So I expected...

Ya know. When ya turn a new decade and yer life feels like its in the shitter and you just can't believe you got this far and feel this low. You kinda expect to squeeze into the new decade kinda like this guys face:

But. Everything's the same.

I feel the same. My job still sucks. I am still stuck in a rotten situation at work that I can't get out of and I am the same person as yesterday. Crying during my commute.

Big whoop.

Why did I work myself up into a frenzy.

Yes, I need to make a change. And I don't yet know what that change is.
Yes, I need to maintain balance in this life and continue to find joy in the small stuff.
Yes, I have the greatest little girl and husband in the whole wide world.
Yes, I know.

But at least I don't  look like this guy.

I'm 40 Today

I haven't really said it out loud to many people. I'm still in denial.

 Most days I feel 21. Some days I feel 80. Today, I'm just happy to be here.

 I've seen so many people my age not make it past 40 that I just feel grateful that I'm here.

 I'm struggling, yes. I am trying to *still* find my way. But I'm here and I'm a mom and a wife and a friend and a daughter and a niece and I am grateful for that today.

 Tomorrow, I'll be cranky again.

 But today. I'm 40.

 And my family showed me love, undeniably awesome, and made me feel special. And my husband has been my angel so many times, today is just another one of those times.

 I've received phone calls and texts and emails and facebook posts from friends and they showed me love.

And I feel joy.

Happy Birthday to me.

Is someone watching me?

Oh! By the way. On my 40th bday, this post was featured on Birthtouch.com by Kathy M., the moderator there. Here's the link to the amazing "share your story" segments of her website. Her writeup about my Postpartum experiences makes me proud to be a part of her internet home...if you need help, you can always start there for info...

Enjoy your day. I did.

Bucket Wha?

Am I supposed to have a bucket list?
All the things I want to do/accomplish before I'm 40?

I don't have one.

I don't even have a bucket item.

I'm just perfectly fine in my suburban life. My daughter. My husband. My cat. My home. My (feh.) Job.

What more can I ask for?

I've lost so much in my life. I'm finally content where I am. Why do I need a bucket list?

I don't want to travel.

I don't want to meet anyone famous. (Except Russel Brand and maybe Johnny Depp)

I don't want to DO anything in particular. (Except Russel Brand and maybe Johnny Depp)

I'm perfectly fine.

Why ruin a good thing?

I have one more year until I'm 40. One more year to potentially create a bucket list. I love lists why haven't I created one before?

Any suggestions? Do you have a bucket list?

You say it's your birthday?

Oh god.

I'm old.

It's my birthday and I'm old.

And cranky.

And achy.

But my daughter loves me.
My husband loves me.

My cat loves me.

My family loves me.

My students like me.

My house is still here.

My car works.

My body still functions.

My health is okay.

My head. Well... it's getting there.

So Happy Birthday to me! Damnit.

SE7EN

It's begun.

The horror movie of motherhood.

The Se7en year itch.

One minute I'm the best thing that has ever happened to her, the next, she wants to put my severed head in a cardboard box and mail it to my husband.

What the?

How did this little, easy going lady turn into an academy award winning drama queen?

Is it the year? Really? I wanna know. Is it because she's more aware of the world around her than ever before and let's face it. It's scary. Is it the fact that I am still treating her like a baby? (But she IS a baby!) Does she want to be treated like a "big girl" and how exactly do those things get treated anyhow?

I am at a total loss.

Can you tell?

All I know is I am savoring those moments when she says to me, "Mommy, I don't know what I would do without you in my life!"

Because the next minute she's screaming, "YOU WISH I WAS DEAD! I'LL KILL MYSELF SO YOU WON'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH ME ANYMORE!!!!!" (That's when her head starts spinning and she's cursing me and Jesus and all that is holy.) I'm not kidding.

Those loving moments are still many. Yet, those horror movie dramas are also pretty prevalent in our lives right now. I'll take the good with the bad gladly. But some light shed on the subject of horror movies would benefit everyone in the household. No?

We had a wonderful 7th birthday celebration. It was an "everything I ever wanted in my whole life" kinda celebration. I got much praise for the party, the guests, the food choices...I was a rockstar.

Rock on!

Then, New Year's Eve came rolling around and we rang in the new year at exactly 11:46pm with a knock down, WWE, super tap out cage match. I was devastated that we brought in 2011 with such a scene. Of course, I blame myself. I blame my lack of patience, my lack of motherhood know-how, my lack of a mother to help me out with this crap...And I get down on myself.

But one thing I've learned while 7 crept up behind us...It's not all my fault. Sometimes she's just not gonna get her way, or be happy 24/7, or even accept everything I say as law anymore. Isn't that what growing up is all about. Feeling your oats at 7? Feeling your oats while your daughter feels her oats at motherhood?

I accept the things I can not change. I'm courageous enough to change the things I can. And I have some wisdom to know the difference between the two. I've come a LONG way baby!

I just hope the 7 year old doen't plan on decapitating my in my sleep.

God grant me the serenity 

to accept the things I cannot change; 

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time; 

Enjoying one moment at a time; 

Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;...

--Reinhold Niebuhr

So, I'm married to a 40 year old.

The Big Daddy is the Big 4-0.

I can't believe it. His birthday was about a week ago and it's just hitting me now. He's 40.

That means I have been with him for about a third of his life.

And I gotta say, he's looking pretty damn good.

Happy Birthday Big Daddy. We love you.

December 20th

I can't believe I have a five year old daughter.

It seems like just yesterday she was born.

Now, I'm filling out the paperwork for kindergarten.

How fast does it go, really?

It's been over a month since I've put words to posts here at this blog, and it feels like I was just here yesterday. I miss you all.

In coming back, I find that one very good blogging friend is expecting her third child.

And...

My other very good blogging friend Margaret had a baby on the 17th. I've heard all about her journey from the day she found out she was having this beautiful boy, through some trying and scary stuff and now he's here.

I have hardly any advice for her. Just enjoy each and every moment like it is your last.

I spent the first 3 and a half years wishing my daughter would be old enough to understand. Wishing that the infant would stop crying. Wishing she would grow up. Now, she understands more than I thought possible and I feel I've lost some precious moments in my urge to rush.

She is very excited to be five. But in that excitement and maturity comes understanding. And she says she will miss having someone to "take care" of her. (Like I would ever stop doing that.) She says she worries that I will go to heaven like my mother did to me and she will be a young child, Motherless.

She is way to young to be worried about that stuff. And I have made her worry.

Yes, I have been honest with her about everything and told her all I can regarding her questions about life and love and loss. But she is smart. She puts stuff together that most 5 year olds don't. And I am left once again with guilt.

I know she is just starting to understand and it will all come clear to her one day. But my heart. It hurts for her. Her innocence lost. The time I rushed. The time wasted by wishing it away. Time WE will not get back.

Now here she is. Five. Ready to start her journey of independence. Questioning her role, but loving life. I see me in her. I see myself in her a lot. In the way she looks. Her actions. Her words.

And I want to instill in her the power to trust herself. I am still learning that. I hope we can learn together.

I asked her what her favorite part about being four was. She said she liked when I helped her clean her room. What kid says that?

I asked her what she was looking forward to at five. She wants to be a veterinarian. I love that about her. Time is no concept. And she is confident that whatever she wants she will get. It will not be given to her per se, but she will get it on her own.

She is confident. I love that. That helps her to forgive. Because she knows she is loved. And all you need is love.

I could have a total screaming fit at her for something so silly and in a moment, she has forgotten my madness. Time. Heals all wounds. For some faster than others. For her in an instant. For me, a little longer.

However, this time I have learned. Not to rush anything. And I am enjoying each and every moment of five that I can. I'll never have it again.

I will take this time to savor each flavor of five. The bad times and the overwhelming good times. The tears and the belly laughs.

I am so lucky to have this little girl in my life and I will not let that get passed me. Ever.

So today, I share five with all of you. I hope as a gift to my daughter, you take this moment to hug your children no matter how old. Or how young. Hug your parents, hug your partner, hug yourself.

Understand that time doesn't stop. Time will pass as our lives pass in the blink of an eye. Don't rush it and enjoy it. Envelop your time and keep your time precious in the folds of your soul. It's all we have. Time and Love.

Savor it.

All my love chelle...

I love you all.

Margaret, my dear friend enjoy this time. I wish I could be there to hug you.

Happy Birthday Baby Girl. You are my most precious gift. I'm sorry I will hug you too much today. But you will understand one day. I promise.

I'm showing off again.

We made cards for the pro for his birthday. (And the cake, I know. You can't stand my talents.)

He took Fa's to work with him...Mine are still here...hmmm...

But I'll show you.

This is the inside. It's pop-up.



Why are they not at work with him too?
I guess I know where I stand.

I'm so talented

Celebrating the Pro's birthday was fun. He enjoyed his present: 'Landscaping done for him until the end of the summer'. He said it was the best present he's ever gotten. Yay me.

I got brave and I actually tried to bake a cake. A real one. From a box. But nonetheless edible and frosted.

See:

Nom Nom Nom

Way better than last year's Birthday Blunder which started out alright:



But ended up looking like frosted crap.

Atrocious.

And since I had a whole entire year to contemplate my baking errors...I got creative.

I know. I know. You are amazed at my bakin' skillz.

He was too.

I am even quite the resourceful one when I can't find a piping head that works with the crap-tastic red piping that I bought without reading the label. It was missing a plastic head that piped out the red frosting in a thick tube to make the baseball stitiching...So what did I do you ask?

Thank goodness Fa takes her meds from a spoon now. Looks like something from a horror movie.

Should I start a business? Heh Heh.

You say it's your birthday...

And I'm proud to celebrate you.

Happy Birthday to my husband, my soft cushion to land on, my heart.

You and Fa are my world and I am honored to be a part of both of your lives.

(Can't get much cuter than this.)

Happy Birthday Pro.

I love you.

Fa's heart

Fa insisted we have a party for RT yesterday.

She made me buy him a chewey and wrap it.

She made my buy him a card.

She insisted it have a BT on the cover...

And she signed it (I cut that out) and drew a picture of her on RT's back.

We made cupcakes (he couldn't eat them, they were chocolate) and we had to give him treats to make up for the fact that he couldn't enjoy the cupcakes.

I think he had a good day.

I drew the line at party hats.

Anal Atrocities!

Remember when I told you about how much I've spent on the dog since we got him? Well, if you don't...here it is in a nutshell...

I fucking love having a dog.

Let's do this mathematically, in 21 months I have spent:

$1500.00 for initial purchase of the dog on July 9, 2006
$15.00 Pet Tracking System implant Yearly fee
$80.00 Initial pet visit 7/31 2006
$166.70 First round vaccines/antibitotics for Giardia/Vet Visit 8/7/06
$200.00 Second round vaccines/Giardia Vaccine/Vet Visit 9/11/06
$500.00 for three months of last option Giardia regiment/New Vet Visit 10/2/06
$300.00 Vaccines and vomiting and diarrhea treatment 12/15/07
$330.00 Vet Follow up after Giardia Treatment/Vaccines 1/2/07
$270.00 Vet visit on 4/17 (1st full yearly vaccines and check up)
$670.00 Emergency ass drainage 7/22/07
$174.00 Vacation Boarding 9/4/07
$215.00 Allergy visit and meds 10/22/07
$65.00 every three months for flea and tick and heartworm meds
$85.00 Medicated Bath, anal drainage, grooming, office visit 12/11/07
$600.00 DOG TRAINER 2/26/08 - lifetime assistance
$399.00 for grooming 3/28/08...that turned into: a medicated bath, yearly vaccine ad check up, rabies shot and license, tick collar, heartworm meds, antihistamines (again 3x a day), anal drainage, injections, stool sample testing.

Remember, he's got a skin rash/allergy and recurring anal abscesses that need to be drained every 3-4 months!

There's something in my house that irritates his skin..not a clue what it is...he's been licking his paws to the point of scabbing! Maybe it's the training and loss of 'alpha position' in my house that's making him do that? I dunno.

This is fun.

Go ahead...add it up...I just can't find it in me to actually do the calculations...I may vomit.

It's not that I don't appreciate him for what he's done for Fa...I mean, after all, he's pulled her out of her shy shell from the get go and helped to make her feel more comfortable in her own skin...and he potty trained her for shit's sake. Like the commercial says..."Priceless"!

But jesus...he's tough.

Happy Birthday RT, I hope you enjoy your life with us...If your big sister didn't adore you to pieces..."bang zooom!".

(The birthday boy needs pants)