The funny thing about making plans for the future....

Well, Hello :) I promised myself I would attempt to check in on my blog once in awhile. I miss it. I miss my readers! I miss having the time to write most of all. I may have a little more time for the next couple months, so maybe I can blog a little more than once a year haha. I started my junior year for my Psychology Degree this year but I'm just not feeling it anymore. Life has changed so much since I started. So, so much of my life is different. I'm not sure that I even recognize the person that I was in 2009. I am much less sure of who/what I am now. Much less sure of my likes, my wants, my dreams. I'm not quite middle age, but since I started so early with my adult life, maybe that is exactly what is happening. Professionally, I have hit a brick wall. My current nursing license is pretty well un-usable (is that even a word??) in my area now. As an LPN, my job prospects are almost non-existent now. For one, I live in a very rural area and attempting to commute to a large city where my job prospects would be better would mean I would have to make twice what I would ever be offered just to pay for the gas. Aside from that, my hometown hospital is the last hospital, maybe in the whole area, to even hire LPN's. I could just stay where I am, but my hours have been cut to less than 24 hrs a week and still falling. Financially, my hospital is dying, as a lot of small rural hospitals are doing right now because of budget cuts and the change in the way the government is reimbursing through Medicare/Medicaid. It won't be long and my position will be dissolved all together. I was actually reminded of that this week when a co-worker was let go after 25 years of service just because of lack of funding. So, combined with lack of growth in my area of the industry and frustration at my current personal issues, Hubby and I have decided to put my Psych degree on hold. I will be leaving the workplace in January and returning to nursing school. Another 2 years of school. Yay. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful to have the opportunity, but I just don't feel like I am ever going to *not* be a student again. I made up my mind to leave the nursing field 3 years ago...I am not too thrilled about coming back into it this way. But, Mommy's and Daddy's have bills to pay. 24 hours a week is not paying our bills right now. Losing my job completely is not going to help matters any either. So...I switch majors, finish my nursing degree so that I can continue working while I finish my Bachelor's in Psych and go on to get my Master's. At this rate, I should be out of school sometime around the year 2020. That sentance made me want to take a nap. I almost cannot believe that 3 years have passed since I even made the decision to go to school in the first place. That seems impossible. But, time does what needs to do..it passes. On the bright side, at this rate, I will be graduating with my Master's in Psychology, after having also gotten my Nursing Degree, by my 40th Birthday. All I can say is that, I plan on having a hell of a party that year! I DO promise to blog about it :)

I'm still a Hot Mess

I haven’t written in a really long time. A really LONG time. I miss it. I miss thinking about what I’m going to write, banging it out, reading and re-reading it, changing it all up and writing it again. It’s not that I haven’t had things to write about. Life goes on every single day…the good and the bad. I just haven’t slowed down long enough to do it. There isn’t enough of me to go around anymore.

I am sitting alone on my couch, the night before Christmas Eve, listening to the sounds of my house: dog bumping around in his crate, my youngest son’s sniffles (must get him some medicine tomorrow!), my husband snoring in the next room, etc. I am surrounded by the people I love. No matter what has happened in the day to day, good or bad, this is all that matters. Its been a year, give or take, since I wrote my last real post. A lot has changed, but then again, maybe not so much. I am almost halfway done with my degree in Psychology. I am still working at the doctor’s office but, as always, keeping my eyes peeled. In fact, I have an interview next week for a potential start up office in the next town. Keep your fingers crossed for me. It would mean more money, but less free time (as if I had any to start with) and less time for school. The largest change is in me. I see so much more than I used to see…in life, in other people, in myself. The biggest change revolves around my oldest son, The Sweet One. Two of my last posts were dedicated to my youngest children. I didn’t get around to posting about my eldest son. Before I could post about him, we had a nearly life-altering event in our household. It was brought to our attention that someone was bullying him. It turned out to be several some-ones…most of the high school really. Someone had set up a fake Facebook account in his name, proclaiming “himself” to be homosexual, having lewd conversations with other students, propositioning people. Although one person set it up, the password got passed around so that a large chunk of the high school was taking turns “being” my son, posting things on Facebook like they were coming from him, etc. Pictures that were taken on school campus were posted of him like he was posting them himself. Some of them he even posed for because someone said “Hey, get in on this picture with us!” He thought he was being included in the group…he wasn’t. 3 months after we left homeschooling for a private Christian education we were broadsided by this.

It was only brought to our attention because the principal found the website (he routinely checks up on the kids this way) and was concerned enough to call me in for a meeting. You see, he believed that it was my son’s real Facebook page, and he wanted to make me aware of his “indiscretions”. Needless to say, when I left the office he was very aware of the true situation and vowed to investigate. I did what I know was the right thing to do. I went home and I told my son what the other kids had done. Part of me wanted to hide it from him and let him go on thinking that these people were his friends, but I knew in my heart of hearts that it would be wrong, that he deserved to know what kind of “friends” he had. The next thing I did was call a friend of mine, who happens to work for law enforcement, and asked about the legality of the situation. Unfortunately, in Alabama, there are not (or were not at the time) any specific laws against cyberbullying per se. Other than them threatening him or making a profit from his name (they didn’t do either) there wasn’t anything really that could be done. I was devastated for him. I watched as the reality of his world sank in. I watched as the blood ran from his face. I watched as his whole 15 yr old life crumbled down around is ears. It may not sound like a lot for some, but for a 15 yr old boy, to have rumors of this magnitude spread about you is tantamount to social execution. Not only did these kids “friend” kids from 4 area high schools, their friends sent friend requests to their friends and so on, until more than 200 kids in our immediate area were either witnessing this behavior or were participating in it. Many didn’t know that it wasn’t really him saying these things and it wasn’t just boys participating. You probably think what I thought before this happened: boys bully boys and girls bully girls. Wrong. There were just as many girls participating as there were boys. I think that was the part that nearly killed my son. It wasn’t just that the girls might think he was gay, but they were actually participating in the rumor-mongering, posing as him, propositioning gay sex to other students. Such a blow to your sexuality would be hard for an adult, but for a young boy…well, I probably don’t even have to tell you. After I told him what I knew, we sat together for a little while. He talked and then he cried and then he talked some more. I remember thinking to myself, “This is why kids commit suicide. They really think that life is over for them because their way of life really is over. How do you come back from this?” I lay on his bed with him and just let him be angry, but mostly what we did was cry. It was like the death of something. The last of his childhood slithering away from us as the cold, hard edge of adulthood jammed itself into our lives without welcome. I wished with all my heart that I could shoulder this pain for him but I couldn’t. I asked him if he wanted to go back to school and he said no, not yet, but then he said something that made my blood run cold and stopped my heart in its tracks. He said, “I don’t even want to wake up tomorrow.” Now, I know that adolescents are full to the brim of melodrama…its their currency….but I could hear in his voice that he really felt that way and all I could envision was that mother who found her daughter hanging in her closet after being bullied on the Internet. I have never been so scared in my life. Everything in my world stopped turning right then and I knew that I had to do whatever was in my power to make sure that didn’t happen. He was so distraught and I was so scared that he would slip away from reality and harm himself during the night, that the first night I just lay in his room with him and let him cry. My poor husband slept alone…it was Valentine’s Day. I had to take several days off of work because I just didn’t trust him enough to leave him alone yet, let alone leave him in charge of his brothers while I worked. The principal agreed with me and allowed him to finish his work at home that week. Meanwhile, the group of kids who had done this was rounded up and summarily chewed out by the principal, who gave an assembly about the dangers of bullying the next day, and then this group of kids was given Saturday school where they had to scrub floors and walls and bathrooms, etc as their punishment. Don’t get me wrong, at least the school tried to do something, but it just didn’t seem fair to me that my son is barely functioning and this group of kids who maliciously destroyed his outlook on life and turned him into this fragile creature who doesn’t even want to exist…these kids are given “chores” for their crime. I was bitter…I suppose I still am.

I discretely went to my boss and told her what was happening and why I needed the time off. She hooked me up a local child psychologist and within the week he began counseling for his grief. He only went to about 6 sessions before he backed out, but I have faith that when he is ready to deal with it fully we will return. Because of this event, for a time, wasn’t sure of his sexual orientation. I think he looks at himself and asks ‘Do they see something in me that I don’t see? Am I gay? How do I know?’ Not that I was particularly ready to have these discussions, but I have had many discussions on the topic with him. I can say that before this event, I was pretty sure that I had a strong conviction about sexual orientation and how it related to my faith…now, not so much. I know what I think in my head, but I just can’t reconcile that to my son. My child, my baby whom I carried in my body and whom I would die defending…I don’t believe the same things I used to because I was able to look at it from a different perspective. I can say this…anyone who carries hatred in their hearts for people of different orientations have never faced loving one before. I can guarantee you that. I have urged my son not to label himself right now. From a mom’s point of view, it doesn’t matter right now anyway because I do not want any experimentation with anyone of any sex! We do believe in saving ourselves and that doesn’t change no matter what our preferences. It was a dark time for me and my husband, particularly my husband. No matter what, we know now that our love for our child doesn’t change. It scares me, thinking of his future now, but my love doesn’t change. I see the feminine marks on my son that the world has tried to enlarge and turn into something it may not be, but I don’t care. I don’t care that here in the South, boys are supposed to play sports and fool around with their girlfriends. I don’t care that boys in the South aren't supposed to spend all of their time reading and writing stories and painting like my son does. I don’t care that he’s not like the other boys. God didn’t create him to be like everyone else and I make sure he knows it everyday.

It has been nearly a year since the original incident. My son did return to school because he didn’t want to let them beat him. He does still occasionally face some ridicule at school but he tries not to let it bother him. The Sweet One turned 16 this past June and is looking forward to having the courage to take his driver’s test eventually. He has tried to have a few girlfriends but so far nothing very important. I think the farther and farther away the incident goes the more secure he feels in himself. That is all I care about. I worry for him that he doesn’t have friends, doesn’t have that “core group” that is so vital for teenagers, but I pray everyday that he draws what he can from our family and that one day soon he will show us all just how strong he can be. I can’t wait for that day. You'll recognize me...I'll be the one cheering the loudest :)

I swear I don't sit around complaining...

Seems like the only reason I blog anymore is to bitch. I'm sorry about that friends. I am consciously trying to avoid blogging now days specifically because I don't want to spend my time sitting around complaining. That being said, I have had some news this week that I cannot wrap my brain around. I have written before about my sisters E and T, who went on the cruise with me. These are sisters from my biological father. I also have a brother from their family. From my mother I only have one sister whose name also starts with an M. I will call her Em here..like Emily or Emma, just to keep things straight.

Em is my baby sister, five years younger than me, which makes her 26. The news I got this week that I cannot wrap my brain around is that Em is pregnant....with her 5th child. Yes, you heard me correctly...her FIFTH child. She is also on her second husband. She has 2 boys with the first man (one of whom is disabled) and a boy and a girl with the current man. Em also has major health issues that made it necessary for her first two children to have to be delivered early enough for the both of them to be medical miracles (we're talking second trimester births here!) and has needed a hysterectomy for the last 6 or 7 years because of these health problems. Its a miracle any of these babies have survived, they were all premature, she has almost died with every single one of them and now she is pregnant for the 5th time. Someone, please, please, please, explain to me: Why would a woman want to go through this??? I might need to add, although doing so clearly counts as gossip, that they are so financially strapped that they are frequently on government assistance, never have enough of anything that the kids need, her husband has only recently gotten a stable job and it might turn out to be seasonal during the farm season and end when the winter comes! Add to the fact that the house is so filthy that Em and I have come to blows over the condition those kids live in and that myself and my kids would never set foot into the house and I am doubly confused as to why...why...why on God's green earth would she have another baby???
She swears to me that protection was used and that she didn't want to have another baby and that she has no clue what they are going to but to that I say: Why didn't you fix the problem with either of the last two pregnancies?
For the love of God, what would possess someone to be so irresponsible? I love my children but when I knew we couldn't support anymore mouths or that I couldn't possibly handle anymore stress we took care of it with a little snippity-snip-snip!
I really have tried to let go of things like this in her life since we lost Mom. Since losing Mom I have tried to focus my sole attention on my own family. Life is short. I learned that from losing both my parents before I was 28 years old. Losing Mom in particular has forced me to start seeing what motherhood really is and the effects you have on your children for years to come. I have memories that are important to me that I am sure my Mother would never remember because to her it was just another passing moment in the day. It shows me that every moment is the chance to make a memory. It probably contributes to me feeling like a failure a lot because it adds more pressure than I need right now, but it also helps me remember what the big picture is here. Because of all of this, I worry about what kind of things Em's kids will remember growing up. Will they only have memories of filth and want? Will they have memories of Mom being so stressed and tired that she was never happy? (I'm assuming the stress because why wouldn't a 26 yr old with five kids be stressed?) I know she loves them, but what is the quality of the life she is giving them? What is the point in having more children than you can logically handle or support?? I have been praying so hard about this situation. I haven't said anything ugly to her about it, because really, what's the point? The fact is that there is going to be a new baby whether she needs another one or not. The baby is going to need love either way. I do love those kids. I love them enough that I've already told my husband that if the state ever stepped in because of the circumstances I would take all of them into our home rather than see them go to the state. At this point I just keep thinking, how can I possibly do that if she just keeps popping them out like Pez candy??
I feel bad for most of the feelings I have and I'm working on that. I love my sister, we're just nothing alike and have never seen eye to eye on anything. I pray that she finds a way to cope with all that she has been dealt. And, if the state ever comes knocking on my door, I'm going to need very large Valium and mainline of Capt. Morgan to stay sane.

Late Post from the World's Worst Mom

In my mind I am an old lady. Here I was, all satisfied with myself for posting about Father's Day and The Sweet One's birthday and about half way through my shift at work today, I realized that that I totally missed posting about The Mouth's birthday, which was on the 5th.

Now this may not seem like an unforgivable crime unless, like me, you are prone to montage-type hallucinations of the future in which your children have been driven to the Psychiatrist's couch my something you have said or done. Side note: a lot of my futuristic hallucinations involve my children in therapy...nevermind.

So, without further ado:

This is The Mouth.

I have named him The Mouth for blogging purposes because, well, he talks a lot. I plead the 5th on where he inherited that trait :)

So, his birthday was a couple weeks ago, but in my defense Hubby was in the middle of a very long medical ordeal and despite trying my best to keep that separate from my son's birthday celebration, my brain really wasn't focusing at the time. A couple of years ago The Sweet One decided that he was too old for cake and ice cream birthday parties anymore so we started a tradition of taking him and a couple friends to do something cool on his birthday. I think he was turning 13 at the time, and this was an outward way to express his "teenage-hood". So, it goes without saying that of course, his little brother was suddenly "too old" for parties as well. We've been doing the "special day out" birthday for the two older boys ever since.

This year, The Mouth decided that he wanted to go to the local go-kart track/amusement place for his birthday. Because of Hubby's medical issues, guess who was left to go go-karting with four 11 yr old boys? Correct. So, we show up at this place, which is slammed because it's the first Saturday of Summer Vacation. As soon as we check in and get our bracelets guess what happens?? The bottom falls out of the largest storm cell to pass through in several weeks. I literally checked the weather on my phone thinking that certainly this was like a rogue tropical storm that I wasn't aware of. That's how wicked this thing was. We didn't even get to ride the go-karts once. In fact, no rides for us at all. Everyone (which in this particular park happened to be about 200 people) had to hang out in the arcade to keep dry.

So, we're shoved into this tiny arcade, which is already loud and stuffy, waiting for the rain to stop. We wait...and wait...and wait. Thirty minutes into it we decide to go ahead and have our pizza now since there wasn't anything else to do and it sure beat standing at the windows with our faces pressed against the glass.


One Cheese pizza did not really help the situation at all since it's life span was exactly two minutes long. Now it had been raining for an hour and I was starting to severely sweat the fact that I was supposed to have these boys home at a decent hour, we hadn't done anything fun yet and all the cheese pizza was gone. I finally tracked down a manager and did my best "I know this isn't your fault, but I was just wondering where my money is going since we are standing here doing nothing and the sun is going down" face. As overwhelmed as she was, and believe me -with an arcade built for about 50 people that was now holding about 200- she was way overwhelmed, she really was great. After talking with her and asking Birthday Boy what he wanted to do, it was decided not to postpone for another weekend. I mean, it's summer in the South...it rains ever day here during Hurricane Season. Postponing it didn't guarantee anything and even the children knew it.


So, she made us an offer we couldn't refuse: $40 worth of arcade tokens and three games each of Laser Tag. This is a picture of four 11 yr old boys discovering a real "vintage" Ms. Pac Man/Galaga game. He totally asked me if he could have one for his room. I teared up a little. Two hours later all the tokens were gone, all the Laser Tag games were played and everybody had bag of useless crap from the token store.

I did get them all home by bedtime and no one cried, fought or broke any bones. In Boy-Land that's a home run kinda day. I missed having Hubby with me to navigate the mess but somehow even in the midst of all of his medical drama he had the time to text me...."Sucks to be you :)" Jackass.

In the end they all raved about what an awesome birthday it was, which was good for me to hear since the entire time I was staring out the window at the tree branches flying by, I was explaining myself to my child's imaginary-future-shrink. I learned that boys will always be happy if you feed them and give them game tokens and that laser tag is so a real sport. I'm just happy I lived to tell the tale :O

Happy Birthday to my Mouth! Hope this year is super awesome, just like you.

The Sweet One turns 15!

You probably can't tell from this picture, but this is The Sweet One. Today is his 15th birthday. I can not wrap my brain around having a 15 yr old child. I'm not old enough to have a 15 yr old child! Seriously, I'm not. Those in my personal life already know this story, but since blogging is about rambling and preserving your thoughts, it bears repeating.

I was 15 yrs old myself when I gave birth. I had been 15 for all of about 30 days when I got pregnant. Hubby and I were troubled teenagers...I'm not even sure troubled is the right word here. Troubled actually sounds like too light a term...severely handicapped might be more appropriate. The story involves a lot of background and dredging up junk, which I'm not going to do for the sake of posterity, but suffice it to say that I was safer with him, even if I was getting pregnant, than I was at home and having someone to focus on rather than self-destruction really is probably the only reason Hubby lived through those years. So, whether we were ready or not, at the ages of 15 and 17 we brought a child into the world.

Having The Sweet One saved my life...both our lives. Suddenly there was this other person there. Someone that we were responsible for, someone who depended on us, someone who would love purely without conditions. He was such a sweet baby. I wish I had a scanner so I could share baby pictures, but then it's probably better that I don't or I'd have to change the name of my blog to something sickly sweet like "Our Happy Little Boys".

We worked so hard to do it right. Hubby worked 3 jobs until his body failed him from exhaustion, then he worked 2 jobs and still does sometimes. I went to school. It was the only thing I had left because I wasn't old enough to get a job. We weren't old enough to lease an apartment, so we lived with our parents and then friends, for years it seemed. Happily I can report that I finished school, dropping out was never an option, while I worked full-time. Notice I didn't mention a shot-gun wedding. Even then we believed that we weren't mature enough to handle learning to be parents and learning how to be married at the same time. Eventually, after lots and lots of "on again/off again" we did marry. This, we have learned, makes us some kind of extraordinary couple...because you know, boys who get girls pregnant are supposed to leave and teen moms are supposed to have kids by different dads. That's what we get told anyway. I guess we just didn't get the memo.

I won't know for years, but I wonder how our ages at the time have affected him. I have made my share of mistakes for sure, but I'm not totally convinced that was because of my age. All new parents are idiots I hear. This is an "on the job training" kind of thing. But, I can tell you this. He is a wonderful young man. I am so proud of what Hubby and I have done together. We knew that if we weren't actively working against it, the things that tripped us up and held us down were going to get passed along to our children. We have worked tirelessly to make sure they have a fair deal. I stand back in awe sometimes at the person we are raising. He is super, almost scary smart. He loves science, and classic literature, greek mythology and comic books (he gets that from me). He loves rock and roll music. He's learning to play the guitar.

He will be learning to drive this year, God help me. He spends time writing stories. He loves babies and has been serving in the nursery and 2/3 yr old Sunday School at our church for a couple of years now. He starts 9th grade in 2 months. He gets nervous around girls...well I think so anyway. A mom can only see so much while she's spying from across the room :) His room is covered in rock posters and his desk is covered in novels. If I were a 15 yr old girl I'd think he was awesome....but I'm not. I'm his mom and I'm a little biased to say the least.

I am so looking forward to the teenage years. He knows the story about himself. He connected the dots on my age a long time ago and it's something that has been discussed to death around here. To look back at where I was at this same age is so surreal and so completely satisfying. My son has never known what it was like to wonder if I love him, he has never (to my knowledge) considered his life a waste and he has never know what it was like to face this world alone...my job isn't done by any means, but I sure am proud of the job I've done.

Happy Birthday Sweetheart!

Father's Day Post

Happy Father's Day!

We had a great Father's Day today with Hubby. We weren't able to let him sleep in because of church, but we made sure that he was the last one to wake up...it was the least we could do! We prepared him a surprise pancake and egg breakfast (Yum!), gave Hubby a card from each of us, presents that consisted of a new set of garage tools and a bible in a translation he had been asking for and then headed off to Church. Our friend and pastor gave a great sermon to the guys about leading in the home today that I'm sure got a lot of people's attention. Kudos to a man giving a sermon to men, on Father's Day, and using the words lazy, slacker and poser in the same sermon without offending anyone. Way to go! Afterwards there was much pondering over where to have lunch, since it was Hubby's choice and he didn't to pick a place that provided toys with the kids' meal :) We were all excited when he chose Japanese Hibatchi...dinner and a show! Bonus.

To say that the Hibatchi scared Mr. Funny (our 8 yr old) is an understatement. Picture a child trying to eat with chopsticks while simultaneously trying to plug his ears from the "noise" of the pyrotechnics and acrobatic spatula. I was worried he was going to accidentally puncture an ear drum! The Mouth and The Sweet One both loved it, as most boys do when they get to see things on fire. Mr. Funny lightened up when we bought him a "Japanese Sprite" as it was labeled on the menu. It came in a funny shaped bottle with a marble in the lid, sealing it, that you had to pop out with the provided tool in order to drink. Unfortunately there isn't a way to get the marble out when your done without breaking the bottle. Breaking the bottle isn't going to happen, since we're "keeping it forever". I mean...we have to - it's got Japanese writing right on the label!

When we had stuffed ourselves with all the Japanese food we could eat, we headed home for long Sunday naps, movies and ice cream. Pretty much in that same order.


So, this is a short post, but I'm groggy from the bucket of Japanese leftovers I had for dinner, the ice cream and the general laziness that a Sunday afternoon brings to our house. I hope that everyone who celebrated it, had a great Father's Day. I myself don't have my father anymore, so I remember him on this day while I heap extra love and attention on Hubby. To those of you who aren't fathers, remember to include any other male role model shoes you fill...teacher, friend, uncle, brother, even spouse. Fatherhood takes a multitude of talents and each of these roles draws a little from those talents as well. Celebrate that. To my single mom friends, I hope you got a little love today as well, since your filling both roles. If you know someone in these two catagories who may have been missed today, give them a ring tomorrow. Tell them you were thinking of them too. Everyone likes to be remembered. I'm back to work tomorrow....Everyone have a great week!!

Depressing Questions from an Invisible Woman

Sometimes I feel completely invisible. I couldn't put my finger on it precisely until just now, after a conversation with my sister. I can't really call it feeling useless or feeling unecessary because I DO see my purpose and I DO feel like I provide useful and necessary things to my family's lives. I have to call it feeling invisible because I don't think that THEY see my purpose or usefulness in their lives. Maybe I put too much pressure on myself, and I probably do, but I have an idea about what my job is and what my role in this family entails. They probably don't expect of me what I think they do, but at the very least I want to live up to my OWN expectations of what a wife and mother should do and provide for her family. No one asked me to homeschool, I do it because I believe its the best for my children. No one asked me to cook my heart out, creating wholesome and nutritious meals from scratch every night not to mention homemade bread, but I want that for my family, I want my children to have memories of family dinners and wonderful smells. So, if no one asks these things of me in the first place, why do I feel so put out and dejected when no one notices? Why feel so deflated when dinner is eaten quickly, with not one word spoken about its quality or of the effort and love put into it? Why the need to feel "visible" and praised? Am I really doing it because I want to? Am I really "selflessly" serving my family? What is it about women that makes us want to feel noticed and important? I have heard the phrase before that "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." (Simon De Beauvoir), well I am here to attest that it ain't just the men. I watched the movie "Revolutionary Road" recently and I am saddened to say that I can relate to the quiet desperation felt by Kate Winslet's character. Why am I saddened by that? Well, quite simply, I have this belief that I should be content to do the job of motherhood and wife-hood without the need for recognition. Why? I have no idea. Maybe because I know so many women who feel fulfilled with their lives and they are doing what I am doing. Where is my fulfillment? Why isn't it enough for me? Again, it isn't so much what I am doing that brings discontent as much as the lack of feeling visible, the lack of "warm and fuzzies" being sent my way. I love my husband and I love my children and I will continue to do what I have been doing even if I don't ever feel visible because I know its the right thing (even if they don't know it), but I fear that I will always feel invisible. That's a large fear for me. That I might always feel like no one sees me, no one notices the things I bring to the table. That I will spend my days cooking and cleaning and teaching my children and spend my every waking moment thinking of how I can best serve my family and that no one will care, no one will appreciate and that one will spend their time thinking about the things that I do or wondering how they can let me know that they care. *sigh* Well, I know these thoughts are depressing and I worry that they are not godly, but I also wonder how many women feel this way. Am I alone, a weird one, a self-centered person who only does things for others recognition? I will spend some time in prayer about this. I pray that either God brings me peace about it or directs me in a more appropriate direction for contentment.

Ups & Downs - A Carnival Ride Called Life

So much has been happening so fast that I haven't had time to blog. That makes me sad. I started this blog so that I could write something everyday. Most days I don't feel like I have anything to write. Its not like others that I have read, who have reader intimidation, I have only a few readers, if that. I do have a couple of things rattling around in my brain that probably could be vented here. I have a close friend whose marriage is falling apart, whose husband has decided that his happiness trumps the happiness of her and their children and who is barely keeping herself contained while she has to work 60 hrs a week and pretend that she doesn't want to curl up and die. I suffer with her, albeit in silence. My estranged grandmother has decided to pop back into my life after several tense years apart, including the three since my mother's death. She, my mother's mother, has apparently decided that she should tell me NOW that she loves me. A letter arrived in the mail 2 weeks ago. I did write a return letter and effectively skirted by the issues in our past to fill her in on the present in the politest way possible. This week I received another letter to which the first sentence said,"I didn't really think you'd write back." What? What does that mean Grandma? Does that mean that you are happy to hear from me? Or does that mean that you didn't want to actually hear from me but wanted to make yourself feel better by throwing the ball into my court and point back to this moment when someone asks about me? I haven't decided what to write back to her. My sister, who I have had a treacherous relationship with in the past also, has been appearing on my doorstep several times a week since we moved into the new house. Things have been good, sister-like even, because she has started homeschooling her oldest son due to his Cerebral Palsy. I'm glad I can be so helpful to her but I can't help my suspicious nature from wondering when it will go back to treacherous. I pray, seriously, that this is the beginning of a shift for the good for her. A major step was that she actually got her husband - who doesn't get along with my husband at ALL - to come to our church 2 Sundays ago. I'm still praying. I'm struggling with homeschooling this year because of the need to work 2 days a week. I feel like I am effectively failing to be a good teacher or employee by not having my feet planted firmly on one side or the other. Oh, and 3 ex-boyfriends have looked me up in the last 60 days. What is that about?? The first one stirred up trouble by sending his phone number and a not so subtle hint at traveling to our area on business. The second one (who wasn't serious in the first place) seems to be normal...so far...and the third one was serious enough that I told him straight away not to contact me again. What is going on anyway? Hubby thinks I am being tested. Really? I don't think so, I think it probably more like Murphy's Law. On the brighter side of life (Yes, there is a brighter side) I have been able to keep to my meal plan with only $100 more dollars spent, which means I spent a total of $250 for groceries this month! May not seem like a big deal for anyone else, but its a big deal for me because I am a starter, not so much a finisher. This maybe the first idea I've had that I actually followed through on. I've also gotten the hang of bread making and haven't bought bread for almost 3 weeks! Also a big deal because I have been experimenting with bread for over a year. Minor victories. I feel like I may have just broken even emotionally this month. I continue to pray for God's unfailing grace. It turns out that I need that more than a meal plan, a restored relationship or a clean house.