Happy Birthday baby boy.

Happy Holidays? (take 2)

you know what else is awesome about the holidays? Egg nog. With rum. In vast quantities.

Happy Holidays?

Last night was like magic, after a long day at work. I love that Scott and I can find beauty and happiness in the smallest of things. Scott commented on how pretty the rain soaked streets were, all covered with orange, red, and yellow leaves. He was right, the combination of headlights and streetlights reflecting on the wet asphalt was so beautiful. Reminded me of Christmas, which is funny, considering it was 9 o'clock at night, 70 degrees and raining.

Scott's so excited about Christmas this year, he's been itching to drag out the tree and decorate for 2 weeks already. That's a little unusual for us. Too many kids and not enough money has made Christmas more about stress than joy for us for pretty much our whole (nearly 19 year) relationship. Maybe it's because of Raevyn - having a new baby around always grounds you, reminds you of what's important.

I'm more excited about Christmas this year than usual too. I've been stashing cash for 2 months - for my gift for Scott. I'm a bad Mom, I'm far more excited to shop for him than I am for the kids. I always manage to fail at buying "just the right thing" for my kids. I don't know if that's because I buy the wrong things, or if it's because they change their minds about what they want every five minutes.

When they were little their eyes lit up like those wet streets did last night. Now, ugh, I never know what to get them to light them up any more. But Raevyn, heh, all she'll need is the Christmas tree to leave her awe-stricken. I'm excited :)

Change

It's a constant state of flux - this process of becoming.

November 9, 2010 & 75 degrees

I can see Thanksgiving from here - and smell Christmas too, but at 75 degrees on a sunny front porch? Even in short sleeves, I can't really feel either one.

I watched a few leaves chase one another in a flaming circle-dance across the street today. They seemed so young and energetic, but the scuttle-scurry scratching belied their age. I couldn't help but smile. Nothing like old folks acting like younguns, holding hands and giggling, forgetting...

Others would have me believe that the magic is in the forgetting. I know the truth; the magic is in the holding hands. When you're holding hands, you don't even have to dance because just sitting still in the sunshine is a joy.

letting it go...

The other night I was watching TV. I never watch "normal" television - it's all Discovery Chanel, Animal Planet, etc. Well I got caught up in an episode of Hoarders. The show makes me twitch, makes me want to clean closets, and throw everything that isn't absolutely a necessity in the garbage. Generally I ignore that urge - I hate housework LOL! But in the episode I was watching Monday night, the woman began hoarding in response to the loss of her daughter as an infant. One scene was of her, in the basement, going through everything her child ever owned - and realizing that it was all damaged from moisture.

OK, I think any of you who know me realize that I can relate, right? I've lost a daughter, and a son, and have held on to a LOT of the stuff they had. Nova lived longer and came home from the hospital for months, so he owned a lot more 'stuff' than Alexis managed to have in the 12 days she lived in the hospital.But the reality is, pretty much everything either of them ever had was boxed up in the closet. And the episode made me realize how silly that is. The 'things' are not them. They don't replace them, the don't even "symbolize" them... they're just used, old baby clothes in the closet that serve no purpose at all except to anchor me to 2 of the most painful experiences of my life. It was "Mommy Guilt" and a sense of scarcity that made me hold on to these things. I realized that these things didn't actually hold my memories of the babies I'd once held - instead, they held me prisoner. It was time to move on and let go.

So I headed to the closet to sort through bags and boxes of baby things I hadn't even glanced at in years. It was surprisingly easy. Don't let me mislead you, I did not get rid of it all. I saved pictures, and items that held significant meaning. But did I really need every blanket Nova owned? Was there a reason to keep all 15 unused diapers? Or the spit-up stained onesies and sleepers? Or the things I'd forgotten we even had, let alone saved? No. Realistically, no.

But it was so much less painful than I expected - so dry-eyed and tearless. And THAT sort of makes me sad - if that makes any sense at all.

All in all though, it was a relief to be rid of some of the things that anchored me to an unchangeable and painful event. I still miss them. And I still feel particularly guilty that somehow Nova was... how should I say it? More impactful perhaps? Is that even a word? I think not, but that's what he was. More impactful. Alexis' things barely fill a small pink diaper bag, Nova's filled 2 shelves of the closet...

Not sure if there's a deeper significance to that fact - or if it's worth examining further? All I know is, for now, I am feeling a bit lighter, in both the figurative, and literal sense.

God I wish I still wrote poetry.

It's been so long that I no longer have any confidence in my words. I've become so.. banal, so drab - the tedium of life, "real" life, has worn away my creativity. I have no edges. Everything about me has become round, soft, boring.

Un-poetic.

I think I feel too much...

When I start a new job (as a waitress, that happens fairly frequently, it isn't exactly a career known for longevity) I know within a week whether I love it or not. If I don't, frankly, I move on - life is too short to work at a place where I'm miserable - there are tables in every restaurant, and I can find a restaurant where I can be happy. With that said, once I find a place, I tend to be a long timer. I take pleasure in my job, as crazy as that may sound. I also take pride in it. I am a loyal conscientious employee and I work at places where I can CARE about my job, my customers, and my co-workers. And I'm not afraid to tell you, I'm good at what I do. Damn good. As in, I run circles around my co-workers.

I am also happy to help them, I'll get drinks, help carry their food out, whatever they need. And at the end of the night, I'm usually the last one to leave because I do a run through and make sure everything is done. I tend to get the reputation as the one to call when ever a shift needs to be covered too. Oh, someone called out last minute? Call Erin, she'll come in with no notice! And don't take this all the wrong way either - I do all of this without resentment or expectation of special treatment.

But god damn, ya know, EQUAL treatment would be nice. Why do the catty bitches who don't help anyone, call out all the time, and want to leave early (without doing their sidework) get fucking special treatment????

Well, after being a waitress for 18 years, after always having the same work ethic, I learned a lesson tonight:

the lazy, ill-tempered, entitled people get special treatment while those of us that bust our fucking asses get the shit end of the stick. I need to do my job, only my job, stop being nice, helpful, conscientious, loyal, friendly, and for gods sake, STOP CARING.

I'm sick of being taken advantage of, taken for granted, and being treated like I am less-than. Fuck that. 10 months on this job, and yep, the bitches have managed to break me.

should this become my workout blog?

So I've joined the gym. Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous, but it isn't a joke, so stop laughing, OK? Really, stop now.

I have been overly thin all my life. I weighed 98 pounds (unless I was pregnant) until 2005. Recently I've been up to a whopping 112-114. Trust me, I am not upset about the gain, I'm upset about how that 15 pounds landed.

We went to the beach in June, I wore, as usual, a bikini. Why not!? I only weigh 114! We had just gotten a Cannon Rebel XTi and some cool lenses, so there were a LOT of pictures taken of this particular beach trip. Several of those pictures (well, it seemed like several hundred of those pictures) were of me, in a bikini. You just can't deny the truth when you're faced with pictures... hi-res digital images of the rounded-shoulders, the soft, mushy body, the sagging rump... the body of a *gasp* nearly 40 year old woman who has never worked out, eaten well, or thought much about health in general.

The lightbulb came on: Oh my god, I don't LOOK on the outside like I feel (like a 25 yr old) on the INSIDE.

Meanwhile, Scott has been complaining about wanting to join a gym, lose some weight, and get in shape. Sadly, the way we work, going to a gym during any normal hours is simply not an option. Then we found Snap Fitness. Open 24/7, you get a keycard and can go any time you want. BINGO!

We joined this past Saturday, for opposite reasons really. I need to gain weight, tone up, add muscle mass, and strengthen my core. Scott wants to lose weight and get more fit. But we go together now, 7 days a week, and cheer each other on, hold each other accountable, and yeah, he's teaching me wtf I'm doing on all these machines. But we're loving it - I never expected to love it (he's always loved working out, me... yeah, too much like work I thought).

So in 4 days, he's lost 2 pounds, and I found them! I've gained 2 pounds of muscle ALREADY!? Awesomeness. Didn't expect such immediate results! Score one for instant gratification! And I feeel gooood! Well, now that the soreness is subsiding...

Yup, it's one of those days - you know the type: where you let the day get away from you without actually doing any of those things you aspired to do when you opened your eyes upon waking. I'm having more and more of them lately. I work so damned much that when I get a day off (or like today, when I only work one shift instead of all day) I just don't have it in me to DO anything. Sure the weekend at the beach was great, but it was seriously just too short. And anyone with kids knows vacations are more stress than relaxation when you have the kids with you, full of excitement, wanting to do everything, and end up over-tired and out of their own element in a strange bed...

Yeah, I think somehow I'm bitching that I have just returned from vacation, and half a half day off today. Man, only me.

LOL, think I'll go clean the kitchen now.

whiney much?

I have a headache, and heartburn. I need a day off OTHER THAN Sundays (we're closed Sundays so I get that day off) because one day is NOT enough time to clean house, do grocery shopping, any errands that need to be done, spend time with the family AND actually relax for a change. There are too damn many people/animals dependent on me, there are too damn many people in my house - most of which don't clean up after themselves or contribute a fucking thing into the household, financially or physically. My husband and I work constantly, and not only do we have little or nothing to show for it, we never get to spend time together, and we're both totally stressed out and MISERABLE.

The worst part is knowing that *I RAISED THESE KIDS* how did they turn out like this? Immature, irresponsible, lazy, and entitled. WTF?

wowzers

looks like my background pics have been deleted and I'll need to update my layout tomorrow huh? Sorry guys!

what happened to my online job at that cool good-will movement about giving? (this post is so damn LONG!)

I was pretty involved in the giving movement at a particular good-will site for, well... almost 2 years. Originally I was just a member, then a volunteer who helped moderate the site, and eventually the founder asked me to become the community manager, and put me on the payroll. That position actually spun off into a Virtual Assistant position, and it also netted me other clients, for whom I filled various roles. It was pretty lucrative for a while, but in the back of my mind, I knew that all of my other online work was a spin off of (and somewhat dependent on) my involvement with the site and its founder.

That was cool, the site founder and I became pretty damn close, and the movement was one I believed in whole-heartedly, and practiced daily without fail. It worked - not just for me but for, well, roughly 11,000 people now. Never once did my faith in the philosophy ever waver.

But in the course of my involvement 'behind the scenes' I became uncomfortable. Seemed to me that profiting from it tainted the base concept, and twisted my motivation for being/remaining involved. I was doing things that (while not at all illegal or dishonest) made my inner voice scream, "This is all wrong!"

I was doing it wrong. The movement is totally legit, but my involvement became more and more about monetary gain. Don't get me wrong, whenever you give, you WILL receive, but I don't believe that you should give *just to* receive, and I was. I was remaining involved so I'd keep receiving that monthly pay check. I remained involved because I felt that if I was no longer at/with the site, I'd lose my other clients, and an entire line of income. And it was the biggest part of my income for many many months, hell, for a while it was my ONLY income. But my income relied on doing things I wasn't comfortable doing. Things I didn't *actually* know how to do, or... things that for reasons too complicated to explain here, just weren't me, and didn't fit into my personal philosophy. Things that, like I said, made me feel like my motivation was twisted, made me feel greedy, which flew in the face of my original reason for becoming involved.

I stayed emotionally drained, stressed out, anxious. It just didn't feel good anymore, and I had to weigh my prospects. Was it worth losing $1000+ a month or so (when you add up all the income I was receiving due to my continued involvement) to stay true to my self and my beliefs as to what was right for me personally.

Yes. Yes it was. Being true to myself and following my own heart about what was right for me is worth more than any amount of money. So I quit.

Don't get me wrong, it was hard. H-A-R-D!!! I was shooting myself (and possibly my family too) in the foot financially in the big picture, as well as walking away from someone I loved dearly. But I *had to* walk away, because she had her own interests to look out for, and despite how much we cared about each other and the cause, we just weren't on the same page anymore - and her personality is just stronger than mine, and I knew she'd talk me into staying, or coming back again.

I had to cut the strings and walk away... mostly without so much as an explanation.

But here's the thing. I miss the movement. I walked away and STOPPED PRACTICING THE PHILOSOPHY. So not fair - the movement is WONDERFUL, and it brought SO MUCH joy and gratitude into my life. It improved my attitude, my outlook on life. It made me a happier person with a more fulfilled spirit.

So I'm no longer involved with the actual official site anymore, but by g-d I'm recommitting to the practice, and started last night, by donating $10 to a charity cause a friend is supporting.

Feels good to re-start. And thank goodness, it feels good again, and maybe I can give myself the opportunity to redeem myself in my own eyes.

addendum, on another note...

We (or should I say *I*) had a very busy day. It started out with shopping for baby stuff for a baby shower for a co-worker, then a shower, then gift bags and bows and tissue paper. Then lunch with another co-worker before the shower. Then my sister and my nephews and niece came by (yup, she needed something - as usual) then, at roughly 7:30 on a Sunday night, I realized we hadn't had dinner. Off we ran to McDonalds because it was a quick fix for the time crunch.

On the way home, something came on the radio that Kassi hated and she asked us if we'd change stations. The child is convinced that she owns the damned radio in the car. So, we changed it, to the 80's channel or some other shit we'd never listen to, you know, just to torture her. Of course I sang loudly, and badly, and we all laughed and acted silly. Well, you remember that song "Just Dance" by Lee Ann Womack? The one she supposedly wrote to her young daughter? Well it came on, and Terra listened for a minute and said, quite out of the blue, "When I hear this song, it makes me think about Alexis."

And then I cried. I haven't had that sort of unexpected emotional outburst in a while. It's been nearly 9 years since Alexis died - the years dull the edges. But this one, god, it was such a damned surprise. What in the world made Terra think of Alexis during that song!? Sure it was from the singer to her daughter, but Terra didn't know that, and the lyrics certainly don't make that obvious.

It was like the Universe decided to play whack-a-mole. *DOINK* right in the head. Sheesh! Of course now I'm a little stuck on the fact that Alexis would be turning 9 this summer. Holy shit where do the years go? Happily I can say that for the most part, I think much more about how old my living children will be turning, and not so much about the sad count of years the others have been gone or how old they should be turning.

Anyway. I think there's going to be a lot of new posts here, at least for a while. Seems I've got a lot of purging to do.

Thanks in advance to those who actually stick around to read my rants and self-pity and general bitching. Maybe I'll get around to some poetry eventually. That'd be a surprise huh?

1st post in a whole different kind of blog for me...

I have to admit, I'm a facebook addict - but really, how much can you say in so few characters? It isn't enough to be the cathartic therapy that true blogging is for me. And rightnow in my life, I need a place to vent, a way to release, and a platform on which I can talk myself through to the resolution of my issues. Oh and the issues are many lately!

It's funny, I thought when Terra started Kindergarten, I'd be starting a new chapter in my life. All of a sudden I find myself in a 3 br house, with all 5 of my children living back home - the oldest 2 are adults, and came with their wife/fiance... and one has a baby on the way. Let's do a head count, 'k? Scott and I and our three younger kids Kassi (15) Bren (12) and Terra (6) then Kory (19) moved back in, with his fiance Angela (19) and Tommy (20) and his wife Alec (20) who is expecting their first child in September - plus 2 small dogs, a pit bull mix (indoor dogs) and one husky mix (outside). Then Angela moved out... but she actually stays here most of the time anyway.

And all of a sudden, my house is absolute chaos all.the.damn.time. My younger 3 used to be well behaved, followed the rules, and were perfectly capable of being here alone for a few hours without any major incidents. Now, even with all the extra adults in the house, the younger ones are completely out of control if Scott and I both are out of the house. We both work, out of necessity. There are times when I've left for work, but Scott isn't home from his job yet. Guess what? Those are the times I get phone calls at work about how bad the kids are being, or how they won't listen, or aren't following the rules.

Dear god help us. They can't "control" my pretty-damn-well-behaved-if-I-do-say-so-myself 6 year old, what are they going to do when they have their very own child to care for?

So Kory has a really great job, with benefits, and serious advancement opportunity. He and Angela will be moving out into their own place within a month. I'm hoping that pans out, but to be honest, I'm not holding my breath - honestly, I'm not sure he'll be able to afford it just yet. We'll see.

Tommy's job, well, he does pretty much the same thing Kory does but for a shittier company for less pay, and doesn't get a lot of hours. He was out of work for a long time, so I'm glad he has a job, but this one really isn't helping him and his wife get on their feet. No way in H-E-Double Hockey Sticks that job is going to support the THREE of them - and his wife refuses to even consider getting a job. She's much too busy being pitifully pregnant.

My job is sucking lately, and I'd love to look forward to coming home. But home is a messy place, full of way too many people who don't clean up after themselves or pitch in to keep the house running smoothly. And, it smells like fucking dogs in here damn it.

I want my life back!

to blog... or not to blog. That *IS* the question

now to come up with the answer.