Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Until next time.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Until next time.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
This photo of my Pa-paw was taken sometime in the 80's before he passsed away.
Until next time.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
I was about six, maybe seven years old when this photo was taken.
Life was so much simpler then. I thought that Frankie was going to be around forever. I never thought that we would lose contact with each other. In life's busy day to day happenings, I don't always have time to reflect on how I feel about things from the past. Things I would like to change about the present. What do I want my future. Am I going to be able to pull it off and make my future what I want it to be?
I wonder if he thinks about me like I think about him sometimes? I miss him. Frankie, where ever you are, I still love you. I know we will talk again someday.
Until next time...
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Until next time.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Ok, so on to what I wanted to say. When I took M for his check up this last time, we got there early in the morning and he got the x-ray and ct scan and then we went upstairs for our appointment with the doctor. Well, we were kinda really early, so we had to wait for the doctors to even get there. No problem, we played a game and he played the Playstation there and I read some of my homework that I needed to get done anyway. Well, as we are sitting there, other kids start to get there for their appointments, and we are waiting. So, this family comes in with their little boy and he had to have been about the same age as M. And this boy was so sick, he was so skinny, and he just laid on the couch on his mom's lap while they were waiting. I kept looking at them, and it was so sad and I felt so bad for them, and the only thing that I could think was thank God that's not my kid. Thank you God, that is not M. I felt terrible for thinking that and I am still feeling bad about thinking that, because that could have easily been my kid. The tumor that M had was cancer, they are still watching him for cancer, but he's ok. Thank God he's ok. I did not talk to these people, but I felt so bad, for the fact that their boy was obviously very sick and also for the fact that I thought to myself thank God that's not my kid. It was humbling. I mean I know that could have been my kid, but we were blessed that he's fine. I left there with a better appreciation for my kids, even though they make me crazy and get on my nerves, that could have been my kid. And I'm so grateful that it's not. When we left there, I took some extra time alone with M before I had to pick up my 4 year old from daycare. We had a good time and spent some time just the two of us, which rarely happens. Does it make me a bad person because I was glad that was not my kid? I feel bad that was what I thought.
Should I have spoke to them? I really don't know why I didn't, but I almost started crying in the waiting room looking at them, and may have started crying if I did talk to them. And I have not actually spoke those words out loud, because I feel terrible for having that thought. I just don't know, maybe it was some sort of sign for me to calm down and enjoy my kids more. I mean I have been in that waiting room and have seen sick kids there before and never thought like that before. I just had to get it off my chest, without actually saying it out loud.
**I made a post about this at the Moms group that I subscribe to in June when we had the appointment. I just thought that I should add that here to this post.**
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
So, we would talk when we were working together. If he was working in the same apartment when I was leaving, he would help me carry out all my stuff for the kids. L was still in an infant car seat at the time, so, on occasion, he carried out one of the kids. He would give L back his bottle while I was working. He really was a nice guy, but I did not think about him when I left work. About two months after he stared working there, one day, he asked me, "Do you date?" I replied, "No, I have three kids, I don't have time to date. Why?" "Oh, I was just wondering." I went home and thought about him a lot that day. He is a nice guy, but I have a bitter feeling about men and with good reason. A couple weeks later, he asks, "So, do you think you might like to date?" "Look, if you have some sort of personal problems, are an alcoholic, crack head, I'm really not interested! If not, then I'll think about it." "Well, I'm not an alcoholic, not a crack head, no problems here. I thought the art museum might me nice." "You do realize that D and M go with their Dad half the time, but L is always with me." "That's no problem, we can take him with. I'll carry him in the back carrier." "Are you sure?" "Yeah."
So, that was our first date, when he came to pick me up, he brought a lighthouse lantern and some flowers with a bunny on the vase. He calls me Bunny to this day. (Somewhere in talking at work, he picked up that I liked lighthouses, although I do not remember telling him, he remembered.) We did not end up taking L, his Godparents kept him while we were gone. He took me to the art museum. We walked around there for a few hours. When we left there, he took me out to dinner at my favorite restaurant, Olive Garden (also picked up in conversation at work, although I did not remember mentioning it.) We had dinner, a couple drinks, and then we went to pick up L and he took us home. We talked at my house for hours, until about 3am. And we both had to work the next day. It was nice. I was not used to someone being nice to me. And I had been given flowers for years, literally. When he left, he kissed me lightly on the cheek. He came to my house for dinner two days later for his birthday. I have to say that after a little drama in the beginning, we have been together ever since. It's been a little over four years now.
Until next time.
In 2002, I filed for divorce from S. This did not come as an easy decision but one that I felt was best for my boys and myself included. I do not know if this was the right thing, but I could not watch my kids growing up in such a toxic home environment. We were fighting regularly and the bickering never ended. It was not how I wanted my kids to grow up. I did not want them to think that was how a marriage was supposed to be and I did not want them to grow up to fight with their spouse like we were fighting in front of them.
In 2003, in the middle of my divorce and custody fight, I was unexpectedly pregnant. Not a very opportune time to get pregnant, but I did nonetheless. The father, well let's just say that he was not the best candidate for fatherhood and by my choice, has not been involved. It really is for the best. My 3rd son, L was born in 2004. I was twenty-nine years old. This was a very difficult time in my life. I was getting divorced, I had three children and I was emotionally a wreck. My divorce went on for three long years, not ending until 2005. I was married a total of ten years and was with S for 14 years. I did not know what to do with myself. I had been a wife and mother for most of my adult life and now I did not know what to do. I was a stay at home mother the whole time I was married, and now, I had to work to support myself and the boys. Did I mention that even though S makes a ridiculous amount of money that he was not ordered by the court to pay child support because we share joint physical and legal custody? It's true, no child support, but I am managing and it is rewarding to say that I am doing it on my own. So, I started working in 2003 cleaning empty apartments before new tenants moved in. The pay was not good, but I was able to make my own hours and take the children with me when I needed to. I did this throughout my pregnancy and after L was born. I had L on a Saturday and was back to work on Monday! Crazy, I know.
I worked for a well known donut shop for a couple years. Currently, I am working at a Bed & Breakfast and I also work part-time as the secretary for an auto salvage yard.
So, presently, I am working two jobs for little pay, going to school full-time online, care for an elderly lady, and have three kids. I feel most days like crawling back into bed and covering my head. I am hoping that all the hard work pays off, I complete my degree (I have two years left), get a job that pays way more than I make now, and am able to afford a house on my own. Currently I rent a small apartment in a small town. I want to stay in the small town. Also, I am in a relationship with a good man. We have been together for four years now. I met him when L was for months old. We have been together since. But that is for another post.
So this concludes the watered down version of how I got to today and my future posts will involve my present life with the boys and my relationship with B. And whatever else comes up along the way.
Until next time.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
In 1995, I got married my High School sweetheart, S, at the age of nineteen. We had a turbulent relationship long before we were married, but I ignored the many signs and married anyway thinking things would be better. I learned I was pregnant with my first child roughly a month after we were married. We were happy, but the arguing never did stop. Mostly it was that we were immature and were too young to be starting a family, but there we were. In 1996, I gave birth to my son, D, at the age of twenty. After having a baby, my husband became less important to me, as the baby came first in everything. I was the mom that would never leave the baby with anyone, EVER. Looking back, I can't say that this helped my marriage any, but at the time, I did not realize that it was ok to be more than a mom after I had kids. Of course, this was triggered by long term issues that I have with my own mother.
In 1998, I became pregnant with my second son, M, despite the fact that we did not get along, we were happy to be having another baby. I looked at this as a way to start fresh. We were trying to work on our marriage, I had started taking college classes part-time in the evening after S got home from work (which I later dropped), and I was optimistic about the future. We were going to be this happy family that I wanted so badly. I don't know what I was thinking, because we fought too much. I was more focused on my children and keeping my house clean than I was on my marriage. S pushed me around and lost his temper more often than not, I started to resent him more and more, I got angry at every little thing, stupid things, I realize now, but at the time it seemed they were not stupid.
Saying that my marriage was turbulent does not quite describe things, but that is the best description I can think of right now. We had really big blowups, things would calm down a bit,and then go back to how they were before. There was the everyday bickering that just became the norm in our house. I would be pissed off that he dirtied too many dishes! He did not help clean around the house, he did not help with the kids enough when he was home, he wanted to go out with his friends all hours of the night and I was always at home with the kids (mostly because I did not want to leave them with anyone) but I did not want him to go out either. He complained that I never wanted to leave the kids, he felt he did his part by going to work for eight hours, the kids were my job! Let's just leave it as we just could not get along and we each blamed the other for all the problems in our marriage. It couldn't be my fault! And naturally, he felt it could not be him. Of course hindsight is 20/20, and I realize now that it was both of us and we really needed to acknowledge that, but that's not how things went.
My biological father, C, was not in the picture when I was growing up and I have always had many different emotions regarding this through the years as I was growing up and even still to this day at 33 years old, it still bothers me that he was never there. He just was not there. He would show up about every five or six years and oh, he loved me, and he wanted to be my Dad, and then he would say, "I'll be back to see you next weekend." Next weekend would not come for another five or six years later. I would always be waiting the next weekend and he would never be there. I can not describe how that felt as a kid to be waiting for him and he would never come. My mother would always use him as a threat when I was younger, "Well, if you don't like it here, then I'll just call C and you can go live with him. See how he takes care of you!" Of course she would never just send me off with him, but somehow she thought that would be a good arguing tool when I was being defiant as a kid or later as a teenager. Don't get me wrong, I have a Dad, he's just not my biological father which is fine. I love my Dad. My Mom married my Dad when I was ten years old. He really is a good man. He was pretty much right out of High School, met my Mom, she already had two kids and he was right there. He never treated me like I was not his kid, even though I gave him so much crap in the beginning. Even after my younger brother and sister were born, he never treated me like I was not his kid. In fact, he cried more at my wedding than my mother. So even though C was never around, I always had a Dad and he's a good Dad, it still bothered me that C was never there.
Ok, moving forward, in 2000, I get a phone call from my mother that C is in the hospital and he is dying from lung cancer and now he wants to see me! Are you kidding me?? After all this time and he wants to see me because he is dying! The last time I saw him, I was fifteen years old and that was ten years ago, and like all the times before that, he had said, "I'll be back to see you next weekend," and he never showed up but I knew he would not come. And now he wants to see me because he is dying! At first, I said I was not going to go. I was married with my own family, my mother could not make me go. I had agonized over this and cried about this the entire day, and then my Dad called me, he said that he knew he was my Dad and that I loved him, but I had to go see C, so that I did not feel bad when he died. He told me it was ok to go, that he wanted me to go for me. After I argued with S about my decision to go, I went to see C at the hospital. It turned out that he had been living thirty minutes from my house with his wife and step daughters and the grandchildren. He never even tried to contact me. He knew that I was married, because my mother had sent him an invitation. He never showed up, never called, never sent a card, but he knew. And he was living thirty minutes away and never once tried to contact me. That was like a slap in the face, but I went to see him. I came right out and told him I was not there to ease his conscious, I was there so I did not feel bad when he died! I said those exact words to him. I cried, he cried, his wife cried. We talked into the wee hours of the morning.
I continued to go see C for thirteen days until he died at 8:54 in the morning on June 12, 2000. I can not tell you what that experience was like for me. I had struggled with my feelings about him my whole life and finally had the opportunity to talk to him and see who he was and he died. It was hard for me. Here he was never around for me and then when he was dying, I was there and helped to care for him in his final days. I think that by me being there it did somehow ease his conscious and give him a little peace in his heart. For that, I am glad. I'm glad that I did have that time to talk with him and learn a few things that my mother had left out all those years. After having many conversations with him, I think that my life was better because he was not a part of it. It does not make me feel any better, but I know in my heart that I was a better person because he was not in my life. Really, I do not think that he was a good man. He was dishonest. He hurt people that trusted him and inevitably, that would have been me as well, had he been around. I'm sure I did the right thing by going to see him, it gave me some sort of closure. I remember sitting at the church during his funeral service and the only thing I could think was that I would never see him again. All those years that he never showed up, I always thought, well, I'll see him again sometime, and this time I would not see him again. I still have a hard time with it sometimes. I can not explain why, because really, I did not know him. Before going to see him at the hospital, I could have passed him on the street and not recognised him. But there is still a feeling of loss there. I don't know if it will ever go away.
I bring up the subject of C, because this effected my marriage as well. Clearly, I was very distraught during this time and needed my husband to be there emotionally for me. That was not the case. S thought that by giving me a hard time about going to see him, it was helping me. He thought that because C was never there for me, I had no business going there now that he was dying. Obviously, I did not see things that way, and I still do not. I never thought that this was his call to make. He did not have to live with the emotional consequences if I did not go. All I wanted was some sort of support, I needed some sort of support and I couldn't get that from my husband. The one person who was supposed to be there for me. S gave me a hard time about going. For the thirteen days, he belittled me, yelled about me leaving after he got off work, and he had to care for the kids. I never have been able to understand this. I had dinner ready before he got home from work, I had the kids fed and bathed before he got home from work, all he had to do was brush their teeth and put them to bed. Not once did my husband offer a kind word. No understanding, no nothing! For thirteen days, I cried most of the time that I was finally talking with C and learning who he was. I cried every day for what was supposed to be, what should have been, and what was not. And not one time did S ever come up to me and even hug me, he did not say it will be ok, he offered no support whatsoever. Nothing. From my husband. This hurt and troubled me deeply. When C died, I went to the funeral alone. S's Mom watched the boys and I went alone. My husband did not go with me, he did not even mention it when I got home. I harboured ill feelings for him immensely after that. I know I should not, but I still feel angry about it.
Right now, I have to take a break from all the memories.
To be continued......
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Monday, July 7, 2008
Until next time.