched his show because I think his son, Leland, is hot. I've always felt that Dog seemed a bit...hypocritical, doing his little prayer circle before hunting, and then calling the bounties all kinds of names. And I realize that we're dealing with the criminal element here. He's not the mailman delivering the phone bill. He's a bounty hunter, hunting down lowlifes who've broken the law, and then chosen to run/hide when it comes time to face the judge. Yeah, calling them names is expected, and hell, I say appropriate. But it seems hypocritical to me to stand around and pray first. You're a Christian, fine. You believe, great. But something about that whole scenario just seems weird.
Anyway, my point was to say, why do we hold celebrities to such a higher standard? Is it because they really should be? Should we really expect them to be so much better than us morally? And if we should, why? Why shouldn't we expect ourselves to be better? As I said, I believe that they are in a position to set an example, yes. But, with that said, I prefer my children's role models to be someone a bit more...down to earth. Celebrities have plenty of money at their disposal to do anything they want, buy what they want, and change whatever they want about their lives. Us regular people don't have that luxury. We go to work everyday at jobs we despise, working for and with people we don't like, who annoy or anger us, and come home to clean the house, cook dinner, help with homework, and repeat ourselves five times before we're heard when we say it's bedtime. I'd rather my children learn from that than from the celebrity who can crack up a car in a high speed car chase, blame it on the drugs and go to rehab, or spend ninety minutes in jail.
That's not to say we can't admire celebrities. In a previous post, I've named some of the ones I look up to: Queen Latifah, Melissa Etheridge, Reba, and I've recently found Jenny McCarthy to be another. But the people I've looked up to the most, my entire life, have been my parents, my grandparents, and other people like them.
I think we need to change the way we look at things. I think we need to expect good from celebrities, but not demand a public beheading when they screw up. I think we need to encourage our children to look to us for their role models and their ideas of how real men and women should act. We need to take control of our lives and the future of society instead of letting it rest in the hands of celebrities who are just as human as we are and make the same mistakes that we do.
Second disclaimer: Britney Spears, Nicole Ritchey, Paris Hilton, Lindsey Lohan, and company are not included in this blog. They are just plain out of control and should be locked away somewhere until they get it together.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
What's Important?
Last night was Halloween, of course. I took my children trick-or-treating at a walking-distance business that was having a haunted house/party for the kids in town. They were dressed up as Frankenstein, and absolutely adorable. I went as a vampire victim. LOL
They had a great time, as did I. My parents went with us, and we saw a lot of friends. One of whom was the business partner/best friend of the friend who died over the weekend. It was good to see him there. It was the first time I'd seen him since the death, and so I went to give him a hug and let him know I was there for him. He hugged me tight and I could hear the tears in his voice as he spoke in my ear. This is not a man who cries easily. I brought my boys home, and by the time we got washed up and into bed, it was ten o'clock. They weren't asleep until eleven.
I was frustrated, because I wanted to shower and get to bed myself. I was verging on angry, because I was just so damn tired, and I'd had a long day that I wanted to be over. Just when I was ready to lose my temper, I heard the echo of my friends tear-choked voice in my ear. And I realized that life is too short to be upset over a little lost sleep. I reminded myself that I should just be grateful that my children are here to keep me awake. That extra hour of sleep really isn't that important when you think that you could lose your child, your parent, significant other, friend, in just the span of time it takes to have the thought that you want to get mad at them. And would you really want them to die with you being angry at them? I know I wouldn't.
With that said, there is someone that I am mad at, and pretty much always am. And it ties in with the theme of what's important, because I cannot fathom this. My former husband owes me several thousand dollars in child support, because he hasn't paid in a couple of years. I've taken him to court twice to have him held in contempt for this, and he's been to jail once for it. He's a convicted felon on probation, which means this could, feasibly, send him to prison, under the right circumstances. I've filed papers to take him in again. This will be contempt #3. Now, there's more than one reason I can't understand him. The most obvious is: self-preservation. Most people would pay the support to keep themselves out of trouble, if for no other reason. Yet he seems to not care about that, or he's too stupid to realize how much trouble this could be. Which is entirely possible, because he's one of those people who couldn't dump water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. But, let's set aside self-preservation. How could you help concieve two children, profess to love them, to want them, and then just completely and totally turn your back on them in every possible way? How could you walk away from your own flesh and blood without a single glance back, without a twinge of guilt, and not feel the slightest remorse, guilt, regret, doubt, concern, SOMETHING?! The thought of walking away from my children is something I would do about as soon as I would grab a butcher knife and cut my own heart out of my chest. I do not understand how someone can do that.
My oldest asks me sometimes why his father doesn't come see him. I don't want to lie to him, but I also don't want to build his father up to him. So, I say the only thing I can, walking that fine line between truth and deceit: I say his father has problems he has to work out. Which isn't really a lie, I suppose, because not loving your child is a problem in my book. But I feel bad telling my son that, because I feel as though I'm holding something back from him. And I don't like to be anything less than honest with him, not only because honesty is a value I hold as important, but also because considering how much his father lies, I feel as though I'm doing my son a disservice.
This is where the title of my post tonight comes into play. What is important to you? After the recent death, and seeing my friend last night, I've really been thinking about this today. What's really important to me? I've always known my kids were important to me, that they come first, but today I've realized just how important they are to me. I've realized that making sure they are healthy, cared for, and have the values, morals, education, and abilities required to take care of themselves as they grow are important. So, tonight, instead of making dinner while I help with homework, like I usually do, I sat down with my son and focused on helping him.
I've also realized that I need to stop worrying so much about my weight. I've been overweight since having my children, and I constantly diet to try to lose the weight, and worry about what people think, and wish I had the figure I had before I had kids. I've decided I can't do that anymore. I have to accept that I am who I am, and that I am beautiful just like I am. Instead of worrying about what I can eat that won't make me gain ten pounds, or when I will find time today to work out, I'm going to enjoy my time with my kids, or reading, or whatever I'm doing. I'm going to focus on the moment, like yoga teaches.
I do yoga and meditate daily. I'm going to start using my meditation to focus on what's really important in life.
Oh, and just to lighten the post up a bit....my kids aren't scared of anything. LOL They didn't get scared of anything in the haunted house, although Mommy and Granny got scared a couple of times. There's another haunted house in the neighbor hood that will be open on Saturday, cause she only does it on weekends. We'll see if they get scared there or not. :)
They had a great time, as did I. My parents went with us, and we saw a lot of friends. One of whom was the business partner/best friend of the friend who died over the weekend. It was good to see him there. It was the first time I'd seen him since the death, and so I went to give him a hug and let him know I was there for him. He hugged me tight and I could hear the tears in his voice as he spoke in my ear. This is not a man who cries easily. I brought my boys home, and by the time we got washed up and into bed, it was ten o'clock. They weren't asleep until eleven.
I was frustrated, because I wanted to shower and get to bed myself. I was verging on angry, because I was just so damn tired, and I'd had a long day that I wanted to be over. Just when I was ready to lose my temper, I heard the echo of my friends tear-choked voice in my ear. And I realized that life is too short to be upset over a little lost sleep. I reminded myself that I should just be grateful that my children are here to keep me awake. That extra hour of sleep really isn't that important when you think that you could lose your child, your parent, significant other, friend, in just the span of time it takes to have the thought that you want to get mad at them. And would you really want them to die with you being angry at them? I know I wouldn't.
With that said, there is someone that I am mad at, and pretty much always am. And it ties in with the theme of what's important, because I cannot fathom this. My former husband owes me several thousand dollars in child support, because he hasn't paid in a couple of years. I've taken him to court twice to have him held in contempt for this, and he's been to jail once for it. He's a convicted felon on probation, which means this could, feasibly, send him to prison, under the right circumstances. I've filed papers to take him in again. This will be contempt #3. Now, there's more than one reason I can't understand him. The most obvious is: self-preservation. Most people would pay the support to keep themselves out of trouble, if for no other reason. Yet he seems to not care about that, or he's too stupid to realize how much trouble this could be. Which is entirely possible, because he's one of those people who couldn't dump water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. But, let's set aside self-preservation. How could you help concieve two children, profess to love them, to want them, and then just completely and totally turn your back on them in every possible way? How could you walk away from your own flesh and blood without a single glance back, without a twinge of guilt, and not feel the slightest remorse, guilt, regret, doubt, concern, SOMETHING?! The thought of walking away from my children is something I would do about as soon as I would grab a butcher knife and cut my own heart out of my chest. I do not understand how someone can do that.
My oldest asks me sometimes why his father doesn't come see him. I don't want to lie to him, but I also don't want to build his father up to him. So, I say the only thing I can, walking that fine line between truth and deceit: I say his father has problems he has to work out. Which isn't really a lie, I suppose, because not loving your child is a problem in my book. But I feel bad telling my son that, because I feel as though I'm holding something back from him. And I don't like to be anything less than honest with him, not only because honesty is a value I hold as important, but also because considering how much his father lies, I feel as though I'm doing my son a disservice.
This is where the title of my post tonight comes into play. What is important to you? After the recent death, and seeing my friend last night, I've really been thinking about this today. What's really important to me? I've always known my kids were important to me, that they come first, but today I've realized just how important they are to me. I've realized that making sure they are healthy, cared for, and have the values, morals, education, and abilities required to take care of themselves as they grow are important. So, tonight, instead of making dinner while I help with homework, like I usually do, I sat down with my son and focused on helping him.
I've also realized that I need to stop worrying so much about my weight. I've been overweight since having my children, and I constantly diet to try to lose the weight, and worry about what people think, and wish I had the figure I had before I had kids. I've decided I can't do that anymore. I have to accept that I am who I am, and that I am beautiful just like I am. Instead of worrying about what I can eat that won't make me gain ten pounds, or when I will find time today to work out, I'm going to enjoy my time with my kids, or reading, or whatever I'm doing. I'm going to focus on the moment, like yoga teaches.
I do yoga and meditate daily. I'm going to start using my meditation to focus on what's really important in life.
Oh, and just to lighten the post up a bit....my kids aren't scared of anything. LOL They didn't get scared of anything in the haunted house, although Mommy and Granny got scared a couple of times. There's another haunted house in the neighbor hood that will be open on Saturday, cause she only does it on weekends. We'll see if they get scared there or not. :)
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Those left behind
Sometimes you come across a book that touches you and really makes you think instead of just entertaining you briefly. I just re-read such a book. The Snow Garden by Christopher Rice is a book....well, I'm going to give you my summary since the book has none that I've ever found. It's a book about a group of college students, all of whom have a tragic past that they are trying to escape, by creating themselves anew, some more than others. Randall Stone, who is running from the fact that he (possibly unintentionally) killed his entire town, is the most successful at doing so, although all of them, and even a professor, are all moderately successful at this task. The book follows them from when they start at the college, backtracking into their pasts to give you the story of why they are so desperate to escape who they are. It's a really good book.
As I read it, and after I finished it late this afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder, how many of us would really like to do this ourselves. I mean, I'll be the first to admit there are some things I'd like to outrun, change, erase, or whatever I could do to eliminate them from my history. But, given the actual opportunity, the chance, to really do it, would I? When I sit here right now, with it not being a true possibility, I can say yes, I would. But I also know that that's not a realistic answer, because I know I can't do it, so it's easy to say I would.
But, the weirdest thing about all this is that as I'm having these thoughts, I get a phone call. Someone that I've been acquainted with, and who's been a friend of my family for years, shot his girlfriend in the face and then killed himself last night. Her young son discovered her lying on the couch, injured but alive, and found his body. It seems so strange to have finished this book and now am trying to accept that someone I knew could do something like this. There is no explanation at this point for why he did it, although there will never be one to satisfy those left behind. What reason can you give for attempting to kill someone you love, and then killing yourself? What can you say that will ease the suffering and the grief that those who are left to pick up the pieces and carry on? As far as I've ever known, there is nothing.
But, at the same time, I'm also reminded of Stephen King's Lisey's Story, which is, to quote Nora Roberts, at its core, a love story. This book shows you the strange and twisted ways that people will sometimes show their love. We always think that people who abuse their children, kill their spouses, or kill themselves, obviously don't love those people. And while it will never make such tragedies right or acceptable, it does make you take a step back and think, "Wait a minute. What s/he did wasn't right. And obviously there was something wrong there. But maybe I shouldn't be so quick to say s/he didn't love them."
I say that because I know that in no time, there are going to be people who are going to say that he must not have loved her, or that he hated her, or what have you. And you know what, maybe they will be right. But, maybe, just maybe, they're not. Maybe he did love her. Maybe the problem did not lie in his feelings for her, but his feelings for himself, or some other situation. That doesn't make it right.
I'm not condoning what he did. I'm not saying he's right, or that what he did was acceptable, okay, or even understandable. I don't understand it. To be honest, I don't know that I want to understand it. That might require going somewhere in my mind that I don't want to go, somewhere where insanity and depravation lives in all of us. But what I am saying is that we should not judge him, should not be judge and jury in the trial of his life. Obviously, he made a mistake, and it's not one he can ever atone for or make right now. So maybe we should cut him some slack, and instead of passing judgment, think of those he left behind. Those, like the girlfriend he shot, who now has to forever wonder why he did this. Or her son, who will forever wake up from nightmares in which he continues to find his mother's bloody form on their couch. Or his best friend and business partner, who doesn't understand any of it, and just wants his best friend alive and well again. None of them want to hear anyone say how horrible a person he was, or how he didn't love whoever, or deserved what he got or any of the other millions of stupid, petty, judgmental comments we all make when we see these situations on the news and in the paper. Yes, I've done it too. But now that the news story exists outside the TV and the paper for me, I realize how wrong we all are to do that.
His friends and family will grieve for him. We will, because regardless of his reasons, he was a living man and he deserves to have someone grieve for him. But we will also grieve for the ones he left behind, the ones he left to try to pick up shattered pieces of life and try to glue them back together into some resemblance of what they used to be, even though it will never be the same. That gaping hole that was him will never be filled, and life will never be the same.
As I read it, and after I finished it late this afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder, how many of us would really like to do this ourselves. I mean, I'll be the first to admit there are some things I'd like to outrun, change, erase, or whatever I could do to eliminate them from my history. But, given the actual opportunity, the chance, to really do it, would I? When I sit here right now, with it not being a true possibility, I can say yes, I would. But I also know that that's not a realistic answer, because I know I can't do it, so it's easy to say I would.
But, the weirdest thing about all this is that as I'm having these thoughts, I get a phone call. Someone that I've been acquainted with, and who's been a friend of my family for years, shot his girlfriend in the face and then killed himself last night. Her young son discovered her lying on the couch, injured but alive, and found his body. It seems so strange to have finished this book and now am trying to accept that someone I knew could do something like this. There is no explanation at this point for why he did it, although there will never be one to satisfy those left behind. What reason can you give for attempting to kill someone you love, and then killing yourself? What can you say that will ease the suffering and the grief that those who are left to pick up the pieces and carry on? As far as I've ever known, there is nothing.
But, at the same time, I'm also reminded of Stephen King's Lisey's Story, which is, to quote Nora Roberts, at its core, a love story. This book shows you the strange and twisted ways that people will sometimes show their love. We always think that people who abuse their children, kill their spouses, or kill themselves, obviously don't love those people. And while it will never make such tragedies right or acceptable, it does make you take a step back and think, "Wait a minute. What s/he did wasn't right. And obviously there was something wrong there. But maybe I shouldn't be so quick to say s/he didn't love them."
I say that because I know that in no time, there are going to be people who are going to say that he must not have loved her, or that he hated her, or what have you. And you know what, maybe they will be right. But, maybe, just maybe, they're not. Maybe he did love her. Maybe the problem did not lie in his feelings for her, but his feelings for himself, or some other situation. That doesn't make it right.
I'm not condoning what he did. I'm not saying he's right, or that what he did was acceptable, okay, or even understandable. I don't understand it. To be honest, I don't know that I want to understand it. That might require going somewhere in my mind that I don't want to go, somewhere where insanity and depravation lives in all of us. But what I am saying is that we should not judge him, should not be judge and jury in the trial of his life. Obviously, he made a mistake, and it's not one he can ever atone for or make right now. So maybe we should cut him some slack, and instead of passing judgment, think of those he left behind. Those, like the girlfriend he shot, who now has to forever wonder why he did this. Or her son, who will forever wake up from nightmares in which he continues to find his mother's bloody form on their couch. Or his best friend and business partner, who doesn't understand any of it, and just wants his best friend alive and well again. None of them want to hear anyone say how horrible a person he was, or how he didn't love whoever, or deserved what he got or any of the other millions of stupid, petty, judgmental comments we all make when we see these situations on the news and in the paper. Yes, I've done it too. But now that the news story exists outside the TV and the paper for me, I realize how wrong we all are to do that.
His friends and family will grieve for him. We will, because regardless of his reasons, he was a living man and he deserves to have someone grieve for him. But we will also grieve for the ones he left behind, the ones he left to try to pick up shattered pieces of life and try to glue them back together into some resemblance of what they used to be, even though it will never be the same. That gaping hole that was him will never be filled, and life will never be the same.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Regret? Or just wishful thinking?
When I was 17, I worked as a cashier in a grocery store. I loved that job; and I was so good at it, too. Not that I'm not good at the much more complicated jobs I've had since then; it was just something to really be proud of at that time. But, that's not my point.
While working at this grocery store, I met a much older man. He was 24. He was sexy, funny, sweet, everything a girl could possibly look for in a man. But, of course, being 17, I was too stupid to realize the good thing I had, and so for the next few years, we had a yo-yo relationship: up and down, on and off, him waiting patiently for me to grow up, me wanting something more exciting, dramatic.
Well, end of that story is that I made a huge mistake, although in some ways I don't regret it. I met my ex-husband and got pregnant with my oldest child. The result was, well, of course, my child, but that I married my former jerk-I mean, spouse. I was adult enough to call and try to tell my wonderful guy how stupid I was and what I was doing. After that, I never spoke to him again.
I don't blame him for hating me, despising me, or anything else he may, and probably does, feel for me.
Here's my thing though: There's a lot of nights, I lie awake, wondering where he is, what he's doing, and if there were any possibility he might still love me, and if I found him, maybe we could have a chance.
Which is why I now wonder: Do I truly regret what happened, truly still love him and want another chance with him, or is it the wishful thinking of youth gone by? Is it what I really want, or do I only think I want it because it's not an option? I've looked for him, used every resource I can find that doesn't cost (because as a single mother, I can't afford it!), all to no avail. Which is another reason why I wonder. I mean, if I could have just dialed his number, and had him on the phone, would I still have this longing for him? Or is this a matter of wanting what I can't have?
I'd like to think it's real. I do think it's real. This was a man who meant a lot to me, even though I wouldn't admit it at first. My ex-husband was a mistake, and had I not met him and gotten pregnant, I believe this other guy and I would still be together, with a family of our own. Don't get me wrong: I'm not saying I want to go back and change things. In one sense, I would, because I would still have the other guy. But mostly, I have to say, as much as I regret the end of the relationship, I'd still do it, because it gave me my children. My children are my life, my world, my center. I can't say I would change or regret the situation that resulted in thier births.
I don't mean to sound mopey and depressed. It's just something that I think of quite frequently. I'm sure other people do something similar. I just wonder....are we all regretting what truly could have been, or are we regretting what we've convinced oureslves would have been?
While working at this grocery store, I met a much older man. He was 24. He was sexy, funny, sweet, everything a girl could possibly look for in a man. But, of course, being 17, I was too stupid to realize the good thing I had, and so for the next few years, we had a yo-yo relationship: up and down, on and off, him waiting patiently for me to grow up, me wanting something more exciting, dramatic.
Well, end of that story is that I made a huge mistake, although in some ways I don't regret it. I met my ex-husband and got pregnant with my oldest child. The result was, well, of course, my child, but that I married my former jerk-I mean, spouse. I was adult enough to call and try to tell my wonderful guy how stupid I was and what I was doing. After that, I never spoke to him again.
I don't blame him for hating me, despising me, or anything else he may, and probably does, feel for me.
Here's my thing though: There's a lot of nights, I lie awake, wondering where he is, what he's doing, and if there were any possibility he might still love me, and if I found him, maybe we could have a chance.
Which is why I now wonder: Do I truly regret what happened, truly still love him and want another chance with him, or is it the wishful thinking of youth gone by? Is it what I really want, or do I only think I want it because it's not an option? I've looked for him, used every resource I can find that doesn't cost (because as a single mother, I can't afford it!), all to no avail. Which is another reason why I wonder. I mean, if I could have just dialed his number, and had him on the phone, would I still have this longing for him? Or is this a matter of wanting what I can't have?
I'd like to think it's real. I do think it's real. This was a man who meant a lot to me, even though I wouldn't admit it at first. My ex-husband was a mistake, and had I not met him and gotten pregnant, I believe this other guy and I would still be together, with a family of our own. Don't get me wrong: I'm not saying I want to go back and change things. In one sense, I would, because I would still have the other guy. But mostly, I have to say, as much as I regret the end of the relationship, I'd still do it, because it gave me my children. My children are my life, my world, my center. I can't say I would change or regret the situation that resulted in thier births.
I don't mean to sound mopey and depressed. It's just something that I think of quite frequently. I'm sure other people do something similar. I just wonder....are we all regretting what truly could have been, or are we regretting what we've convinced oureslves would have been?
Monday, October 1, 2007
Innocence of an early Fall Day
My babysitter had a situation to deal with today that required her to close, therefore I had to stay at home with my 3 yr old. We left the house this am around 6:45 to drop my 6 yr old at school and then came back home. By 7:30am it was raining. Then it stopped, rained again around 10ish, and then cleared up. We hung out inside, though, cause it was just easier. At 1, we left to get my oldest. I have an attached garage, so I don't actually go outside until I step out of my car at my destination. Or, in a case like today, until I roll the window down at the mailbox.
When I pulled up at the mailbox in front of the house and put the window down, the first thing to hit me was the temperature: It was beautiful. Comfortable, warm but not hot, cool but not cold, just that perfect temperature that makes you wish for this moment to last forever.
The next thing to hit me was the smell. You know that smell you smell when fall is just beginning? It's that indescribable scent that you just associate with fall: crisp, good, cleansing. It's not one you can explain with words like "salty" "spicy" or anything like that. It's just that smell that seems to float it's way into your nose, clearing out pollution, allergies, stress, all of it. It seems almost to slide into your brain, massaging the tension of life away, for that one moment anyway. It's also a fleeting scent. You only smell it that one time, at the beginning of fall. Tomorrow, well tomorrow it's supposed to rain, but if it weren't, the smell still wouldn't be the same. That first time you smell it, you have to breathe deep, take it all in, savor it, enjoy it, revel in it, because the next time you try to find it, it will be gone.
It was so wonderful I took my kids out into the backyard after we got back from school. Homework was left on the table for later, dinner put in the freezer to be cooked whenever we got to it, and the phone left where it was. No one needed to interrupt my precious time with my babies. So, we went out back, laid on the ground, and found shapes in the clouds. I haven't done that in so many years...I don't even remember when the last time was. Just like riding a bike, it all came back instantly. I saw a sheep, a girl on a unicorn, a duck, a dog, and when my oldest saw a crocodile, it took me only a split second to see through his eyes and see it, too. At one moment, even with my sunglasses on, I found my thoughts turning to complaints about the sun being too bright. I mentally slapped the thought away. Children don't complain about that. They simply squint and enjoy the moment; so that is what I did. I'll have crow's feet for it; who cares? I got to be a kid again for just a few moments, and it was wonderful.
Tomorrow morning, the alarm will go off at 5:30, that ungodly hour of the day when it is still dark and quiet and I'm starting my day with dressing, making lunches, and deciding how to wear my hair for yet another day at a job I'm growing to dislike more and more by the day. At that time, the stress, worry, tension, responsibility, and aggravation of adulthood will rush back in. And at that time, I will welcome them with open arms, as they are my life now. But for this afternoon, for tonight, I'm simply a girl. I may be 28, but that doesn't mean I can't still be a girl every now and then. Yes, I helped with homework, cooked dinner and loaded the dishwasher. But you know what? None of that pushed me back up the ladder to adulthood. It probably would have if I'd let it; I didn't. Like I said, tomorrow morning is soon enough. Right now, as I sit here with my fingers flying over the keyboard as they have since high school, I am nothing more than a girl. Old sitcoms on TV, 80's music on the stereo, a good book at my side, it all combines to make me feel as though I've gone back to that simpler time. That time when bills and grocery shopping were someone else's responsibility, and all I had to do was eat, sleep, do homework, and hang out with my friends.
Friendships are harder to maintain now. Grocery shopping and bill paying take up the time that used to be spent with friends. Homework has been replaced with real work, although homework still comes into play when your little one struggles, or when you want to be sure they understand how important education is. Eating and sleeping become things to schedule instead of things to enjoy, and even those things you enjoy so much tend to feel like chores because you have to plan and plot to make time for them, much as you would plan doing the laundry or plot who will do the vacuuming today.
Even with all the responsibilty, the chores, the bills, and everything else; I think we all need to take some time every now and then to lay down in the back yard and see the shapes in the clouds. To smell that sweet, here-and-then-gone scent of fall in the air. To feel the balm of smooth temperatures flow like tender fingertips across your skin. Squint into the sun without complaint; you can buy some Olay later to cure the wrinkles. Laugh with your children. They'll be thrilled; and so will you, if you just let yourself. Don't let Life stop you from enjoying your life.
When I pulled up at the mailbox in front of the house and put the window down, the first thing to hit me was the temperature: It was beautiful. Comfortable, warm but not hot, cool but not cold, just that perfect temperature that makes you wish for this moment to last forever.
The next thing to hit me was the smell. You know that smell you smell when fall is just beginning? It's that indescribable scent that you just associate with fall: crisp, good, cleansing. It's not one you can explain with words like "salty" "spicy" or anything like that. It's just that smell that seems to float it's way into your nose, clearing out pollution, allergies, stress, all of it. It seems almost to slide into your brain, massaging the tension of life away, for that one moment anyway. It's also a fleeting scent. You only smell it that one time, at the beginning of fall. Tomorrow, well tomorrow it's supposed to rain, but if it weren't, the smell still wouldn't be the same. That first time you smell it, you have to breathe deep, take it all in, savor it, enjoy it, revel in it, because the next time you try to find it, it will be gone.
It was so wonderful I took my kids out into the backyard after we got back from school. Homework was left on the table for later, dinner put in the freezer to be cooked whenever we got to it, and the phone left where it was. No one needed to interrupt my precious time with my babies. So, we went out back, laid on the ground, and found shapes in the clouds. I haven't done that in so many years...I don't even remember when the last time was. Just like riding a bike, it all came back instantly. I saw a sheep, a girl on a unicorn, a duck, a dog, and when my oldest saw a crocodile, it took me only a split second to see through his eyes and see it, too. At one moment, even with my sunglasses on, I found my thoughts turning to complaints about the sun being too bright. I mentally slapped the thought away. Children don't complain about that. They simply squint and enjoy the moment; so that is what I did. I'll have crow's feet for it; who cares? I got to be a kid again for just a few moments, and it was wonderful.
Tomorrow morning, the alarm will go off at 5:30, that ungodly hour of the day when it is still dark and quiet and I'm starting my day with dressing, making lunches, and deciding how to wear my hair for yet another day at a job I'm growing to dislike more and more by the day. At that time, the stress, worry, tension, responsibility, and aggravation of adulthood will rush back in. And at that time, I will welcome them with open arms, as they are my life now. But for this afternoon, for tonight, I'm simply a girl. I may be 28, but that doesn't mean I can't still be a girl every now and then. Yes, I helped with homework, cooked dinner and loaded the dishwasher. But you know what? None of that pushed me back up the ladder to adulthood. It probably would have if I'd let it; I didn't. Like I said, tomorrow morning is soon enough. Right now, as I sit here with my fingers flying over the keyboard as they have since high school, I am nothing more than a girl. Old sitcoms on TV, 80's music on the stereo, a good book at my side, it all combines to make me feel as though I've gone back to that simpler time. That time when bills and grocery shopping were someone else's responsibility, and all I had to do was eat, sleep, do homework, and hang out with my friends.
Friendships are harder to maintain now. Grocery shopping and bill paying take up the time that used to be spent with friends. Homework has been replaced with real work, although homework still comes into play when your little one struggles, or when you want to be sure they understand how important education is. Eating and sleeping become things to schedule instead of things to enjoy, and even those things you enjoy so much tend to feel like chores because you have to plan and plot to make time for them, much as you would plan doing the laundry or plot who will do the vacuuming today.
Even with all the responsibilty, the chores, the bills, and everything else; I think we all need to take some time every now and then to lay down in the back yard and see the shapes in the clouds. To smell that sweet, here-and-then-gone scent of fall in the air. To feel the balm of smooth temperatures flow like tender fingertips across your skin. Squint into the sun without complaint; you can buy some Olay later to cure the wrinkles. Laugh with your children. They'll be thrilled; and so will you, if you just let yourself. Don't let Life stop you from enjoying your life.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
The Vulnerability of Love
Anyone who's ever been in love knows just how vulnerable it makes you. Not just romantic love, any love. Love that's true, deep, intense, and real makes you vulnerable like nothing else in life can. Your heart is on display, outside a protective glass box. Anyone can throw a dart and pierce it so easily, when you love someone.
I've loved many people in my life. The obvious ones: parents, grandparents, blah blah blah. And I do love those people dearly. This is where one aspect of the vulnerability appears. My great-grandmother, a woman I truly love dearly, is 97 years old. She has breast cancer, and at her age, there is nothing that they can do that would serve any real purpose to help her. I'm 28 years old. I've lost other family, I've lost friends, to death in various forms, including to breast cancer. But this love that I feel for this woman, this love makes me nothing more than a child. I've accepted that she will die, I have for many years. I'm not living in a fantasy world, I know that eventually, all those that I love will die...that's life. But accepting an abstract concept of reality, and facing the rather immediate reality of that same abstract concept are two very different things. Now that I'm faced with the fact that she will be gone from my life soon, I find it difficult to face. My heart hurts, my eyes well with tears and my brain just can't wrap itself around the concept. Every time I talk to someone about her, we do the usual "How's Grandma?" "The same" or "Getting worse". The answers are what I expect yes, but not what I hope to hear. I still, childishly, pathetically, ridiculously, hope to hear someone say that her cancer has miraculously cured itself. I've never wished so hard for a cure for cancer than I have now.
She's not the only one I love though. I love my children even more desperately than my great-grandmother, my parents, myself. They are the beings that truly put my heart in the middle of the street for the world to run over. I would die for my children without hesitation. I would die for them on the hint of there being the need for me to do so. I want everything for them: all the things they need, the things they want, a bright future with a good job, nice home, loving wife and incredible children. I want to be able to simply hand them all these things, even though I know the only way they'll appreciate them is if they work for and earn them. Still....a mother wants to provide. That's our job. It's in the manual.
But romantic love...that's a funny one. We claim to love unconditionally. I've noticed, this unconditional part...seems to really only apply fully to those we have no choice but to love: children, parents, siblings, other family. Unconditional love when it comes to boy/girlfriends, spouses, and the like only applies when they do what we want and don't hurt our feelings. Think about it: When someone cheats, betrays your trust in someway, or does something we find morally reprehensible, suddenly we don't love them anymore. Or claim we don't, at any rate. What's up with that?
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not judging anyone for that feeling. I've done it. When my former husband cheated on me, generally the first words out of my mouth ran something along the lines of "I hate you!" or "I don't love you anymore!" Of course, in the end, those quickly spouted phrases turned out to be fateful prophecies of our future, but that's not my point. My point is, why do we claim to love someone unconditionally when, in reality, we place many conditions on them? For those of you who are sitting there right now, saying, "Hey! I've never placed conditions on my boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/person I'm seeing/insert your situation here", let me ask you these questions:
1. Do you expect him/her to be faithful?
2. Expect him/her to be honest, not lie to you?
3. Expect him/her to live without breaking the law?
4. I bet you expect him/her to work at a decent job, to want the same things you want, to have similar interests, right?
Well, look at that, there's 4 conditions right there that you place on your love, your lover, and your relationship. See? Now, don't misunderstand; again, I'm not judging. I have those conditions, too. My point is why do we want to be crow about unconditional love and such when really, we only love under certain, rather rigid circumstances?
I've had many loves in my life, some great. My ex-husband does not fall under the category of "great". In total brutal honesty, he really doesn't fall under the "love" category much at all...but that's a blog for another time.
One of my great loves was a boy I met at the very tender age of 13. He was a sweetie of a boy, and we were together for 5 years, until I was 18 and we went our separate ways. He was also the first boy I was...intimate with, hence his status as a great love. Sweet boy, and I truly, without a doubt, loved him. We just wanted different things and got to different stages in our lives, and it couldn't work anymore. We both felt bad, but we ended things amicably. I truly hope he's found happiness in his life and is with a woman who loves and appreciates all his wonderful qualities.
Another great love was a man I met when I was 18. He was my best friend for several years after we broke up. Part of why he was a great love. We loved each other even after we broke up. We looked out for each other, kept each other sane and from making huge mistakes with dating. We talked about everything. He was the first person outside my family to find out I was pregnant. He was so excited for me. Unfortunately, our friendship ended when our respective spouses found out that our very solid friendship started out with us dating and sleeping together. They were not happy, and both insisted we end the friendship. Although it was painful, we did what we felt we needed to do out of respect for our spouses. They deserved to know they could trust us, and we both could see how they might feel they couldn't in those circumstances.
The greatest love of my life, though, was a indeed a very tragic story. OK, not really, but it really does kind of suck. He's a sweet, really incredible guy I met when I was 19, and we've been friends for all these years, with an on-off relationship. Yes, it was off during the years of my marriage. We love (yes, I used present tense) each other so much it's just unbelievable. But, we want such different things in our lives, and can't seem to compromise. This is a man that I feel so safe, so secure with, that I felt comfortable telling him things about my marriage that I never even told my parents. He has truly, even more so than the other, been my best friend. He listens, makes me laugh, makes me feel sexy and beautiful and loved. But we're just so different. I live in a small town and love it; he wants to be in the big city. I love my children and have them with me 24/7; he loves his son, I know, but he doesn't have anything to do with him except to pay child support and ensure that his son is taken care of should something happen to him. He says he's doing that because he loves his son and he believes it's best, but I don't agree. I don't fault him; I just have a different opinion, and this is a bone of contention between us. It's very disconcerting to love someone, and yet you still can't make the damn relationship work. It also makes it hard to stay friends. That whole thing about once you say I love you, the friendship never stays the same, is very, very true. Our friendship has never been the same since we took that destined step.
Which brings me to my point...I think. Love makes us so vulnerable; puts us in a position of insecurity, doubt, and reservation, and yet at the same time makes us more powerful, safe, secure, and happy than anything else. It can hurt, and end badly, and yet we still search for it, seek it out endlessly, hoping for that happy finale. Why? Is it because we enjoy being vulnerable, being open to hurt and pain? Or is because we are so desperate to have that happy power, that security that we'll continue to risk the hurt and pain until we find it? I'd like to think it's the latter, but some of the relationships and couples I've seen make me think the former might really be the truth.
And while I'm on the subject, let's talk about the other love: who the hell is anyone to say someone is wrong for who they love? I get so sick of people who want to criticize gay and lesbian couples, and deny them the same rights as any straight person. I happen to have a very close family member who is gay, and I see no reason why he should be treated any differently. What the hell difference does it make if he loves a man instead of a woman? If he's happy, and the man he's with loves him and treats him with respect, love, and dignity, what the f*ck is the difference? I hear people say that allowing gay marriage will undermine marriage between a man and a woman. Can I tell you a secret? I was married to a man, and let me tell you, he undermined our marriage all on his own. The two lesbians five houses down or the gay guys three miles north of us didn't have a damn thing to do with it. I say if someone makes you happy, then it doesn't matter what their gender is, they make you happy. Life is too short to try to conform. Take your happiness, and your love, where you can find it. A lot of the time, love only happens once. Why on earth would you want to pass it up just in case there's something more "acceptable" and "normal" down the road? Who defines "normal"? Certainly no one I want defining it.
It's late, and I have work tomorrow. I think I'm off to bed, to dream of being vulnerable in love once more. And to contemplate once again just what lengths I would go to for love of my children and others that I love.
I've loved many people in my life. The obvious ones: parents, grandparents, blah blah blah. And I do love those people dearly. This is where one aspect of the vulnerability appears. My great-grandmother, a woman I truly love dearly, is 97 years old. She has breast cancer, and at her age, there is nothing that they can do that would serve any real purpose to help her. I'm 28 years old. I've lost other family, I've lost friends, to death in various forms, including to breast cancer. But this love that I feel for this woman, this love makes me nothing more than a child. I've accepted that she will die, I have for many years. I'm not living in a fantasy world, I know that eventually, all those that I love will die...that's life. But accepting an abstract concept of reality, and facing the rather immediate reality of that same abstract concept are two very different things. Now that I'm faced with the fact that she will be gone from my life soon, I find it difficult to face. My heart hurts, my eyes well with tears and my brain just can't wrap itself around the concept. Every time I talk to someone about her, we do the usual "How's Grandma?" "The same" or "Getting worse". The answers are what I expect yes, but not what I hope to hear. I still, childishly, pathetically, ridiculously, hope to hear someone say that her cancer has miraculously cured itself. I've never wished so hard for a cure for cancer than I have now.
She's not the only one I love though. I love my children even more desperately than my great-grandmother, my parents, myself. They are the beings that truly put my heart in the middle of the street for the world to run over. I would die for my children without hesitation. I would die for them on the hint of there being the need for me to do so. I want everything for them: all the things they need, the things they want, a bright future with a good job, nice home, loving wife and incredible children. I want to be able to simply hand them all these things, even though I know the only way they'll appreciate them is if they work for and earn them. Still....a mother wants to provide. That's our job. It's in the manual.
But romantic love...that's a funny one. We claim to love unconditionally. I've noticed, this unconditional part...seems to really only apply fully to those we have no choice but to love: children, parents, siblings, other family. Unconditional love when it comes to boy/girlfriends, spouses, and the like only applies when they do what we want and don't hurt our feelings. Think about it: When someone cheats, betrays your trust in someway, or does something we find morally reprehensible, suddenly we don't love them anymore. Or claim we don't, at any rate. What's up with that?
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not judging anyone for that feeling. I've done it. When my former husband cheated on me, generally the first words out of my mouth ran something along the lines of "I hate you!" or "I don't love you anymore!" Of course, in the end, those quickly spouted phrases turned out to be fateful prophecies of our future, but that's not my point. My point is, why do we claim to love someone unconditionally when, in reality, we place many conditions on them? For those of you who are sitting there right now, saying, "Hey! I've never placed conditions on my boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/person I'm seeing/insert your situation here", let me ask you these questions:
1. Do you expect him/her to be faithful?
2. Expect him/her to be honest, not lie to you?
3. Expect him/her to live without breaking the law?
4. I bet you expect him/her to work at a decent job, to want the same things you want, to have similar interests, right?
Well, look at that, there's 4 conditions right there that you place on your love, your lover, and your relationship. See? Now, don't misunderstand; again, I'm not judging. I have those conditions, too. My point is why do we want to be crow about unconditional love and such when really, we only love under certain, rather rigid circumstances?
I've had many loves in my life, some great. My ex-husband does not fall under the category of "great". In total brutal honesty, he really doesn't fall under the "love" category much at all...but that's a blog for another time.
One of my great loves was a boy I met at the very tender age of 13. He was a sweetie of a boy, and we were together for 5 years, until I was 18 and we went our separate ways. He was also the first boy I was...intimate with, hence his status as a great love. Sweet boy, and I truly, without a doubt, loved him. We just wanted different things and got to different stages in our lives, and it couldn't work anymore. We both felt bad, but we ended things amicably. I truly hope he's found happiness in his life and is with a woman who loves and appreciates all his wonderful qualities.
Another great love was a man I met when I was 18. He was my best friend for several years after we broke up. Part of why he was a great love. We loved each other even after we broke up. We looked out for each other, kept each other sane and from making huge mistakes with dating. We talked about everything. He was the first person outside my family to find out I was pregnant. He was so excited for me. Unfortunately, our friendship ended when our respective spouses found out that our very solid friendship started out with us dating and sleeping together. They were not happy, and both insisted we end the friendship. Although it was painful, we did what we felt we needed to do out of respect for our spouses. They deserved to know they could trust us, and we both could see how they might feel they couldn't in those circumstances.
The greatest love of my life, though, was a indeed a very tragic story. OK, not really, but it really does kind of suck. He's a sweet, really incredible guy I met when I was 19, and we've been friends for all these years, with an on-off relationship. Yes, it was off during the years of my marriage. We love (yes, I used present tense) each other so much it's just unbelievable. But, we want such different things in our lives, and can't seem to compromise. This is a man that I feel so safe, so secure with, that I felt comfortable telling him things about my marriage that I never even told my parents. He has truly, even more so than the other, been my best friend. He listens, makes me laugh, makes me feel sexy and beautiful and loved. But we're just so different. I live in a small town and love it; he wants to be in the big city. I love my children and have them with me 24/7; he loves his son, I know, but he doesn't have anything to do with him except to pay child support and ensure that his son is taken care of should something happen to him. He says he's doing that because he loves his son and he believes it's best, but I don't agree. I don't fault him; I just have a different opinion, and this is a bone of contention between us. It's very disconcerting to love someone, and yet you still can't make the damn relationship work. It also makes it hard to stay friends. That whole thing about once you say I love you, the friendship never stays the same, is very, very true. Our friendship has never been the same since we took that destined step.
Which brings me to my point...I think. Love makes us so vulnerable; puts us in a position of insecurity, doubt, and reservation, and yet at the same time makes us more powerful, safe, secure, and happy than anything else. It can hurt, and end badly, and yet we still search for it, seek it out endlessly, hoping for that happy finale. Why? Is it because we enjoy being vulnerable, being open to hurt and pain? Or is because we are so desperate to have that happy power, that security that we'll continue to risk the hurt and pain until we find it? I'd like to think it's the latter, but some of the relationships and couples I've seen make me think the former might really be the truth.
And while I'm on the subject, let's talk about the other love: who the hell is anyone to say someone is wrong for who they love? I get so sick of people who want to criticize gay and lesbian couples, and deny them the same rights as any straight person. I happen to have a very close family member who is gay, and I see no reason why he should be treated any differently. What the hell difference does it make if he loves a man instead of a woman? If he's happy, and the man he's with loves him and treats him with respect, love, and dignity, what the f*ck is the difference? I hear people say that allowing gay marriage will undermine marriage between a man and a woman. Can I tell you a secret? I was married to a man, and let me tell you, he undermined our marriage all on his own. The two lesbians five houses down or the gay guys three miles north of us didn't have a damn thing to do with it. I say if someone makes you happy, then it doesn't matter what their gender is, they make you happy. Life is too short to try to conform. Take your happiness, and your love, where you can find it. A lot of the time, love only happens once. Why on earth would you want to pass it up just in case there's something more "acceptable" and "normal" down the road? Who defines "normal"? Certainly no one I want defining it.
It's late, and I have work tomorrow. I think I'm off to bed, to dream of being vulnerable in love once more. And to contemplate once again just what lengths I would go to for love of my children and others that I love.
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