Bedtime

I have blessed with a daughter that puts herself to bed when she's too tired. It's a huge load off my parenting workload. When she's tired she just grabs a pacifier, a pillow and cow and crawls up on her bed and goes to sleep.

So now that the pacifier is just for sleeping and teething I find myself fighting the tide. Does it stay or does it go? When is a good time to break a perfectly easy and stressless bedtime routine?

I've always followed my gut and now that my head is sticking itself into parenting where I don't want it I am literally at my wits end.

I let her sleep in my bed until she was ready, drink from a bottle till she wanted a sippy cup and I still cuddle to comfort... But what if she still sleeps with a pacifier in preschool or high school?

Is this a stupid thing to worry about when she's not even 2 and very happy and slightly brilliant?

Hades

It's the kind of hot that makes your chest heavy and leaves you void of sweat. All your clothes are uncomfortable and your bed isn't relaxing anymore because it's just too damn warm. I told someone yesterday that it was like the devil came up to visit. It's that hot.

Heat doesn't go over well at my house. I'm rather inclined to heat stroke being as I don't sweat. It appears that while Layla does have the ability to sweat she takes heat very badly and doesn't eat or sleep in the right dosages.

Take yesterday's dinner of noodles, with a 3 hour nap and a random hour of play time after waking at 10 pm... That's what it's like at our house.

I could post pictures of cranky people and their sweaty hair with pillow creased faces from laying around the living room, but that seems boring, plus it's too damn hot to work up the energy.

Can I start a countdown to fall yet?

Decisions DECISIONS decisions

It's been a long week of being forced to make up my mind.

First, there was what to take to Papa Mark's BBQ for dessert, what to wear, what does the baby wear.

Sunday, it was all about what to BBQ for the Father's Day celebration at our house.

And then Monday there was the breakfast potluck at work to plan for and attend, and I also noticed at work that the position I originally applied for at work was now posted and available again.

So then I spent most of Tuesday ignoring a birthday potluck (which I ate too much at despire "trying" to ignore it) at work and trying to figure out if I am the girl who takes a job she'd like with no chance of advancement or stay at a job she doesn't like because someday she'll make more money...which by the way I am still figuring out and will have to finish figuring out soon before the job vanishs of the intranet.

Then Wednesday, mom left me a little cash to get myself lunch at work on Thursday but I decided to use it for dinner (mmm Mexican food) instead and then I sent Jon off to watch Transformer's with George after dinner and enjoyed some alone time with a terrible book (but I couldn't decide if it was bad enough to stop reading so I finished the whole thing). While he was gone I got the call from my Dr.

The Call...a non-punctuated re-enactment...

"hey allie remember when you went to the ER last month"

"ya when I miscarried" (like a person forgets that)

"they found something in your test results"

"i know one of the girls said I might have hypoglycemia and you already called about that"

"no not that. on your ovary...they found something"

"you mean the cyst I've had for 3 years that is the reason i have fertility issues?"

"oh...we knew this was there? (silence) oh yes i see it here. (more silence) well you might want to have it removed because it will be very painful when you have periods"

"it's already painful when I have periods, it's been there 3 years, is it sick or making me sick? is it making me not pregnant?"

"no it's just a cyst"

"ok.. i want to think about surgery and call you back. i kind of don't want to take more time off work if i don't have to"

"ok decide and let us know...no rush... it's not cancer"

To which I stiffled a "no shit it's not cancer you already sent me a bill for that $1000 test" but anyhow...

So now there's that to decide. And, for the record, I love my doctor and this re-enactment should in no way be reflected as a bad opinion about him.

And today at work, I learned that someone has to plan what my team does with $600 in award money to be spent as a team. Do you know how I found out? The group sent me an email asking for ideas because I'm creative. NO PRESSURE THERE *sigh*

Actually, it's been a good week... only minor drama, good food, and a lot of stories to tell my kids someday...if I decide to.

The thing about Nana's

She arrives in the morning to watch Layla with both a donut and a bagel in little brown sacks. Treats at 5 am. It's a Nana thing.

She shares sips of soda with lunch and whispers secrets as they lay down together to take a nap.

They play outside in the pool in the sun too long and sing silly songs with words made up just for them.

And they go to bed tired ... both of them.

Goat

At first when I hear the sound of grunting from the kitchen I make the assumption most mom's would make and I leave her alone to "do her business" but after a few minutes my curiousity gets the best of me... babies don't grunt that long.

In the kitchen I expect to find her struggling to move something heavy or climb something unstable. Turns out she was trying to open something difficult.

In stealth she scaled the cookbook cabinet (obvious from the things knocked over in her path) and got into my purse on the counter. She took a small pile of one dollar bills I am toting around for work and stuck the bundle down her shirt like a little pimp, after all that's where Nana keeps her phone.

At this point she's abandoned the pen she used to draw a small swish on her thigh and moved on to the big show. She found half a brownie in a zip locked bag and she is fighting with all her might to get the end with the yellow and blue make green strips open to get that chocolate out.

She was seconds from abandoning logic and trying to rip it or eat it through the bag, so I decided we might as well share it. After all, she did have a nice work out first, she earned it for both of us.

Middle Aged Monday

Today is my bosses birthday so I brought a casserole, this is a sure sign that I am a middle aged woman. If casserole is not proof alone, consider this, a primary ingredient in the casserole was frozen O'Brien potatoes and that was reasonable enough that I didn't even break stride. I'm so old.

I am old enough that this week I turned down a girls night with cards and appetizers to go to the in-laws house for a BBQ. I am so old that I had to recollect myself after cooking for everyone before I could make myself a plate on Sunday.

I am old enough that I am not concerned that my legs got cold at work and aren't as smooth as they were when I left the house but I am concerned that if I forget to go to the store after work I'll miss the good sales price for chicken.

It's a little pathetic really, when you think about how it's Monday and I am already counting down to Sunday for my 1 day off this week.

And this morning I made notice of teenagers who were in the lawn in my townhouse complex because it was 530 in the morning and kids shouldn't be hanging out at 5 am, and then I realized, I am so not cool anymore.

Her Father

I knew he'd be a good father before I ever saw him with a child. Something about him was so calm and safe, I wanted to marry him and have his children. Then he started having neices and nephews and I knew my instincts were right.

After she was born, she went to the NICU and on my request he followed her there, staying with her and reporting back to me post C-section. I didn't want her to feel alone. Part of me knew she wouldn't feel alone with him there. He was her father. She could feel it in the air, I told myself.

We brought her home and I watched him bond with this tiny little person. I watched bits of her in him and bits of him in her and I was a proud Mommy and a proud wife.

And as she grew so did their bond. She is his biggest fan and he is her biggest supporter. They have their own little jokes and routines. Things daddy's do with their little girls that help them to be strong and confident women without even realizing it.

And like him she is a thrill seeker, a loyal counterpart, witty, competative and full of life.

And they haven't even gone very far in their journey together. But, I know in my heart, whereever her footsteps lead her, he will be near enough to catch her if she falls.

Happy Father's Day Jon... if I knew then what I knew now... I wouldn't have changed a thing.

Twinkle Toes

For those of you that read here often, I probably don't have to explain my weird fascination with my daughters feet. They were the first part of her I saw in an ultrasound, the first part I could identify poking out from underneath my skin when she rolled around in my tummy and the thing I played with for months and months while I sat in rocking chair after rocking chair humming and giving her bottles. They are the part of her that she dances on, the part she points when she's feeling girly and the part that she requests being tickled when she feels silly. She uses them to push you out of the way and to kick out her frustrations and sometimes she crosses them when she sits on the chair watching TV, sit sits there just like daddy, she sits there just like she did in the womb in that first sonogram picture...and I find myself thinking...

she's so big...

she's so little...

we've come so far...

we've got so far to go...

I love her.

Q & A

Suddenly I'm like Anne Landers over here. I'm getting private comments, I'm getting emails, I even got a few text messages and calls. People want to know a few things...so here are the 10 ten answers that I have given this week.

1. Yes, I am aware that Lynn is no longer in my blog links. I still follow her blog, but I did pull the link down so that other people, who might be feeling like they have an opinion to voice over our friendship turmoil wouldn't have the ability to hop on over and put their nose where it doesn't belong so I pulled it down...for amnesties sake.

2. Yes, there are regularly posted pictures on Layla's site for family and friends, including several videos this week...but I don't do posts on FatGirlEats as often as I only post recipes when I feel like it, which is why it doesn't belong to any groups or have a following other than friends and family. But, there is a chicken thigh recipe up there now that is excellent if you're interested.

3. No, I will not be posting any more about the baby I lost and how I am dealing with that. If you want to know come over and ask or call or something but I hate it when people use the internet to keep posted from a safe distance.

4. Yes, we will be trying again soon. For updates on random daily thoughts and whatnot you can follow me on twitter where I will probably post about when we start trying in 180 words or less.

5. Work is going well. I don't know if it's a job I'd like to work forever but the benefits are good, I'm pretty good at it, and it's close to home which almost makes up for the crummy pay...so I'll be there for awhile.

6. Nope, I don't plan on posting a birthday post for my mother in law. I don't do them for everyone. I just do them when I want to...again...it's my blog...which she tells my husband she doesn't read...so that would be what we call a waste of time.

7. No, I am not going to go private at the moment on this blog. I thought about it. Then I decided I liked being a mommy blogger. So I am going to do what I like and like what I do.

8. Yes, I do watch too much Mary Poppins, thanks for noticing.

9. I can't plan out my day lately much less my week or month, so I really will be getting back to the people who put in requests for meeting of dinner/lunch/playdates as soon as I can.

10. Yes, I really did get asked all these questions.

It's Genetic

This is my dad, otherwise known as Glen, or Bubba, or Daddy, or Papa...he answers to most things. It's one of the most patient and loving people I know when it comes to friends and family you'll never find a man more mild mannered, forgiving and loyal.

But when he gets tired of having his picture taken you usually end up with the last shot looking like this one (this is an older pic from Jan 2008 at my cousin's wedding)

This is my daughter, she adores Papa, and I can't blame her because I was always a Daddy's girl myself so she had a bias introduction. After all, no one dances a jig in living room, makes you laugh, eats pretend plastic bacon or brings M & M stashes over quite like Papa Glen.

And he's taught her a lot of things already. He taught her to pretend to eat plastic food, how to blow kisses when he goes bye bye...and he taught her that look for when she's tired of Mommy taking her picture.

Love you Daddy/Papa...Happy Early Father's Day!

Letter to Another Mother

This picture is part of our bedtime routine on the over tired/over wound up nights with Layla (or in this case nights when you are covered with dinner) it has nothing to do with the post below. Thanks!

Dear Other Mother,





I hear you. Night after night you scream from 9 p.m. until eventually you are drowned out by a combination of loud TV volume, barking dogs and your own child crying. It's too late. That's why she's so brutally upset every night when you try and put her to bed. Dinner at 7 or 8 and then bedtime at 9 or 10 is too late for a toddler barely older than my own little Laylabug. She's too tired and she can't process what you want her to do and within minutes every night you and she are both on max volume.

You're making an ass of yourself. Not to say that you're not a good mother, because I don't know what kind of mother you are, but I can tell you this. No one has ever gotten calm when being screamed at to "shut the f**k up and go to bed", especially no one under the age of 3. You can hear it in her cries. She starts off with that tell tale toddler whine but your screaming works her up to the point that some nights I can hear her hyperventilating as she cries. I can hear her through my closed windows and walls, and across the small alley that divides our two buildings, did you know that?

Also, no child deserves to constantly be yelled at like they are bad for doing things children are going to do. Your son, that darling little boy I see sometimes on the balcony...the reason he doesn't come when you're calling...it's because you're always screaming like a crazy person. It isn't calming, I'm 30 years old and I don't know you and it freaks me out at least once a week. Why would anyone want to walk towards a screaming person when they know what they are doing shouldn't warrant screaming.

Please ask for help. I'll help. There are lots of people that will help. But please ask someone to help, so your child doesn't grow up with a complex and continue this cycle through his/her children. I know you don't beat them, I'd call CPS if you did. And, if it doesn't stop soon I'll be calling CPS anyhow because there is more than one way to abuse a child. You are one Super Nana away from being able to have a loving and lasting relationship with your children. But you're tired and you're overwhelmed and maybe you're even scared. I can hear it in your voice sometimes.

Let me tell you on the behalf of every mother out there. Sometimes we all lose our cool. Sometimes we all look like bad moms. Sometimes we do things we regret later no matter how big or small they are. But, most of us, we don't do it every other night at the same time.

Try something knew, read a book, change the routine, turn yourself in for parenting classes...but please stop the crying and yelling. Try just treating them like children who are loved and appreciated instead of hells risen evil sent to plague you. They go to bed every night thinking they are bad and that you hate them. Is that what you want them to remember about their mom?

Every night about 2 hours after I put my laylabug to bed I end up checking yet again to make sure it's your child instead of mine crying. I'd love to not be filled with both relief and a broken heart tomorrow night. Relief/guilt because it's not my child crying. And broken hearted/guilt because it is your child crying again is hurting all of us.

I pray for you.

Signed,
Mommy in the brown townhouse over the fence.

Day to Day

I feel like I have nothing to blog about the last couple days. Things have been good. Not to say that there hasn't been drama, my mom can attest that there has in fact been at least one moment of panic in my last week, but the thing is... it's all working out ok.

Even now... it looks like everything is ok for the time being. The baby has jammies & I have new bras (thanks mom), we have most of our bills paid/or about to be paid without worry (phew) and there is food in the fridge (including a nice selection of fresh local produce-yummy!).

There is a lot of day to day stuff going on here. Shopping with my mom, working mandatory overtime on a Sunday, long work weeks, a hubby who has to open at their job every day at 4 am for a week straight, an inability to find my other pair of work pants...stuff like that.

Father's Day is this weekend and we are going to a BBQ at Jon's Dad's on Saturday then having my Dad over to BBQ with us on Sunday. Nothing too fancy... just food and people and hopefully lots of laughter.

All those pregnant people I know are about ready to pop so I have been getting a surge of baby shower invites and have started leaving my phone on vibrate on my desk at work just in case we get the "we're in labor" text. Some of them really are that close.

My brother-in-law found a job. Hooray and God Bless. He, like me, took a pay cut but is willing to give it a good old fashioned try and I am proud of him. My sister-in-law and brother-in-law who live in Washington were recently down, bad scheduling meant Jon and Layla never saw them but I saw her baby bump and my neice for a moment at a baby shower and that was nice.

I'm making a blanket for one of my girlfriends. I keep starting over. It's not working the way I want it to. Life lesson= things aren't always going to do that.

I read a whole book yesterday start to finish after Layla went to bed and I stayed up to late so tonight I'll be in bed by 8:30.

For the people who have asked or emailed...no the friend I wrote the other email about never contacted me. So, I guess that tells you where that is going to stand for awhile being as I did all the contacting in the beginning. And, I'm ok with that.

Layla is getting so big and so grown up. She holds her pencil the right way, she sings and talks non-stop which we understand about half of, she plays pretend, colors and stacks blocks. She loves sorting flash cards, eating with both hands and water in any form. Terrible two tantrums are much less frequent. We really only had about 3 bad days. Now we get about 1 mini tantrum every couple days and it's usually because she is frustrated and doesn't have words for what she wants.

I joined Twitter. It's been fun. I also joined a "my kid, our planet, your time to make a change" group which I will be posting about later.

Dealing with the miscarraige has been uneventful. I do have a Dr's appointment in two weeks just to get the all clear to go back off red alert. I also wish I had someone I could talk to about it in that dirty curse words and long stories sort of way...but that hasn't really worked out.

And that's about it in my day to day life.

The sign

In the 21 months of laylabug's little life she's never gone potty in the bathtub or on mommy and daddy while they changed a diaper. So I shouldn't be surprised at all that she can hold it.

Today she was enjoying a very usual long bath complete with water that had to be rewarmed twice when she stood up suddenly and yelled 'all done ready' and though it was sudden I just assumed she finally got bored and cold. After all her feet were prunes.

So out of the tub we went and she wiggled about while I did her hair. I was slightly suspect when she didn't start playing w the tin of hair pretties like she normally does. Then I had her stand on the counter and I put a diaper and clothes on her.

When I sat her on the floor she ran into mommy and daddy's room and hid behind the door. And just then the potty noises started. She came out and gave me a big sigh and I watched relief wash over her. She made it.

Thursday when I get paid we'll buy a potty. This combined with the fascination of wanting to watch others go potty and applauding when they come out of the restroom are signs the times are changing. I just need to get supplies and give it a go.

Imagine how excited she'll be when we tell her she can have princess panties.

The Rains Came

The baby and I got up around 7 today after lingering for awhile in the bed sharing pillows and cuddles. I came downstairs and put a batch of blueberry muffins in the oven while she colored on the counter and had some milk. Then we brought our muffins into the livingroom, a rare treat for laylabug, and I put on Mary Poppins to demands made in the form of tap dancing like a penguin. Just as I turned to go up stairs to change for yard sale shopping, I heard it, a steady trickle of rain drops on the sky light at the top of the stairs. With a reluctant sigh I opened the front door to see a steady flow of rain falling down out front marking the end of my yard sale plans and a good time to air out the house. So now laylabug is alternating between dancing to the movie and pointing out the screen door and saying wow. Oh well, we'll still have a good day, just without 25 cent 2T clothing.

25 cents

Tomorrow I'm hoping that Layla and I can hit the local yardsale circuit. With the weather still nice and Father's Day right around the corner I am hoping that those people with hidden stashes of 2T clothing dust off the storage tubs and put them out for sale in the front yard.

We've been very lucky with baby clothes. In the beginning there were a lot hand me downs and so I started right off the bat buying clothing in bigger sizes whenever I found something I liked and storing it for later. So 18 months and 12 months and all the months before that we were pretty well stocked before we needed clothing.

Then it hit. The SPURT. Every kid has a growth spurt at some point, Layla had 3 or so as a baby but this last one was a real winner. Now it appears that most of her clothing is too short in the legs or torso and although it's still too big in the waist half the time, we're probably still going to be moving to 2T faster than I expected.

So it's time to do what I do best. I'm going to comb the thrift stores, check the baby consignment shop, hint to shopping addicted Nana's and start the yard sale circuit before I got back to working weekends...and if I am lucky... my kid won't have to have high waters come winter.

Sunday I'll be working some overtime. I wasn't happy about it when it got assigned to me but I could use the money and if I work my cards out right, by the next round of yardsale shopping I'll have more than $20 to invest in Layla's wardrobe.

I'll post later this week and let you know what I got with my $20.00...wish me luck!

Today's Stretch

Money is tight. Around here it usually is. So life at our house is a lot about stretching the dollar, finding good cheap fun and taking pride in knowing in the end you can count on your family when you need to...even if you wish you didn't need to. And it's a cycle of ups and downs with a never ending set of obstacles and challenges that push you past you limit and then draw you back into focus over and over again. And it's ok.

I have to keep telling myself that sometimes. It's ok. I tell it to other people a lot, too. It's ok.

Today might not be the day your ducks are in a row. It may not be the day your horoscope promised you full of romance and adventure. But today is today, just as God created it. It just is.

And it's ok.

Tomorrow you might have to stretch 10 cents into a dollar. Tomorrow you might be able to jump for joy and forget your woes. Yesterday might have been full of the good old day's stories. Yesterday might seem easier and more fancy free looking back.

But it probably wasn't...back when it was today.

So keep that in mind. And tell yourself once for me... it's ok.

My 10 Blog "commandments"

I have been tagged for at least 3 blog things that I haven't done. So here is the first one...to tide you over until I get to writing the other three.

For this one you are supposed to write 10 blog commandments for your blog. The definition of a commandment for this tag is not biblical but just 10 things that you live by...non spiritual...everyday stupid life things. Like... I believe scented detergent is for morons...those type of things (I have no opinion on scented detergent, this is just the tag I picked). Also, as these are just opinions for YOUR blog these rules don't apply to anyone else's blog so reader's don't be offended and posters don't hold back.

Then you tag some ONE person to do it. I tag Courtney because she tends to do things when she is tagged...eventually. (just kidding Courtney...your great)

1. It is not ok to blog things you didn't write just because you find them clever. This includes "email forwards" and "cute stories you read somewhere" to your blog and pass them off as today's entry.

2. It is not ok to pass other people's blogs or pictures off as your own.

3. Link love is good. Link-a-holics anonymous should be sought if you are one of those people who puts a link in every other sentence. I don't want to have to click through the entire internet to read a blog...so you shouldn't have to either.

4. When blogging from your phone, predictive text must be checked over and over and over. (I'm horrible about that, since I got my new phone I post a lot more blogs with wrong words and typos)

5. It is ok to have a spiritual journey or an enlightened experience post. But posting every day about God gets old to read, even God took a day to rest.

6. When posting about your child do not post things they might find on the internet when you are 90 and put you in a rest home because of.

7. If you are looking for someone to blame, you probably shouldn't have a blog. Likewise, if you have found someone to blame you probably shouldn't post it on the internet until you talk to them at least once.

8. Post regularly. People don't want to check every day to see if you made your once a month post.

9. Not everything is a big thing. Some of the best posts I've written/read are about nothing. In fact the best post I ever read was a letter to someone's car from them written as if the car (which was a lemon) was a person who had had an affair. I bet that girl just had a bad and boring day that day.

10. Everyone has a soap box. Baby-wearers. Co-habitational sleepers. Breast-milkers. Anti-kidders. Every single person has things that they are for or against. Be brave enough to post who you are and write about what you believe.

Layla a Whisper

I'm teaching Layla to whisper. I am teaching her for two reasons. The first reason is rather practical, inside voices and quiet tones are sometimes appropriate for different places and she'll need them as she grows up and learns to never shut up use her words. The second, and main reason (as far as I am concerned) is that I think it's adorable, charming and altogether endearing when little kids whisper secrets into your ear. It is amazing to me the sort of things that little kids will dare to whisper that they wouldn't otherwise say. For ever child I've ever been really close to I can still vividly remember at least one whispered secret.

"I'm Nana's favorite"

"I got M & M's my pocket"

"I know when Santa comes soon he's bringing me a puppy"

"I wuv you"

and finally this week Layla whispered for the first time to me while sitting on my lap...she whispered...

"Layla a whisper"

And while I'm sure that she'll whisper some pretty adorable things to me over the next couple years when she gets old enough to cup her hand and lean into my ear and say her hidden secrets.

It couldn't have been more adorable if I'd planned it myself, and I will always remember it.

**~~~***~~~***Unrelated regarding the picture above ***~~~***~~~

I'll also always remember the other day when I kept asking her to look up so that I could take a picture. When she finally did look up, it was to shush me so that I would stop asking. She's a kicker that one. She knows what she wants.

Classic

I am not an artist. I don't draw anymore, I don't paint anymore, I stopped making quilts, and I stopped knitting blankets for the sake of being artist a few years back. I stopped because the most I made the most beautiful thing I ever imagined and I knew I could never make anything better.

She is my art. She is my expression of hope and life and love. She is a manifestation of my belief that the world will someday be beatiful and pure and filled with light. She is everything classic about awe inspired paintings and everything modern and bold in great photography. She is architecture without limitations on space or time and she is sculpture created by hands more godlike than mine. She is live theatre without the script showing brilliant features of comedy, romance and drama all at the same time. She is movement graceful and life seen through fresh new eyes.

How can I top that?

Calm

Yesterday Layla threw a 21 minute fit about not being allowed to have a 2nd sip of my pepsi. Once time puts had been delivered and calm had settled over her tear streaked face we went upstairs and I made her a bath. I let her slip into the warm water and with a tiny little cup, a tall bathtub filled with warm bubbles and an empty bottle she found her happy place. For 20 minutes she played quietly. I didn't even talk to her. When I pulled her out she was a different child. She ate dinner and played until bed time with only a few seconds of normal toddler crying when she didn't want to sleep because we had company she wanted to play with.

After she went to bed, I found my happy place as well. I went to the kitchen and laid out a selection of foods and got ready for game night with our friends. Despite normally being an in bed by 9 person I stayed up well past 11 and played games, laughed and used adult language with reckless abandon. I went to bed happy and woke up the same way.

With eveyone going to bed happy it was no surprise that we all woke up the same way. Jon and I visited while I made Layla's eggs and he made his toast. Then he went to work while Layla and I had playtime, went grocery shopping, had snack and even now as I prepare for lunch there hasn't been 1 single big fit.

I know part of the fit problem is terrible two's frustration and inability to communicate what she feels. I wonder how much worse it was the last 2 weeks because there was drama all around us. Did my emotions fuel hers?

Because now that the toxic is gone so seem to be the extremely broken temper tantrums.

I Feel More Free

There was a moment when I was writing my last blog where in full anxiety attack horror I clicked "save to draft" and thought, I can never post that. Ironically, I clicked away and started reading blogs that I like to read. Reading anonymous secrets and blogs about how freeing writing the truth can be written by normal every day mom's with regular lives they are swirled up in made me come back. I read about feeling more free.

I needed to be free.

So I went back...and I re-read and edited and kept going and then I hit publish and in a moment of almost sheer panic I thought about deleting it. So I walked away...just five minutes to breath, I thought.

And I didn't go back. Within the five minutes I felt so much better.

My blog has always been about me writing what I feel. The romance of early marriage, the fears of difficult pregnancy, the worries of not having a job, the truth about dealing with in-laws and ex-laws, my family & friends, my God & my sin, my love, and even...gasp...my anger.

I needed to get it out. And, now that it is out it may get ugly, but at least the ugly isn't trapped inside of me.

And for that... I am thankful

Fit

This picture has nothing to do with the post below I just really liked it.

I thought that I had every right to be offended. I lost a baby, and then my BFF lost her sense of BFF code and dropped off the face of the earth because of her life drama. She had cats to rescue, she was sick, there was a death of someone she knew (but didn't talk to every day) and there was a family full of things to deal with. For a while I tried to hold the torch, I explained things that might have been misunderstood, I tried to call and talk it out, I even sent a few follow up texts checking in on her even thought it hurt desperately that she didn't think once to check in on me.

She took a few things wrong, she didn't take a few hints at all and then about two days ago she flipped out about something that had nothing to do with judging her and despite me pointing it out has not replied or apologized for being shitty since. I've gotten the "I quit", "I'm over it" and "I'm tired of being judged" texts but they were all before I judged her...so then I laid in bed at night and a comment someone else made earlier in the day is haunting me...

When I finally get angry, I can't turn back. It has been two weeks and suddenly I am livid, I am vividly aware, and I am the one that's over it, quitting and tired of being judged. So now the angry she thought I was... I actually am. In fact I am sure I am more angry then she could possibly be and I think I've got good cause to be.

I carried my own burden, I grieved alone, I checked in when I wanted to check out because she wasn't there to be checking in on me, I tried & in many ways I failed. I may not have been perfect but I was honest about what I did and did not feel. I was honest about what I did and did not blog. And I didn't find crap reasons to get off the phone before the conversation was finished, or stop writing back when the topics got hard. But, I think I might be done now.

I keep remembering the last person I loved enough to call my BFF and how he HAD cancer, and he HAD no use of his legs, he HAD a toddler that he was leaving behind and a death sentence medical condition. He went through rough stuff and so did I, but we always kept calling, we kept talking, we kept caring. I didn't use the death of both grandma's, an aunt and a friend to let me slip away. And he didn't let being sick, or tired, or confused get in the way.

And while I didn't compare this BFF to the last one at all for a long time, now that I have, I don't see how it could ever be the same. I mean I know what it's supposed to feel like. It's not supposed to feel like crazy is sending you text messages. It's not supposed to feel like obligation trying to make it not hurt. It shouldn't be one sided and it is. I shouldn't wonder if someone is suddenly on drugs or in desperate need of drugs.

The part the hurts the most is she made me a God-parent and I know that after this post there is a good chance that the crazy will stir up around me creating a fire so big I may never see him again. And I do love the kid to death. But, I don't think it would be healthy for him or my kid to continue to deal with his mom the way we have been lately...or haven't been as the case may be. Drama does not make Mama happy, and when Mama ain't happy ain't nobody happy.

I've decided it was all talk. It was long calls and promises made but not kept that dug so deep into me that I would need a real and honest apology to be ok with it. From best I can tell she doesn't have one of those in her and probably thinks she deserves one as well. And for somethings I do apologize, I apologize for the 1, well now 2, blogs I actually wrote about you. I apologize for not being about to pull myself back together enough to be the one that got over it and put it back together. And I'm sorry that now that I've started to think about it, I've compared you to every friend I've ever had.

I apologize the real way, with no excuses. There is no but's in my version. There is no good reason why I let the anger take me. It is mine, and I own it. I own every non-Christian horrible part of about it. I own it in my prayers for forgiveness and the tears I have shed. No but's... it's real.

I remember the end of high school when our friendship broke for the first time. I vividly remember it and I never talk about it even when she asked. She would cry and say she was sorry but she was doing somethings and going through things at the time and I would tell myself that it was ok, she had a reason. Now that it's happened a second time, I decided that maybe that's just who she is.

And I am who I am...

so maybe that just doesn't fit.

Tuesday Again

Another week, another work day, another close skim with drama and another near miss with the finances. We just keep marching along, we form rank, we make lines straight and steps well counted just to keep moving forward, together. The most important things, we talk about them in moments of deep concentration and complete trust with our spirits entangled. The small things we let ramble on, we watch them trickle over the surface, we hope they don't gather into pools and puddles of muck and desires unfilled.. Then moons change and tides change and winds blow and the change rustles electric on the breeze and the words not typed become powerful, the prayers barely whispered cling to hope and we wait through warm summer nights and cold winter storms, we wait for autumn leaves or spring flowers and other signs of time passing taking us closer. There will be better times, patience reminds us, there always is. "You must wait", God tells us," until your path I make clear. "

Ahhh!

This being a parent of a toddler thing is exhausting. Between the bi-polar mood swings and the overwhelming lack of fear for her own enclosing doom... I spend a lot of time being freaked out and stressed beyond normal barriers.

Yesterday she fell down some stairs just walking, then did a daredevil jump off the side of the rocking chair that didn't end well 20 minutes later and spent the time inbetween crying hysterically and then giggling and jumping on the couch.

I just never know what to expect. I feel like I live with Robin Williams or something.