truth be told…

I am truly beginning to be lieve that I was born to a traveling circus family and that the family that raised me simply thought I was cute, so they played the coin toss game until they won me.

there is no way I am born to the sheer drama that invades every part of my life.  I swear to all that I find holy, that I have to have a drama magnet surgically implanted in my body.  (And my dad thought it was a bum magnet!  pfftp!!!)  If someone, ANYONE has drama, it finds it way to my doorstep for dinner, a shower and a good nights sleep…

I am hanging a “No Vacancy” sign on my ass.  Maybe one from my forehead too, so you can see it coming and going.  Just to get the point across.

The Drama Inn is now closed.  Take your bullshit and unncessary hand wringing, head spinning drama and go elsewhere.

I have given up on caring about the stupid things in other people’s lives.  CONSIDERING they obviously care so little about me, respecting me, honoring our friendships, our familial ties, or common bonds.

I am going to teach myself to look out for myself, simply because there are MANY in my orbit, that seem to look out for noone other than themselves and I can’t deal with selfish folks anymore.

That was my New Year’s Resolution.  To put me first.  I did for about a week…then the mutts came back…

I feel like I should be on mood altering medication.  That I need to be on something to stabilize me.  My ups and downs happen in the same days sometimes and it’s wearing me out.  I have in the past taken medicine to help with the crazies, through my separation and divorce, and truth be told, if I hadn’t had Lexapro in my corner, my kids may have tied me up and put me in a closet. 

I am “better” now, I can see that things seem out of my control.  I can see however, that it’s my anger, my hurt and my low tolerance for all things drama that have me here.

It is exhausting and I feel like most days, I am on the crazy train and everyone around me is normal….I am the crazy one thinking I am normal, they are crazy.  I have asked this question of friends, the whole “Am I the crazy one?  Am I the one who is nuts and can’t see it?” 

I have been assured that it’s not me.  Which may either mean my friends are scared to tell me the truth or they are just as crazy as I am.

eh, whichever.  it works.

I am angry that I am not of a family that the bonds go deep.  There are three women left in my family and we will tear at each other and blame each other and cast aspersions upon each other with great regulatrity. 

Truth be told, I am pea green with jealousy of those who have close relationships with their  families based on mutual trust, respect and love.  I am jealous of those who WANT to be silly and have those moments…you know…those “candid camera moments” where everyone looks happy to be related and to be together…

I know we love each other but any semblance of trust and respect went out the door years ago.  Which is so very sad to know…even sadder to actually own up to it in writing.

I am angry that I can’t let go of the anger.  That it’s beginning to define me.  As hard as I try to rise above the BS that is associated with being one of the Three Stooges, I can’t for very long. 

Even now, as I am typing this, I keep going back, editing, removing things, because if I say the wrong thing or “out” anyone specific, all hell will break loose and it will be my fault because folks around me can’t act right.  Because to own their part, to apologize and TRULY move beyond it, would mean to GROW UP and who really wants to do that anyways?

I do!

Truth be told, I have “friends” in my life that I am probably better off without as well.  “Friends” that will proclaim that they support me, they will be there for me, no matter what, then they forget my birthday.  Or my favorite….send me a Happy Birthday on Facebook.  Because that’s personal….because that took you all of 20 seconds and everyone else thinks your great…however, I got a Facebook Happy Birthday and wasn’t even worth the effort of a phone call.

“Friends” who call me when they need to vent, when they need $20 bucks (or more…), when they need an “alibi” for their indescretion.  Yeah, “friends”.  These are the same people who when they do call, don’t remember I have kids or that I have moved…yeah, those friends.

Explain to me why I keep putting energy into people who don’t do the same for me?

I was told it’s because I am a fixer.  And I believe the friend that said this was correct.  (you know who you are, thank you!)

I will never claim  to be the perfect daughter, sister, mother or friend.  I forget birthdays, I don’t return phone calls.  But I am all about unconditional love, honor & respect.  If I give these to you, they are yours until you abuse them….then you have to earn them.

I guess I have to look at me.  Why I keep allowing people who have abused this unconditioanl love, honor & trust to keep coming back.  Why I keep letting them back in.  Why I can’t give up on them the way they give up on me and each other.

Why can’t I be as insincere and oblivious to other’s pain as these friends and family are to mine.

Truth be told, I need some distance.  I need some space.  I need to get some clarity and get some folks out of my life. 

It’s self-preservation mode I guess.  I feel shut down and locked up and it sucks.   The only thing I have going for me is when I get surly, my biting humor gets a bit darker and for some reason, folks just find it funnier when I am in a funk!!!

Who knew that surly and humorous were synonomous?

Truth be told, I miss the happy shiny me.  I miss looking in the mirror and liking who I see.  I miss the sound of my own laugh, knowing that in that moment….the world was sunshiny and fresh. 

Where’s Mr. Rogers when you need him?

Truth be told…I can’t change anyone and to change me means I have to look at me.

Good thing I gots this here blog…because then I can bore you with all the scary self revalations….

yup, that red “X” in the corner is your exit, should you choose to take it.

Is this what it feels like when you hit that brick wall?

Cause let me tell you…it sucks.

I have been in a pretty good place lately.  Not letting the drudge of reality truly affect me too much.

I should have known better.

After our vacation, things have been, well, off.  Not bad, but not uncomplicated.  I could manage it, I could deal with it, but it’s just seemed to have a flat spot.

let’s see….(this is gonna get rambly and grumpy, so buckle up)

The niece got really sick and had a fever for several days.  To the point of hospital visits, ER visits and worried mommy and auntie…she’s SOOOO MUCH better now, but it was leaving early and taking long lunches for me, I have an understanding boss, but I was pushing.

Apparently, a bit too much.  As things go, I have it pretty well at the job.  I am good at what I do and I like what I do.  After a rocky start, I actually like my boss;  he’s a good guy.  I let my loyalty stand in the way of discovering this for the first few months, but I realized my loyalty to my friend doesn’t (1)pay my bills and (2)affect whether or not I respect and like the guy.  So I put on my big girl panties and got over it.

It’s still embarassing, at almost 40 years of age, the boss has to tell me to figure out what I need to focus on.  Because he needs me here and needs to depend on me.  Yeah, I have taken a bit of here and there; yeah, my work is done…but he can’t DEPEND ON ME?  oh!  that’s the button.

Someone can’t depend on me…I almost dropped my heart on the floor when he said that…from embarassment and from dread, that I am not dependable…the horror!!!! 

He corrected me, he can depend on me, my work is excellent, but he knows I am capable of more than I am doing, more in my capacity as a manager.  I know he’s right, which makes me madder at myself because I have no one to blame but me. 

I have to re-prove, again, that I am committed to my job.  It’s not in jeopardy, he strongly stresses to me.  He doesn’t want me to quit or leave, nor am I being written up or even verbally reprimanded.  He wants to make sure I am here.  which just fuels me EVEN more.  ugh!

urgh!

or there’s always this old gem….

I have a daughter that is moving into her first apartment in two weeks.  TWO WEEKS!!!!  That alone is causing major stress on me for two reasons (1) she doesn’t have a car and (2) she hasn’t saved two dimes. 

In all my years as a parent, I have tried and tried to instill some responsibility in my children.  My daughter has fought me every step of the way. 

I haven’t seen much of her since then, she is gone every night and hasn’t begun packing.  I try to talk to her, but at this point, anything I say sound as if I am controlling her and the situation (her words) so I don’t or we are in a nasty, NASTY fight…the kind from two weeks ago that got her put out of the house for the night.  (good thing her bestie is a block away). 

I don’t fight back anymore, because I don’t want it to end that way.  I don’t want her last weeks at home to be remembered by how much we fought.  And she is completely taking advantage of it.   I need a break from it. 

I ache when I think of how much I will miss her, how empty it will feel, but we both need the space.  She needs to get out, on her own and learn that it’s not all handed to you. 

I feel enormous guilt because I can’t provide her with a car, but our rent is $300 MORE per month than my house payment, willingly paid each month to keep her close to her friends so she can graduate with them. 

Help me out here…$300 x 24 months = $7,200.00.

There’s your car.  Enjoy.

But she doesn’t see it that way.  And it’s been hard to explain that Whirly took a lower paying job to be home in the afternoons.  That Whirly pays HER bills, but I am responsible for them.  It doesn’t math out for the daughter, who thinks that I have put Whirly ahead of all others and that the daughter has suffered because I didn’t have the funds to provide a vehicle to the ONLY STUDENT IN HIGH SCHOOL to not have a car.

This is the same student who went to every dance in a new outfit, every banquet, every concert and party she wanted. 

The only thing I made her responsible for was her cell phone.  She’s had a job for two years and overdrafts her account more than the government does…

and yet, I am the designated dumpee….

and stay tuned for the newest ballad…

I have a family member in the midst of a “holy shit” moment…a huge issue that as much as it isn’t my battle, I find I keep getting drawn into it.  Even when I actually say the words “I don’t want to be part of this.”  I find that I am, because that’s family.  Yet, I want help.   And it seems to not be offered, even in the smallest of doses.  Because WE all need to help.  WE all are part of this family WE all need to maybe change our plans, adjust our needs and get this taken care of.  The sooner, the better.

As it stands, I will be changing my plans, I will be adjusting my needs and Whirly and I will help get it taken care of.  No thanks to others.  Sadly friends and friends OF friends are stopping, dropping and helping.  With no hidden agenda.

and finally…

…we are moving, already given our notice to the landlord and as of this moment, do not have a home.  BECAUSE the one we liked, the one we thought was ours, well…my credit sucks and that is the end of that.

We do have a contingency plan, another one we like too, but it’s not the one that we liked the best.  It’s the one we liked first and the son is stoked over it, so that’s a bonus.

If I can get the guy to call me back.  eeeeekkk!!!!!!

Because right now, in a month, I am homeless.  And the son starts school in 6 weeks. 

His acceptance of this is paramount to me.  He has to be happy where we move because it’s gonna be his home.  And I don’t want him to feel left out of decisions.  He’s got enough on his plate dealing with a douchebag dad and family that can lay a guilt trip on him like no one else.  At no point should a 10 (almost 11 mom!) year old feel guilty for being loved.  Nor should he feel an ounce of hurt because someone can show an ounce of comfort, support and love for him.  I mean, someone other than me…cause that’s soooo uncool!

Did I mention in the last 10 days the boy has had an earache and now pink eye….?  yeah….

It’s all starting to pile up on me.  All the pressure.  No, I can’t fix it all, but everyone looks to me, calls me, wants me there…so no, I don’t want to, I want to say “get away from me, leave me be….”  but I can’t.  I got too many people who can’t seem to function without me.  And I am beginning to not function well at all.

if I don’t, I fear no one will.  Then I have to clean up what is left behind, because these folks in my orbit can’t clean up after themselves. 

That big brick wall is looming faster and faster in front of me…please Lord, put a door in it before I get there…

I need my faith now, more than ever…I need to feel it get me through these times, simply because…

I am frightened.

If it peels, do I lose my tan?

ahhhh….I haven’t decided what’s better, the actual vacation or the first smell of home when you walk in the door.

oh, who am I fooling?  The VACATION is always better, right?

Let’s hit the highlights, then we shall delve deeper, m-kay?

1)  There are LOTS of jellyfish in the ocean

2)  Jellyfish will sting you.

3)  It hurts when a jellyfish stings you.

4)  No two people parent their children the same way.

5)  NEVER travel with folks who have unresolved issues.

6)  Always bring enough panties.

7)  Don’t travel for a birthday.  It is an underwhelming experience.

8)  The differences between an 18 year old, a 10 year old and a  5 year old are drastically magnified after an 8 hour car ride.

9)  Take long walks on beaches.  Build sandcastles.  Look at shells.

10) Drama doesn’t take vacations.

Let me say, I am glad I took this vacation.  I am glad that I went with everyone that I did.  It has taught me many things. 

We stayed in an AMAZING condo right on the beach on Mustang Island.  We have been staying at the same place for the past 13 years and have always had a wonderful time.  This year was not an exception.  Most of the time.

The room was fantastic and I will make sure to request it again, as I am already making reservations for next year.  I love going to the beach, feeling the sand between my toes, the smell of the salt in the air and the rapid slow down that I feel as I step one foot, then two feet into the warm, loose sand.  ahhhhhh…..

Now I promised a blog about the experience of traveling with the whole family, the bestie and the “foster” daughter.  Well, let’s just say, I probably built this trip WAY up in my mind, that we were all going to re-discover our close connections and that happiness was just going to abound.

yeah….I set myself up.

So I am going to say this, as this is my blog and I can air out what I feel, how I feel and when I feel it, because, well, I can…

I had a good time.  I could have had a better time if certain people had just left their bullshit at home for the duration of the trip.  It’s not like I ask for a lot of anything.  I asked for manners.  I asked for respect.  I asked you to shut up and not drag the ENTIRE group into your bullshit. 

We had good days, but there wasn’t a single, solitary day that didn’t have a degree of bullshit to it.  Somehow, someway, I spent at least 30 minutes of my vacation dealing with multiple personalities, passive agressive behavior, ill manners, stomping around, crying and accusations.

And this was from the adults. 

The kids, well, they are kids…they fart, burp, say inappropriate things, but they are kids.  I will 100% take responsibility for my two, for their actions, for their manners.  Others need to do the same. 

This was not just your vacation.  Any of you that I am thinking of as I am typing this…not helping, not “pitching in”, taking advantage of my not wanting to cause conflict…well, here is your comeuppance. 

You pissed me off.  And now, you will know…

Not helping with the meals, not helping with the dishes, or picking up the wet towels…it’s rude and lazy.  Expecting that some Condo Fairy was going to pick up after your lazy asses was the wrong assumption.  It was me.  You’re welcome.  And your attempts at “helping” as in “I did the dishes once…”  (There were five days, count ‘em!) well, they were just as lazy as if you sat there watching me do it from your cozy chair, couch, bed, etc. 

And deciding every fucking day needed to have a dose of soap opera…that wasn’t necessary.  I Tivo’d General Hospital the whole week…I didn’t need the live action version.  But the screaming at me on my birthday was an awesome present…especially since I wasn’t out of bed yet.

So no…there probably won’t be anymore vacations like this.  Sorry.  I don’t shell out the money I do so I can have the same conversations with folks everyday…no one had an outstanding time.  And it wasn’t all one person that acted up…there were several. 

I find that it’s ironic…the children were at times MUCH more well behaved than the adults.  I can’t imagine what we are teaching them.

blech….

On a more positive note, I have walked away with a rockin’ tan…I look like a coffee bean.  Not as coffee bean as the niece…I swear, I could actually sit and watch her as she tanned…not burned like the rest of us…but just browned up…

The look on the son’s face will carry me through.  From our bodysurfing together, to our walks on the beach, to watching him catch fish and crabs and shrimp.  That shining face, his eyes lit up…made me happier than I can explain.

…as will the sound of laughter as my daughter dropped her cool facade and just became my girl…for a week…her laugh and smile is burned in my memory.

I have not had as much fun looking for shells as I did with my niece…she was fascinated with everyone of them that I put in her hands and I loved building the sandcastle with her and the son…I think it was the best part of my trip…just me, the niece, the son and the sister…in the evening shade, building a sandcastle. 

That the bestie and the daughter thought it would be fun to destroy later that night.  grrr…..

If I could take all the awesome parts of the trip, throw out the ugly moments, we would have a day left…we wasted too much time on the score keeping, the hurt feelings, the menutiae….we got bogged down in bullshit. 

and that makes me infintely sad.

I think I am going to go check on my sunburn, look at the pictures I took (a joy from my dad…I am in few, because I am behind the camera) and remember the fun times…and let go of the bad ones.

I hope the others can follow my lead.

I’m a Ramblin’ (Wo)Man…

Well, we have gotten to the point that we are counting hours until vacation time.  Meaning, the son, has been counting down hours for the past 7 days…

“It’s only 168 hours, 167 hours 166 hours until we leave, right mom?”

whoo-whee, I need this vacation.  we skipped a vacation last year because with gas at $4.69 a gallon, driving to work was a vacation! 

so, summer is here (well technically, in 4 days) and I am mindful that summer is both a blessing and the bane of my existence.

The kids have a pool, DVD players, XBox, computers, Playstations, PSP and Nintendo DS’s.  Did I mention they HAVE A POOL? 

They have basketball, skateboards, bicycles, games, books, legos and a park ACROSS THE STREET…

and they are bored….

well, the son is…the daughter is a party animal and doesn’t come home except to sleep and shower.  Not really, kinda….she works all day, then it’s play time.  So I have seen her a total of about 40 minutes since graduation.

This vacation will trap her in a car with me for 8 hours.  And then in a condo for 6 days….except when we are on the beach.

Now, we all know how the daughter and I are like gasoline and a match in the car…but we have two others riding with us that are a buffer.  And Whirly has gotten me some Tylenol PM, so I will knock myself out and sleep most of the way…I hope.  It would be a real pisser to start a vacation fighting for control of the radio.

This is the first vacation in THIRTY years that my sister, my mom and I have all been on together.  Last time was S. Padre Island when I was nine.  We had a blast.  Well, the sister and I did….chasing sand crabs across our mommy’s feet!  She didn’t seem to appreciate this as much as we did.

We’ve decided to pack up the daughter, the son, the daughter’s bestie (and my favorite friend), the mother, the sister, the niece and one of my besties Tanner…

this should make for a glorious trip.  We will either all love each other or hate each other by the time we get back. 

I sure hope it doesn’t turn into some weird episode of Survivor and we start voting people off.  Because there’s only three cars and someone is gonna get left behind.

Wish me luck.

When is it not just a coat of paint?

I am a big sister.  Not just any big sister, but the overbearing, overprotective, loud, obnoxious big sister.  And for this, I have a little sister.  (one would follow, yes?) 

I WANTED a pony, but my parents apparently heard “I want a sister” not “I want a pony” when I was three, so I got a noisy blonde chubby human thing that didn’t like to share HER toys, but always wanted mine.  bitch.

Our lives have been comedic, tragic, dramatic, unbelieveable lives.  We have done stuff to each other (well, me to her) that US troops don’t do in war, we have fought, shared, loved and laughed.  We have done all of this, together. 

We don’t really work well separately, meaning, when we fight and vow to NEVER SPEAK AGAIN!!! (cause we do this….) we find we don’t work in our own worlds without each other. 

It’s been me and her against our parents, her friends, my ex, my kids, her kid for as long as I have known.  She is my biggest cheerleader and my harshest critic.  But she is my sister, and that is more than skin deep.  damnit!!!

So, three years ago, this sister bought a house.  Her first (I do NOT count the trailer in the small town…) and she did it on her own.  We were so proud of her and she was of it.

Through her trials and tribulations that go with dealing with a Pile of Shit, she put other things before it, before herself.  And she let both kinda go.  And it hurt, watching it on her face, seeing how lost she felt, how she needed someone to hang on to her, to show her that she could do it. 

I however, decided to do two things (1) become the Asshole That I Am and (2)let her fall and let her pick herself up.

Now, the first thing is SOOOOO easy for me to do.  Being the Asshole That I Am is like a cosy pair of slippers for me.  I get petulant, hardened and brutally honest.  If you are being stupid, I will tell you, in glorious color, how stupid it looks from here.  And no, you aren’t allowed to have a contradictory opinion, when I am Asshole That I Am, there is no other opinion.  Which makes living with me quite a minefiled every 28 days…but I digress.

The second, is the HARDEST.THING.I.HAVE.EVER.DONE.  Yes, the hardest.  Two kids, a total of 34 hous of natural labor, a nasty divorce, and teenage years were a cake walk compared to watching my sister try and try and try.  Knowing I could bulldoze my way in, make her do what I knew (we all knew) what was best.  But I had to sit back, watching like  a hawk from the sidelines and waiting, because if that douchebag hurt her, I was gonna hurt him. 

And I would have.

Yet, somewhere along the way, my sister found her balls.  (Sorry Mom…) There’s really not any other explanation for it, well, for me there’s no (and to know me, this statement just fits me!!!!)  She decided to stand on her own two feet, to not allow someone to take from her what was God given and to value what she has worked so hard to create for herself and her daughter.

A good, stable, loving life.

So after POS left, we (the rest of the familia Stephanie) gave her a gift of labor, of love, of aching muscles and long weekends.

We all committed to helping her turn her house back around.  To make it the home she was proud of.  To help her feel the pride in her accomplishments.  Let me say, now, for the record…had I known it was gonna be this friggin hard, I would have sold my kidneys and contracted the work out.  Anyhoo.

We have spent the past couple of weekends, repairing gutted bathrooms (thank you POS), remodeling other bathrooms, clearing guest bedrooms of all the TOYS  (seriously, she’s one kid!!!!) and painting, painting and MORE PAINTING!!!!

We have weeks to go, flowers to plant and pictures to hang, but it’s starting to be HER place again.  on HER terms.  And it feels good when I leave, barely walking, that I have helped my baby sister find her place.

Saturday, we were painting her room and she said the most striking thing I have heard from her in two years.  “It’s like this coat of paint is covering the history, the hurt.  This coat of paint is my fresh start.”

Yes, baby sister, here’s to your fresh start.  You have earned it.

You made it through.  On your terms.

Just you. 

Well.done.

Today is a new day…

There is pain, suffering, loss and guilt enough to last many lifetimes over, it can swallow me whole and I can dwell on so many of the negatives each day, that I run out of words.  I could run out of hope.  But then, the bad, negative things win…

I can’t let that happen, not now…not today…

I have decided, in about the last 45 seconds that today is going to be a good day.

I may not have a comma in my bank account…but it’s a good day.

I may not have a college education to further my career…but it’s a good day.

I may not have the girlish figure that I dreamed of…but it’s a good day.

Why?

I have my faith.  I have my family.  And I have my friends. 

And I shall rejoice in the knowledge that today is a gift.  That my faith surrounds me, comforts me, holds me fast and is constant. 

That my family is here, now, in this moment with me.  And are a blessing to me.

That my friends love me, as I love them and they are each an integral force in my life that helps me take every step. 

I am here, now, in this moment.  And for that, I am grateful.

For that, I am joyful.

All In the Family

Someone remarked to me today…”You are from a big family, I can tell.”  They were surprised when I said, “Nope…just me and the sister.”  But it made me think, what exactly defines my family…

cause folks…my folks are NUTS!!!

Webster’s Dictionary defines family as:

1: a group of individuals living under one roof and usually under one head : household   2 a: a group of persons of common ancestry : clan b: a people or group of peoples regarded as deriving from a common stock :   3 a: a group of people united by certain convictions or a common affiliation : fellowship   (it also defines family as the Mafia…which could also apply to me…not in a criminal way…but I digress)

Interesting…my family is a mix of this.

I have proudly been a family kind of chick.  It’s always been for me, about family.  I used to want to have a whole gaggle of brothers and sisters.  Growing up, my friends all had lots of brothers and sisters.  It was just me and the sister.  The shark-tooth, bouncy blonde sister…damnit…I asked for a horse!!!  Methinks Santa was wayyyyy off, again, digressing….

I had a friend that lost a parent about two weeks ago.  This friend has been estranged from her family for being gay.  And the first person who got a phone call about her mother passing was her.  My heart has ached for her and she has handled this with a grace and presence that amazes me.  She is strong and faith filled and I pray for her peace and comfort through this all. 

It makes me think of my dad.  How much I miss him.  And yet, as much as I miss him, I don’t think of him everyday anymore.  Does that sound bad?  I miss him everyday, but I don’t let it hold me back.  I think that is the human way of healing.  To not miss what you can’t have.  Because he’s not here, does that make him less family?  No one can replace him…

It makes me think, am I the person my father would want me to be.  Or who my Father would want me to be?  No, it doesn’t have anything to do with being gay.  That’s not it.  But am I the protective ferocious person I am to honor that memory?  To honor that legacy?

Some moments, no, I am not.  And some moments, I proudly am.  I guess that is what makes me infinitely human.

At my core, I am about my family.  I may not always see eye to eye with my mom, sister, children, cousins, etc., but I am of them.  They shape me into who I have become.

I don’t have to like or accept who or how these folks are, but they are a reflection OF me.  OF where I came from.  I don’t have to agree with them, or even be around them.  But I can love them.  Even from afar.

I haven’t seen my cousins from my father’s side of the family for the better part of 10 years.  One cousin in particular, I haven’t seen in 23 years!  But I have memories of him.  Of them.  I still love them and they are part of me.  I miss them from time to time, but we didn’t grow up close and have made our families in different directions.  Doesn’t make them less family. 

I have been in the past extremely close to my mom and my sister and through the controlling dynamics of all three of us…we have changed.  Some things for the good, some for the bad.  Doesn’t mean I have to be as close to them as I have been in the past, it doesn’t mean I won’t be there when the chips are down. 

As we grow and mature, we choose our paths.  We are only responsible for our own happiness, for our own actions.  But I am learning that my actions, my choices affect others.  They affect my family, my friends, my co-workers, etc. 

I have my family of choice.  My warriors.  Some genetically linked to me, others not.

I am closer to some of my non-DNA family folks than I will ever be to my genetically linked peoples.  These people just KNOW me.  And I wonder, is it because I trust them more?  why?  why trust someone that I am not related to to help me through my darkest times? 

But it makes sense.

Family hurts each other.  We can.  We can say the most horrific things to each other and in the end…we just give up, accept that we are family and let it go. 

Trust me….I am a total bitch to my sister at least twice a year.  and in the end we make up.   Our relationship will never be what it was in the past; our lives, children, jobs, beliefs have changed us and our relationship.  Doesn’t mean when she needs me, I won’t be there, doesn’t mean I don’t love her.  It just means that it’s different.  We are adults now and have different lives in different directions.  We are close, just on a different level. 

I have friends, that the when the shit hits the fan, they are the first person think to call.  I cannot tell you how many times Kenner has talked me off the ledge.  She is my sister in everyway except genetically.  I look to her for comfort, advice, fashion help…Kenner has seen me in my darkest hour.  And helped me when no one else would listen.  Does this make her more family?  Or because she lives in another city, three hours from me, make her less family? 

My friend Tanner, I talk to her EVERYDAY…and she can tell by ONE sentence if something is wrong with me.  I have known her for 24 years of my life and just recently became close friends.  I tell her things that I normally wouldn’t tell someone, but its because of the trust that we have built on.  Does that make her more family?  Or because we don’t know all about each others history, does that make her less family?

I had a step sister and a step brother that I still think of as such.  My big sister and my baby brother.  We are far apart, and through the years, have lost touch, to regain it to a degree a while back, but if they needed me, I would be there.  In a snap.  My love and my memories of them have not faded over the years.  Are they still my family?  Or because our parents divorced, does that make them less family?

I have to work on my family connections.  The ones that are important.  The ones that are necessary in my life and put down the ones that are hurtful to me.  

I love to have my life filled with laughter.  And my family makes me laugh.  All of them.  We can’t do it without each other, and we do it because of each other. 

The IT is what we have to decide for ourselves.

Love the family you have.  All parts of that family.  It will grow, it will wane.  But in the end…those that are your family, will be your family.

Damnit.

A little of this, alot of that!!!

Well, it’s been a few days since I have posted anything. So you are just gonna have to keep up….

Actually, I haven’t been in the mood to emote on anything and quite frankly, I have been P-I-I-I-Issy!!!

It seems to happen a bit more frequently than it used to and for the life of me, I cannot fathom why.   And it’s distressing to me.   I don’t want to be this person.   Yet, I cannot seem to help myself. I’m not depressed.   I am irritated.   ALL THE TIME!   My stupid-o-meter stays off the scale because I find myself surrounded by what I am beginning to believe is God’s test for me…how much stupid can I actually handle, before I POP!   Does He have a sense of humor or what?

Most days, stupid fascinates me.   It makes me wonder if these folks ACTUALLY think what they are doing; wearing or saying is a good idea.   Rest assured, it isn’t.   Stupid amuses me most times, right now, I am deluged with it and it’s not so funny anymore.

We made it through the daughter’s 18th birthday, with almost no drama.   But alas, the drama was Whirly & I.   My being irritable translates into being critical of those I love.   I become more controlling…well…I did it and she called me on my shit.   Which I hate.   And yes, lesson learned, maybe not retained for future reference, but it was learned.

So, the 18th.   I can’t tell you what it means to be the mother of an eighteen year old girl.   Other than, I know feel like my parents.   A taste of my own mortality, because up until she hit eighteen, I wasn’t so far away from it.   Now, I am.   Now, I am a mother.   Just a mother….no longer the Young Mom.   It’s a bit disheartening.   It’s a bit scary.   No, it’s a lot scary….now, as much as I was able to keep her out of trouble, now, as an “adult” she is allowed into places and situations that I would rather keep her from.   But I have to let her go and experience it and figure out for herself how to extricate herself from situations without getting hurt, lost or arrested.   It was much easier when she was 5 and thought I was the greatest thing in the world.   Now, well, she doesn’t think that.   At All.   Urgh…now I know how my dad felt when I said “Oh! I’m eighteen, now I can get INTO CLUBS!!! Let’s go now!” 

I swear, I think I heard my bones creak.

The boy is just holding on for a ride.   My son has Dysgraphia.   This is a learning disorder that prevents him from getting it down right.   Meaning, he gets it in his head, but to get him to explain it or put it down on paper, he needs extra help.   He has a very, very mild form of it and over the years, has learned to overcome it.   We have used tutors and the Special Education Department at our school.   He goes to a SED teacher when he needs extra help, at his request and goes with him for his TAKS testing and Benchmarks.   He is in regular classes and you wouldn’t know if I hadn’t told you… I tell you this because; I want to give kudos to Whirly.  

My son has been a good student.   Last year, he got Third Place in the Science Fair for his entire grade.   On a project that he and Whirly did together, and had fun doing it!!   This year, for the first time, he made the honor role.

We learned from an “expert” this year, that the way we were helping with his homework, the checking it, the sitting with him, the making him re-do it, wasn’t helping him.   And that we should let him do it, not check it or correct it and let the teachers see what he wasn’t grasping.   Oh-ok.   You are the experts; we will try it your way…

uh-oh….yeah….he bottomed out.

So we decided to go back to the way we WERE doing it.   And his grades have improved.   Dramatically.   Whirly is doing what she and the boy are comfortable with and we are proud of him.   It’s nice to have that person here to back me up, to support me and my decisions.   It’s nice to have her make a difference in my kids.   Because I see it.   She loves them and they love her.   We are a family.  

How do I get it across that she brings more to this family than a paycheck?   She has adjusted her schedule around my son.   She goes to work at the crack of dawn so she can be at his school in the afternoon to bring him home.   Not to daycare, but home.   That is a luxury for me, for us.   It’s invaluable.   Whirly helps him with his homework single handedly.   I do the projects, the science fair presentation boards, loaded with information that the two of them have provided me with, but she does the heavy lifting on it with him.   And it’s done before I get home from work most days.   This is another luxury, that at 6:30 at night, I am not spending the small amount of time I have with him looking at long division and sentence fragments.   Also invaluable.

Yes, we are a family.   The mommies, the daughter and the son.   We all move in and through each other in a dance that only the four of us know.   We have different partners move in and out of it, but if the four of us are not moving together, everyone ends up bumping into each other.   I can’t imagine the daughter without the son.   I watch them when they think I don’t see them.   I see how she checks on him.   How he looks to her for approval.   I see that they love each other.

I remember her, when she was 7, crying at the first sight of her baby brother.   How that imaged was burned into my heart.   It was the first time, I think, that she was overwhelmed with love for someone else.   I will never forget that moment.   And even though they fight like Vikings against each other most days…at the core of it…no one messes with their brother/sister.    I feel safer knowing in the future, they will have each others backs.

lastly, my thoughts are with Whirly’s family today.   Her Aunt Eileen passed away last night.   She was 92.   NINETY-TWO!!!!   I can’t imagine what she had witnessed in her life and let me tell you, she was a sweet lady.   I had only met her twice.   But she was a character.   Still living on her own; still driving; still smiling.   She was amazing!   I enjoyed both of my visits with her and feel a bit sadder that I didn’t get the chance to visit with her again, to hear her stories of how she grew up, where she traveled, what she saw.   But that was a good life that she led.   She lived out loud.

eh….I am out of words, out of thoughts….for now…rest assured, there will be more!

Where there’s stupid, there’s always more!!!

State of the Union, Stephanie Style.

Well, here we are again, at the end of another year…a time of reflection.  And since I will be uber-busy tomorrow, I won’t have time to think, much less post my thoughts.

 

My thoughts run wild and rampant tonight and there are so many things to say, things I feel and yet, most I keep to myself, as it’s my way.  But there are some I want to share, there are people that I want to recognize, as they have affected my life this year, in ways I never expected.

 

First and foremost, I want to mention I could not, would not, have made it through this year without my faith in the Lord Above.  I have relied on Him and tested Him in ways that would confound even, well, Him; I have floated on my faith and been carried through some truly rough times, I questioned His wisdom occasionally and I fell…but only far enough to learn the lesson and pull myself back up.  I never ONCE felt He left my side.  I could only hope for this kind of blind faith in Him, in SOMETHING for everyone I know.  It’s a peaceful, calming feeling…knowing that I am not alone, even in my darkest times.  Amen!

 

Now…let’s get this party started…

 

To say me and my folks, friends and family alike, have had a roller coaster of a year, is a complete and utter understatement.  It’s been one hell of a ride!

 

Let it also be understood, I am not intentionally leaving you out of my blog for any reason other than well…the mind is a terrible thing to waste and most days, I don’t have the capacity to put two thoughts together logically.  I am POSITIVE I am leaving folks out…

 

Here’s to THAT friend…the one that never lets me forget who I am, and who I can be.  Kenner has been my warrior and my sounding board.  When I have a problem, she is the first person I run to…aside from those inside my four walls…I can’t thank you enough for your never-ending faith, trust, love and honor.  It’s truly in those quiet times that I realize just how much you are a part of my soul.  My best friend…my sister of choice…

 

Here’s to the two that honestly have been handed more lemons than any two people I know and have continuously made lemonade. For Shae and Phyllis…in my lifetime, I have never, NEVER met two people that had a more positive outlook on EVERYTHING.  It’s almost nauseating…

      

For Shae…she has made her own choices and NOT listened to her big sissy…and we ALL know how that NEVER works…yet…when the chips were down, I was the first person she call to be there for her.  And her strength amazes me.  Always amazes me.  Our relationship has changed again this year and I see her as something I have never seen her as.  An adult.  Well done baby sister.  Well done.

 

For Phyllis…my Sweet P…the Grace of God has seen her through the passing of her father and her aunt with an amazing strength.  It has seen her through the toughest part of a relationship and made her more compassionate than I thought one human could be.  He saw her through a horrific car accident that could have taken her from me…and for that, I believe that Phyllis has a higher purpose here.  Phyllis, my life is sweeter because of you.  I am so glad you are here.

 

For the friend from a lifetime ago, Tanner; I don’t think that had we “hung out” in high school we would be where we are today.  And for that, I am so grateful that it took twenty years for our friendship to blossom.  Your laugh brightens my day and you have shown me that new old friends are sometimes the best ones to have.  You showed me just how good a friend you are and you never even knew you did it.    I am forever grateful you are in my corner.  You are golden, Tanner…there aren’t many like you.

 

For my mother…good God…I do not know where to start with this woman…she has knocked on deaths door more times than should be allowed and I have to say…for the first time in at least 9 years…we went a FULL YEAR with no HOSPITAL visit…did you realize that???  I have tested my mom…her patience, her sanity, her temper, time after time after time…and through it all…she reminded me what it’s like to be a mom.  Not the PERFECT mom, by my mom…thank you…I don’t know how else to say it.  Thank. You.

 

My little Lilleebutt…the pride of the clan…you are so much like your Aunt Stephie, it is unreal!!! I will promise to protect you from the dumb boys that will make you cry and to be there when mean mommy grounds you for sneaking out, talking back, missing curfew (I said she was like me!!!).  I will have your mommy’s back, but I remember what a turd she was way back when and I am the one to regale you with these stories.  Never lose that gleam in your eye…that laugh in your smile and that sass in your step…you little one…make my life merrier.

 

Then there’s the fam damily…

 

Oh, the son…the youngest of this clan.  The only testosterone in this House of Estrogen; poor thing.  He is picked on, pushed around, loved and cherished.  Through it all, he loves it.  We all want the best for this little man.  My brave one.  He is my whistler in the morning and my smile at night.  The boy will grow into the man he is terrified to be before I know it and I already mourn the fact that sooner rather than later…he will be my baby boy no more.  My world in infinitely better because of you!

 

Ah…the daughter.  I have raged, cried, boasted and laughed at her, with her and because of her.  She is the whole reason I am a mommy and it hurts my heart to know that she is on the threshold of adulthood and my role in her life, the one that is influx right now, will be changing, permanently so very soon.  She is my touchstone.  My fiercest protector and my biggest fan.  She is gorgeous, loud, brazen and demanding…just who I wish I could be.  You are my breath and reason for living.  You make it better, just with that 1,000 watt smile of yours.  Thank you for allowing me to watch the show…

 

My Whirly Girl…I have never loved another with the ferocity that I love you.  I can’t say it any simpler than that.  You make me brighter, happier and better than I could be without you.  You are what was missing from me.  And with four small words, made all my dreams come true. 

 

Whew…almost done…you still with me?

 

Here’s to the friend of long distance…the one that I crave to get back to.  I will, when the time is right…you have stayed in my life for this long and I have treasured our friendship for as long as I can remember.  You are my support from afar and I feel smarter just knowing you. Thank you for stickin’ around!

 

Here’s to the unnamed, yet never forgotten people.  You have come into or out of my life for a reason.  You have shown me that strength, laughter, the best and the worst.  I wish only that you continue to get everything in life that you deserve and desire.  We will never be far apart and I am merely a phone call away.

 

Here’s to the support for the blog surfers that read what I put out here…You have re-ignited a passion in me that makes me WANT to write more.  It’s inspired a long lost dream. That you read it, comment on it and support me…fuels my ambitions and makes me want to be so much more creative.  Thank you for helping me in ways you may never understand.  It’s an honor to be a part of this “blog-o-sphere family.”

 

Lastly, here’s to me…yes.  me…I have put so many in front of me that I forgot that I can take care of no one if I don’t care for me first.  I have only resolution in the coming year.  It’s not for a smaller waist or lower number on the scale.  It’s not more money or a better job or to even win the lottery…its one simple sentence.

 

I resolve to put me first. 

 

So, so long 2008; you have been quite a year.  You have shown me the best and worst in folks and that I have a faith and a strength that I never knew I could muster. 

 

I wish you well…

 

Hello…2009…buckle up!!!

Grocery Store Dialogue

So, Whirly and I are at the store, to get some groceries and Christmas lights.  

We decide NOT to divide and conquer, as I am OCD when it comes to my list.  If you get something that is NOT on my list, it will piss me off for the rest of the day.  Whirly likes to browse while shopping.  Picking up whatever catches her eye…tonight, at the checkout, it was Mountain Dew and Crunch A Munch. 

Not bad, no pissy here.

It was our conversation in produce that amused me….

Whirly:  “Do we need any tomatoes?”

Me:  “No, we’ve got three or four, I would think we’re good.”

Whirly:  “Yeah, but Trejo smashed one in the Daughter’s face last night!  Remember? “

Me:  “Oh yeah…better grab a couple more….”

I giggled the rest of the way through the store…