Dealing with the Problem

 

I got a gift card to a Christian bookstore for Christmas. I have a Bible I really like. I have a cover I really like. I don’t need a cross necklace or a shirt that seems to be about the video game Halo at first glance, and then upon reading you find out is actually a Bible verse. I don’t listen to much Christian music. I found some artwork I kind of liked, but, Brad is going through a “if you are Christian, you shouldn’t have to advertise it!” thing right now, and wrinkled his nose, and especially since I didn’t love the paintings, I left them there. But, I found these mugs. They were cute. And, they were the size I like for my morning coffee. And, they were heavy. Not the kind that burn your hands when you microwave them. So, this is what I bought.

Now, speaking of loving my husband, I thought I’d update after my last post. Brad really was driving me nuts when I wrote that. But, how to deal? So, I had a nice long talk with myself. I think I avoid being put in the crazy bin over these one-sided conversation because they are reasonable. Was he really doing anything wrong? No, he was not. Was he a jerk? No. Was I really mad at him or was he a safe place to direct some anger? Crap…maybe he doesn’t deserve this. But then, I’d try to find other things to be mad at him about. So, he’d deserve it.

And, I decided to stop it. If I loved him, which I do. And, if I wanted to have a happy marriage, which I do, then I couldn’t go around looking for trouble. I decided while I was still very frustrated with him, and being very vocal about how frustrated I was, that I was being kind of a jerk, and I had told him plenty that was wrong, but little that was right. He went back to work, and I started writing him e-mails. One a day. Sometimes I started in the morning and added to it throughout the day, sometimes it was rushed in the few minutes before we talked on the phone at night. But, he got an e-mail everyday telling him sometimes specific I loved or appreciated about him.

He’s home now for the holidays, so, the e-mails stopped. But, I am not as annoyed or as short-tempered this time. And, instead of looking for problems, I’ve actually been taking note of little things to tell him I love, to keep up the e-mails once in awhile. It seems to have helped, and I’m enjoying doing it. And, the temptations from November seem to be gone. I’m pretty excited about it.

Point of View

I keep reading about how Facebook and social media are partially to blame for people having depression. How people only show the good stuff, and are basically “bragging” or “self-promoting”. Here are 2 links, but there are many more you can search for.

Facebook Envy

Facebook and Self Esteem

I can see how these arguments make sense. If your life is kind of sucky right now, you don’t want to see your friends vacations and you will get envious. However, I question whether Facebook is causing envy and depression because of all these people showing off. Or, if the people who are having negative effects from Facebook are more likely to be depressed and envious anyway.

I hate that positive people are seen as bragging. I’ve been working on my attitudes, and trying to become more positive. No, my life isn’t perfect, and often it is quite boring. That doesn’t mean there aren’t good things, even if they are little. That doesn’t mean there isn’t anything beautiful in the mundane. About a month ago we were involved in a car accident. Aussie had some burns and torn up skin on his arm. I had an asthma attack (powder from the air bags) and a broken foot. We had been coming home after going with Aussie for work in PA. We didn’t have to go, he could have flown. But, we did, can’t change it now. It isn’t going to stop us from driving anywhere again. I got asked “was it worth it?” Yes, it was. We saw amazing east coast scenery and forests that looked like paint had been spilled on them. We got to stay in a really nice hotel. We got to spend a couple extra days with Aussie. And,nobody was really seriously injured. Yes, I mentioned the wreck on Facebook. But, there were 5 other positive, good posts. I didn’t post a picture of the car, I posted this.

 

That picture up top? The pond and the weeping willow? I see that every morning on my walk. It is maybe 2 blocks from my house. It’s pretty. I had a lot of people tell me how pretty it was, asking where it was. It is pretty. I was posting the pretty. I suppose, to be real I should have turned around and taken a picture of the houses with the metal fences. I should have zoomed out so you could see the goose poop all over the sidewalk. I should have shown you, that weeping willow is draped over the sidewalk, really, quite in the way. If you ride your bike, you will either go in the pond, hit the fence, or get slapped in the face with branches. I should have shown you, on the other side of the hill ,across the pond, is the interstate. And, under the interstate is a railroad track. You can stand and see the pretty view, and hear honking and train whistles, and one time I even heard a semi truck accident.

When we posted pics from our honeymoon, I posted one from Belize. Because we found Belize kind of scary.

I have my truck up for sale, and got a “new” car. Wow, totally something to be jealous of. I posted a picture of it. Then, Aussie got one too. Like, 2 weeks later. All I said was we got new cars. I didn’t say why, I didn’t say because we’d kind of been living right on the edge of our means, and trading to 2 G6s meant we saved about $300/month on gas, $50/month on a car payment, AND will have the one paid off in the spring, rather then 4 years from now, like with Aussie’s truck. So, we’ll save even more on a car payment. We both hated to see the Jeep go, but, this is life, we ended up with a couple nice cars that we like, so, make do and make the best of it.

Is this being inauthentic? Or is it just looking at the good? We did have a good time in PA. That spot is pretty. We do like our cars, and they were new to us.

I think everybody should start posting “bragging” photos. If people started looking for the good, they’d find it. Don’t envy your friend going to the fancy restaurant for dinner, post a picture of the perfect french toast you made for dinner. Don’t get pissy because I posted a picture of our vacation to the mountains, when you LIVE in the mountains, or within an hours drive of the ocean.  Yes, I’ve been on about 10 trips so far this year. A vast majority of them to a. either see my husband at work or b.visit family. So, don’t be envious or depressed. Post pictures of your family, who you only had to walk across the street to say hi. Post photos of your husband and kids eating dinner together on a Tuesday night. I’ll tell you, those ones make me slightly envious. Don’t put down your neighborhood, find a pretty spot and enjoy it.

Nobody’s life is perfect all the time. I promise. So, stop being envious over what you are seeing, because you don’t know the whole story. And, please try to go find some good, and some pretty in your own life. I promise it’s there. I think it is kind of hard to feel depressed and envious when you are finding good things in your life. And, if you find yourself honestly becoming depressed because of Facebook, your account can be deactivated for a time. I have had to before. Your stuff will all be there when you go back. Just get some space.

And, speaking of finding the good. Go watch the video I’ll link at the end of the post. It’s safe for work.  We see all the time on the news terrible stories. We see security footage of people being robbed, of children being abducted, of car wrecks. But, there is good security footage as well.

Positive Security Footage.

Weighty Topics

 

I am currently down 22 pounds from when I got married, about 15 months ago.

A huge majority of that has been lost over the last 3 months.

You know, when I started dating Aussie, I wouldn’t let him know how much I weighed. In fact, I wouldn’t tell him until maybe a year ago. Somewhere in my head, I had decided that if he knew how much I weighed, he’d think I was fat and not be interested anymore.

We went on a road trip yesterday, and were able to talk a lot. It’s one of the reasons I love road trips with him. I read an article about how “thigh gap” is the coveted thing among teen age girls. And, how so many are not able to attain it, no matter how little they weigh. I told him, I wished I could tell all teenagers, and many adults, it takes all kinds of kinds. Whatever you look like? Odds are good there is someone out there who is attracted to that. Aussie was talking about how guys don’t feel as much pressure to be thin, they don’t keep their weight a secret, but, there is pressure to find the right body type girl. If you don’t, then there must be something wrong with you. If a guy likes a chubby girl, or if that is his type, he is ridiculed. He might date her anyway,but, makes sure to tell his friends that you know, she’s really great. Except for maybe that weight thing. I thought it was interesting. Luckily for us, we met in our late twenties and a bit of the pressure was off. He was free to date a chubby chick, I was free to date a computer geek and we are happy and our friends are happy for us.

I wish weight was not such a taboo subject. I was asked once when the baby was due. i wasn’t pregnant. I remember crying and wanting Aussie to tell me he liked me, fat and all. And, he could not do it. Because you are not allowed to ever acknowledge someone is fat. He basically kept saying I had a great personality and was beautiful, so he loved me. Like, fat girls can’t be beautiful? And, it used to drive me insane when he’d argue with me when I said I was fat/needed to lose weight. I would think to myself “I want to zip line with our son. I am too fat to do so, therefor, I need to lose weight.” and he’d insist I didn’t. We talked about that yesterday, he said that of course he said that, that is what boys are supposed to say. If you say anything else, the woman will be hurt and upset, and either starve herself or become suicidal, so, you never say that. All girls are beautiful and thin. Both of those “issues” with us have long since been resolved. He doesn’t go around going “wow, you look super fat today baby.” but, he doesn’t argue with me about it anymore either. And, I’m good with that.

I thought it was incredibly interesting back when I was dating, before Aussie. I did a lot of online dating. It was VERY common to see a man with a “no fatties” disclaimer on his page. So, I never wrote to those guys. But, quite often they wrote to me.  I reminded them, they weren’t interested in me. I was fat. And, they always said “Well, I didn’t mean you!” I had full length pictures up. I asked what they meant, and it usually was something like

• I just didn’t want somebody really fat, like, over 200 pounds. (Which I was)
• I just didn’t want somebody lazy, you don’t sound lazy.
• I just wanted somebody really pretty, I didn’t care about the weight, and you are really pretty.

And, almost as often as I saw “no fatties” I saw “no girls over 130 pounds” and I think to myself now, so many women are so secretive about their weight, that I don’t even think guys know what they are looking for. Because I dated a lot of “no over 130” guys too.

I read an interesting article recently, about how women don’t know what they want. For a quick summary, almost exclusively, women say they want a tall man. Why? I’m 5’3″. I don’t need a 6′ tall man to be bigger than me.  Basically, what women really wanted, was a man with confidence, a man who would sweep them off their feet, a man who made them feel small and petite, a man who made them feel protected. Shorter men, like a 5’5″ one, who is still taller than me, but, has been told for years he isn’t “tall enough” is not going to be as confident, he isn’t going to feel as much like he is a big protector, so, he’s less likely to act like one, which in turn, turns women off, which ruins his confidence even more, and on and on it goes.

So, what is really behind this “no fat chicks” attitude men have? Oh, I’m sure many guys aren’t interested purely on looks, and that’s fine. But, the fat “stereotype” I think is the problem. Well, if you are fat, then obviously you don’t do anything except sit around and watch tv and eat. It means you are lazy, with no self control, and are just going to continue to balloon until you need rolled out of the house. And, who want that? I think, often when people say no fatties, what they mean is, I want somebody confident. I want somebody pretty. I want somebody who will hike in the woods with me. I want somebody who will swim off my boat. I want somebody I can wrestle on the sofa with over the remote. If we need one more person for the baseball game, I’d like her to join in. I don’t want to spend my weekend watching a lifetime movie marathon. I like salads! And,all those desires translate into “I only want a skinny partner.” Even though, many people don’t actually care.

I once heard a conversation, where people were arguing over fat people. One guy said it was just a lack of will-power. A woman told about her best friend, who had thyroid issues, now is super overweight, and just can’t lose the weight. He retorted with “well, it’s still will power. If she just ate a little healthier, and walked to the mailbox instead of driving, she’d still be fat, but not as fat!” Again, with the stereotypes. Unless you know somebody, you don’t know what they do, or go through. I remember weighing 260 and being yelled at and ridiculed. I now weigh 225.  I’m still fat. I do Zumba for 11 hours every week. I rarely drink soda. I count calories, and park at the end of the parking lot and get in at least 10,000 steps a day. A little here, and a little there, and a little at a time, and I’ve lost weight. But, to someone who doesn’t know me, who saw me being wheeled around the store in a wheelchair last week due to a broken foot, they might think the same thing, that if I just tried I wouldn’t be so heavy.

Like I told Aussie yesterday, I need to lose weight, because my personality doesn’t work with my size. I like adventure, I crave adrenaline rushes. I want to try the new roller coaster, and I want to zip line, and I want to drive the tiny sports car, without the seat pushed back for my tummy to fit, I want to sit next to my son, who isn’t getting any smaller, on the carnival ride, I want to know I’ll fit anywhere I want to be. I want to hike and walk and go through caves with itty bitty openings between the rocks. I fly every few months, I don’t want to wonder if the seatbelt will fit.

Yes, I am currently fat. But, it is a description, same as short, and dark haired and blue eyed and pretty. A description, not an insult. And, I’m not always going to be fat. And, since I said i wished it wasn’t always so taboo…I’ll start. I weigh 225. I’m 5’3″. Today, I cried in the dressing room because I slid on a pair of size 16 jeans for the first time in about 5 years, after working SO damn hard to lose weight.

For the Good of the Kids

My semester ends Wednesday. One more math test. I have fought and struggled. Last night I took the final math quiz 4 times. There were almost 100 questions on it. I took it over and over until I ran out of time. I’m getting a B overall. If I can just pass this last test. Then, one more semester.

Today I would like to say, if I never hear the words “best for the kids” again, it will be too soon.

It’s the “cuz God” argument all over again.

The moment you say something is best for the kids, or because God said, you have shut down the conversation. You have made anyone who disagrees with you a bad person, because they don’t care about “the good of the kids”.

I see it ALL the time on the infidelity board I am a member of. People go on and on and on about how whatever they want is for the good of the kids. “I want to put my kid in soccer, it’s what’s best for the kids. But, my ex won’t drive him to practice!” Somebody says “Then you drive him.” and all of a sudden it is “NO! I will NOT drive him. My ex is a parent too, and he doesn’t just get to run off into the sunset, and I’m not doing it all on my own, and he can waste his own gas, let his whore see  how much works kids really are!”

Ummm…what happened to “best for the kids”?

The best advice I can give someone going through a divorce, or trying to raise kids while divorced is this:

Your spouse is dead. That person you loved and trusted, who could never hurt you? Completely dead. You are now single, and unfortunately the only babysitter you can find at times, while free, is a person who looks oddly like your ex. There is no past to discuss with this stranger.

I know, you are sitting there thinking “I’m just supposed to let them get away with the things they did to me?” No, you are supposed to know that, they will never see that they did anything to you. When you go nuts, they will feel justified in all the things they did. His new gf and he will giggle over his crazy ex and how you deserved all he did. And really…if it is REALLY all about the kids, then, why complain about picking them up from soccer? Why are you concerned about punishing your ex?

I get blasted by my friends fairly often because I am willing to pick up the kids on Sundays around my ex’s work schedule. And, I shouldn’t do that, I should stick to the schedule, he’s just making me do whatever he wants, he needs to see there are consequences for the things he has done, I am not supposed to just drop everything so he doesn’t have to find a babysitter.

Again, I thought it was all about best for the kids. And, isn’t it best that they come home when their dad has to go to work? Or is it better for them to stay with whoever he’s sleeping with this week, and constant changing rules? Best for the kids says they can come home, where their things are, where they are comfortable, where they are with people who love them.

Do what you want, but quit pretending it is all “for the kids”.

Bad influences

This song came on the radio the other day, when my oldest informed me that he loved that song. I said, I liked it to, and I hoped they were watching the right people and learning the right things. My younger one piped up and said “Yeah mommy, we are. We are learning from Brad that you have to take care of your family. That you have to do a good job in school and get a good job. That you work hard and you can buy the things you want. And you don’t have to yell and scream all the time!” I asked the 8 yr old what he learned and he told me “We learned from daddy, that sometimes you will get fired for making one little mistake so why even bother trying to do a good job. And if you are in a relationship that doesn’t make you happy, then you need to leave it and find a girl who will make you happy.” I should say here that their dad was fired from 10 jobs within 2 years. He had at least 4 girlfriends I know about while we still lived together, and in the 5 yrs he’s been gone, he’s lived with 5 different women, but moved 15 times. (At least)

I was mad. I told them, as calmly as I could that first of all, almost nobody gets fired for “one little mistake” and that if you are doing something you need to do your best, if you mess up you need to take responsibility for it and man up and take the consequence, and learn from it. I also told them that a relationship wouldn’t make them happy, if they loved a girl only for how happy she made them, then it was for the wrong reasons. That you can’t count on someone else making you happy, because people aren’t perfect, they will not always make you happy. I told them if they were dating a girl and found that she wasn’t right for them, then they should end the relationship, but, they shouldn’t live with every girl they meet, and if they are married, then it is their responsibility to go to their wife and say “we have a problem, will you help me fix it?” Not just replace the woman and think it was all better.

You know, I can accept most the unfairness of divorce. I can accept he doesn’t pay child support, and I deal with the fact he ignores the court order to provide them with health insurance. I have even come to terms with the fact he abused me, but the court still decided he was ok to have unsupervised visitation. However, I’m really struggling with the fact he is allowed to warp their minds with his bullshit. He is allowed to do these things that have lasting impact and I am allowed to do nothing to stop it. If they boys had a babysitter that taught them this garbage, or a teacher, everyone would support me changing that. But, he’s their dad, so, whatever he says is cool?

This is the same man who tried to take the kids from me based on the fact he THOUGHT the religion we were didn’t allow Christmas and he’s not ok with that, so, I shouldn’t have them. But I have to stand by silently while he tells them they don’t even have to try to do a good job at work? This is the same man who tried to take the kids from me on the basis of I didn’t feed them enough hamburger. Yes, I am serious. Nevermind the fact that for the last FIVE YEARS he has lived with women who already have kids and only a 2 bedroom apartment, or gotten his own one bedroom apartments. For FIVE YEARS our children have not had a bedroom or a bed when they visit their dad. Right now they sleep on an air mattress on the floor. You know who bought the air mattress? ME!

What I really want to tell the kids is the truth. I want to point out how stupid his advice is. He is THIRTY YEARS OLD. Why can he not manage to get his own place? Why can he not provide our kids with beds? He told them he’s buying another truck, so he will have two, one from driving every day and one for off roading. But he can’t buy them a freakin’ bed. Why can’t a 30 yr old keep a job? Why can’t he manage a relationship? I want to point out, that following Brad’s example = good job, money, 2 nice cars, 2 project cars, lots of travel, lots of fun things, a nice, new house, dinner out when you feel like it, museum memberships, good relationship, etc. Ex’s example=Sleeping on women’s couches until  you can convince them to have sex with you, then you are “in a relationship”, cars that leave you stranded all the time, being too broke for McDonalds. A long string of “true love” failed relationships, lots of yelling and fighting, being homeless, lots of run ins with the law, “vacations” that consist of driving an hour to the beach for the day then coming home. Oh, and not taking care of your children, so, you go to court for that as well.

I really hope they are both smart enough to realize Brad’s example is the one to follow.But, I still hate that ex is allowed to be such a bad influence and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. I can’t even talk to him, because he truly believes what he says. He believes I have been the source of all his problems for the last 10 yrs. Even though, he’s been gone for 5, and if I’m such a bad person, then how come I’m coming out ahead. I don’t impact his life anymore at all, so, shouldn’t he start crawling out of the hole I supposedly pushed him in? 5 yrs should be enough time for a start.

Feeling Let Down

I struggle to write what is on my mind, because I feel like it makes me sound so…stuck up? Full of myself? I’m not sure, I’m just fairly sure I don’t come across as I would like to, as I mean to.

You know the Bible verse, the one about leaving your parents and cleaving to your spouse?  We are still in the newlywed category, and to be honest, I didn’t expect either family to make it quite so easy. Neither one of us has a huge amount of friends, but, we both have huge families. And, I think we are both feeling sad and dissapointed lately.

 

Yeah, exactly how I’m feeling.

I won’t tell Aussie’s story, because it isn’t mine to tell. But, I will tell some of mine. I started algebra this semester. I’ve taken this class 4 or 5 times. I fail every time. I’ve taken the remedial math, I’ve done all the homework, and then some. I’ve been to tutoring, I’ve asked for help, I’ve spoken to the teachers. I just don’t get it. So, I try again.

And, this class is now bringing up HUGE feelings of disappointment and resentment towards my family. My parents especially.

I was homeschooled. I never got much of a reason why. Actually, let me rephrase, I had a continuously changing reason why, that ebbed and flowed with the passing trends that made public schools “bad”. When I could counter their arguments, I was told that was never the reason, they never said that, and the real reason was XYZ. What are some of these reasons?

• I was too smart for public school.
• I was bored.
• I might be around bad influences.
• Prayer has been taken out of schools.
• God has been taken out of schools.
• They teach evolution!
• I was unhappy there, apparently.
• My sister hated going to school, so obviously it was bad.
• School shootings!!!
• God told them to take me out of school.
• Public schools were/are sinful and God commands us not to sin just because it is popular.

I am sure there are a lot more, but, you get the idea. Homeschooling to my mom meant she slept in until 11, talked to her friend on the phone for a couple hours a day, handed me a stack of books and told me I was responsible for independent study. I have a 17 yr old brother who is practically illiterate, and a sister I think may have dyslexia. But, nobody must know, you can’t get help, because then people MIGHT think you aren’t doing things right and put the kids in school!

I ran away when I was 12ish. I told them my dad was abusive, and my parents were not home schooling us. They were handing over books, and only noticing when pages were completely blank. Nothing ever got checked. I told them about my siblings. I told the police, I told CPS, I told the judge, I told family. I was terrified, and a child. My parents would call me, screaming “You’re a fucking liar!” Nobody ever asked to see the books, nobody ever checked in on anything. My grandma had to put me in therapy to get me past the “family therapy” my parents put me in. Which consisted of all 3 adults calling me a liar, and trying to get to the root cause of why I was a liar. Except I wasn’t.

3 months later the judge sent me home. Did I mention, the judge was friends with my parents? Yeah, stupid preteen me didn’t know enough to point out how wrong this was. We started going to his church a few months later.

So, I went home. Nothing changed on the school front, but, my dad got less abusive, especially to everyone else, so, I counted at least that part as well worth all the trouble. And, I decided I was getting out of there. I did my homework, I struggled through math. When I asked for help, my parents told me they didn’t understand. When I asked for them to get me help, we couldn’t afford it. When their friends offered to help, my parents complained about how far it was to drive, and how if I was struggling so bad, maybe I could just skip the ONE youth group activity I was allowed a month so I could study more. So, when 14 yr old me was offered this choice, obviously, I choice to skip tutoring. Which, obviously meant, I understood the work, I just wasn’t willing to do it. My junior year of high school, I took the answer book. My mom never noticed. It wasn’t to cheat, it was to check my work, then to rework it until I understood it. I spent hours working on this. Nobody ever knew.

I graduated a yr early, and got a full ride scholarship to the big state school. It was the worst thing I ever did. Because, my parents have spent the last 10 yrs saying that obviously they do an amazing job at homeschooling, and obviously it is superior to all other schooling, because, well, look at Punkie.

Oddly, they never mention Punkie flunked out her first semester. Got ALL Fs.

They never mention Punkie has failed algebra 5 times now. And, has no idea what is going on, no idea how to understand. The ass backwards ways I taught myself in high school are screwing me over now.

You know, I’ve spent the last 15 yrs trying to take responsibility for my failures, trying to own my own shit, trying to not blame others. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of taking responsibility for problems that I didn’t cause.

I cringe whenever I see one of my siblings facebook posts. My one sister is trying to start a photography business, and has a page for it. Nothing is spelled right. My other sister works at Salvation Army because the pay is amazing. My little brother had to take the ASVAB test 4 times before he BARELY got a high enough score to get into ANY military branch. My other brother, the 17 yr old, reads the helicopter books I bought for my 8 yr old when he thinks nobody is looking. But, never any other book.

I have another younger brother, he’s a teenager, and yesterday I told my mom, over the weekend I did about 250 math problems. I was assigned 60, but I am really trying to pass. My mom said “I guess we know who can help with math now!” then she tells me about my brother, how he’s so good at math. He never follows the instructions, but gets the right answer. Just like me. I told  her, that is really, really causing problems for me now. I explained why. She laughed and said “Well, I just have to get him through high school, college can teach him what he really needs to know.”

I could have about cried.

I’ve offered to teach the kids. If you look at my kids school work…I spend HOURS every week, preparing for the next week. I spend hours teaching them, going over things over and over again. I actually grade all the work. I have a lesson plan. I have a base curriculum and add to it, to make my own, making some things more difficult. Adding pages where I know they struggle. I’ve offered…my mom doesn’t want to spend the gas money. Her and dad can go out to eat a few times a week, but, can’t spend $4 a day to bring the kids over for help.

I’m so angry that I am paying for their choices now. I’m so angry that nobody listened to me when I tried to get help. I’m so angry that it is too late for my siblings. I’m angry that my family is almost PROUD of being ignorant. Of the fact they don’t need no college. I’m angry my brothers don’t even realize how much they don’t know. I’m angry they have been unknowingly sentenced to a lifetime of factory work or retail, without their consent. I’m angry that I struggle so much with some of these subjects, but, I certainly can’t complain, because then I hear about how if I was really concerned I would have studied and not signed the boys up for sports, so I would have more time. And, I’m angry all the times I do well, I am held up as the poster child for all the great things about homeschooling. My parents had nothing to do with any of the things I am good at. I taught myself! I had to!

You know what? I’m not that freaking special or smart or successful. Actually, I take it back, I am smart. I decided to do better, and I did. But, I somehow saw there was more to life than what my parents taught us. I’m the only one who did. I’m not special, I’m not successful. I look like it. I look like a spoiled brat most the time. I’ve got a great relationship, and two kids that are somehow amazing, in spite of all they have been through. And, I can’t even talk about my life, because I sound so stuck up. I just got back from a trip to Montana, right after the trip to Florida, and I leave for a cruise in about 6 weeks. I’ve got a Tiffany box sitting on my coffee table, and a pile of clothes with the tags still on them. I went out for coffee almost every day this summer. And, I’m not saying this to brag, I’m not. I’m using to to show, how “look at Punkie!” has become a source of pride for my parents. They miss that they coerced me into marrying an abusive asshole the first time. They don’t seem to get it… all this great stuff? It has NOTHING to do with me, nothing. It is a result of Aussie’s success. HIS parents can use it as an argument for homeschooling. Mine can not. Because, it has NOTHING to do with me, and FAR less to do with them and their teaching skills. And to be honest, a huge majority of my spoiled persona has cost us practically nothing. Airlines give lots of free perks, as do hotel chains, and rental car companies. When the company pays for the Starbucks, and you can give your wife the card, she gets the free syrups and refills and extra perks. So, again, I’d like to say, don’t judge me too harshly on this one, because if the company Aussie worked for didn’t allow him to keep the perks, and instead made him use frequent flier miles to get to work, or that sort of thing, we would look exactly like every other young couple with a couple kids.

I do’t even know what the point of writing this was. I just needed to get it all out. I am so angry and so resentful right now. I feel like I’m outgrowing my family and it’s a lonely feeling.

A Garden Project, continued

I was on a slight hiatus from blogging. First, I was busy outside, then I was bored, so, I drove here…

What? Where do you go when you are bored?

It isn’t too bad, less than a 10 hr drive. I was there for 2 days, and drove home in time to get my kids back this weekend. I fully intended to blog a bit there, because there have been several things recently that leave me with a lot of material to write about, but I only took the iPad, and I forgot my keyboard at home, and I don’t like writing anything substantial with the touch screen.

Anyway, I spent last weekend working on my gardens.

Here is the “before” picture of a small garden between the sidewalk and the house.

I have no idea what those green bushes are, but they are all the negatives of a vine and a bush, and none of the positives.

Those things were climbing up BEHIND the siding. And they are ugly and spread, and look worse when you trim them, and if your neighbor is inconsiderate and lets garbage blow all over the place, they are really handy garbage catchers. Not one of the main things I look for in a plant. So, we had to dig them out, and by we, I mean I watched Aussie while telling him what to do. I have several hunky pictures of Aussie working on this little project, however, he doesn’t want to be identified. So, you will have to settle for this picture.

The love of my life

Anyway, we woke up Sunday morning and decided we needed this project. We went to the garden center, and piled 1,700 pounds of material into the truck. (And by we, I do mean we.) Then, we paid for it, and pushed it all out to the truck, where we picked up and loaded the same 1,700 pounds of material. You should have seen my truck, it looked ridiculous. We drove home, where we then unloaded 1,700 pounds of material from the truck. And then we moved them for the last time, as they were put into place.

Would you believe there is actually a sidewalk under all that dirt?

Aussie did an AMAZING job. He happens to be a bit of a perfectionist, which means it takes him forever to do anything, but when he does, the results are incredible. All those blocks are level. I would have just stacked them and hoped for the best. All the old dirt and mulch and ugly plants were loaded back into the truck to be hauled to my parents. Then my poor truck needed washed.

The car wash floor, that was clean when I got there. My truck is still muddy and filthy, by the way.

Now, for the finished project!

In my infinite wisdom, I started this project during on eof the hottest weeks in our history. My poor plants.

I am SO happy with how it all turned out.

My wedding

I am working on a real blog post, just having trouble wording it correctly.

But, anyway, I am so excited. Wedding plans are coming together SO well. Which amuses me since we aren’t even engaged yet. Anyway so far

• I have my wedding dress bought
• We have Aussie’s clothes bought
• I have picked my bridesmaid
• we got her dress
• I have my shoes
• I know how I’m doing my hair.
• We decided on Panama City Beach to get married
• Grandma Rita is going to help me get things around, since she is down there a lot and I am not.
• I bought Aussie’s wedding ring
• he says he knows what engagement ring he’s getting me.
• he booked our honeymoon. A cruise, we’re going to, I believe, Mexico, Belize, and some islands, I can’t remember which ones though.
• Which means, we are getting married, most likely October 11, 2012.
• I’ve met his mother.
• Picked out the kids outfits (they are walking me down the “aisle”)
• I have my bouquet.

So, basically, now all we need to do is actually get engaged, send invitations (which are already bought), get a FL marriage licence, he’s got to pick his best man, and decide if we are getting married early or late in the day.

Remind me, it is ok that this has went so easily. I’m not used to things just coming together, I’m afraid everything is going to fall apart, and there is a chance of a catastrophe at the wedding, I know. (MIL having to spend time with FIL and new GF, eek!) But, really, we’ve been slowly, doing a little bit here and there for months, so, now, there is very little left to do, and 5 months to do it.

I’m so excited!

Live on Purpose

I just want to say, I really dislike “helpless” people. You know the ones, the perpetual victim.

I hate the phrase “It’s not my fault”. It is right up there with “It just happened”. The other good one is “It isn’t fair!”

I see it a lot from people, people who spend all their time upset because bad stuff just keeps happening to them.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I completely understand, sometimes it just seems like one person has a run of bad luck. Sometimes it gets overwhelming and you just want to pout/whine/yell for awhile. Sometimes you need to send out invitations to the pity party, and that’s ok.

But, when it becomes a way of life, when EVERYTHING is the worst thing ever, maybe you really are the problem. (I am using the collective you, I am not talking to any of my readers specifically.)

I joke with Brad all the time, if you feel you have to remind me ALL the time how much you hate drama, it is probably because you know I won’t notice on my own. Have you ever noticed the people who hate drama the most are always the ones who have so much of it?

Life isn’t just happening to you. When you make a choice, you have to accept the consequences for it. If you answer a text and rear end the car in front of you, that didn’t “just happen” to you. It was because of a choice you made. I know a woman who was upset because her ex-husband kept showing up to run in marathons she was running in, she got a lot of advice, that maybe she should find a different marathon, and she got indignant. Why should SHE have to change things, this was HER race, and it wasn’t FAIR, HE could leave. And please remember, she hates drama. Except, why would he leave? Her running in the marathon didn’t bother him. So, her options were either to ignore him or change marathons. And you would have thought someone told her that her options were to cut off her left or her right arm. She did neither, caused a lot of drama, and then complained how bad things keep happening to her, she keeps seeing him. No, this bad thing was not happening to her, she was choosing to allow it to.

I did go through this whole “Why is this happening to me?” when my ex left. And with time and space, I can see where my mistakes were. I didn’t deserve to have it all happen, but, I could have put a stop to it a million different times. And now, instead of “Why me?” I ask “Why not me?” I honestly think I am pretty amazing, but, I also realize, I’m not that special, I am not a good enough person to even pretend I deserve a perfect life. This is not fishing for compliments from my dear friends, I promise. I’m not having a low self esteem moment, Like I said, I think I’m pretty awesome, I do consider myself a good person, but I am certainly not arrogant enough to believe that entitles me to a life free from crap.

Life is harder to deal with when you are always the victim. When you have no control, it’s easy to spiral out of control. You have to take back the control. If you can accept ANY of the responsibility for the bad, it becomes easier to deal with, because you feel like you can stop something from happening again. You can acknowledge the lessons learned. If you can choose to live in purpose, it is easier and truly nicer than living passively. Letting life happen TO you is no way to go through life.

And, sometimes the changes needed won’t be fun, they won’t be fair, but they will change the situation, and they will change circumstances and you will be taking back some power. You can be right or you can be happy. Live on purpose!

Plants and Life

Forgive me if this sounds too New Age-y, but I’ve been thinking about it all morning.

Positive and negative energy.

I’m sure you’ve heard people joke around about talking to plants. It seems amusing, even I can admit that. It’s been a running joke at our house I can keep cut flowers alive and pretty far longer than I can potted plants. I’ve killed so many plants I may very well be on some sort of EPA watch list. That certainly hasn’t been my goal.

I remember when I first got married, my grandpa gave me a couple Aloe Vera plants. admittedly, those are not hard to grow, but they were alive, even through lack of attention for a few years. Eventually, things went down hill quickly and drastically in my marriage, and the plants both died within weeks. Completely unable to be revived. I remember crying as I threw them away. Our fish died about the same time too. I felt, apparently, I couldn’t keep anything alive, not my marriage, not my fish, not my plants. It was incredibly depressing.

Not one to give up, I’d try again and again. I’d bring plants into this house full of anger and poison, and they would die. Is it any wonder, when I look back I felt parts of me were dying too? DA finally left, I was so heart-broken and angry. I’d keep bringing home plants, just to watch them die, no matter how much attention they were given. I left that house, but kept my attitude…2 yrs of watching daisies and ferns and various other plants turn brown, shrivel up, and die.

I was eventually able to get my own apartment, and because I am stubborn, I bought a little bamboo plant. I watered it and took care of it, and it thrived. I was doing well, and finally getting a handle on things. Winter came, and our heat wasn’t working, and the landlord wouldn’t answer his phone. I had space heaters, but they tended to trip the fuse overnight, so, we’d wake up to a 40 degree house. The kids and I began sleeping in the same bed, with an electric blanket, and 10 other blankets. We considered it a win when we woke up and the house was all of 55 degrees. I began to panic, and wonder if maybe I wasn’t a good mom, maybe the kids should be with their dad. I couldn’t even keep them warm in the winter.  Now, the little bamboo plant started to die. I started staying up at Brad’s more often, because he had heat. Even if he wasn’t home, the kids would be warm. And I left my plant behind. But, I was happy, the kids were happy. When I went home, I’d try to remember to water it, I’d look for the warmest place to put it. I always kind of figured THIS was the day I’d go home, and the plant would be completely dead. But, it kept surprising me.

We finally decided to actually live together. The almost completely brown bamboo plant came with us. And, it found a home in the kitchen, where it somehow slowly turned green again. Deciding to try my luck, I bought an orange and a lemon tree, and put them in the kitchen window. I hoped I’d have them a month. 9 months later they seem to almost double in size every week. I bought 2 more bamboo plants. Bamboo is supposed to be lucky, right? I figured it couldn’t hurt. Again, months later, they are fine. Several weeks ago, the littlest Monster asked for an aloe vera plant. I only found them for about $15 and I didn’t quite trust that my black thumbs had turned green yet.  2 days later I found a small, dying, plant on clearance at the store, for maybe $1, it was the plant he wanted, I also found another plant that looked like it should be beautiful, but it was barely hanging on. I bought them both, brought them home, and replanted them. They are thriving.

I am not surprised. I honestly think my old house was filled with poison. The yelling, the screaming, the lies, the abuse. I think if I hadn’t gotten out when I did, the kids and I would have followed the plants, and little by little we’d die until there was nothing left of us to save. The useful part of me would just dry up, like the gel in the plants leaves, while the rest of me just tried to survive.

I hate myself sometimes for allowing the kids to live like that as long as I did.  Especially the day I had to tell them daddy wasn’t coming back, and they were relieved.  But now, things have changed. Our new home isn’t full of the hatred the old one was. It’s full of love and it’s happy and comfortable. The boys have cousins with much bigger houses, and huge yards, who want to come here and play because they “love it here”. My mom comes here to relax. And, it always surprises me, because, I’m proud of our little house, but, it’s no show place. When we have a party, you practically have to stack the people. But people like to be here. We like to be here. There isn’t any more yelling and screaming and fighting. Even the bad days are handed respectfully.

And the kids, the plants and myself, are thriving.

That first little bamboo plant sits in the kitchen, if you look closely, it is actually 3 plants, one is beautiful, one is doing great, but still carries some scars from the bad times the base of the plant is poor, but it has new growth coming from it, and the third twists around one, completely gone and beyond repair. Brown and dry. I suppose I could trim it back, or completely cut it off, but, I don’t. I keep it as a reminder. Maybe I’m reading too much into my plants, but, this little plant is my reminder for how to live. That you can go through a lot of bad, but, you can pull through and still be beautiful in spite of your scars. And, the perfect one, if how we can aspire to be. And that dead one is a reminder of how neglect and hate can destroy a life. How bad energy can suck the good right out. How, just showing up once in awhile and doing the bare minimum isn’t enough. You actually have to put some effort in, some love in. Here is my little bamboo plant I’ve had for about a year and a half now. Pretty good for someone who has never been able to keep a plant alive longer than a couple weeks!

And, now, wish me luck, because today I planted a small window sill herb garden and am really hoping I do , in fact, have a green thumb.