My Short Hair Journey of 2014

2014 was the year that I finally had the courage to just go for it. I mean, I had already died my long lovely locks permanent black over a year before because I was very committed to my 2013 Halloween costume...Morticia Addams. If there was ever going to be a "good time" to try out short hair, this was it. After about twenty five years with a similar long hairstyle and at least a whole year of thinking about cutting it all off, it was time to put up or shut up.

I decided I didn't want to shut up. I wanted to do something. I needed...something. Looking back I know now why I did it. It came to me about halfway through this journey. I am always saying no. I am always sacrificing myself for my children and for others...as mothers and many caretakers by nature do. I would not change this about myself ever but I still felt like I had no control, in a way, over anything anymore. Life was getting too heavy and the weight of it was hurting me. By cutting off my hair I was able to feel a kind of freedom that I hadn't had in a very long time. It was almost as if I was being slowly renewed all year long.

Now, I love long hair. It just feels right. When I picture myself for any reason ever...I have long hair. I know down to my core that I will have long white hair when I am an old lady. It is the only way that I can imagine it. But, I have always enjoyed living vicariously through others short hair dos. Other women made it look so cute and effortless. I always thought that with my face shape I would be crazy to try anything too short or drastic with my own hair. But, short hair just looked so darn fun. And if I wanted long hair again someday I should probably hurry up and get it over with so that I would have plenty of time to grow it all back out nice when I'm done playing with it, right?

January 2014

So, here I am, early 2014. My favorite way to wear my hair was a large messy braid to the side just a little. I miss being able to do this so much. I will have it back...but not black. I got that hair color out of my system. Enjoyed it very much though. Made me feel just a little bit more bad ass.

February 28th, 2014

Here is one more just for fun. I like how it was shiny silky straight in this one. Went almost to my chair when I sat. Rockin' the look for my hubby's band gig at Whiskey Junction. 

March 25th, 2014

March 25th, on a Tuesday night, I grabbed a good friend, we went for a shot of liquid courage and then to my (gasp!) hair appointment.

March 25th, 2014

Not that long after...Eek! Enough to donate even. It felt so different and so light. Within one day I could already feel a difference in my neck muscles. A pleasant but unplanned surprise. (And don't look now...But Holy Roots Batman!)

May 2014

About two months later I had my second haircut, about the length to my chin. Went a tiny bit shorter than the first time, which brushed my shoulders. I decided in the beginning to take this whole process as slow as I needed to. I wanted the full experience of short hair but I also didn't want to regret anything and be depressed about my appearance. I mean, come on, as a mother who has birthed five children, there is plenty to be physically unhappy about. I don't need to add my hair to the list. Ha! This second haircut was actually my favorite one from the whole year. It felt closer to the real me compared to all of the other ones...not including my long hair, of course.

August 6th, 2014

I had come that far...and felt braver still. Why not go crazy and expose the back of my neck to the world? This haircut felt fun... and sassy. It only looked this cute for a couple of days though. The amount of time the stylist took in order to make my hair look this good was a little disturbing. I barely have time to brush my teeth every day. There is no way I could keep up with this for any length of time. Seriously. Before this whole short hair escapade my hair maintenance routine was basically to wash it every three days or so and brushing it out after it had dried. Then, keeping the knots and snarls down to a minimum to achieve maximum sexy rock star bed head hair. But, mostly just pulled back in a ponytail or bun because, you know, kids n' stuff.

September 27th, 2014

Now, I was on a roll and feeling rather unstoppable so...bleach blonde happened. Yay! And then I shaved the left side off during the cancer charity benefit I hosted last September for sweet Ashlyne. I am glad that I had already begun my short hair journey by this time because I was able to show my support in this way but also know that if I had still had my long hair, I most likely wouldn't have had the guts to do it for her. Now I had the guts.

October 20th, 2014

Years ago I NEVER would have imagined I would EVER have hair short enough to slick back sexy like Jaime Lee Curtis...but, there I was, getting all dolled up for the Pearl Jam concert with my hubby and thought, "Here's my chance!" I felt like a different woman. And by this time it wasn't just on the outside, but on the inside as well. I had a confidence again. I was getting my groove back. And, I was still so angry with 2014 but, felt like I might just be able to go out kicking. I was...Alive.

November 15th, 2014

Then, November rolled around. The shaved side was starting to grow out a little unevenly and the holidays were right around the corner so...I got one last haircut. One last short do to get me through. Brought the sides closer to a similar length in the hopes that the growing it all back out process goes smoothly. So, there it is.

My journey is complete and I am pleased with the results...not the physical hair results but rather what I gained in knowledge about myself, my strength, my drive. I was not expecting that at all. But what do ya' know? Here I am. A little wiser.

Today January 20th, 2015

"Alive"

By: Pearl Jam

"Son," she said, "Have I got a little story for you

What you thought was your Daddy was nothin' but a

While you were sittin' home alone at age thirteen

Your real Daddy was dyin', sorry you didn't see him but I'm glad we talked"

Oh I, oh, I'm still alive

Hey, I, oh, I'm still alive

Hey I, oh, I'm still alive

Hey, oh

Oh, she walks slowly, across a young man's room

She said, "I'm ready for you"

"I can't remember anything to this very day 'cept the look, the look

Oh, you know where, now I can't see, I just stare"

I'm still alive

Hey I, but, I'm still alive

Hey I, boy, I'm still alive

Hey I, I, I'm still alive, yeah

Ooh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ooh

"Is something wrong?", she said

Well of course there is, "you're still alive," she said

Oh, and do I deserve to be?

Is that the question? And if so, if so, who answers, who answers?

I, oh, I'm still alive

Hey I, oh, I'm still alive

Hey I, oh I'm still alive

Hey I, oh I'm still alive

Thankful

Thanksgiving. It is my favorite holiday. It encompasses all of my favorite things: cooking, eating, family, gathering, hubby getting the day off to be with us. While I sit here and reflect on 2014 I am near tears. This year was not my favorite. It was one of the worst years of my almost 37 to date. And still...there is more than enough to be truly thankful for.

So what am I thankful for? My family. My kids are healthy and the ones in school are doing well. The flu recently hit our house and it wasn't so bad. Everyone made it through without incident. My kids are well behaved and kind and respectful. My husband is still my best friend. We have been together for over 12 years and I know in my heart that we will grow old together and have a big pile of grandbabies someday. (Hopefully not for a long, long time, though.) He works hard and provides for us which allows me to be a stay at home mom. A fact that I am grateful for every single day. There are not good enough words to thank him for this. It is a blessing to say the least. My Mother-In-Law. She has helped us so much and comes over to give me a break sometimes. That is pretty priceless. My Mom. I won't get into all the reasons here in this post or we would be here all day and I'm sure you all have plenty to do. And my Dad. Not my story to tell but I hope he knows that I think about him everyday and am wishing him the best.

My home. We moved this year and with the help of our amazing realtors we were able to find exactly what our family needed. With the help of our family and friends we were able to move a household of 7 people and 3 pets and I was dreading it. It all worked out.

My friends. I have some of the best friends a woman could ask for. They are so much fun and are wonderful listeners. Calgon take me away! Right, Nikki?

I have a roof over my head and plenty of food to prepare for all my peeps. We don't live extravagantly or anything but we have what we need and that is good. Real good.

I am thankful for Ashlyne's current condition. The cancer that had spread to her spine, lungs and throat are now gone and all that is left is the original tumor in her leg, which her family is hoping to find out asap is operable. (Ewing's Sarcoma)

I am thankful for my blog. I haven't been able to write in a couple of months because life has been so very busy. but I know it is here waiting for me whenever I need it.

I am thankful for my contributors so far to my Food With Love project. The generosity of others allows me to do what I love, which is cooking for others. I don't have the funds to buy groceries for another family on a regular basis so donations are very important to the cause. I have the time to cook and appreciate the help I have received so far. It means the world to me and the family that I cook for.

I am thankful today for a couple local ladies who have decided to feed the homeless kids of Anoka today. A whole Thanksgiving feast. And I love that they are allowing me to cook a few things and bring them by. Women after my own heart. I am really hoping this turns into an annual thing. I think it is a wonderful way to spend Thanksgiving. In my home we celebrate the Saturday before so this is exactly the kind of things I would like to do with my own kids on a day like today.

And there it is. I am looking forward to 2015 very much. I am ready to put 2014 behind me but am thankful for a day like today where I can look back and find the good in the bad. Today is a day of perspective for me. Hope yours is wonderful, too. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

My Insignificant 9/11 Story

Image from: http://framework.latimes.com/2012/07/19/world-trade-center-july-1986/

September 11, 2001: It was a regular ol' morning during my former life. I had recently decided to go back to college starting in late August 2001. I was a young mother with two sons ages three and one. I was still with their father at this time, living in a tiny two bedroom apartment in a not so great part of town. I considered myself an average American and still do. Just living life, day by day, hoping for the American Dream someday.

My long time boyfriend was already gone for the day, either at school or at work, I really don't remember. My boyfriend's brother's on again off again girlfriend came over in the morning to watch our sons while I went over to the local community college for my morning Biology class. I was, of course, too busy to turn on the television in the mornings. I drove to school listening to a CD in my car instead of the radio. Arriving at school just before class began, I cut straight through the courtyard and into the Science building without stopping in the cafeteria for my usual morning cup of cheap coffee. Class began at 9:00 AM. I remember my professor was just a couple minutes late. Hindsight has me guessing he had just found out about the attacks in New York and kept his poker face on for us, the students, keeping us in the dark for almost two whole hours so we would concentrate. Class was done right around 11:00 AM and I swung by the cafeteria before I headed home.

It was not even lunch time yet but the room was completely packed...and nearly silent. The chairs were full and all pulled up near the televisions. Students and staff sitting completely still and staring open mouthed up at the screens. I stepped closer, tentatively, to see what the big deal was. I remember feeling nervous in my stomach. It didn't take long to catch on. The news channel just kept playing the footage over and over from different angles. I only stood there for a couple of minutes and each time they showed the planes hit the buildings all I could think was that they were showing us people dying, over and over. Those buildings had been full of life. Everyone had already shown up for work that morning. I was instantly nauseous. Usually, in a situation like that I would change the channel, wait to read the news story or forget about it all together. I prefer not to watch people or children or animals being hurt in any way if I can avoid it. I do not condone it's excessive coverage and try not to support these kinds of stories in any way. But this day...this day was different.

I didn't stick around to eat and study in the cafeteria that day. I got in my car and drove home to my babies as fast as I legally could. I turned on my own television and was slowly educated on the tragic events of the morning. I hugged my babies more than usual. I was consumed by the news for the rest of the day, into the evening and then the wee hours of the next morning. I cried off and on. I didn't know anyone involved. I was crying for the strangers lost, the families left behind and the new world we were sure to be heading into. Far away news stories don't usually effect me like that. Still, I cried for my own children and for the unpredictable world I raise them in.

Fast forward thirteen years. Does that event still effect me? Yes. Yes it does. Today is the anniversary. If I had my way today, my family and I would be hiding. I would have asked my husband to take the day off of work. I would have kept all of the children home from school. We would have stayed home and had a nice day together, hiding away from the world and it's hideousness at times. But that is no way to live. I can't live that way. I would never make my family live that way. I do not feel like this every year but the world is still not at ease. Especially in recent months. ISIS claims that they will be here soon. They may or they may not. They may be here already. Any which way, I must go on with everyday life. I will not project unhealthy fear onto my family. I will not allow the bad guys of the world to have that power over me. It is truly out of my control. But, I am a mom and surely not the only one who has crazy thoughts now and again, however out of our control the situations may be. We lay awake at night and think of everything. Everything.

So, why bother sharing my insignificant 9/11 story? Because I am convinced that I am not alone. I am not the only American mom or parent that has thoughts like these. Not the only one who lays awake at night hoping and praying that my children never have to experience a day in the world like 9/11. I am not the only one who on a day like today almost doesn't let go of the child they are about to send away on the school bus, off into this crazy world that keeps us on our toes. And definitely not the only one who counts down the minutes until their children and their significant other makes it home at the end of the day, unscathed and unchanged. I just choose to write about mine as it helps me get through days like these.

So, in remembrance of those lost and those effected, here's to you and to us and to them. I will never forget.

(Note: The photo I chose for this post was not from that day but still represented what I wanted it to.)

Moving to Tears

What I should be doing right now: packing. What I am doing right now: blogging. Why? Because I am on schedule so far and know that the next three weeks are going to be crazy, busy and tiring. Writing calms me, so here I sit. Just for a little while.

We spent the last year and a half preparing our house to go on the market. Silly looking back that we never got to some of those projects sooner so that we could have enjoyed our home in the condition it is now for a little longer. But, isn't that the way it goes? You come in with big plans and grand ideas only to learn a little about your self along the way while life and responsibilities consume you all the while. Yeah, I know we aren't the only ones. We live and we learn.

We learned that we are not fixer-upper kind of people. When we purchased this home, our first, eleven years ago, we were 21 and 24 years old. Feels so long ago and went by in a flash at the same time. We were so young. I remember the excitement and joy and feelings of pride that we were actually homeowners and had something that was ours to call home. Our first real and large purchase together as a couple. I remember getting the keys at closing, after getting hand cramps from the ridiculous number of signatures we had just done, and driving to our new home as quickly as legally possible. We slept on the floor that night, camped out in what became the dining room, happy as clams, just the two of us.

We became a family here. We were able to give my two amazing boys from a previous relationship a normal, stable and loving place to call home. This house is where our real lives began together, the four of us. My husband built deeper relationships with my boys in this house. We got a dog and named her Lucy. (And two cats within the following couple years) The boys were 3 and 4 back then and they have grown so much here; physically, mentally, socially and every other way possible. We have had good times and bad here but no regrets to speak of. I am so attached to this house, as if it too were a part of the family.

I fell in love with my husband, again and again, a hundred times over in this very house. We have laughed together, cried together, had deep and meaningful conversations in almost every room. We have grown together, discovered more and more about each other and made serious life decisions here. He asked me to marry him in this very kitchen. I, obviously, said yes. I planned our wedding here; hand made invitations at the coffee table, filled favor boxes with my boys in the booth, meticulously placed every flower into place with my own two hands and sat at the computer with my soon to be husband for hours burning a large pile of CDs with carefully chosen songs to use as our programs. The limo picked us up in this driveway to begin our honeymoon. So much love has happened here.

I conceived my three younger children in this house. I found out I was pregnant in these bathrooms. I told my husband we were expecting within these walls. I ate so much food and felt the babies kick me a million times while living here. I sat in this living room during the early signs of labor, waiting patiently to go to the hospital, to meet them and bring them here...to bring them home.

We have celebrated countless holidays, birthdays, family gatherings and momentous occasions in this house. I have cooked many many meals and desserts in my kitchen. I could not even begin to estimate the number of people who have been fed here. One of the ways I show love and appreciation is through my cooking and there has been a lot of that. A lot is probably a bit of an understatement.

Music has been made here. Many a local musician and friend has rocked these cellar walls. Life lasting friendships have been formed here, many over music.

There has been a tremendous amount of joy while living here. There has also been a significant amount of heartache. I would not change anything from the past and I am going to be so very sad to leave this home, to let it go. At the same time, there are a couple of things that I hope to leave behind and let go of as we take the next big step of our lives and move on to our next home. The next home that we plan to stay in forever. The next home that, many years from now, our grandkids will come to visit.

It is going to be different in so many ways. It is bigger and better for us as a family and knowing how much we need it makes the letting go a little easier. I know that I am going to cry when we leave our current house in just over two weeks (in fact, I already did a little crying just writing these words). I will probably cry the night before we move while we are camping out on the floor one last time, this time with the teens, so we can all say goodbye to the unique little blue house that has been a part of our lives for so very long and served us so well. I also know that I am going to cry when we walk into our new home. The home that we have worked so hard to get to. The home we wished so hard that we could give to our children. The home that is going to change our lives for the better in so many ways, but we will get into all of that another day. It will be different and the same.

We are the same. We will continue to grow as a couple, as people and as a family. We will continue to love, laugh and cry. I will continue to feed the masses. We will continue on with our lives from a couple miles away. I am looking forward to this new chapter and adventure of our lives. I am going to try to keep my chin up as I go pack up and begin to let go of this place I call home. First, I will go stuff my pockets full of Kleenex.

2014: A Love/Hate Relationship

If it wasn't for a couple of pretty great things happening in the last couple of weeks, I would have told 2014 to stick it where the sun don't shine, take a flying leap off of an extremely tall bridge and pound a significant amount of sand. Pardon my rant and forgive me if I am vague in my explanations of just how poorly 2014 has treated me so far. Just because I am a blogger and, therefore, share a little too much information at times...doesn't mean I always get to tell you all everything. I wish I could, for me...not you (smirk). I enjoy blogging and writing in general even more so. It feels good to get things out and refresh my brain every once in a while. But, some things I have to keep close, private and sacred. Not just for myself but for those who I care for deeply and would hate to disrespect in any way, shape or form.  So, there it is.

Anyway, I haven't really had a chance to blog this year. As some of you know, I was taking online college courses that started in early January and as much as I was enjoying them, they pretty much consumed all of my spare time, which was a pretty pitiful amount to begin with. All was going perfectly and I was acing both of my classes up until mid April. I hate to say this, but after a couple of things happened that were/are pretty devastating to me...I ended up with a D and an Incomplete. Sigh. I have taken this all pretty well. I feel badly about the way my classes turned out but at the same time I know that life happens and I tried my best. Like my mom says to me sometimes, "Life just gets all lifey on us." It did. It really, really did.

So, one of the bad things that happened is behind me now, over and done with, thank goodness. The other thing...well, it kind of feels like it is looming over me, hovering like a black cloud ready to release it's worst at any moment. Fortunately, with the support of my closest family and friends, I can hopefully make it out all in one piece mentally and emotionally. Time will tell.

On top of school and everything else that a mother of five must deal with, we have spent the last year or so getting our house ready to sell. No easy task with all the kiddos and three pets. But...we did it! (With a lot of help from our friends ;-) We listed our house and sold it in five days on the market. I believe I only had to get everyone out of the house for eight showings. I was dreading that part the most. Seriously, keeping the house as clean as possible and dragging everyone out for who knows how long, sometimes alone if it was during a work day for my hubby. Not to mention having strangers in my home. I had some serious anxiety over this and cried myself to sleep a couple of times during the months leading up to listing. I am so private and protective of my family and our personal space. It was hard to do but I knew deep down that we had to do it if we were ever going to get out of our too tiny house and give the kids more space. We were able to get it all done. Whew!

I guess it is not 100% for sure yet, we still have to get through the appraisal of our current home next week and then have closing day go off without a hitch in June, but these are all normal parts of the process that usually go pretty well. My husband and I also went house shopping on Sunday, found the perfect house, made an offer that was accepted and have that home inspection scheduled for Friday. Fingers crossed all of this just keeps going well and falling into place. I would love the good news to just keep coming in for a while. Really. (But I am soooo excited! The kids are all getting excited! Our new house is going to be so wonderful. And my dog is going to be so happy! I will get into all of that in a later post, though. Hee hee.)

Completely unrelated, since it has been so very long since I blogged, let's play catch up. I did audition for Rent at the local theatre. I did not make it into the show and that is totally OK. I gave it a shot and can cross that one right off of my list. I am looking forward to seeing it this summer, too.

After doing poorly in school, I have not decided if I am going to continue that particular journey or not yet. I enjoyed the classes, the learning and the daily general use of my super smart brain for something other than being a mom. Some of you may understand this...some of you won't. That's OK. It did take a lot of time away from the children and keeping up with the house and I have not decided how I feel about this yet. I am glad I enrolled in January and gave it a shot...I just don't know if it is exactly what I was looking for. I know that I am looking for something but I truly can't pinpoint it yet. Since the twins were born my life has changed so much and I am still trying to find...me? If that makes any sense.

I have not accomplished the perfect body. Ha! And I am so very OK with this. It would be nice and all, but I am so content in my own skin. My husband adores me, and I him. My kids love me, regardless. I am 36 years old and not afraid to say it, ever. I own it. Every gray hair, every new wrinkle. It is me, it is who I am and I have lived and earned every single year under my belt.

I am still trying to decide a second song to play and use in my DVD audition submission to The Voice. There is no specific date to send them in by, as they accept them all year long. Right now I have Dreams by Fleetwood Mac ready but I need to have two songs. I am not going to rush it and it is super far fetched anyway. Purely for fun to keep the tangerine dream alive. Although, I have been considering trying to find or start a band again. I have a couple of life hurdles to get through before I give it a go. Part of my problem with 2014 is that I took on way too much and couldn't keep up. I need to try not to do that anymore.

I think that was everything that ya'll may have been wondering. Now, we are all caught up. Hopefully life will calm down soon and the good things will keep coming. I miss having the time to write and when life does allow me to, that will be my first "me time" priority. Writing, creating, making and doing. That would be my personal happy place.

Where Did a Whole Month Go?

Oops. Really? A whole month (just over, actually, but who's counting?) has passed since my last post. This troubles me a bit. Only because writing is one of my favorite things to do now and I obviously do not get enough time to do it. I haven't been slacking off or anything. I'm sure that is what you are all thinking...unless, of course, you know me and that I have five kids and how finding that "me time" can be very tricky. Very tricky, indeed.

A couple posts ago I had a...what should I call it...a "mini meltdown", perhaps? I have since deleted that post for reasons that are my own, although I saved a copy and will re-post it again someday when the time is right. I am not ashamed of my feelings or my words. I own them. I am human. I do, however, need to protect myself sometimes...for now.

The reason I bring up the "meltdown" is because I have put a lot of changes into motion since that day. I realized, after putting my broken self in black and white for the world to see, that I needed to deal with some things in my life. I needed to make changes, make decisions, have conversations and figure out what exactly I want from this new strange life. Fifteen months ago I was a full time working mother of three. Overnight I became a stay at home mother of five. Before the twins I was focused, organized, busy and determined...in a good way. Since the twins were born I have been scatter-brained, indecisive and a little lost. I have also been extremely happy, though. I love being a mom so very much. I've said it before and I will say it again: motherhood is my favorite. Picture me saying it like Will Ferrell's character in Elf when he says, "I just like to smile. Smiling's my favorite."

"I just like to be a mom. Being a mom's my favorite." But at the same time, I felt the real me slowly slipping away. I have had moments where I felt like I might drown. I was giving up so much and taking on way too much, all at the same time. I had to prioritize. That is where I have been for the last month or so. I feel much better. I have refreshed optimism (with a healthy side dish of realistic goals and expectations.)

Image from: http://www.srednja.hr/Novosti/Svijet/Otkriveno-koji-tip-ljudi-ima-najvise-sanse-za-uspjeh-i-srecu

What specifically have I changed? The most important thing I have done since the "meltdown" is to have a heart-to-heart talk with my beloved husband. I will begin by saying that I try very hard to leave my marital issues out of this blog out of deep respect for his privacy. I am the one who chose to put my life in print, not him. I must also clarify that when I say "marital issues", we have very few negative issues. He is an amazing man and my perfect match in every way possible. I love him unconditionally and trust him explicitly and I know, without a doubt, that he feels the same way about me. How could we possibly go wrong with a marriage like that, right?

One thing. Since the twins were born, bless their little hearts, we have probably experienced the hardest thing that we have ever had to deal with as a couple. Five kids is no cake walk. And after a little while, instead of leaning on each other as we should have, we sort of both retreated to our own corners, in our own ways, to lick our wounds like beat down dogs and suffer alone in silence. So silly. We should know better. So, we spoke our minds, we shed our tears and we made some changes that have already begun to work their magic. All is well and we are the stronger for it, both as a couple and as a family. Yeah us!

Where are my priorities? I am only taking on one volunteer project for the school this year. I am the Scholastic Book Fair Chair for my son's middle school. This is something that we can do together; bonding with each other while doing something important at the same time. Win-win.

Instead of quiting The Mommies Network, I took a leave of absence from my volunteer posts. After speaking with the founder of the organization, this seemed like the right choice. After the holidays are over, I will continue as chapter manager for MinneapolisMommies but I have chosen to step down as their Blended Families Forum Moderator. This will allow me to focus on the part that is most important to me, which is building a local community of mothers who can get together, support each other and go out and have a good time every once in a while. If I need these things, there have to be a whole lot of other moms that do to.

I am making an effort to play my guitar more. I am even trying to write a song or two and have started to get callouses on the tips of my left fingers again, which I haven't had since high school. I am putting no pressure on myself and it feels good. Whatever happens, happens. I am not working out, trying to get the perfect body back. I probably won't get to fulfill a long time dream to be in a musical this summer. I am not going to be in a pageant and represent my town. There are so many things that I want(ed) to do, but I am learning to accept the fact that not all of these wishes will turn out to be. I am forcing myself to be much more choosy in my efforts. This will help me not feel let down or broken hearted. I don't want to be the girl that is all talk with no follow through. I am now trying to allow myself to really focus on the most important things. This will take some discipline.

I just celebrated my birthday. I am now 36. I am 100% okay with this. I embrace my aging. Although, a thought did cross my mind this week. I had a moment where I was sad because I realized how old I was and that I had nothing to show for it. No career, no degree. I had not accomplished a single dream that I had for myself from when I was a kid. I am not even remotely close to where I thought I would be. This moment of sadness was brief. Partly because many of those dreams were far fetched and a tiny bit unrealistic for regular people. But mostly, the sadness was brief because I thought to myself, "Ginny, don't be an idiot. Look at your life." I have a lot to show. I have an adoring husband and five of the best kids a mom could ask for. I have a house and two cars, health insurance, savings and investments. I have a huge family full of love and support for each other. I am healthy and alive. I get to be a stay at home mom! I have food in the refrigerator and clothes on my back. Not everyone can say all of these things. I am not saying it to brag or to pat myself on the back. I am saying it for perspective. I am saying it to remind myself that I have no reason to feel bad about what I have or have not done with my life.

I am going to digress for a moment...but when the hell did we become grown-ups? Seriously. Over the last year there has been so much change and loss and pain and happiness. I have lost old friends and acquaintances to cancer, suicide and death by natural or unexplained causes. People in my world have experienced abuse and divorce, marriages, births and miscarriages, custody battles and lawyer bills. New homes have been purchased and old homes have been lost or sold. There have been home improvements, both planned and not so planned. (Don't even get me started on my damn boiler heat issue) Jobs have come and gone. Life is in constant motion all around us and it can knock us on our asses at times by the pure heaviness of it all. I was out with an old girlfriend a few weeks ago and we were in total disbelief about all of the real "grown-up shit" that has unfolded itself before us, and people we know, from all possible angles. One day you are twenty years old and then you blink and suddenly you are an adult and real life just sort of happened all around you. Again, perspective. I really need to complain a lot less.

So, what do I want? I want to continue being a stay at home mom. I want to be more patient. I want to be a better wife and mother. I want to write more. I want to volunteer. And I have decided to go back to school and finish my two year Associates degree that I started back in 2001. I will officially be a full time student, entirely online, in January. This is my list to focus on. These are the things I have decided are most important to me. These are the things that made the cut. This is how I move from sink to swim. Wish me luck.

What the Funk.

"Just because I am awesome doesn't mean that I want to be awesome all of the time." - me

Image from: http://smartwomanonline.com/feature/2008/02/multitasking-run-amok/3/

I have been in a bit of a funk. I have so many things that I need to accomplish but don't have the motivation to do them. I found this piece of art online today and it looks just like I feel...

Image from: http://society6.com/LindseyPuddles/In-a-Funk_Print

And now I feel like a complainer for saying so. Ugh!

A fellow blogger, and old high school classmate, wrote a post recently that I related to almost exactly. The biggest difference is that she works and I don't, but other than that I know what she is feeling with my whole heart. It is titled Balancing Act and here is a link: http://beckyberry217.blogspot.com/2013/07/balancing-act.html

I feel completely alone and surrounded by people at the same time. I feel like I am strong enough to do anything but can't get myself up and moving to start. I feel extreme happiness for everything I have been blessed with in my life and that I have also become lost along the way. Some days I feel like I may have actually reached Super Mom status and then the next day I feel like the biggest raging B-word to have ever walked the planet and then feel sorry for my children because they deserve better than I gave. I feel like a walking contradiction.

I am obviously a little depressed. It has happened before and it will happen again. I'm not a doctor but I know that I do not need medication. I just need time. Pills won't make my kids leave me in peace for a bit while I clean a bathroom. Pills won't make my house in a condition to sell. Pills won't make my papers file themselves. I just need time. Luckily I am ridiculously patient, sometimes to a fault. Someday the picture that represents how I feel will look a little more like this...

Image from: http://antiworldnews.wordpress.com/2012/01/04/1-happiness-habits-for-busy-people/

"Meet Virginia" 

By: Train

She doesn't own a dress
Her hair is always a mess,
You catch her stealin' she won't confess
She's Beautiful.

Smokes a pack a day, but wait,
That's me, but anyway
She doesn't care a thing
About that hair,
She thinks I'm beautiful
Meet Virginia

She never compromises,
Loves babies and surprises,
wears high heels when
she exercises
Ain't it beautiful
Meet Virginia

Well she wants to be the Queen
Then she thinks about her scene
Pulls her hair back as she screams
"I don't really wanna be the Queen"

Daddy wrestles alligators
Mama works on carburetors
Her brother is a fine mediator
For the president
And here she is again on the phone
just like me hates to be alone
we just like to sit at home
and rip on the President
Meet Virginia, Mmmm...

Well she wants to live her life
Then she thinks about her life
Pulls her hair back, as she screams
"I don't really wanna live this life"

She only drinks coffee at midnight
When the moment is not right
Her timing is quite, unusual
You see her confidence is tragic, but her
Intuition magic And the shape of her body?
Unusual

Meet Virgina I can't wait to
Meet Virginia, yeah e yeah hey hey hey

Well she wants to be the queen and
then she thinks about her scene
Well she wants to live her life
then she thinks about her life
Pulls her hair back as she screams
"I don't really wanna be the queen"
I, I don't really wanna be the queen
I, I don't really wanna be the queen
I, I don't really wanna live this

9 Months: A Perfect Storm

Or rather, perfectly stormy. My twin boys are officially 9 months old. I was pregnant with them for almost the whole 9 month gestation. To be exact, 36 1/2 weeks, or better yet, just over 8 1/2 cycles of the big and beautiful moon. An infinite number of things can happen in such an insignificant length of time on this earth. Lives can be completely rearranged, tossed and scattered just like a million sea shells upon the sand. New life can grow and swell in unison inside another living being. Relationships can wane or flourish; they may even experience a combination of the two. Sleep and to do lists can be swept to the side in a tide of new responsibilities and flowing tears of joy and sadness, creeping ever deeper, can consume an unsuspecting soul into their depths. Or, one can learn to swim, even if it is only treading water at times. All that matters is that you can keep your head above water, at least until your tippy toes can touch the bottom or your mind, body and soul become stronger.

The last 9 months have not been a perfect walk along the beach. My husband and I feel like we have accomplished something great together, regardless. We made it through a very difficult time and came out stronger, closer and even more sure of the strength we have as a unit. We made it through. We held each others hands and didn't allow the storm to take us down.

How can I measure the last 9 months? Approximately 255 days, 6,120 hours, 367,200 minutes,  22,032,000 seconds, give or take. I have probably prepared and fed the babies 3,500 bottles, well over 200 cans of formula. I have changed around 5,600 diapers and pull ups and used up 16,500 wipes. I have fixed nearly 300 bumps, bruises and scrapes. I have possibly slept, on average, 5 hours a night, at best. This equals around 1,275 hours, if I am bring generous. I have attended maybe 30 doctor, dentist, physical therapy and optical appointments. I have cleaned the whole house...once? But, have done 250 loads of laundry, 300 piles of dishes and an unlimited number of other household tasks. I have paid over 100 monthly bills. I slept on the couch for at least 3 or 4 months because our house is too small, the babies do not have their own room and my dear hubby has to get up and go to work early in the mornings. I have cried a dozen times...or so. I have raised my voice more times than I care to admit.

On a lighter note...I have given a bazillion kisses and a lifetimes worth of hugs. I have laughed 4,000 times, at least, and smiled thousands more. I have played with my children everyday. I have shown them some new things. I have read hundreds of books and danced around the living room singing along with the songs loudly and proudly, often. I've told many silly jokes and stupid puns. I have tickled and pillow fought with gusto, on occasion. I've saved them from at least 50 spiders. I've given countless bubble baths for hours and hours until their 10 fingers and 10 toes each shriveled up into raisins. I've blown a trillion bubbles and side walk chalked enough to draw a line around the world. I have loved, with my entire being, all day, every day.

In 9 months I have discovered even more about myself. I am very aware that I am as complex as there are drops of water in the ocean. Each day is an adventure, some days better than others. My already wonderful marriage has flourished. Together we are as strong as the tides. The waves crashing against the rocks, slowly carving away, constantly changing the surface, are no match for our love and our strength together. After all of this, I know that we can accomplish anything. 18 months ago we started slowly treading water. We have since, learned to swim.

'Seasons of Love'

By: Jonathan Larson

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes,

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Moments so dear.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights

In cups of coffee

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.

In five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure

A year in the life?

How about love?

How about love?

How about love? Measure in love

Seasons of love. Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes!

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Journeys to plan.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure the life

Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned,

Or in times that he cried.

In bridges he burned,

Or the way that she died.

It's time now to sing out,

Tho' the story never ends

Let's celebrate

Remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love!

Remember the love!

Seasons of love!

Oh you got to got to 

Remember the love! 

You know that love is a gift from up above 

Share love, give love spread love 

Measure measure your life in love.

My So Called Life

Image from: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/04/07/my-so-called-life-to-air-sundance-channel_n_846240.html

I am probably not the only one who broke out the old High School yearbooks lately. As cliche as it sounds, those truly were the "good ol' days." I remember them so very clearly; every feeling, every smell, the great times had and the not so great times conquered. It was an experience. "We had a time." As for Elementary School, I admittedly kind of hated it. Those days were hard, what with bullying, name-calling and the general prepubescent torture from many of the other students aimed at myself and closest friends. We made it through together but it was not easy. Junior High was a little bit better. We felt a little more at home and started to realize that it didn't matter what the other kids thought about us. We gained some confidence together and grew by leaps and bounds and I am not just talking about our physical size. By the time we walked into the front door of the High School on that first day, we were ready to own that s#!t. And we did. Now, as I sit here in my living room, six and a half month old twins in their swings, three year old daughter down for a nap, one son at the Middle School and the other one at the High School, I wonder, how the hell did I get here? Where oh where have the years gone? I sure do not feel thirty five...not even close.

I recently started watching an old show again called My So Called Life starring Claire Danes. (I love her.) It originally aired in August of 1994, just weeks before my junior year began. I remember loving the show and that it only ran for one season, which was disappointing at the time. Everything was represented spot-on in my eyes. I related to Claire's character, Angela Chase, easily. The soundtrack was great, the clothes consisted of flannel shirts, leggings and torn jeans, her red hair dye, the heart-encompassing feeling of a new crush, the old friends vs. new friends drama, personally and mentally evolving rapidly while trying to find out who I was, with and without my parents, in ways they did and did not understand. Keeping fairly harmless secrets from my parents, not because I was doing anything bad, just because I figured they wouldn't understand. Never straight up lying to them but periodically answering in half-truths in order to spare a lecture or detailed conversation that I felt wouldn't accomplish anything. Loving my younger siblings one moment, then finding them annoying and pestersome the next. There were definitely some differences between the character and myself but the parallels were much more significant. The writer had a really good grasp on what it was like to be a teen aged girl in the early 90's. Bravo, Winnie Holzman, wherever you are.

One night, a couple of months ago, I was lazily trolling through the Netflix menu and came across My So Called Life. I found nothing better to watch so I decided to take a stroll down memory lane. The show impacted me in a completely different way this time around. I had to sit back after the first episode and contemplate. I still remembered all of the feelings from my youth, I still understand Angela very well. She feels so real to me. And now, at the exact same time, I also relate to her mother, Patty Chase, played by Bess Armstrong. I didn't give her character a second thought as a teen, but now...what the hell? I was just looking for a little junk food to feed my brain and now all I can think about is how completely ridiculous it seems that I am thirty five years old already, that I have travelled so far ahead into the future that I have five kids and a husband and a mortgage and all the other baskets of goodies that go along with responsibility. An unexpected large dose of reality. I had to watch another episode. And another.

The matriarchal character, Patty, has a moment where she vocalizes that she feels like Angela loves her father more than herself and that she feels bad because she is the parent that always has to be the "bad guy." There is another scene where she is lying awake in bed while starring up at the ceiling, worrying about her kids while politely avoiding sexual advances from her loving husband, too exhausted mentally and physically to give anything back. And there is yet another scene where Patty is asking Angela an arsenal of questions regarding the logistics of a sleepover at a new girlfriends house, not really appreciating the answers or the attitude she receives in return, all the while her younger daughter is jabbering on and on about who knows what, trying to get the mother's attention in the background. What an insanely typical day. What a great, and barely dramatized, representation of what it is like to be a mom. Constant worry, constant noise. Responsibility getting in the way of intimacy and trying to find the balance. Wow.

There are also a few moments where Patty completely overreacts or comes across as quite negative over silly little things, like hair color or a wardrobe disagreement. I hope I do not do this; I try not to. I'm also sure I fail miserably sometimes. Isn't that the struggle, though? Remembering all of those things your parents did that you loved or that you hated, promising yourself you'll do things the same way or differently when you have your own children and then being constantly at war within yourself to remain true, slipping up periodically and then getting back on track. It can be like a battlefield in my brain.

In the show, Patty comes across as if she does not really remember what it is like to be a teenager, unless it just seems that way because she only remembers what it is like to be a specific teenager: prom-queen-valedictorian-cheerleader-girl. Not that there is anything wrong with that girl, but she is just not the "average" girl. I was an average girl. I remember what it was like to be one. If I remember, than maybe my parents did too and I didn't need to be so secretive at times. Maybe I could have told my Mom about my first real kiss the same night that it happened...then again, maybe I would have been grounded for hanging out with a boy she did not know. This was one of those times where I would have told a half-truth. My girlfriends and I were all hanging out after school and walking around the Palmer Lake Trails, as usual, be home by dark, blah blah blah. I just happened to leave out the part about my boyfriend tagging along. Again, not because I was planning on doing anything bad, I just thought they would not understand, say no, or worry for no good reason. I was thirteen years old then and I still feel like that was a normal age to go kiss a boy for the first time. I will never know how my parents would have reacted.

Now, I am the mom and I have the teenager. I know that if one of my sons came home and told me that he had his first kiss, I would not be upset. I would be happy for him. I am 99% sure that my two oldest children understand this of me because we are very open and have had many age appropriate talks over the years. This is one place in my parenting style that I have made an effort to do things a little differently. My parents and I did not talk much about the "sex" stuff. It is possible that I could have brought it up to them myself, but that just wasn't me. I do not want my kids to wonder someday so I have made it a point to raise them knowing that they can. I do not fault my parents at all for my wondering. These talks can be hard and weird and awkward. I turned out just fine without the talks; I have just chosen to do it differently for myself and my children. My own long term experiment that I really hope works out.

In my mind I am still only twenty five years old or so, the teen aged me not yet slumbering. My body is trying to prove my age otherwise with what I am certain to be the early stages of arthritis, not to mention a pretty nice skunk stripe of gray hair. These things do not bother me. I am not ashamed of my age; I know that I have earned it, proudly. If someone asks, I will tell them. I am glad I still remember my youth so well because I feel it makes me a more conscientious mother. I hope I never loose this because I still have a very long way to go when it comes to parenting. Thanks to the television show, I had a few things put into perspective for me and the memories that I had were brought to the front of my mind at a very opportune time. I hope I never loose my connection with the character Angela and I also hope I remain aware of my words and actions enough to choose how similar I am to her mother, Patty. All I can do is try.

Image from: http://startledthewitch.com/2012/05/my-so-called-life/

Talking Heads - Once in a Lifetime

You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack 
You may find yourself in another part of the world 
You may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile 
You may find yourself in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife 
You may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?

Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down 
Letting the days go by, water flowing underground 
Into the blue again after the money's gone 
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground

You may ask yourself, how do I work this? 
You may ask yourself, where is that large automobile? 
You may tell yourself, this is not my beautiful house 
You may tell yourself, this is not my beautiful wife

Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down 
Letting the days go by, water flowing underground 
Into the blue again, after the money's gone 
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground 
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was, same as it ever was, same as it ever was  

Water dissolving and water removing 
There is water at the bottom of the ocean 
Remove the water, carry the water 
Remove the water from the bottom of the ocean

Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down 
Letting the days go by, water flowing underground 
Into the blue again, after the money's gone 
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground 
Into the blue again, into silent water 
Under the rocks and stones, there is water underground 
Letting the days go by, into silent water 
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground

You may ask yourself, what is that beautiful house? 
You may ask yourself, where does that highway lead to? 
You may ask yourself, am I right, am I wrong? 
You may say to yourself, my god, what have I done?

Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down 
Letting the days go by, water flowing underground 
Into the blue again, after the money's gone 
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground 
Into the blue again, into silent water 
Under the rocks and stones, there is water underground 
Letting the days go by, into silent water 
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground 
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was, same as it ever was, same as it ever was 

Time isn't holding us, time isn't after us 
Time isn't holding us, time doesn't hold you back 
Time isn't holding us, time isn't after us 
Time isn't holding us... 
Letting the days go by, letting the days go by, letting the days go by, once in a lifetime 

Desperations of a Wounded Mother

Image from: http://lovejays.com/2013/10/08/struggling-with-depression/

I have been compelled to write this post. I will be as respectful as possible and am not looking to be a martyr. I just have feelings, thoughts and insights that I would like to share, based on a recent local news event. Specifically, an old high school class mate that has allegedly committed murder-suicide on herself and two young children, ages six and seven. The medical examiners are still wrapping things up, so there is still the tiniest bit of hope that the toxicology reports could refute these preliminary findings, but I will admit, my hopes are not high. This is quite tragic and has sent my mind spinning. I am saddened.

Let me begin by admitting I was not close with Stephanie Miskowiec Shields, or as I knew her, Steph. We were only acquaintances in high school and graduated together in the Class of '96. Our graduating class was nearly 600 and knowing everyone was rather impossible. I do remember her though, but have not seen her since. What I do remember is that she was a sweet girl, kind of quiet and petite. She had beautiful eyes that twinkled when she smiled and when she wore her hair up and pulled back from her face she was quite beautiful. She was friendly to me, although we just had the kind of relationship where you say "Hi, how are you?" in the hall at passing time and move on with your day. We had very few classes together, as our interests were very different: she loved Cross-Country anything and my world revolved around music and theatre. At 35 years old, looking back, this whole situation blows my mind. How could life have become so sad for Steph that this was the only way she felt she could cope? I am not expecting to ever be able to answer this question definitively.

There have been many murder-suicides at the hand of the mother over the last many years; Lashanda Armstrong, Susan Smith, Andrea Yates, Melanie Reyes and Mayra Perez, just to name a few. Most of us can not fathom what could possibly bring a mother to the edge so severely. In my mind I say that there is no way in the spectrum of the world that anything would ever make me take the lives of my children, no matter what. Now that Steph is gone and I can sort of say I knew someone who did this horrific thing, is it really fair of me to conclude my thoughts so absolute? Now, I can not bring myself to judge Steph as harshly as I have knee-jerk judged the other mothers in history who have done the same terrible thing. My mind had just been opened, not necessarily for the better.

In the last 35 years I have had my fair share of trials and tribulations. I have had my private desperate moments where I contemplated if it would just be better for everyone involved and easier on myself to give up, doubting my abilities, strengths and will, both before I had children and after. I have rarely spoken of these moments to anyone before because it is embarrassing and a little shameful when I admit weakness, but after watching the tornado of comments flying around on facebook, and the like, I feel strong enough to admit it, this is my way of respecting the memory of Stephanie. I am sure many of you out there have had a mental slip up or two and considered the possibilities. All alone, crying for hours, mind spinning out of control, maybe sitting curled up on the bathroom floor, afraid to move, just in case. Then again, maybe not. I will say that the thought of taking my childrens' lives has truly never once crossed my mind. Never. They are my world, my reason to live and walk upon this Earth. I believe I was put here for them, I was made to be their mother.

That being said, I know we are all made differently. I was able to push through my moments of despair. I have a very strong and supportive family. If anything were to ever happen to me, either self inflicted or not, my children would be taken care of. I also know that there are many factors to consider, when you are thinking about the possibility of not being around for your children anymore: who could afford to raise them properly, who would be willing to bear that burden for me, who would be able to show them unconditional love forever, would the children be able to mentally handle me not being here anymore and/or get the counseling and support they would desperately need to move on and grow into healthy and fulfilled individuals, the list of questions goes on and on. My only conclusion is that Steph possibly had no answers for these questions and made a sad decision. She must have truly felt, in that specific moment of turmoil, that she had absolutely no other choice. Right or wrong, feelings are real and can be poisonous and painful and sometimes, unbearable.

I can sit here and say that I would never ever do the same thing until I am blue in the face and I am fairly certain that this is truthful, but I also know that I never exactly walked a day in her shoes, I may have never felt as down and out as she must have felt. I have a different family and different friends. Our mental genetics are not the same. I can say from experience that I know full well what it is like to keep deep dark secrets. Last night while I was sad and thinking of Steph I peeked at her facebook profile. The pictures are numerous and they all appear so cheerful. Many photos of her and her two gorgeous children, all smiles on bright sunny days, doing family things together out on the boat and in a marathon of some sort. The appearance of fun and as if nothing could possibly be wrong. I have been there. I have presented myself as a happy and content person to the world in my past in order to hide what was truly going on at home and in my life, behind closed doors. I felt I was strong enough to get past it, I was woman enough to remain stoic and keep getting up everyday for my childrens' sake, I would stay in my situation forever just for their happiness. I did not last forever and ten years ago I had to make some serious life changes. This was by no means easy and I had one of my dark periods where I spent most nights after the children were asleep, sobbing uncontrollably, contemplating solutions...some darker than others. Somehow, someway, I made it through; Stephanie, and many many others did/do not.

I am sorry. Sorry for Steph and all the other mothers who caved in to their darkness, sorry for the families who will never know why, sorry for the public and all of their speculations, sorry for the husbands, estranged or not, this would/will be terribly difficult to get past. But, mostly, today, I am sorry for those two sweet ginger babies that have been taken so abruptly from their community, with no say whatsoever. My heart bleeds for them. The mothers probably couldn't think ahead to the mess they would leave, their brains being so distraught and overflowing with sadness. As mothers, they wouldn't have wanted for their children to be remembered this way. An irreversible mistake. I feel extreme empathy and my heart hurts. I will hug my children a little bit harder this evening. Hug yours for me, too.