Age 17

 I don't often think of when I was 17... In fact, if I did take the time to think about it... I would probably say that I was pretty carefree, more responsible than most, and proud of who I was and spent my time around.

However, when I *DO* think of the age of 17, I think of my youngest brother, Nick, because that is the age he was when our mother died...

This is also the age my youngest son, Sam, is now...I simply can't imagine not being here for him. 

It honestly makes me weep if I think about it.

My mother's death was sudden - a car crash on icy roads.  I fully understand there is never a "good" time to die - to leave your children... but to me, age 17 is not it. 

At age 17, you are no longer a child, but you are also not an adult.  There is still SO much you have to learn about life and love and family.

At age 17, your biggest concerns should be college visits, school dances, and Friday night football games... Not burying your mother. Not carrying the burden of her death. Not being alone.

...I jokingly tell my children that I'm going to live to be 105 because by that time they will be ready for me to go... that and because it's not 17.

Anticipatory Grief

Anticipatory Grief... When I read these words today, they made SO much sense to me.
This.
This is what my husband is experiencing right now and I don't know how to help him.

When my mom died, it was sudden, unexpected.
Todd's dad has been fighting cancer almost the entire time he and I have been together.  In fact, I think he got diagnosed like 3 months into our relationship... So honestly, I haven't known Ben "cancer-free".

What I do know is that he has been a fighter and has never really seemed like he was "dying"... That is until now.

Todd, however, has been experiencing anticipatory grief for a while now.  He spends EVERY free second trying to make things perfect for his dad to the point of complete exhaustion.  He wants to spend every free second by his dad's side even though his barely opens his eyes now.

I, of course, don't deny him spending that time over at his parent's house, but also don't know how to "help" Todd through this process.

Loneliness

Loneliness is a monster creeping down the dark empty alleyway of your mind...
...waiting for the perfect moment to pounce...
...To let you know that security you felt, that confidence you had... It wasn't real.

Charismatic

My mother used to tell me that when I was a child (especially when I was a baby), I was charismatic.

She said it was like people couldn't help themselves but to be drawn to me and I would reward them with a soft easy smile that would draw them in even more.

I can remember being in 5th grade and that charisma eased a transition between school districts.

It has served me well in many facets of my life... Making friends with strangers, sharing a laugh and a kind word.

However, some days, I feel like maybe it's like a shiny penny that just isn't that shiny any more...  like I've lost my shiny charisma...

Some days I find myself drawing inward.  I can almost feel myself sucking that easy-going aura out of the room into a dark, lonely place that no one wants to be around.

I fight it though. 
I fight the dull.
I fight for the shiny... and the easy-going... and the drawing others in... because I know it's in me... its part of me.
I just have to remind myself ... I'm Charismatic

The Dance of Insomnia

Another late night where sleep eludes me...
...Nothing but the humming, humming of the appliances.
Wishing, wanting that hum to lull me to sleep.

But no.

Instead my brain reels... Planning for another day.
Fixated on things that cannot be done or undone in these late hours.

I wait...
Wait out these thoughts... while the ringing in my ears grows louder and louder because it's JUST. SO. QUIET... I can't even hear myself think!

Hours pass by... and slowly, so very slowly, a dance begins between the humming and the ringing.
... This dance soothes my thoughts into nothingness. 
Allowing the elusive sleep to waft in and join me.

Alive again

All I could do was try to keep living until I felt alive again.

I'm becoming my mother

I don't think of my mother every day... but how she raised my brothers and me is just ingrained and sometimes it leaks out... and that makes me think of her.

I laugh because sometimes when I'm frustrated or caught off guard, I shout things like, "Boy howdy"  or "Oh for Pete's sake"  or  "By golly"  or "Heavens to Betsy"
My friends get a kick out of these... But they came from my my mother's desire for us kids not to cuss.  She used to wash out my mouth with Dial soap when I said things like, "Gosh darn it"  or "Jeez" because they were TOO close to using the Lord's name in vain.

Another thing she taught us (without telling us) was how to say "Good morning" ... Now this wasn't just any Good Morning...  This is with buttery warmth that the person you are saying it to doesn't even have to look at you to know you are smiling with happiness in your heart as you say it.

This buttery warm "Good morning" came out of me this morning... to the "friend" that has not been kind to me lately.  I had not planned to say it... It just came out.  On top of it, it came out sounding just like my mother!

As I walked past out of the door, the weight of it hit me.  That was my mother that said that.  THAT was something she would have totally done.  Been sweet and buttery when anyone else would have thought sour would have been the place.  She had a wonderful way of moving past things.

I'm not there yet... but I am proud to say, "I'm becoming my mother."

My heart hurts

I honestly have to say my heart hurts today...

I know SamD wants nothing to do with me.  She makes that quite evident on a daily basis.

The problem is... She is mad at me for being human... For asking a simple question, "How was your summer?"

And I have ACTUALLY apologized for that... For being human!

So that makes me wonder... How does one person get to determine when friendships are lost?
I can truly say that I would NEVER allow her to exclude either one of you without sticking up for you.

I mean, maybe you have and I don't know it... But by not being invited...

Well... Like I said, my heart is hurting.

The friendship sea

As a 42 year old woman, I wold have never thought I would have to question my friendships.  I figured by this time in my life, my friendships would have a solid unwavering foundation and that I could smoothly sail on the friendship sea.

However, I have been proven wrong.  The friendship sea is rough and sometimes unyielding.

Like when the one person you *thought* was your friend and you stood by even though you saw her treat some of your other friends unfairly and excluded them from your group is now doing that to you...

You know that close knit group of friends that you did EVERYTHING with?  Yeah, that one.
Well they got together for their monthly get together tonight and you weren't invited... and of course she posted pics *knowing* you would see them.

And it makes you wonder... how are none of your other friends NOT standing up for you??

Then you remember.  YOU didn't do that for the last friend that was excluded.
That one will forever haunt you...

Loyal to a fault

Who knew being loyal could be a bad thing?

Looking back, I think being loyal to a fault is why I had such bad previous dating relationships...
Because the guy would act/do something that would not be beneficial to support our relationship, and me being so gosh darn loyal would somehow end up being the one trying to smooth things over when I wasn't the one who had done anything wrong.

This happened yesterday with one of my friends... and honestly it isn't the first time she has treated me this way. I went home and cried and cried about it.  I just couldn't see why she would treat me this way.  I spoke to a mutual friend about it - just trying to gain some clarity - was I so involved that I didn't see the true picture?

This is when my mutual friend pointed out that she has treated me this way before... and that I stood by her and made sure in the end that our friendship was back in good standing.  She never apologized for her actions.  It was me... Even though I didn't do anything wrong.

That was eye opening to me.

Here I was again... Feeling bad. Wanting to apologize, when I hadn't done anything wrong... Just wanting the waters to be smooth again.

I made a promise to myself many years back to stop allowing men to treat me in this way... Guess I need to extend that promise out to myself to include not allowing anyone to treat me this way.

And I need to remind myself that being loyal and being respected should go hand and hand... and that it is a requirement by both sides!

30 days of Truth Revisited: Day 1:Hatred

I did the 30 days of Truth back 7 years ago... I did it to jump start my blogging when I was lacking in making posts.. a time I wasn't sure I was being truthful to myself.

Here I am in 2017 and I have only made a few posts this year... I have no fear that I'm truthful to myself any more.  In fact, I'm probably TOO truthful (if there is such a thing).  But my thoughts have not made it to paper (or a screen).
So, to dedicate myself back to writing my thoughts, I will revisit the 30 days.

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.

I have always been insecure. Something inside myself has always made me question myself.  Esp after my divorce.  It made me build my walls high... Even when my walls were ALL the way up and on the outside strutted like I was all that, I was still insecure.  I just didn't show others that.

Most recently, I guess it would be my insecurity would be with my changing body.  I hate that I am falling in that "40's" category that my body is over taking me like an alien.  I have no control over emotions or weight gain or other craziness that no one fully reveals to you that your body is going to throw at you.

I hate that I'm almost 42 and I would even need to question myself about my self image.

I mean, I'm healthy and I'm loved. What else do I need??

***Maybe I should post that somewhere for me to see daily... Cause hate is such a strong, ugly word... and I DEFINITELY don't need it in my life.

You know my dad?!?

I'm sitting with my summer school group eating lunch. It is always a fight as to who gets to sit next to me at lunch.  It's something that secretly makes me smile.  Today, J. won the position. She is an ESL student and she is the sweetest little thing possible!

We are all having conversations and all of the kids are talking over each other trying to get their story told to me before lunch time is over. The little boy across from me finishes his story and I respond with "No way, Jose!"

Just then J. pipes up, "You know my dad?!?"
Me: "What sweetheart?"
J:"Jose. You know my dad?"
Me : (giggling) "No babe. It's a saying... Do you ever say 'No way Jose' to your dad?"
J: (looking confused) "No...I just call him Dad."

I will never be able to be able to hear someone say "No way Jose" without thinking "You know my dad?!?" LOL

How much of what weighs me down is not mine to carry

Colby, my oldest, is JUST like me.

Normally I say that beaming ear to ear.
He has my caring heart and wonderfully wholesome soul that looks for the good in everyone...
...But he also got the desire to please EVERYONE, even when it comes down to the stress inducing detriment of himself.

And I get it.  I was the "perfect teenager" because I didn't want to disappoint my mom.  I stayed on the straight and narrow, so I would never be thought of in an ill manner way by ANYONE.  I lived a safe (and honestly, boring) life... But it was "perfect", and I was happy because I thought everyone around me was happy too.

It wasn't until my ex, R. cheated, did my view change... because I HAD stayed on the straight and narrow and still my car was pushed off the road and, in turn, I wasn't happy and I finally had to stand up for myself and for my happiness.

I would say, I even went a little rouge.  I did any little whim of things that made me happy.  I didn't worry about what other people thought and I grew from it...

But see, I don't want Colby to have to go through something like that to find his voice.  He worries about anything and everything (like I do) and currently he cries to relieve his stress.  This infuriates his dad.  He dad doesn't believe that a teenage boy should cry like that.  But I get it.  My thoughts consume me some days... and on those days, I don't sleep.  Thankfully, I have a husband now that gets it and helps to calm those thoughts and lets me talk it out... which in turn helps me sleep.
It is also why I started to blog.  I needed to get the thoughts out.. and after I mentally "vomited" all over the page of the computer screen, I felt better.

Colby isn't like me when it comes to writing.  Words don't pour out of him.  But I need to find something... Something to help him feel less stressed... Something other than crying... Because,even though I don't care if he cries, his dad does... Which causes MORE stress because of his dad's reaction to the crying... and then Colby is stressed out  more and then I hear about it from my ex which stresses me out and then every body is stressed...

So... Any suggestions for relieving stress would be appreciated.

Trust

I don't know why it rattled me so much... I've had students lie to me before...  I've had students steal from me before... it just... really. freakin. hurt.

You see... I have this student that comes and checks in with me.  He does so because he is known for lying and stealing.  It's like his little daily "conscience" check before he starts his day.

At first, you could tell he didn't want to be gracing my doorway every morning... We talk about things that we do to prove people can trust us.  And at first I could see his eyes roll, even if he didn't physically do it, but I saw less reports of lying and no new reports of stealing... and I felt like we had a rapport.  I guess you could say that I was giving myself a virtual pat on the back for breaking ground with this kid.

Until today.

Today, he got caught going through my desk drawers... which caused the realization to hit that the candy bar he "got" yesterday (that his mom emailed to see if I had given to him because he said it was from a friend) was FROM MY DRAWER! And then when I point-blank asked him about it, HE LIED!

I'm not gonna lie.
I trusted him.

Despite what everyone else told me... I like to give kids the benefit of the doubt (until they prove me wrong.)

And today... Today, he proved me wrong.
And it crushed me.

I guess I wanted to believe SO badly that I had made a difference and in one quick action, I felt as if I failed.
Funny though... How HE did the wrong action and yet *I* feel like I failed.

That's why people don't understand teaching sometimes... Because when our students fail, we view it as a poor reflection on us... Or at least I do.

And I don't like to fail.

Ghost of Christmas past.. or Christmas future?

My dream last night...

I walk up to the boys and their friends.  They are outside the city limits of this big city in a completely flat area that looked like a desert.  The ground is dry and cracked. I ask the boys what they are doing and they say "Nothing."  It is evident that they are doing target practice of some kind.

Then, all of a sudden, one of them shoots something and a huge explosion happens on the edge of the city.  The ground begins to shake like an earthquake and a crack begins to run down the ground towards us.

"What have you done?" I yell.  "Just run!!"  they yell back as they grab my arm and pull me away from the crack that is increasingly growing as it comes towards us.

We run to a hill.  As we crest the hill, we see green lushness beyond it.  There are men with shotguns at the top.
One asks, ""Where do you think you are going?"
One of the boys replies, "We need to get there." pointing to the bottom of the valley on the other side of the hill.
"Go around!" the man yells.  It is obvious this is his land and he doesn't want us to cut through.
"No time." says the boy pointing to the crack that is following us.
Nodding us on, the man says, "Go."

We run over the crest of the hill and start to run down it.
During this running, 2 young girls join us; one is about 8 and the other is about 3. They ask if they can join us... They are obviously poor.  They are wearing rags and you can tell they are just want something to do.  I ask the 8 yr old if she has ever rolled down a hill. She says no.  I look off to the landscape beside us and it is green plateau, then a craggy drop, then another green plateau, and another craggy drop.  It continues like this down the side of the hill, even though the area that we are running is just a smooth hill.  I tell her that when we find a good hill, I will teach her how to roll down a hill.  As I'm telling her this, I'm thinking that I have never been successful with rolling down a hill since I hit puberty and gained boobs, but decided to deal with that when the time came.

When we finally reach the bottom of the hill, we reach a pond and decide to rest.  I tell everyone to be careful around the water.  Then the 3 yr old starts crying.  I ask her what is wrong. She tells me that she lost her doll's shoe in the pond.  It is obvious this doll is worth more than what her family probably could have afforded on their own as it is brand new.

So, I go to the water's edge and scoop my hand into the water. I come up with a handful of doll shoes.  I show the little girl and ask her if any of these are her doll's shoe.  She shakes her head.  I scoop again. Again, she shakes her head and says, "It's pink..." I have several pink shoes in my hand.  "What about?..."  I asked as I start to point at a pink shoe laying on my hand.  She cuts me off and says, "No, it's pink like a bunny's nose."  I wade into the water and scoop up a handful of shoes from the center of the pond and carry them over to the water's edge.  I show the little girl again. "No, like a puppy's nose." she innocently says again.  I decide that I don't have time to keep looking randomly for this doll shoe in a pond full of doll shoes.  I tell her I will keep my eye out for it, but that right now I will go home with them and explain to their mom what has happened and that I will take the blame for it.

We walk into the shack of their house,  Stair-steps of children are running around...It is obvious that the two girls I met are just two of many.  We walk into the kitchen where their mom is in front of an old stove.  The scene is from the 1930's Great Depression. I start to explain why I'm there.  Suddenly, the door is slammed open by her husband. "Woman!!!" he yells. She looks at me and whispers, "Not now." I sink into the background of the kitchen.  He bursts into the kitchen. "Woman, what have you done?!!?" he yells as he shoves a square bottle of dark alcohol in her face.  He is wearing trouser pants and a pageboy hat, but they are tattered. "I had to take care of your children somehow. I made sure they gave you credit." she said. The bottle he is holding has 3 calligraphy initials on the front label.  "Woman, don't you know this stuff is illegal?  And now they know WHO made it!!"

Car wreck PTSD

So a month ago, the boys and I were in a wreck... not my fault...It totaled my car.

I have lived through many traumatic things in my life... However, I can't seem to shake this one.

Maybe it's because I'm still in pain from it.
Maybe it's because I HAVE to continue to drive on a daily basis.

Whatever it is... I am suffering major PTSD from it.

I pull over if someone is following too close behind me because I'm afraid they will hit me.
I jump if someone I am riding with pulls out into traffic even if the cars aren't that close.
I still won't take that road home that I got hit on.

Yesterday, I knew without a doubt I had been traumatized...

We went to Incredible Pizza where they have 4D movies.  We did the Jurassic Park one.  Unbeknownst to me, it is basically a car wreck where the dinosaurs wreck your car over and over and over again...

I walked away with fingernail indentations in my hands from gripping on so tight, a nauseous stomach, and a splitting headache.

Then last night I woke up from a nightmare where I was riding in a car with a friend and because she was crying so hard she didn't see the car in front of us, so I braced myself as we rammed into the car in front of us causing me to throw my hands forward and brace myself on the dashboard.

Then I woke up.

Not mine

Another year is starting.

Tonight was open house...
This night used to be filled with anxiety and excitement... LOTS and lots of excitement... because it meant I was meeting a whole new group of smiling student faces and I knew they were mine.

I saw lots of smiling faces at open house tonight.  I got to stand at the front door and greet as everyone came in and say good-byes as they all left.

...But it wasn't the same.

Even though I again will have every student in the building, none of them are mine.  I'm not sure I will ever get over this part of it.

It especially made it worse when former students of mine came back (because of younger siblings) and gave me hugs...

... because they all know that once they are mine they are always mine.

A dark cloud looms

You see me, I smile.
These days it is probably forced, but I still smile.
I do it so you don't know.
You know me as the happy-go-lucky one. The one who sees the silver lining on every dark cloud.
But right now...
Right now that dark cloud is engulfing me... Taking over my whole being.
I'm snippy.
I complain.
I'm downright in a generally sour mood pretty much all the time.
This isn't me.
I joke.
I laugh.
I enjoy a good time.
I don't like myself like this...
So I smile.

Inside though, I hurt.
I see my friends doing things without me and I hurt,
I know I have been off the grid for a while doing my masters... But "they" say if they are your true friends, they will wait for you.
"They" are wrong.
Here I am, done with my masters, and still no invite.
And it hurts.

And that dark cloud feels like it is growing because of the hurt...
And my silver lining is falling in the form of tears.
The smile is fading...

At least we didn't die

I have a VERY vivid imagination.
I always have.
I think that's why I don't watch scary movies... because later I recreate those scenarios in my brain.
I haven't watched a scary movie in a long time, but last night I felt like I was living one.

Let me set the scene...

Todd and I went to a friend's wedding up north.
He got married in a big little town...  It seemed quaint but had all the amenities of a city, but seemed like a town.
All of their hotels got horrible reviews.  The hotel we picked had 3 out of 5 stars.  Most people knocked them down for their breakfast.  We weren't planning on eating breakfast there, so I decided to book it.

When we got to the front desk, the clerk seemed distracted and a little at the end of her rope.  When the printer flashed it was out of paper, she said, "I really don't care if I have a copy of your driver's license. Just don't smoke in the room, okay?"

She handed me my copy of the reciept.  It said we were in 208A.  She scribbled out the "A" and said, "Ummm... Don't worry about the A. It's just 208." I thought that this must be a suite or something, but didn't question further.

We headed up the outside stairs to our door, 208.
I slid the key, the light would flash green, yet I couldn't get the door open.
I did this three times.
No luck.
Finally, Todd decided to try.
He put all of his body weight against the door and it came open.

The room was dark with the exception of the light from the tv screen.
It was playing a black and white movie.
(I'm pretty sure I said, "That's weird.")
I didn't like it.
It gave me a bad feeling.
I then switched on the light switch.
Nothing.
No light.
I started to back out the door.
I told Todd that something was not right here... that we weren't staying.
He trudged forward.
He turned on the lamp at the far side of the room and looked behind the door of the bathroom.
Nothing.
He told me to come in and close the door.
I still wasn't convinced it was safe.
I turned on my flashlight on my phone and looked under the beds.
Then we heard something outside, I went to the peephole.
Someone had stuffed toilet paper into the hole so you couldn't look out.
I thought for sure we were going to die!!
By now my brain was reeling with scenarios.
I started looking and relooking behind the doors and under the bed.
Then I remembered the "A"...
The room was NOT a suite!!  Why would they number it 208A if it was NOT a suite??!!
This sent me into more of a tailspin.

Luckily, I have a calm boyfriend who knows how my crazy brain works.
He jokingly says, "Well, if we don't wake up dead, we know it was all in your head."

We didn't wake up dead (I know that doesn't make sense - In other words, we're still here...)
Maybe this is how movie writers become so creative... Maybe they stay in weird hotels too with rooms like 208A.

The point of too far gone and not nearly there

You know that point where you are so tired that you know you have stuff to get done, but instead you do nonsensical things that seem productive, but really truly aren't and are most DEF not getting you any closer to the goal you are hoping to achieve???

Yep.

That's where I'm at.

Been up since 5 am.
Put in a full day at summer school.
Went shopping for supplies with the summer school team after summer school.
Picked up Sam and took him to practice.
Got home at 7pm.
Have been doing nonsense for 2 hours while my niece's cake sits on the counter waiting to be decorated.
And yet, here I am blogging.

 And this hour and a half decorate job I think is going to take several hours.

...I should have taken a nap...