Times, they are a-changin'

For the past few months my life has been steadily changing. In January I was a stay at home mom who didn't really do anything besides take care of the kids and try to keep the house clean. It had been my life for 6 years.

Most people would think the life of a stay at home parent is bliss. It's not. At least for me it wasn't. It was boring. It was aggravating. It felt like I was living someone else's life. I sat here and I dreamt of the day that everything would change. I didn't care how it changed really, just that it did. I didn't want to be a stay at home mom. I didn't want to stay home all day and watch Dora the Explorer re-runs. I didn't want to listen to my kids fight every waking minute. I didn't want it.

Maybe you think that makes me a bad mom, but at this point, I really don't care what anyone else thinks of me. I know I'm a good mom, I'm just a tired one. A mom that isn't cut out to be June Cleaver. A mom that has to have something in her life that makes her feel like she has a purpose. Sure, you could say that raising kids is a purpose, but I want another purpose too. Kids grow up. Eventually that role would be over when they became more independent and they didn't want mom around as often anymore. My oldest is pretty self sufficient already. My middle one is too when he wants to be. My youngest is almost there. He wants to be independent, but he hasn't quite mastered the finer points of it yet.

In 14 years, if things had stayed the same, I would have no identity. My kids would be grown and hopefully out of the house spreading their own wings. And I'd be the stay at home mom with no kids to stay at home with. I refuse to be that person; That pitiful mother who doesn't know what to do with herself once the kids move away.

Another point here is that there isn't enough Valium in all the world for me to be able to handle this stay at home thing a moment longer. There aren't enough anti-depressants in all the world for it either. I am the type of person who needs something outside of family, outside of kids. I'm not a touchy-feely person and my personal bubble needs to stay intact at least 50% of the day. Sure I cuddle and love on my kids, but when they're attached to me 24/7 I start to lose it. I've spent 7 years trying to keep some small part of myself from losing it completely. I barely got out alive.

To go along with that non-touchy-feely thing, I'm not a commitment kinda gal apparently. I've been married for 7 years and it's been a battle in patience and endurance for me. Maybe I just haven't met that one guy for me yet (if one such person exists and believe me, I have no desire to go looking), but once the newness wears off I'm over it. I married for all of the wrong reasons, so that probably doesn't help things either and yes, it is all my fault.

I married my husband for security. I wasn't attracted to him in the way I should have been. He wasn't overly attractive, but he was good looking enough. His personality was so different from the type I would ever be interested in, as were his interests. I married him because he had always kept a steady job, he was dependable, he didn't do drugs, he didn't drink, he wasn't a video game addict, and he was dumb enough to ask me. He was, what I imagined at the time, the perfect father for my oldest son. He was what my son needed and by God I was going to get him.

Seven years later and I'm at the end of my rope. I was so wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. I thought that I could (happily enough) be with him for the rest of my life. I thought that it would be tolerable. I thought I could pretend to have feelings I didn't have. I thought everything would be alright. I thought that the friendship we had would be enough. It wasn't. Everything I thought was so totally and completely thrown right back in my face over the course of our marriage and I realized how much of an idiot I truly was all along.

So, in late February/Early March he finally started putting the pieces together. He finally allowed himself to see how miserable I was and how miserable I was making him. He finally started asking questions. So one night in February (or March) he heard the truth for the first time. The truth that I had for so long wanted to tell him, but wasn't quite ready to really tell yet. I mean, my youngest is only going to be 4 in May. If I'm lucky he'll get into pre-school, but if I'm not...you see why I waited for so long. I didn't see how I could be a single mom, keep a job, go back to school, and all of that with a child not in school yet.

Now I guess it's all just going to have to work itself out however it may because regardless of my youngest's age, it's happening. It's like hearing those words before you've found a good hiding place "Ready or not, here I come!"

It's a scary place to be in, but at the same time it is so very freeing. I don't have that trapped feeling as badly anymore. Now I'm just impatient. At the moment, we're still living together and it's hard most days. We don't hate each other, but the static is there. There's an elephant in the room and it's breathing all the air. We're both suffocating.

I started classes in March to get my CNA certification. My test date is May 25th. It seems so far away. Like the future is just teasing me. I spent years putting in applications with nothing coming from them except a waste of paper and time. Do I want to be a CNA? No, not really. But I know that there will always be a job available for me out there after this class. It may not be a job I like, but it'll be a job that pays the bills until I can continue my education and get something better. It's the only viable option available to me at this time. The only way I'm getting out of this house. It's the life raft I'm clinging to desperately while I wait for something more substantial.

So yeah, my life is changing. But none if it feels like a bad change to me. I will be free and won't have to live this lie anymore. I'll eventually find my identity again. My husband will hopefully find someone who truly loves him because he is actually a great guy. My kids hopefully won't be horribly scarred from the experience and won't spend their entire adult lives in therapy. And somehow, someway I'm going to make this work because it's going to feel so damn good to be free!!

Unfriendable

Sometimes I wonder if some integral part inside of me is broken.

I was looking through a friend's Facebook photo album today and all of a sudden the realization came back to me. No, it didn't hit me for the first time as I've wondered this about myself many times before for several different reasons, but it did hit me nonetheless.

As I sit here talking to friends I've never met about the pros and cons of different alcohol and the statistics behind beer consumption there are people out there in their 20's, 30's, 40's, etc who are still best friends with their group from high school...some of them have even been friends since Kindergarten.

I'm in no way saying that my friendships are any less valid and I'll be the first to admit that I love the friends I've found in the past 5 years and I'm closer to them than I ever was with any of my high school friends. But I can't help but feel that small...well huge really...that huge tug from the envious green eyed monster inside of me.

To be honest, I don't really know what I'm envious about. That they've found a way to stay close after so many years or that they have a large group of friends they can see whenever they want to.

I had a blast hanging out with my friends in high school, but after high school I lost touch with every single one of them. After my oldest was born it was hard to find time for friendships and all of a sudden I had nothing in common with them anymore. I didn't worry about it. It was what it was.

I got to hang out with a few of my closest high school friends not long ago and that was awesome! We had a blast laughing, reminiscing, and getting to know each other again. The group of friends that I got to see had stayed close with each other over the years. I was the one that had to do the relearning, but it was nice. I enjoyed it and I want to be able to do it more often.

With that said, I have a wonderful group of friends that I've grown very close to over the past 4 or 5 years. They're from all over the globe, but most of them are in the States, though different states than I reside in. There's Alabama, California, Finland, Germany, North Carolina, Florida, Louisiana...the list goes on and on. I have five super close friends and I've only gotten to meet one of them.

Is it strange to have such close friends I've never met or is it more of a sign of the age we're in? I wouldn't trade these five best friends for all the rice in China or all the gold in Fort Knox (I should probably say China again instead of Fort Knox, huh?), but dang it, I'd really like to be able to actually see them and hang out with them from time to time. I've only ever even heard two of their voices. I went years without knowing what one of them even looked like. Is this strange?

I find myself yearning for something that I can't have. But at the same time I wonder if I even truly want it. I guess I'm scared. It's easier this way. It's less scary. What if those five girls were living closer to me, would we still get along if we saw each other so often? Would we grow to resent each other or feel that one was a burden or some other negative emotion that would, in the end, ruin the friendship?

It seems that all my life my friendships have been like a changing of the guard. I find myself displaced, then picked back up again by a new group of friends. I believe I've touched on this in a previous post, but I'll say it again. My friends from elementary school all found new groups of friends in middle school and my friends from middle school all found new groups of friends in high school. It seemed for every new school, even though I went with the same people, I had a new group of friends.

Am I unfriendable? I find I ask myself this often. Well actually if I want to be completely honest I actually ask myself if I'm unlovable. Is there something about me that drives people away? That makes them lose interest? That leaves something to be desired? I don't know, but it seems apparent.

I don't look down upon myself. I don't think I'm that bad really. I have confidence, but I'm not cocky or conceited. I know I am a good friend. I go out of my way to help my friends however they need me. Is the truth then, that I attract people who will use me? I'm not talking about my friends I've found on Facebook, as I know they've never used me for anything. They've never asked anything of me that they wouldn't be happy to give back to me tenfold should I need it. An ear, a shoulder, a virtual hug, advice, a laugh...that kind of thing, that's the kind of friendships I've made on Facebook.

At the same time, I don't think any of my school friends were "users" either. I think they genuinely cared about me as I did them. So what went wrong? I have no idea.

So I guess I find myself, yet again for probably the millionth time, wondering...always wondering what is so wrong with me that I can't seem to keep a friend that I actually get to see face to face.

I'm an animal person

As the poorly named title to this one states: I am indeed an animal person. I have a soft spot in my heart for those cute little critters with four legs and a tail. I can't help it. I'm afraid it's in my blood, genetics and all. To be honest, I think I like animals a lot better than I like people.

Why? Well, here's a few reasons: Animals won't talk about you behind your back. Animals don't drown you in drama. You'll never have to worry about an animal not paying you back that $20 you let them borrow last week. Most animals are content to be quiet and sleep so you can actually hear yourself think. They're low maintenance; food, water, bathroom, love...that's really all they ask for. They won't ask for a new car when they're 16. You won't have to send them to college. You won't have to get to know their boy/girlfriends. When they misbehave it's legal to spray them in the face with water or lock them in the bathroom. They don't hog the remote control. They won't run up your cell phone bill. You don't have to give them a bedtime, they go willingly. You don't have to worry about what to feed them, they're happy with whatever's in the bag.

In essence, pets are much easier to deal with and get along with than people. You don't have to work at it to make a dog love you, they just do. You want kids? Get a cat. They're bi-polar from the get go. They're anti-social one minute and all up in your face the next. On second thought, if you want kids you should get a dog first. If you want the most true to life personality of a toddler, get a German Shepherd or a Lab. By the time those kids you were gonna have would be teenagers, that dog might have calmed down a bit. This is where the cat comes in. Cats are angsty and needy all at once. Typical teenage behavior, no?

So you've got your elderly dog and your angsty cat, what are you supposed to get when those kids you didn't have would be going off to college or starting their own families? Get some fish. They only need you at feeding time and change the water time. The rest of the time you can enjoy looking at them. In other words, if they were those adult children, they'd call you when they needed more money, a place to stay, or a babysitter. And you'd get to enjoy looking at the pictures they post to Facebook of how much fun they're having now that they've left you with an empty nest.

See what I'm saying? Pets are easier all around. Cheaper too.

So, about those pets and being an animal person...on Tuesday I had to take the pup and both cats to the vet. The cats were getting declawed (picture my carpet and furniture doing the Hallelujah chorus) and the dog was getting spayed. When any type of surgery like that is done, they keep the animals overnight...this totally sucks.

So Tuesday night, there I am laying in bed feeling extremely lonely. On a normal night I have a cat laying beside me by the edge of the bed, a dog on my other side, and the other cat curled around my feet. Tuesday night I had nothing but the emptiness of cold sheets. Yep, I had nightmares all night long. I don't remember what happened in these nightmares, but I do remember my animals weren't in them and they royally sucked and I kept waking up gasping for breath, heart racing, sweat pouring, and not a single animal to pet on while I calmed down.

I don't normally have nightmares. Heck, I don't normally even remember dreaming when I wake up, but Tuesday night it's like all those nightmares that the animals have kept at bay came after me with a vengeance.

True, I wasn't completely alone in the house. My two older kids were asleep in their room. The leopard geckos were doing whatever they do in their cages, and the fish were doing their thing in their tank. But the fact is, the bed was empty. A king size bed is never meant to be empty. Ever. Hubby works at night and the animals are more than happy to take up the extra room in the bed for him...but they weren't there.

I hope you learned something in this post, as I know I have. Next time any of the animals need surgery, I'm spending the night at the Vet's office in the kennel.

Reconnecting

You know what I think is the funny thing about growing up? Things change. Yes, this will be personal, will probably embarrass me, and will reveal some names.

Yes, I know that sometimes that's a bad thing, but right now I'm talking about those good things. The good things like reconnecting with someone you went to high school with. Maybe it's someone that you weren't even close friends with, but now that you're older you can see through all of the high school drama and intrigue to see the real person.

In high school, outside of my close friends, I really only thought I knew my peers. When really all I knew was their shell.

For instance, I knew that Andrew Nance was by far the best looking guy I'd ever laid eyes on. I had a crush on him from the first day I saw him in my 8th grade band class when he came in from the high school to help us with percussion. On that day, I was thanking my Maker for my decision to switch from trumpet to percussion in 6th grade. It was bliss being on the drum line with him, but I always felt like a total fool around him. But, you know, I didn't really know him. He always seemed so out of my league and mysterious. I never took the time or found the courage to delve any deeper into his personality. I was fully content just to be in his presence and look at him all period. Still to this day I wonder if he ever knew I had a crush on him or if he just thought I was some weird chick who acted like an idiot when he was around.

Speaking of the band, people think that it's just for geeks, but let me tell you they're wrong. You will never see as many naked people all in one place as the band room before a game. And there were some really hot guys and some really pretty girls in the band, and they weren't shallow either. They were quirky, fun, loud, and each had an electric personality. Now, back to the topic of this post.

I also knew that Cassie Farmer had the best hair EVER and I would have traded a kidney to have it. Miranda West always had the prettiest eyes and I always loved her clothes, I wanted to be her. Rachel DeVore could play the piano like nobody's business and she had the sweetest soul and prettiest smile. I despised Andy Stringfield but only because I was completely and totally jealous of him, not because he was a bad guy, actually he was a great guy, but he could sing his heart out, he could play the piano, and he got the quads his Freshman year when I'd begged for them and was older, the quads were really the pebble that knocked the whole mountain down.

You notice the pattern here? I wonder if every high schooler has a jealous heart. I liked these people, even if I didn't admit it, but I was so envious of them or so star struck that I never took the time to truly get to know them. There were also so many guys who I crushed on (but not as hard as Andrew or for as long) but never got up the nerve to even think about talking to them.

It's been almost 10 years since what would have been my Senior year. In that time I think we've all done a lot of growing. I know I have. My husband hates Facebook, but I have to admit it's a lifeline for me. I've reconnected with so many high school friends, realized that even some of my best friends in high school want nothing to do with me now, gotten to know people I went to high school with (but wasn't really friends with) better, and met some of the most awesome people ever that I now consider to be my best friends even though they all live miles (and sometimes even oceans) away from me.

I guess what I'm getting at is that everyone changes. Some for better, some for worse, some for reasons they can't control, but everyone changes and grows in some way during the long years trying to really reach adulthood after high school.

I'm 26 and I still feel like there's so much more growing to do, but I hope I'm on the right track. I found my first grey hairs the other day. My youngest son will be starting school next year. I'll be going back to school next year. I'm learning to step outside of my comfort zone and make that first leap. I've always been outgoing and friendly, but those high school hurdles are sometimes hard to cross.

Who would have thought that the funny guy who I thought was gonna kill me (a practical joke that was hilarious after I learned it was a joke) would become an even closer friend 10 years after high school was over? Who would have thought that I'd have anything in common with and actually really enjoy chatting with the mysterious and admittedly hot artistic guy that everyone of the girls in school admired from afar? Who would have thought that I'd lose all of my best friends after high school, only to get to know them all over again?

Reconnecting is pretty awesome. Seems we do a lot of that through life. As we all change and grow at different rates and different times we move in and out of each other's lives as the years pass. We learn what's important and who is important. We learn to cherish our true friends and dismiss the others. You know what, I wonder, if I live to be a hundred will I still feel like I'm learning something and growing everyday? I don't think life would have much meaning if there wasn't always some new revelation taking place. I hope that I continue to learn and grow for as long as I live so life will never feel empty and stale, even if I don't make it to a hundred. And I hope that there's always new and old friends to meet along the way (and I so totally don't mean I want Alzheimer's or dementia so everyone is new to me). With those thoughts laid out on paper (or screen as the case may be), I think I can finally get my brain to rest so I can get some sleep.

Snow Days and Sunshine

I remember when I was little and in school myself how wonderful it was to hear the news broadcaster tell me that my school was closed because of snow.

As a young girl in elementary school I got giddy thinking of all the fun I'd have sledding, making snowmen, and tossing myself down in the fluffy white stuff to make snow angels. It didn't matter if it was below freezing and my chin was frozen so I couldn't talk without a lisp, I was in heaven. And let's face it, a frozen chin and numb fingers are much better than math any day, right?

As an adolescent in middle school I viewed snow days a bit differently. I still loved to play outside in the snow, but now I didn't like the cold part, or the wet part for that matter, that came with the snow. And besides, as a preteen I was too "cool" to play outside, at least where anyone could see me. So as a preteen snow days meant lazy days curled up on the couch with the remote control and the phone.

As a teenager in my first years of high school snow days meant freedom. I could sleep until noon, or later, if I wished. I didn't have to worry about Latin or Algebra homework that wasn't yet completed. I could be lazy or go hang out with my friends. It was too cold and nasty outside, in the mindset of a teenager, to even think of venturing further than my friend's car and the warmth and good times it promised.

When I was almost 17 years old I had my first child. It was the last month of my Junior year in high school. I had had my license for less than a year, I hadn't even mastered Algebra, and life had changed dramatically.

That summer I didn't even think of snow days. I wondered what in the Sam Hell I had gotten myself into. Freedom wasn't in my vocabulary anymore. I had taken freedom and run with it, then tripped over it, and wound up in quite a mess within a year. That summer I started to mature into an adult, though a reluctant one.

I went back to work four weeks after I had my son. I was a waitress at a local restaurant. I loved the people I worked with, but the pay was very meager. In the eyes of the Child Labor Law I was an emancipated teen so I was able to work the hours of an adult. Autumn came back around with its falling leaves and brisk winds warning of colder temperatures, but still snow days were very far from my mind.

In fact, I wasn't even thinking about going back for my Senior year in high school. Due to being on homebound education at the end of the last school year I had failed Chemistry and English. I needed four credits of English to graduate and I couldn't take both English classes in the same year. On top of that, I was mortified that I had failed my favorite subject, the one I was best at, and I didn't want to be in a Junior English class. So I decided to drop out.

Truancy is the word they use when you decide to just not go to school. Apparently, it is against the law. Luckily, I had begun to take GED exit-option classes through my high school before the Truancy police started sniffing at us. When the court date came around I presented the judge with my completed GED. I immediately started attending the local community college and continued working.

Winter came as it always does. With it I'm sure there were snow days, but snow days no longer applied to me. It didn't matter if it was snowing, I had to work. My life was work, school, home. I didn't have friends anymore. I didn't go out. I worked and I studied and I tried to care for a colicky baby. I was 17.

Before you think I did this all alone, let me correct you. My momma took care of my oldest son while I was at work or school. I worked from 4pm-2am and went to school from 8am-12pm. I will admit that she did most of the mothering during that time because she was the one there to take care of him. I was determined to provide for my child. I didn't want to be a burden on my family. I didn't want to disappoint them again. I also wanted to try to provide a better life than a high school drop out could for my child. During this time, I didn't know who I was.

I got laid off and had to find another job. I couldn't find anything that would work with my school schedule, so I dropped out of college after only two months.

The years blurred together. There was sunshine, there was rain, and there were snow days. My son was old enough now that snow days meant something again. They didn't mean a day out of school anymore. Instead they meant dragging that old sled back out of the garage and playing with him. Seeing the happiness in his eyes when he discovered the joys of a fresh snowfall. Again, the frozen chin and the numb fingers meant nothing. The huge grin on that 2 year old's face meant the world.

I met a wonderful man and got married when my oldest son was 3 years old. My son walked me down the aisle. My parents gave me away. Life began anew.

Fast forward to the present. I now have three boys. My oldest is 9, my middle one is 5, and my youngest is 3. We've moved a hundred miles away from our hometown and family. My husband adopted my oldest son a few years ago and now he carries the same last name as the rest of us. My husband has never treated him any differently, he loves him as his own blood. My son, in turn, loves my husband as his own blood and calls him Daddy. My oldest son has something that most kids don't. He has two mommas and two daddies that love him to the moon.

My two older sons are in school now and get to experience snow days. We don't live in the country anymore, but in an apartment complex, so snow days never equal as much fun. But still, they're there to be had. Snow days again mean no school and that makes most kids happy. The same feelings that I had as a child. The promise of a day for themselves, the joy of playing in that cold wet stuff, and the relief of not having to conjugate verbs or work out long division. The ability to choose how to spend the day.

Today they got out of school early. They've had a lot of snow days this year, to the point that my oldest is sick of them, but still I think they're magical even if I'm as tired of the snow days as he is. Again I find the snow more of a bother than a joy, but I can still remember how awesome it was as a child to hear those freeing words. I wonder though, how will they feel this summer when they have to make up those days? Only time will tell.