So, it is no secret, that I have been contemplating my life for months, if not years. Picking it apart, bit by bit and dissecting it, hoping to figure it out and find some answers. Last week I went over relationships with the men in my life and tonight, I am going to dissect the women.
Now, there is two main women in my life, my mother and my grandmother, both played intrical parts in who I am today, the amazing, beautiful, and definately strong woman that I am.
As, I write this blog, I want you to know, it has become my testiment, the book I always wanted to write, but not being an auther, this will have to do. My mother did the best that she knew how, as her mother before her. Both were young and emotional, and maybe were not well equipped with the skills that they needed to raise the children that they had so young, but they tried, and for that I give credit, where credit is due.
My grandmother is my hero, she grew from nothing but dark secrets and shame. But she had more love in her heart than all the Valentines cards produced by Hallmark and a faith in God that could put any priest or pastor to shame. She was the strength of our family for several generations and what kept us as intact and from falling apart, most of the time.
In saying that, she dealt with her own emotional demons, she did her best but she was only human.
When my mother was a tween, I believe about twelve or thirteen, my grandfather got in a horrible car accident. When the parimedics found him, they described the scene as a man with his brain wrapped around a tree. My grandparents at the time, were probably classified as blue collar, hard workers, but they lived paycheck to paycheck. My grandfather, worked in a lumber factory, if I remember correctly and was the breadwinner of the family, my grandmother was busy raising their four children. After my Pap paps accident, my grandmother had to remember the love for her husband and the commitment that she made when she was sixteen, and dig down deep and not only uproot her children to be closer to family for support, but raise her four children, take on odd jobs to pay bills and if that wasnt enough, teach her husband how to walk, eat, brush his teeth and even wipe his ass. She did all of this because of her faith in God and her dedication to her family.
In saying this, her plate was full, bless her heart, she is my hero, but all of this is impossible for one person to fulfill. A couple years after my Pap Paps accident, a miracle according to my grandmother happened and she had another child. Now she had five children and my Pappy to take care of, She cleaned schools, became a nanny, was spread very thin, to say the least. She did her very best and I will never meet another person that could give as much as she did, I miss her every day and even named one of my daughters after her. (Another is named after my grandfather) But a person can only give so much and I dont think all of her five children got all of the attention that they might have needed.
I believe that my mother did her best in raising me. But she had her own emotions that she carried from her childhood and I dont think she ever properly digested it because she was pregnant with me at the age of seventeen. Who is mature at the age of seventeen, No One.
Now, I am not going to start naming her mistakes, just like I would hope my daughters will not name mine when they are in their womenly years and think they have all the answers. But I think there is something that needs to be said about figuring yourself out, atleast a little bit before you bring a little person into this world.
My mother was never able to grow up, she never had the chance to figure out who she was and what she liked, she became a mother in highschool and that was it.
For years, I have tried to not be like my mother. But daily I do something that reminds me of her.
I speant a lot of time looking at her mistakes and not until I became a woman did I realize who she was and why she is who she is. She is a product of her mother, just like I am a product of her.
Once I understood that, I gained a respect for her that I had never had before.
So many times we judge people and say that if we were in their shoes we would do it differantly, but we dont really know, and that doesnt really matter.
My mother, now that I am an adult has become one of my best friends. We deal with our pain and grief, farely regularly, in a healthy manner I believe. Sometimes, it is painful and sad, but I think we have an understanding for each other and there is no judgement, just love and understanding.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Apparently, I Need a Daily Song
So, I guess I am taking a break from John Mayer for at least a couple hours. Tonight, I am in a country mood, going back to my emotional roots.
I am also a Lady Antebellum fan, and this is the song that is tickling my fancy this late evening.
I am also a Lady Antebellum fan, and this is the song that is tickling my fancy this late evening.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Song of the Night!
I reserve the right to change my mind. This is the song that has my head swaying and bobbing tonight.
Remembering
John Mayer has a sweet little spot in my soul, reminds me of someone very special to me, good memories, great times. Every time a new album comes out or I hear a song on the radio, I remember many a glass of red wine and I get a little warm and fuzzy.
Anyways, Mr. Mayer released his new album last month and it has gotten quite mixed reviews. I personally, like it. Being a country fan, I like that he is adding some of that into this album. I like the oldness of the songs, long story short, Born and Raised has definitely been playing in my house for the past couple of weeks.
As of today, The Age of Worry is one of my favorites, but it could probably change tomorrow or the day after, just depends what my mood is like.
Anyways, Mr. Mayer released his new album last month and it has gotten quite mixed reviews. I personally, like it. Being a country fan, I like that he is adding some of that into this album. I like the oldness of the songs, long story short, Born and Raised has definitely been playing in my house for the past couple of weeks.
As of today, The Age of Worry is one of my favorites, but it could probably change tomorrow or the day after, just depends what my mood is like.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Wednesdays Thoughts
So lately, I have been thinking a ton about relationships. How I handle them, how I was in past ones, why they didn't work, my strengths, weaknesses, etc... Now keep in mind, I have absolutely no conclusions or solutions, there was no light bulb moment when I realized that I had finally formulated some type of answer, I am simply evaluating.
In my opinion, how we handle ourselves when dating and in a romantic relationship, usually stems from our relationships that we have had growing up with our parents or family. It is pretty typical for a girl who grew up without a father to seek out male companionship when she is older to fill a void, along with countless other reasons. I myself have usually been very privy to the attention I receive from the opposite sex, many a shrink has reminded me this is because I never really had a constant male role model. It probably, took me about fifteen years of dating to be comfortable enough within myself to actually be honest and stop pretending to be something that I wasn't. My biggest dating mistake was fake it and try to make it work. If he liked biking, I liked biking. He wanted to snowboard all weekend, I wasted money on a new board and took lessons, hating it the whole time. If religion was his thing, I was in church every week, even hosting a few prayer meetings. Maybe, I was just desiring acceptance, the crazy thing is when each relationship was over, I was completely shocked. Wondering why he didn't want me, I tried to do all the things he liked, wasn't that enough? It took a long time for me to realize, that he didn't like me because I was lying, not just to him, but to myself!
This past week was Father's Day, for afore mentioned reasons, this ignited the wheels in my hamster wheel to spin a little faster. I started thinking about all the fathers in my life. My biological father whom, I have recently come in contact with and met all over the past year and a half. The asshole my mother was married to when I was a child and who deserves no more verbiage than just that. The man my mother is married to now, whom has treated me as his daughter since day one. Has been there over the past twelve years whether I needed his checkbook, a funny joke, a drink or just his love. The father of the man I married, who taught me strength and made me feel like I was the daughter he had always wanted. My two "baby daddy's" one who would murder me if there wasn't a chance of him ever being caught and the other who still wants to be with me even after everything. And even the ex boyfriends whom I thought were the one at some point and are themselves, fathers now.
Quite a plethora of men for me to contemplate, all played a part of me being who I am today, even the ones I wish that I could erase, they still helped mold me in to who I am.
Now, romantic relationshipwise, there are the three big ones, according to most, that means I am done, supposedly you are only supposed to have two great loves. Anyways, to my girlfriends I refer to these men as 11/11, 12/12 and last but not least 1/1, their birth dates. I always thought that was kind of cool and have a running joke with myself that I can never fall in love with a man unless his birth month and date are the same.
First, is 12/12, my first true love. He was the guy you saw from across the room and you wanted to swoon, looked like James Dean, sang like Harry Connick Jr. We were actually in first grade together and I was his first crush, he would sit by me during story time and I wanted nothing to do with him. Then when I started college he would tease me and call me chicken legs or bean (short for beanpole) and he was my dream come true, I could not imagine life without him. We were together for four years. The shitty thing about growing up is, most of the time you change, the kids we were when we first fell in love, were not the same kids when we were twenty two and realized, crying our future was not meant to be together. He decided he wanted to be, and now is, a pastor, and lets face it, as amazing as I am, one thing I am not, is a pastors wife!
A few years later, a couple bad relationships, too much weed, probably way too much drinking, a beautiful baby girl and some growing up later, I fall for 11/11. Now this is the one that might have made any sense to anyone else, but felt so right to me. Oddly enough, we might have been "together" for a month, maybe, I am not even sure if there was even a title, I don't even think there was any "I love you's" til years later. But I was completely smitten, he was hot, smart and he could see right threw me. I played all my games, pretended to be something I wasn't, not only did he not fall for it, he called me on it, told me to grow up and be who he and I both knew I was. I can't really categorize our relationship by a title, except for someone I loved to the core of my soul. If I had a date, I would cancel it because he called, if I had a boyfriend, I would leave him to experience some of the best nights of my life, I could never say no to this man, he was the only thing that felt right and made sense.
But as they say, all good things come to an end. And by complete chance on St. Patty's Day, I meet 1/1. By this point, my heart had been through the ringer, I had since learned that I would never meet who was right for me, unless I was me. And this one, he worshipped me, the only problem was and I didn't realize until after we were married is, he hadn't learned how to be himself. He was me, years earlier, the one pretending to be the person that I wanted. Whatever I wanted to do we did, whatever I wanted to have, he bought for me, if I wanted to talk about something, he listened like it was the most amazing thing he had ever heard. Eventually, I realized he didn't know, didn't remember any of my stories, couldn't remember the things that I liked. we had great times when times were great, but even strangers can do that. He loved me like the air that he breathed, but had no idea why, and for the first time ever I was actually being myself.
Weird, how life turns out, how relationships start and end. Eb and flow. I wonder where I will be in a few years, what will have I learned about relationships then? What words of my silly little wisdom will I be blogging about? I am sure I will still be dissecting my life and judging myself. Hopefully, then I will still feel as strong as I do now and not worrying about my future too much. Because, there is one thing that I have learned. No matter how I mess up, in relationships or otherwise, I am still me, learning from my mistakes and pretty fucking amazing!
In my opinion, how we handle ourselves when dating and in a romantic relationship, usually stems from our relationships that we have had growing up with our parents or family. It is pretty typical for a girl who grew up without a father to seek out male companionship when she is older to fill a void, along with countless other reasons. I myself have usually been very privy to the attention I receive from the opposite sex, many a shrink has reminded me this is because I never really had a constant male role model. It probably, took me about fifteen years of dating to be comfortable enough within myself to actually be honest and stop pretending to be something that I wasn't. My biggest dating mistake was fake it and try to make it work. If he liked biking, I liked biking. He wanted to snowboard all weekend, I wasted money on a new board and took lessons, hating it the whole time. If religion was his thing, I was in church every week, even hosting a few prayer meetings. Maybe, I was just desiring acceptance, the crazy thing is when each relationship was over, I was completely shocked. Wondering why he didn't want me, I tried to do all the things he liked, wasn't that enough? It took a long time for me to realize, that he didn't like me because I was lying, not just to him, but to myself!
This past week was Father's Day, for afore mentioned reasons, this ignited the wheels in my hamster wheel to spin a little faster. I started thinking about all the fathers in my life. My biological father whom, I have recently come in contact with and met all over the past year and a half. The asshole my mother was married to when I was a child and who deserves no more verbiage than just that. The man my mother is married to now, whom has treated me as his daughter since day one. Has been there over the past twelve years whether I needed his checkbook, a funny joke, a drink or just his love. The father of the man I married, who taught me strength and made me feel like I was the daughter he had always wanted. My two "baby daddy's" one who would murder me if there wasn't a chance of him ever being caught and the other who still wants to be with me even after everything. And even the ex boyfriends whom I thought were the one at some point and are themselves, fathers now.
Quite a plethora of men for me to contemplate, all played a part of me being who I am today, even the ones I wish that I could erase, they still helped mold me in to who I am.
Now, romantic relationshipwise, there are the three big ones, according to most, that means I am done, supposedly you are only supposed to have two great loves. Anyways, to my girlfriends I refer to these men as 11/11, 12/12 and last but not least 1/1, their birth dates. I always thought that was kind of cool and have a running joke with myself that I can never fall in love with a man unless his birth month and date are the same.
First, is 12/12, my first true love. He was the guy you saw from across the room and you wanted to swoon, looked like James Dean, sang like Harry Connick Jr. We were actually in first grade together and I was his first crush, he would sit by me during story time and I wanted nothing to do with him. Then when I started college he would tease me and call me chicken legs or bean (short for beanpole) and he was my dream come true, I could not imagine life without him. We were together for four years. The shitty thing about growing up is, most of the time you change, the kids we were when we first fell in love, were not the same kids when we were twenty two and realized, crying our future was not meant to be together. He decided he wanted to be, and now is, a pastor, and lets face it, as amazing as I am, one thing I am not, is a pastors wife!
A few years later, a couple bad relationships, too much weed, probably way too much drinking, a beautiful baby girl and some growing up later, I fall for 11/11. Now this is the one that might have made any sense to anyone else, but felt so right to me. Oddly enough, we might have been "together" for a month, maybe, I am not even sure if there was even a title, I don't even think there was any "I love you's" til years later. But I was completely smitten, he was hot, smart and he could see right threw me. I played all my games, pretended to be something I wasn't, not only did he not fall for it, he called me on it, told me to grow up and be who he and I both knew I was. I can't really categorize our relationship by a title, except for someone I loved to the core of my soul. If I had a date, I would cancel it because he called, if I had a boyfriend, I would leave him to experience some of the best nights of my life, I could never say no to this man, he was the only thing that felt right and made sense.
But as they say, all good things come to an end. And by complete chance on St. Patty's Day, I meet 1/1. By this point, my heart had been through the ringer, I had since learned that I would never meet who was right for me, unless I was me. And this one, he worshipped me, the only problem was and I didn't realize until after we were married is, he hadn't learned how to be himself. He was me, years earlier, the one pretending to be the person that I wanted. Whatever I wanted to do we did, whatever I wanted to have, he bought for me, if I wanted to talk about something, he listened like it was the most amazing thing he had ever heard. Eventually, I realized he didn't know, didn't remember any of my stories, couldn't remember the things that I liked. we had great times when times were great, but even strangers can do that. He loved me like the air that he breathed, but had no idea why, and for the first time ever I was actually being myself.
Weird, how life turns out, how relationships start and end. Eb and flow. I wonder where I will be in a few years, what will have I learned about relationships then? What words of my silly little wisdom will I be blogging about? I am sure I will still be dissecting my life and judging myself. Hopefully, then I will still feel as strong as I do now and not worrying about my future too much. Because, there is one thing that I have learned. No matter how I mess up, in relationships or otherwise, I am still me, learning from my mistakes and pretty fucking amazing!
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Dream A Little Dream..
So my dreams got a little weird lately! Last night, even though I was "sleeping" for nine hours, I was completely restless. And here is the run down of my night, weird as it was.
First of all, I would like to say, I have thought I was one that could control my dreams, I have literally, sought counseling on this very subject.
In saying that, here we go.
First dream. I am in my actual bed, in my existing apartment. In my dream, I was sleeping in my bed and someone was breaking into my window. Now normally, I am not scared, I have been a single mom before, stopped watching scary movies a long time ago, for that very reason. Not to mention, since I moved out of my husbands care, I have bought a gun, a tazer and have a flashlight that doubles as a billy club, not to mention the 105 pound dog that sleeps beside my bed every night. But yet, I wake up sleeping sideways in my very comfy queen, facing the window in my dream, literally in pounce position! I awake, thinking, what are you afraid of this is not like you.
I ponder this thought for a while, wondering what is actually going on in my thought process. I obviously am not afraid of intruders, for the most part I have taken every possible safe precaution. So what am I really afraid of.
Then an hour or so later I fall back to sleep.
And then the weirdness really begins.
First of all I am in a boutique in a mall of some type, with my mom, who aka, lives 3000 plus miles away in reality.
So I am on an escalator of sorts and I am exiting it. It is circular, in a weird dream manner and I step up to exit. As I do, a Hispanic couple cuts in front of me. They make some comment about being taller than me, and I try to joke back saying that since I am shorter I will take my place in the back. The female doesn't realize that I am joking and thinks I am insulting her and starts to get in my face. At this point another female gets involved and starts to make racist comments about me being white, etc.. I try to explain to both, that I was not trying to insult anyone, I am simply trying to get off this damn escalator and I am tired and need to get to a birthday party for my soon to be 4 year old twins.
Now, this second woman has pulled a knife on me and all of a sudden there are police involved and guns and people flying all around, I am a hostage and getting poked in the back by a gun. ( I later woke up and realized it was Molli's knee grinding into me)
For the rest of the dream I spend most of my time dodging "bad guys" flying through bullets and saving civilians that don't have my obvious dream powers.
Oddly enough, I wonder what is it..
I am starting to think maybe I am not as strong as I think I am. Or maybe I need to man up and be stronger?
Am I a victim in one dream, or the hero in another?
Maybe, that is what my life is about, wondering which role I am going to play.
First of all, I would like to say, I have thought I was one that could control my dreams, I have literally, sought counseling on this very subject.
In saying that, here we go.
First dream. I am in my actual bed, in my existing apartment. In my dream, I was sleeping in my bed and someone was breaking into my window. Now normally, I am not scared, I have been a single mom before, stopped watching scary movies a long time ago, for that very reason. Not to mention, since I moved out of my husbands care, I have bought a gun, a tazer and have a flashlight that doubles as a billy club, not to mention the 105 pound dog that sleeps beside my bed every night. But yet, I wake up sleeping sideways in my very comfy queen, facing the window in my dream, literally in pounce position! I awake, thinking, what are you afraid of this is not like you.
I ponder this thought for a while, wondering what is actually going on in my thought process. I obviously am not afraid of intruders, for the most part I have taken every possible safe precaution. So what am I really afraid of.
Then an hour or so later I fall back to sleep.
And then the weirdness really begins.
First of all I am in a boutique in a mall of some type, with my mom, who aka, lives 3000 plus miles away in reality.
So I am on an escalator of sorts and I am exiting it. It is circular, in a weird dream manner and I step up to exit. As I do, a Hispanic couple cuts in front of me. They make some comment about being taller than me, and I try to joke back saying that since I am shorter I will take my place in the back. The female doesn't realize that I am joking and thinks I am insulting her and starts to get in my face. At this point another female gets involved and starts to make racist comments about me being white, etc.. I try to explain to both, that I was not trying to insult anyone, I am simply trying to get off this damn escalator and I am tired and need to get to a birthday party for my soon to be 4 year old twins.
Now, this second woman has pulled a knife on me and all of a sudden there are police involved and guns and people flying all around, I am a hostage and getting poked in the back by a gun. ( I later woke up and realized it was Molli's knee grinding into me)
For the rest of the dream I spend most of my time dodging "bad guys" flying through bullets and saving civilians that don't have my obvious dream powers.
Oddly enough, I wonder what is it..
I am starting to think maybe I am not as strong as I think I am. Or maybe I need to man up and be stronger?
Am I a victim in one dream, or the hero in another?
Maybe, that is what my life is about, wondering which role I am going to play.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Cheers to You!
so we have all had an ex boyfriend or girlfriend, that meant something to us, even though we did not end up with them, or haven't yet.
This song seems to resonate feelings of the ex that we loved and got away. A special person, one that we want the best for.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Me and My Thought Process
So tonight I was talking to a girlfriend from my childhood. We have known each other since about 8 or so years old. We lost contact over the years but came back in contact a few years ago due to the wonders of facebook.
Anyways, this morning she called me and I missed her call and was able to call her tonight after children were in bed. I asked her how she was doing and she let me into her life. Her husband of seventeen years had just visited a girlfriend of twenty years ago who is dying, any day now from brain cancer.
She told me that her husband had visited his ex last week who he hadn't seen in 18 years, but she wanted to say goodbye, and neither one of them wanted to deny her that.
She had talked about her feelings about it and how most of her friends had been negative about her husband visiting his ex to say goodbye.
Being the girl that I am, I saw it differently and said as much. What if this woman just wanted to say goodbye to the loves in her life. She is thirty five and her life is done, I would want to have some resolution.
And this is what started my wheels a churning, who would I call right now if I was lucky enough to have a deathbed to call people to.
I could think of at least one ex boyfriend I need to have my final words with. There are a few friends I haven't talked to in years that at least deserve a note or phone call.
Maybe, I should tell them now.
Live, Laugh and most of all Love.
Anyways, this morning she called me and I missed her call and was able to call her tonight after children were in bed. I asked her how she was doing and she let me into her life. Her husband of seventeen years had just visited a girlfriend of twenty years ago who is dying, any day now from brain cancer.
She told me that her husband had visited his ex last week who he hadn't seen in 18 years, but she wanted to say goodbye, and neither one of them wanted to deny her that.
She had talked about her feelings about it and how most of her friends had been negative about her husband visiting his ex to say goodbye.
Being the girl that I am, I saw it differently and said as much. What if this woman just wanted to say goodbye to the loves in her life. She is thirty five and her life is done, I would want to have some resolution.
And this is what started my wheels a churning, who would I call right now if I was lucky enough to have a deathbed to call people to.
I could think of at least one ex boyfriend I need to have my final words with. There are a few friends I haven't talked to in years that at least deserve a note or phone call.
Maybe, I should tell them now.
Live, Laugh and most of all Love.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Can't Turn Pandora Off
I definitely should be going to bed soon, but the music and emotion keep flowing. Here's another song that is gripping my emotional heart right now.
Hate Dancing Alone
I have a lot to say right now, but dont really have the energy to express it. I am about ready to go to bed, and this song just came on. It struck a chord with me, so here you go!
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