Turning 39 (ish)

Today is the day that I will attempt to explain something that absolutely NO ONE understands about me. I don't know why, I just feel the need.


I suppose there comes a time in every one's life when they wake up one day and realize how old they are getting. This is probably not so bad for some people.
For me, it SUCKED. And still does.
Since the day I realized what would happen this year, I have been plagued by regrets, questions and fears.
Whenever my birthday was brought up, I would get tears in my eyes and practically beg people to just ignore it this year. OK, maybe beg isn't the right word, threaten is probably more like it. Let's move on.
Most people did honor my request, and I appreciate that. Some didn't, and someday I'll get over that. Yup...I said someday. I was able to ignore my birthday this year for the most part, just pretend it was another day. It was the way I chose to deal with it, right or wrong. Saying happy birthday to me after I asked for it to be ignored was like a knife in my heart, and just one more item to add to my list of things I didn't accomplish by the time I turned....this age.
And for god's sake...don't anyone get all insulted and think I am calling them old because they are 40 or older...it has nothing to do with you...It's an age that I am stuck on for some reason.

So, for a month or so before my birthday, asking for it to be ignored was hell. Why? Because I heard things like "that's stupid" and "get over it" and "let it go" and my personal favorite "it's gonna happen whether you like it or not so suck it up and deal with it" HELLO?!? Is this how you deal with people who are obviously very upset by something, or is it just ME? OK, so maybe the people who said these things to me didn't mean to hurt, they just didn't understand.

So, here is every one's chance to understand. Remember, understanding is different from agreeing, keep that in mind.

As I said, I realized how old I would be this year and started asking myself what I had accomplished so far in my life. What had I done?
The answer to both of these questions in my mind was...FAIL.
At pretty much everything.
Marriage - fail..twice for god's sake. The choices I made were BAD!!!
Job - I do have a good one, but is it a career? no...fail
Credit - bad, again a result of bad choices - fail
Health - bad fail
Weight loss - i was doing very well at that one the last time i tried, but some guy told me i was a beautiful woman, ugh, i was flattered at first then i remembered the bad choices i make in men, didn't trust myself and went home and ate a cheesecake. It was all downhill from there. fail
Home - i have a great apartment, but is it mine? No, it's someone else's home. fail
Respect - at work, yes. Career or not, I am good at what I do. People respect that. Otherwise? It's a question I honestly don't know the answer to.
Next to my mother and my sisters, I feel like...nothing. Am I as good, giving and loving as them?
Oh god no. They definitely have me beat on that one. I realize this doesn't necessarily make me a bad person. Just different. Still, I feel that I have failed at some of the more important things in life. I have tried, in my own way I guess, to get closer to my sisters recently, but I'm pretty sure that all went to hell last week. Duck tape on my mouth is probably the answer to that problem.
When I was younger, I wanted to be just like my father when I grew up. In my eyes he was successful, strong, responsible. He was, and still is, my role model. He, and my mother, made a life for us. It wasn't always perfect, but it was good. He and my mother have accomplished so much. Theirs is an achievement I don't think I can accomplish.
There is one thing I have not failed on. I have raised a beautiful, caring, smart, funny and strong daughter who will make her way in this world because of the way I have raised her. I didn't always do it right, and I made more than my share of mistakes, but she has grown up beautifully. I will never stop worrying about her, and wondering if I have taught her everything she needs to know, but will listen to my own mother when she tells me she will be fine.

Heather has been my reason for living, working and being for the last 18 years. She has been my purpose. She is growing up and I have to figure out a way to let go.

That scares the shit out of me.

What will my purpose be now? I look back at my bad choices, mistakes and failures and then I look forward. To what? I see a lonely life, living alone, eating alone, sleeping alone. Being alone. Well, except for the 20 cats I'll sneak into my apartment. I know I still have a few years, she needs to finish school first before she goes and starts her own life. But as I have realized, those years will go by in a minute. I know, you will all still be there for me, but will I see you every day? Will you talk my ear off when I walk in the door after work? Will I hear you belting out a song from the other room at any given moment? No. And that's as it should be. We all grow up and move on.

And I suppose I will too, I just don't know where I will go. But one thing is for sure...I'm bringing the damn cheesecake with me.

Someone recently asked me if I get tired of sleeping alone every night.
At first I thought, yeah...sometimes.

But then I thought some more.
So here's my answer to that person.

Yes, I sleep alone every night, but I also don't have to worry about someone else's....

Farting
Snoring
Bed hogging
Blanket hogging
Cold feet

and the drool on my pillow is my own.


Yeah...I'm good.

Seriously...you gotta love me.

what i learned today

I can't do everything.

Damn it.

Sometimes, just saying yes is enough...

Sometimes, giving your kid permission to do something they really, really want to do is enough. Even if putting them on a plane by themselves scares you to death, makes you want to throw up and breaks your heart all at the same time.

It was all worth it for her to have this experience.

Sisters

So, I was watching Dr. Phil the other day (shut up) and it was about this new show The Locator. There were 5 sisters on there who had not seen each other for 20 years, and this guy, The Locator, found them all. And reunited them.
Now, I can joke all I want and say I would have loved to be an only child. I mean, it was rough growing up with 3 sisters. There was "the oldest", "the perfect one" and the "smart one", otherwise known as Stephanie, Kim and Robin. I was in there somewhere, not sure of my "title", not sure I want to know. I do know I was mostly difficult, moody, bitchy and probably kinda mean at times. I always felt "apart" from these girls, like I had been beamed down from outer space into this family. I spent countless hours wondering why I wasn't, or couldn't be, more like them. Jealous as hell of all three of you for whatever it was that you had that I didn't.

Whatever...I grew up (sort of) and got over it.

So after watching these 5 sisters that had all grown up without each other, I started thinking about these girls I had grown up with and wondered...could I have made it through the last 20 years without them??

Nope.

Oh, we're all different, have our own views, raise our kids differently, have our own ways to live our lives. But that's what makes it so perfect. I can get three different answers to a question and pick the one I like best. Whatever my problem is at the time I can call any one of them and know they've either been thru something like it or know someone who has and can talk me thru it.

I have learned how lucky I am to have all three of them. They have been with me thru child raising, marriage, divorce, death and the dreaded teenage years. I know that I can call any one of them for help if I need it. (Not that I would, HELLO! I still have an aversion to that) I know that if I ever needed a shoulder to cry on, (oh please. like I would. I haven't cried in YEARS) any one of them would be there. If I had a heart, instead of an empty chest cavity, and it got broken, they would do their best to cheer me up. I know that no matter what choices I make, these women will stand behind me. They WILL tell me what they think of those choices, and I wouldn't have it any other way, but they will stick with me. We annoy each other sometimes, we don't always agree. But we also laugh together, cry together and live together. What more could I ask for? (Maybe a Cowboy, but that's a different story)

The choices I make define how I live my life. But what defines me? The people I love. How lucky am I to have had these 3 women, all amazing in their own way, help to define me? I have something a lot of people don't...and I'll never forget that again.

Thank you, my sisters, for everything you do, for everything you are, and everything I will be because of you. I love you.

2 Choices

The following story was sent to me by a friend. It made me think. Am I this kind of person? Would I have made the same choice as these boys did? I don't know. That bothers me. I feel that most of the people I know would have. I know without a shadow of a doubt that Heather would have done what these boys did. This story just added to a lot of things I have been thinking about myself and struggling with lately. I have been asked by a few people why I haven't been posting much and the answer to one of them was this....

i dont update as much as i thougt i would
because half the shit i actually want to put on there right now would piss off at least one person per post.
not sure if the headache is worth it at this point.
i'm depressed enough all ready.

Now, the whole point of this blog when I started was to give you all an example of the extremely educated, intuitive, delightfully funny and deeply thought provoking crap that roams thru my head from time to time. (heh heh) Not to whine so much that you all want to smack me and tell me to get over it. So while I know you are all waiting breathlessly, you'll have to keep waiting until the voices in my head quit sniveling and let me get something intelligent out.

So read the following story, maybe it will make you think. But like I said, most of you probably won't have to. And while you may want to comment and tell me whether or not you think I am this kind of person, please don't. I do value all of your opinions, but in this situation, I think what matters more than your opinion of me, is my opinion of me. I feel it's something I have to figure out on my own.

Two Choices What would you do?....you make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: 'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?' The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.' Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps. I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.' Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!' Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!' Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball.. The smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay' Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!' As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!' Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team 'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

theres no lesson here.
this song just makes me laugh.
or maybe the lesson is that some things haunt you forever...even if you don't care.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EmqIsnIp5uc