tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68410100219205216732024-03-13T09:38:55.419-07:00Where did THAT come from?hey lady, you have a ship on yer headRosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-78845437929489706912009-11-15T00:14:00.000-08:002009-11-15T00:20:16.387-08:00A Prosthetic Marriage?<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">S</span></span></b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">urely everyone knows what a prosthesis is. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Basically - </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">an artificial substitute for </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">the real thing.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-cyjPc7oI/AAAAAAAAABs/L5ikeGhwtfA/s1600-h/isella_robot_arm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-cyjPc7oI/AAAAAAAAABs/L5ikeGhwtfA/s200/isella_robot_arm.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">An arm.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-c8YsuqdI/AAAAAAAAAB0/mzgZB2fVc_4/s1600-h/i1632w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-c8YsuqdI/AAAAAAAAAB0/mzgZB2fVc_4/s200/i1632w.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A leg.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-dBP7KKmI/AAAAAAAAAB8/VJ2Usc78RVI/s1600-h/artificial-heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-dBP7KKmI/AAAAAAAAAB8/VJ2Usc78RVI/s200/artificial-heart.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A heart.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Why not have a prosthetic marriage?</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It seems that's the consensus that my partner and I have come to for the time being. We've had a meeting of the minds, I guess you could say. On a few levels. One of which, is to drop the divorce for now.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">When I picked up the kids a few nights ago, he told me he'd instructed his attorney to "suspend" everything. He said it was not what he wanted. I was stunned. This was completely unexpected. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A wave of release swept over me. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Of course, I'll reciprocate. At least it will give me a chance to rest a little (hopefully) and lessen the stress. That's never a bad thing.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Finally. A chance for peace.</span></b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">With the direction things were going in, this is a giant relief. To my mind, my heart, my soul.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Things had crescendoed into a such a fervor of defensive, cutting, reactionary behavior and it was steadily heading out of anyone's control. It never had to be like that and he, thankfully, had finally seen that for himself. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It's a burden lifted from the kids. Mostly our oldest son. He's old enough to know what divorce is and has had such a hard time with all of it. I've struggled daily to know just the right words to say and manner in which to say them to make his world a little brighter and simply less foreboding altogether. With this change in direction, he's been smiling a bit more and fighting me a little less.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>That does my heart good.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We're going to stay married, though continue to live apart.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">He is going to continue to seek the mental health treatment that he now admits, at least to me, he needs and wants. That's huge. His mental and emotional health has always been more important to me, throughout all of this, than my own feelings, opinions or even dignity. Our children need their Daddy. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At this point, he doesn't seem too open to addressing things of a more personal nature. There hasn't been much talk of the relationship between the two of us. Save for the fact that I've been told there's "lots of things you're gonna have to change before I'm ready to be with you". </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>Yeah. I know. Some nerve.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">That actually hurt a whole lot. I've worked for the past two years to change a ton of things about myself that neither he nor I liked. I'm far from perfect and likely will never be. But it's not necessary, at this juncture, to have my </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">(mostly ordinary) faults shoved in my face and smushed in. Especially after all the things I've been through with him. After working for five years to forgive what most would deem unforgivable. After desperately pulling myself out of a very deep, debilitating depression, as a result of his unfaithfulness. After putting up with feeling insecure and unsafe strictly because of his unstable, erratic, unpredictable beliefs and behaviors.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Even considering all of that, it's no secret that I love my husband. I do. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have always been willing to do whatever it takes for us to make it and keep our family together. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">He's recently shared some things with me that put his sexual indiscretions in a whole different light for me. He's admitted to seeking help for that area of his life, as well. That DOES make a difference to me, because it's never happened before. Seeing evidence of the willingness to face things and work toward change is enough for me to, at the least, have some faith that now there is opportunity for things to end up much differently than how they've been and were turning out to be.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>Who knows what happens now.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe we'll work everything out. Maybe we'll end up divorcing eventually. I have no idea.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">What I do know is that what we're left with is, at best, unconventional. A substitution.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Most definitely a prosthetic, since at the moment the real thing is for sure missing.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I know - it's artificial. Unreal.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But at least it's not <i>this</i> kind of artificial...</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-GE8vgkCI/AAAAAAAAABk/pyEu_69ri0M/s1600-h/42-20733683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-GE8vgkCI/AAAAAAAAABk/pyEu_69ri0M/s320/42-20733683.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I already tried that. </span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It didn't work.</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">No amount of on-time dinners, gleaming household, or cute, flirty frocks below my perfectly coiffed hair and made-up face plastered with the sweetest smile </span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I could muster did the trick.</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe if I'd had this nifty helper I'd have been a </span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">bit more successful...</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-E52j1CdI/AAAAAAAAABc/X6_W_Tl2P_o/s1600-h/P1121_4-a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/Sv-E52j1CdI/AAAAAAAAABc/X6_W_Tl2P_o/s320/P1121_4-a.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Something tells me, though, that even "The Good Wife Guide" would have fallen short when doling out advice and pointers for my marriage, in particular.</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">I'm now faced with making the best of a bad situation.</span></b></span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And that's just what I intend to do.</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I will support him in his endeavors to achieve mental and emotional health. I will do whatever is in my power to help him through that journey. I love him and want the absolute best for him. Even if that doesn't include me. I will walk wherever the path leads. Listen to my heart. Continue to do my best to shield my children from seeing the complete brokenness of their father and the pain his actions have created in both our lives.</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It is, no doubt, a very long row to hoe. My hope, right now, is that I'm able to keep my sanity and heart intact as I go along.</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Wish me luck.</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">*Thanks to Google Images for all the pics</span></span><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-20418767110969672009-11-04T07:11:00.000-08:002009-11-04T07:22:23.374-08:00Big FAT scaredy CAT<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">T</span></b></span>hat's me.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/SvGbuFIVyOI/AAAAAAAAABU/PMvM8TubKuM/s1600-h/scaredy-cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/SvGbuFIVyOI/AAAAAAAAABU/PMvM8TubKuM/s320/scaredy-cat.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Although, this scaredy cat is a little on the skinny side)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I've known it for years, but haven't <i>always</i> been this way. I used to think of myself as pretty tough. After all, I'd lived on my own for quite a number of years. In the big city of Atlanta, along the bay shores in Alabama, and even down at the beach for a short time. I was never such a ninny then, as I am now.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But after living in a house with a man for all these years, it appears that I've become a complete sissy. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A wuss. A total wimp.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>I've turned into a </b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>damsel in distress.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Hear a bump in the night?</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">. . . . . . </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">You'll find me buried under the covers - heart pounding, listening intently for footsteps that never come. (Thank God!)</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A sudden bang, thump, crash on the rooftop?</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I shake and panic thinking 'What could that be?!'</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">. . . . . . </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Until I remember we have two peacocks that sometimes stay up way past their bedtime; abandoning their usual roost high up in the leafy oaks for hunting whatever tiny nocturnal creatures that may be scampering around.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Whew! That was a close one.</span></b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Oh, no. The dogs are barking again. Fiercely. Angrily. What could it be?! A prowler? A peeping-tom? Or worse - someone lying in wait for all to be still and quiet inside so they can break in, take all our goodies, give me a heart attack and abscond into the dark, anonymous night? </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I pace the floors and look out the windows until the dogs are calm and quiet again. Then, sometimes, I go out onto the porch and have a talk with Beau and Hoss (our yellow labradors) about keeping quiet unless it's a TRUE emergency. I explain to them just how much their 'angry bark' scares Mamma and that I do not appreciate it one bit. They listen attentively but, just like children, it's in one ear and out the other. They're back at it the next night.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>I lovingly refer to them as </b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>my 'alarm system'.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I can't even take a shower at night. I have to do it in the morning once there's light outside. How pitiful is that? I'm a grown woman! Thirty-six years old! This is ridiculous.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Crazy thoughts go through my head that keep me from feeling safe to bathe in the night. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thoughts such as:</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">'What if I'm in the shower and someone breaks in? I won't be able to hear anything because of the water running. The kids are asleep. They could take the kids! Or hurt them! And I won't hear a thing. Ohhh - I'll just shower in the morning.'</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>I know why I'm thinking this way - but it's no comfort.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">After living with a man around for many years, it's clear now that I'd become dependent on the fact that he would 'take care of things', as far as safety in the night goes.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Truth be told, there are many, many things he did that did NOT contribute to me feeling safe here. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Also - I can't count how many times I was scared by something in the night and would try to wake him up to check things out...only to have to nearly beat the fire out of him to get him alert. And then listen to him berate me when it was all for nothing. It did not make for very sweet dreams.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Nonetheless, I felt safe because he was a HE. Even though he didn't like it, he <i>would</i> get up and check things out when I needed him to. If for no other reason than so I didn't have to. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">That <i>was</i> comforting, of course.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Plus - he knew how to use the gun. I was always afraid of it. If I was faced with an intruder in the house, I'd be more likely to shoot myself in the foot than hit the target. So, there was that, too.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Me + gun = certain injury or death </span></b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">for anyone but the bad guy.</span></b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Now I'm suddenly the one solely responsible for not only the feeding, clothing, education and general well-being of three little people and myself, but for our SAFETY, as well. At night. When I'm already scared myself. This is not fair. Or fun.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Hopefully, the longer I'm on my own with the kids, this feeling of insecurity after the sun goes down will fade. I want to be strong and sure for both my kids and myself. I want the old me to return. The one who never gave it a second thought to hop in the tub before bed. The one who wasn't afraid by a knock on the door at 8 pm. The one who was confident in her ability to handle the unexpected.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>So, here's to showers after dark!</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">They're highly under-rated. I do recommend them. Maybe by the time I remarry </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">(like 40 years from now)</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I'll be past all of this and no longer </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">go to bed stinky! My future husband will thank me profusely, I'm sure.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Happy bathing in the dark!</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-40221501481163109462009-11-02T12:25:00.000-08:002009-11-02T12:25:13.061-08:00What have I NOT been up to?<center> <a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/"> <img src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/OUAB/NotMeMondayButtonV6copy.jpg" /> </a></center><center><br />
</center><center><br />
</center><center><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">W</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">ell, let's see....</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It is NOT me who's been eating as if she were pregnant with triplets for the past couple of days.</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It was NOT me who stayed in their pajamas for nearly 36 hours straight.</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I also did NOT watch last week's episode of Cougar Town online and secretly enjoy it.</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I wouldn't be the one who stayed up for hours playing stupid Facebook games all night.</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Nope. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Not me</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">!</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I did NOT stand in my kitchen while listening to really bad club-like music on a Kid's Bop cd and do the 'silly booty dance' for my kids to roll on the floor laughing at. Nope. Definitely NOT me!</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The following sentences have NOT been said by me in the past week:</span></b></span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"In this house, we put dirty toilet paper in the toilet and not on the floor by the trash can!!"</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Please don't put your hand in there."</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Didn't I just tell you to put your clothes back on?"</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Our septic tank WORKS! Flush the toilet! I don't want to pee on your poo!"</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Yes, honey - it's perfectly normal to have green tinted poo sometimes. Bright purple? Not so much."</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">(yes - there's a potty theme going on here. pretty standard for my bunch.)</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It was so NOT me who poured my heart out to the sweet cashier girl at the gas station just down the road (who sees me on a regular basis and knows my family) when she asked me how things were going with my husband and the divorce. I did NOT gush all sorts of details as she stood there looking at me like I was a sad little puppy in need of some TLC. And I for sure did NOT proceed to get in my car and cry my eyes out on the way home and continue to cry for the next three hours. Nope. That would NEVER be something I would do.</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'm not sure who the girl is that did and said all of those ridiculously sad things. Whoever she is, I definitely don't envy her, and neither should you.</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Here's to Monday's! Dont'cha love 'em?</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"> **If you enjoyed my "Not Me! Monday!" post, why not join the fun?</span></span></span></span></center><center><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> This blog carnival was created by </span></span><a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>MckMama</b></span></a><span style="font-size: medium;">. You can head over to </span><a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>her blog</b></span></a><span style="font-size: medium;"> to read what she and everyone else have NOT been doing this week.</span><br />
</span></span></center>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-85878630521208545222009-11-01T15:21:00.000-08:002009-11-01T15:21:59.078-08:00I miss him. Oy-vey...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;">T</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">her</span></span></span></b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">e.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: line-through;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">said</span></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> typed it out loud.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Y'all must think I'm nuts. But it's true.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I've been sobbing, moping and weeping for the last 48 hours. The loneliness is so immense right now. I'm helpless to stop the tears and nothing I try is filling the void. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I keep asking myself (as some of you may be wondering, too) just how it is I can miss someone who has hurt me deeper than I knew was possible. You would think I'd be feeling things like anger, frustration, confusion and maybe a little indignation. Instead - there's just incredible sadness, hurt and abandonment.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I first learned about Crazy Kinky Boy's infidelities over 7 years ago. Yes, you read that correctly. A long time ago, I know. Someday I'll tell you the whole story of how I found out. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">That being said, I got over the anger, etc. about 5 years ago. I had decided to stay in my marriage and help him with figuring out his sexuality and dealing with the issues that had arisen as a result of him cheating on me and hiding his "problem". I believed him when he told me that he was NOT homosexual and did NOT want that for his life. That he loved me, the kids and wanted to keep our family together and be the man that I deserved. I still loved him. Still do. </span> </span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">This guy may have completely ripped apart a family because he wanted to have his cake and eat it, too and didn't know how to accomplish that honestly. But that doesn't mean he's totally evil. He's human - just like you and me. I seriously doubt that he was able to fully enjoy any of his romps or indiscretions because he does, after all, have a conscience. Whether or not he ever listened to that conscience is up for debate. I'm betting he didn't, or at the least fought against it, and that's what led to all the crazy.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">As hurt as I am, I choose to remember the good. </span></span></b></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span></b></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It's hard to forget all the sweet stuff. There </span></span><b><i><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">was </span></span></i></b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">sweet stuff between the two of us.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Lots of it. That's what I miss the most. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Such as.....</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">No one has ever made me laugh the way he did. I'm talking guttural, chest heaving, unstoppable, screaming, crying laughter. The kind you heave a big sigh after and have to stifle yet another round from bubbling up. The type of laughter you always feel better from afterwards. So. Good.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">He liked to spoon. Yep. He loved it. I would have to fend him off sometimes just to have a little space now and then. Sad, 'huh? But he really liked doing that. And not just after sex. Anytime. How many women have husbands that actually like spooning? </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">He once told me that whenever he saw my war-torn, scarred up, stretched out belly that it made him happy. Said it took him back to the delivery room watching each of his kids being born. He told me every time he looked at a stretch mark on me he was reminded of the gifts I had given him. Whoa. Way too sweet.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>See - he's not so much an evil bastard, after all.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b></b></span>So, when I start thinking on all the good there was (and there's more than what I've mentioned here) </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I get really, really sad. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I start recalling all of the good times and the bad ones just melt away. Then I begin missing other things - like hugs and kisses. Human touch, in general. Someone running me a warm bubble bath because they know I've had a rough day. Another adult in the house to share a joke with. Not being the only parent around for the kids to request things of. Eating dinner with someone who can appreciate something other than </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">mac 'n cheese or PB & J. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Those may seem like trivial things. They are. But isn't it the trivial, day-to-day things that work together to make our lives what they are as a whole? At least to some extent. Do you find that, more often than not, it's the small stuff that can sometimes be so big and important? Or, as in my case, so missed when it's not there.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">I have to refuse to focus on the hurt.</span></b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I think it's important for me to remember the good things about Crazy Kinky Boy and our decade-long marriage. I will not allow myself to chalk it all up to being one giant farce. It wasn't. There were good things and good feelings and good intentions all wrapped up and hidden underneath the bad stuff. In the past, I had to dig to find it. In the present, it's right there staring me in the face unavoidably. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I won't let myself turn away from it or trade it for all the pain in the end. I'll embrace it and recall it and draw on it from time to time. Because inside all of that is the representation of who I saw when I fell in love. That is the real father of my children. That is who I want to be my friend for the rest of my life. Not the ugly, tormented, desperate, deceitful shell of a man that he let himself become.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I miss him. I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: line-through;">said</span> typed it out loud again. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It's true.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">God help me.</span></span><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-36493677570508000292009-10-30T16:49:00.000-07:002009-10-30T18:12:20.629-07:00I cannot believe my eyes....<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>L</b></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">ookie what I came across on Etsy today...</span></span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/SuuOteB9raI/AAAAAAAAAAk/oS2TAY9Uy14/s1600-h/Lady+with+a+ship+on+her+head+hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GjlJZA6_IQ0/SuuOteB9raI/AAAAAAAAAAk/oS2TAY9Uy14/s400/Lady+with+a+ship+on+her+head+hat.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">Visit <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5620524"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Chatham Girl's</b></span></a><span style="color: purple;"><b> </b></span>Etsy shop to view more of her stunning, creative work.<br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Ain't that a hoot?!</span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I love the expression on her face.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">That look is how I've been feeling for weeks now...</span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">part snarl, part disgust, part stunned.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe a little bit of "I dare you to mess with me 'cause I've had my fill" mixed in there, too.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">How very serendipitous, it being Halloween and all. Had I made plans to attend a fabulous costume bash this weekend in celebration of the holiday, this would be the most fitting costume for me, I do believe. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">And I just love that model's hair color. I'd do it in a second if I could afford it. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">So very bold and strong. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Just what I'm </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">trying</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> to be every day. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">But instead of sporting the look of my blog's lady mascot up there at a fun-filled party full of adults who are being allowed a moment to dress up and act like children (that's always a blast) I'll be at home on my own with just me to entertain myself. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I will survive.</span></b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Name that music artist )</span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </b></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I have plenty to keep me busy and occupy my time. If I don't get distracted by my overwrought mind. And I have a slew of music at the ready for my </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'm-just-fine-all-by-myself soundtrack to keep me company for the next 5 days. Music can keep you going sometimes. I'm hoping it does that for me </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">this weekend.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">However - </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">There's nothing that says I can't show up in court next month with fire engine red hair and freak 'em all out. Nothing except either the lack of an influx of cash or a sale on hair color at the store. And not finding a friend to help me do it so I don't end up looking like a strawberry. I'd love to see the look on the faces of Crazy Kinky Boy and the Walking Hypocritical Contradictions (in-laws). </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'm seriously considering it.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Hope everyone has a tremendously awesome </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Halloween / Fall Festival time this weekend! </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Stay safe. Keep on the sidewalk.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">And don't take candy from strangers!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Unless some strange woman with a ship on 'er head walks up to you and gives you a fistful. She's fine. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Trust me.</span></span><br />
</div></span></span><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-89051477064697067492009-10-30T01:29:00.000-07:002009-10-30T01:29:36.698-07:00Counting Sheep<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>S</b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">leep is steadily eluding me. For too many nights this week, I've laid in bed actually trying to count sheep. It doesn't work. Could even get ugly.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I don't recommend it.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Sure, they're cute fluffy things. I can easily imagine nuzzling into their cushy fur and drifting off peacefully. I also imagined them bouncing over the fence, rather than jumping. Their landings were soft... nearly silent. Still didn't work.</span></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Don't let their cuteness fool you.</span></b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">As I lie there counting and counting, praying for sleep, they started bleating at me. Loudly. It reminded me of my children as dinnertime nears.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Only these characters had an agenda with each </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Baaaa-aaaaa!!!" they uttered.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">To remind me of all the things I've left undone that day. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Of a tidbit of curious info someone had shared with me in a phone conversation that I couldn't seem to let go of. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The fact that I have five bajillion things to get done for <a href="http://bayoukitchen.etsy.com/">Bayou Kitchen</a> before I'm officially up and running and even have the potential for making any money. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Oh, let's not forget about the divorce, either. Last, but certainly not least.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>They didn't stop there.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">These formerly adorable imaginary creatures were turning evil on me. It was brought to my attention that, even though I seem to have lost 19 pounds over the last two months, without giving it the least bit of effort, much less thought, I still have many, many more pounds to go. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">That was the last straw for me. I went straight to the freezer (at 2 am) and dug out my emergency pint of </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Ben & Jerry's Karamel Sutra that has been lying in wait for much too long. My emotional EMT Rescue Squad in a cardboard carton. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>My vital statistics are back in the normal range now.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The floors can be mopped tomorrow. I'll get to the laundry this weekend. Our classroom can wait a few more days to be cleaned up. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'll forget about what my friend said on the phone that got the gears in my head turning. It will only take energy away from what I truly need to be focused on right now.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Speaking of which - the kids will be in Utopia for the next 6 days, so I'll have plenty of time to devote to <a href="http://homeonthebayou.wordpress.com/">Bayou Kitchen</a> and everything it direly needs at the moment. Plus, I'll actually get to sew and have some fun!</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">As for the divorce - pfffttt. I think I'll just live to die another day with that one.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>I've got to pick my battles 'lest </b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>I'm the next to go crazy.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">And, of course, I'm finally sleepy. Now that I have to be up in a little more than 3 hours. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Thanks a lot, stupid sheep! I'll never be caught buying one of <i>your</i> mattresses. Nope. Can't fool me with your cuteness.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Hope everyone else's dreams are sooner and sweeter than mine have been lately.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">P.S. In case you're wondering, I did not completely sabotage my recent bit of weight loss by eating the <i>entire</i> pint of ice cream. I wanted to. Bad. But I only ate about 1/4 of it and stuffed it back into the recesses in the freezer from which it came. However, if this happens to me yet again tomorrow night - I'm making no promises!</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-21817444181112316492009-10-26T10:22:00.000-07:002009-10-26T10:22:55.352-07:00Money is the root of all evil that makes the world go 'round<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;">I<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">t's no secret that we all need money.</span></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Unfortunately, we no longer live in a society where bartering is acceptable or even possible in most instances. Can you imagine going into your local electric cooperative and being allowed to trade them an item you've grown or made for their electric services? How about walking up to the cashier at the gas station and hoping they'll take a beautiful hand-knit shawl in exchange for a full tank of gas? Yep. That probably wouldn't fly, either.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Thanks to my divorce and the not-so-just justice system these days, that's the kind of thing I've been wishing were possible. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Crazy-Kinky Boy was ordered to pay temporary child support until the divorce. It's such a small amount for three children that it doesn't even qualify as a pittance. It's barely enough for food, some gas each month...but not much else. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">His attorney sent me a letter saying that it was to cover my food, fuel, power bill, phone bill and any other expenses I might have. Let me just state for the record that if I paid my phone bill with that child support money, I wouldn't have enough left for the power bill - much less food or fuel. He also instructed me to sign my children up for governmental assistance, as well as myself. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I know what you're thinking - Why is my husband's attorney instructing me to do anything?? He's just that cocky - exactly like my husband; they're a perfect fit for each other. No doubt they think they have this thing all wrapped up with a pretty bow on top. I'm ok with *letting* them think that. For now.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">As for governmental assistance - I've been there. Done that. When I was pregnant with my first son I went and put myself on Medicaid. Crazy-Kinky Boy was working two jobs and we still didn't have any money for doctor's visits. However, as soon as he got a good, full-time job with insurance, I removed myself from that program. There were others who needed it more than myself, at that time, and I'm not the kind of person that takes advantage of things just because I can. You'd never find me "living off the government", as so many in this country do. My husband remarked many, many times over the years that we would never use government assistance unless we were desperate and have no other choice.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>I'm there, no thanks to him.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">But I'm not beyond asking for help when I need it. Such as now. I went to the agencies in charge of food stamps and state-sponsored children's health insurance program. We definitely qualify for those assistance programs right now. And we NEED them. But I was turned away because I do not have my children's original birth certificates. They will not accept copies.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I've repeatedly asked Crazy-Kinky Boy and his father for my kids' birth certificates, only to be lied to and told they 'don't have them'. I watched my father-in-law take them out of the safe when he came to retrieve my husband's belongings. He refused to give them to me when I asked for them right then.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">So, without those little pieces of paper I can't gain assistance. I have to go and get new ones from the county. Which takes....you guessed it.....MONEY. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Money I do not have. Money I've tried to keep from spending, but have had to go get food, instead, to put in the bellies of my children. Each time I try to put a little back, someone gets hungrier or has to go to the doctor or needs new underwear. That's life, right?</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Only, it's a suckier life when you're working with pennies to begin with.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In steps a beautiful, wonderful, new-found <a href="http://www.lotsoflaundry.blogspot.com/">friend</a> from my past. I've shared with her all the dirty details of my sordid affair. She's listened for hours, offered advice, been angry and frustrated for me. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Made me laugh more times than I can count. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Today - she made me cry. More than once. Please go check out her blog and see just what a friend was willing to do to help out another mother. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In mere moments, my faith in others have been restored. I've been let down tremendously by those that I would have thought would be a source of support through all of this mess in my life. I've been abandoned by family, people I *thought* were friends and even the church I was so invested in with my kids. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">But through the selfless actions of a true friend - today my faith in people is bolstered and reignited. Because of <a href="http://www.lotsoflaundry.blogspot.com/">Kim's</a> post, total and complete strangers have made it possible for me to get those birth certificates that will allow me to get the assistance for my kids that I so desperately need at this time in our lives. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>We may even have some left over for an ice cream cone @ McDonald's! That would be a major treat, right now.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Some of you may be wondering what I'm doing myself to increase our familial funds. As I said when I started this blog, I'm a homeschooler. My kids are at home with me 24/7 and I teach them myself. It's been a hard road, but one I know has been the right one for them. It's amazing what we've all learned the past (nearly) two years. I wouldn't trade it for the world.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I've considered going to work at night, but I'd have to pay a babysitter. More MONEY, gone. I've also come to the realization that for me to be able to bring in any kind of income myself, I'll have to put them back into traditional school, eventually. I don't like it, but am prepared to do it. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Only thing is....if I took a job outside the home, I'd likely have to pay for after-school childcare. Then I'd be working to pay that and bring little home, in the end. Not to mention the fact that time with my children would be whittled down to nothing. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>So, I've decided to put my God-given talents to very good use.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I learned how to sew a few years back and have gotten quite good at it. It started with beautiful clothes for my baby girl - the kinds of things I couldn't afford to buy in stores.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It's evolved into making aprons, table linens, handbags and market totes. With the occasional fancy little girls' outfit or super-hero cape thrown in for good measure.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I've sold quite a few to friends and family over the years. I even had a local boutique that carried my goods for a while. That is, until Crazy-Kinky Boy decided to go all schizophrenic on me and it was a little too much for me to handle. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I've recently been gifted (through my father) a website. It's all in the works right now. I'm in the midst of production of my first line of products. We have a photographer in Atlanta (friend of the family) set to receive my first set of samples for their "shoot" in early November. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Things are coming along, though a little slowly...but still coming along.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Please visit the <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Bayou-Kitchen/162763706651?ref=ts">Fan Page</a> on Facebook for </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Bayou-Kitchen/162763706651?ref=ts">Bayou Kitchen</a> and become a fan!</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We'll be having a FANS ONLY Kick-off Sale soon with more info on purchasing, available styles and updates on the website to follow.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'll leave y'all today with a super-grateful heart. And hope for the future.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Thanks" is not adequate for the gratitude I feel.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-19702859412609291662009-10-04T14:23:00.000-07:002009-10-04T14:23:46.344-07:00Obituary<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"><b>I'</b></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">ve been blessed in this life to not have lost very many people that I hold dear. Sure - I've experienced the deaths of a few loved ones and friends, but only one caused me to truly grieve. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">My grandfather passed away to the great unknown not long after I'd given birth to my first son. I'm grateful that I made that trip just a few months before he died to introduce him to my child. I will never forget that day. My grandmother and aunts said it was the first time he'd laughed and smiled that much in weeks. The gleam in his eyes told me he knew exactly what was taking place, even though he couldn't express it. I could tell that he was so proud of and happy for me. He loved his family more than life itself and it kind of felt as if he knew it would carry on without him here. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">When Papaw died, I was crushed. I knew it was coming and, due to how long he had suffered both mentally and physically, had even prayed for it. Prayed for his release from the confines of this life. But I still was ill-prepared. I cried and screamed and moped around for months afterwards. I missed him. He was a sort of hero to me and I didn't like what life was without him here at all. It was just too much finality for me. Though all the years he suffered from strokes (13 years, almost) I prayed for God to take him; once he did it was too much to handle. Facing the fact that I would never see his face, hear his laugh, eat another sno-cone with him ..... that was really, really difficult to come to terms with.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>But I did. Eventually.</b></span> </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Lately I've found myself behaving similarly to how I did when my Papaw passed away. The smallest detail in a movie has the power to bring forth a river of tears. Someone says something that reminds me of Crazy Kinky Boy and my eyes well up. Worst of all - out of nowhere comes a thought, in the middle of doing laundry or some other mundane, routine thing, and the next thing I know...I'm a sopping wet, shaking, mumbling mess.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Many times I feel an actual void inside. Like something is missing. Gone. Vanished. Stolen from me. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I realize then that I'm remembering the good things of my marriage. The stuff that filled my heart and warmed me. All of the things that I thought would be enough. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>But they aren't</b></span><span style="color: #cc0000;">.</span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">So, I'll ask again.....Am I grieving? Could this be part of the process of divorce? I wasn't expecting any of it. I really don't know how to deal with it, either. I've been pretty hurt, bitter and angry. Still am. Why is everything suddenly so sad? I quite honestly prefer the tougher side of this coin, as it makes me feel much more confident than tears and feelings of self-pity. But I can't seem to control it or stop it. It comes like a thief in the night. Or day. Maybe in the middle of the grocery store with people looking at me like I'm a lunatic. Whenever it damn well feels like it. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">One thing I've gained an incredible awareness of presently is my marriage was never what I thought it was or tried to make it. How could it have been? My husband was basically living a double life. Whether actively or only on the inside, at times. His heart was never one with mine. It was always conflicted, confused and wracked with guilt and shame. No wonder it would all fall apart some day.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">If something was never there in the first place and I'd only fooled myself that it was, then how can I possibly grieve that? </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>Missing what I never had - </b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>that's pretty ridiculous. </b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe the reason I'm crying all the time and feeling that void inside is because I realize what a fool I have been. I could just be feeling sorry for myself. It doesn't change the fact that something is definitely missing.....</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Hope. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The last nail in the coffin has been driven. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">And it's incredibly sad.</span></span><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-10515185983547592972009-10-04T01:36:00.000-07:002009-10-04T01:36:33.861-07:00All I Ever Wanted<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">F</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">riends from my childhood tell me they thought I was raised like a princess. In a fancy castle on a hill, with all the luxuries a kid could ever want. Parents who catered to my every whim. The only girl in a family with four children, they assumed I was fawned over daily, I guess.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The reality is - </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">that castle was filled with people. A family of six requires a lot of square footage. I did have a nice room that was decorated by a professional for Christmas one year, but it wasn't filled to the brim with Barbies and baubles. I had what I needed, of course, and some of what I wanted. As much as was possible for my dad. Just the way it should be.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">My parents were divorced and my father raised me. I had a mother who couldn't decide which was more important - her child or her own happiness. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The woman my father married had three sons. No one was making a fuss over me. There wasn't any room for that with so many kids in the house. I often had to fight for my share of food at the dinner table. Literally. I'd be ready to pounce as soon as my dad said the word "Amen". Three growing boys can make a bowl of mashed potatoes disappear mighty quickly. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe that's why I love carbs so much now?</span></span></b></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </b></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">While I was never the star of the show, I knew I was loved. But I never really felt that I fit in anywhere. Not home. Not school. Not church. Not even in my own extended family. That could have come from any number of different places. Because I was a child of divorced parents with a nutty-behaving mother? Because I always felt a bit in the way of my dad's relationship with his wife, my mom's messes? Or because I always felt like an obligation to so many people? Who knows. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">What I did know, at a very early age, was that all I ever wanted was someone to love me. I wanted my Prince Charming. The knight on a white horse. My very own Mr. Wonderful.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I wanted someone I could completely rely on. A rock. You know - the kind of man that makes all your petty troubles and insecurities a breeze to deal with because you know they've taken care of all the big stuff. I dreamed of laying my head on his chest and the cares of my world melting away. I completely fantasized about him in every way - looks, height, even the very necessary sense of humor he would have. He was a funny, strong, foxy hunk of a man that would always be there for me. The most important detail was the connection that was there naturally. So strong that words weren't even needed, at times. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>But I never found him.</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Instead, I found a guy who would always be just that. A guy. Who happened to be into guys. He left that tidbit out of his resume. I've only realized recently that it wasn't just a phase he went through when he was younger, but something that has carried on and on throughout our entire marriage. It's here to stay whether he admits it or not. Whether his parents or anyone else acknowledges it or not. I seem to be the only one willing and able to face it.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">He's someone who needed from me what I always wanted in a man. For many years, I looked at it as God's way of teaching me to give more of myself. That if I could do that for him, then maybe in the end I would have what I needed in our relationship. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Funny how that worked out for my husband and not for me. At all. That is, until I woke up, smelled the coffee and wanted something different for *both* our lives. It took me an awfully long time to figure out that no matter what I did, how I behaved, what I believed or felt....it would always be the wrong thing. And not for any of the reasons that one would initially think. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Not because there was anything wrong with me or because I was doing anything the wrong way. But because he was the wrong one. Wrong in so many ways. When I look back on the criteria I thought my mate would meet, he actually meets none of it. Evidently, I was the wrong one for him, too. In every way. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>What was I thinking??</b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b></b></span>The answer is - I wasn't. I was feeling, yes. Thinking....no. But isn't that what we all are doing when we fall in love? He was nothing like the man I'd imagined. Was yours? Likely not.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'm not giving up on my dream, though. Because I know it will come true. Just not sure when. Or how. I'll keep an open mind, of course, but it's comforting to go back to that old ideal that I held close for so long. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">When I reach the end of this road that I've only begun to tread, I hope 'he' is at the end looking only at me. Then maybe I'll feel like the princess everyone always thought me to be. </span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">He's all I ever wanted.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Sweet dreams......</span></span><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-1090611423848371042009-09-30T23:38:00.000-07:002009-09-30T23:53:41.662-07:00Selflessness - A forgotten trait<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">**Note: Silly pseudonyms have been used in place of real names to protect the innocents. I know this is an annoying practice - heck, it even annoys me - but it's necessary, so get over it.</span> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">S</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">o. </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">If you haven't already figured it out, I'm going through a very ugly divorce. So ugly, in fact, the word ugly doesn't begin to touch it. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Insane?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Most definitely.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Nasty?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Pretty much.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Let's just call it the most ug-in-nasty divorce ever in the history of divorces. That is, of course, just my opinion. But it's my divorce so I can have that opinion, right? Right.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Moving on....</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I've had quite a few low moments since this whole thing started.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Like every time my children leave to go spend their night and/or weekend in Utopia. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Down - because I don't like being without them. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Low - because I don't like being alone. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Lower - because the quietness of my house only amplifies their absence and brings on the lonely aching that grows out of divorce. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Lowest - because I know so well the insinuations and cutting remarks that are being made about their mother in the presence of the kids. Whether the adults involved care or know if they're listening or not. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Oh - they're listening, alright. More on that in another post, another day....</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">One of my lowest moments was about 2 weeks ago. It was my baby's birthday and she wasn't going to be with me. It was her weekend to visit Utopia with her brothers. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My sweet baby girl. My last one. And I wasn't going to see her on her birthday. For the first time in ten years, I was not going to be with one of my children on their birthday. The actual day of their birth. We always had a little celebration and danced at the exact time of their birth. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thank goodness all three were morning babies!</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I know - there are worse things in life, but this was hard for me. She's only five. Birthday's are still a big deal. I want to savor that for as long as possible because I know it will eventually end. I did get to speak to her early that morning, but after that I pretty much just cried for the entire day. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A few days later I was speaking with one of my neighbors. She reminded me that it was her daughter's birthday and we both remembered that our daughters are only 4 days apart in age. (For some reason we always forget this. Every year. Until right before or right after. Some neighbor I am.) The Good Neighbor invited us to Little Miss's party the upcoming weekend. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Then she asked the question. The one I was praying she wouldn't. "Did y'all have a party for Toodle Butt?" </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Of course she was going to ask. And I was going to have to explain. Oh. Hell. I could not hold back the tears.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Out it came. All of it. Thank goodness they already knew about what was happening with Crazy Kinky Boy, so it wasn't that much of a shock. But I could not stop the tears, no matter what I tried. I held my breath. Looked at the sun. Nothing worked. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">So, I just kept talking. I told her how it was Toodle Butt's weekend with her brothers at Utopia and I only got to talk to her for a few short minutes the morning of her birthday. How much I'd missed her that day and hated that I couldn't be with her. I even shared just how broke I was. That all I could afford was a few dollar store toys as a gift. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">She asked me the ubiquitous questions anyone would ask...."Did *they* give her a party? Didn't they invite you? Couldn't they have let you come see her even if only for a few minutes?" It all made me cry more. My sweet neighbor was furious for me. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I finally slowed the crying and chest heaving to a lull. We exchanged giant bear hugs and I actually felt a little better getting it all out to another mom who could understand.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The party day came for the Good Neighbor's Little Miss. Mr. Good Neighbor had come by twice just to make sure we were coming and reminding us not to be late. (Weird. I couldn't figure out why, but it was weird at the time.) </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Luckily the location wasn't far from the house, as we had very little gas in the kid bus. I'd saved what was in the tank just to get us to that party and home again. The kids donned their bathing suits and we loaded up the towels and took off. I was determined to enjoy being with my babies on the bay....splashing in the water, playing in the sand. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We were the first guests to arrive. Mr. Good Neighbor told me an earlier time on purpose. That's why he'd come by the house twice. Little stinker. He had a surprise in store for me & my brood.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">All the kids were happy to see each other. Hugs were given and squeals rang out. Then the Good Neighbors took me and Toodle Butt aside. There were two cakes on the table. They lifted the top from one to reveal a homemade creation of the most beautiful kind. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">A cake that said </span></b></span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Happy Birthday Toodle Butt".</span></b></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
</div><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">They made a cake for </span><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">my</span></b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> little girl! And brought it to </span><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">their</span></b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> daughter's party. Too much. Just way too much.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Then Mr. Good Neighbor explained that the party was for BOTH Little Miss and Toodle Butt. He and his wife could not stand that I was not able to be with her on her birthday or even see her for a moment, much less give her a party. They had to do something for us. They told me how much they loved me and my kids and wanted to do this for me. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Of course, I cried like a baby. Again. I really could not stop this time. But at least they weren't sad tears. They were joyful, blessed, supported, touched, heart-warmed tears.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">As if that weren't enough, they had a huge bag stuffed full of trinkets and toys for my precious girl. A belated birthday gift that I couldn't afford to give her. Blessing after blessing. My cup was definitely overflowing. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">That's a pretty special story all on it's own. But it's even more poignant once you know more about the Good Neighbors......</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">You see - these people are not your average family. The mother is 40 something (close to fifty)and the bread-winner of the family. The father is almost 70. He had triple bypass surgery roughly six months ago. He's unable to work and the wife supports all four of their family on a $9/hour job. They barely have two nickels to rub together. Their children are 7 and 5. Yes. You read that correctly. 7 and 5 years old - the same age as my middle and youngest kids. The kids were obviously a surprise.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">So much for vasectomies!</span></b></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I do believe this family would fall into the poverty bracket if placed on an income scale. Their house is tiny. Some would refer to it as a 'shack'. It's old and rickety and falling apart. 4 rooms total. The yard is full of junk, complete with the even tinier home of their ancestors in the front yard that's falling in on itself. With Mr. Good Neighbor unable to perform any kind of work, things are really hard for them. He's been a fisherman his entire life and their dinner often consists of his catch-of-the-day and a can of beans. Seriously. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Over the years, they've always been good neighbors. Watched out for us. Brought us fresh mullet or stuffed flounder to return the favor of some fried chicken or homemade cookies I've shared with them. But I never knew just how good a neighbor family they are until now. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">They exemplified the meaning of the word SELFLESS. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">self</span></b></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">less</span></b></span><span style="font-family: HiraMinPro-W3;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> |ˈselfləs|</span></b></span></span><span style="display: block; margin-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">adjective</span></b></span><span style="display: block;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">concerned more with the needs and wishes of others </span></b></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">than</span></b></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> with one's own; unselfish </span></b></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">: </span></b></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">an act of selfless devotion.</span></b></span></span></span></span><span style="display: block; margin-top: 1em; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">DERIVATIVES</span></b></span><span id="selfless_1" style="display: block;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">self</span></b></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">less</span></b></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">ly </span></b></span><span style="font-family: HiraMinPro-W3;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">|ˈsɛlfləsli|</span></b></span></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> adverb</span></b></span></span><span id="selfless_0" style="display: block;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">self</span></b></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">less</span></b></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">ness </span></b></span><span style="font-family: HiraMinPro-W3;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">|ˈsɛlfləsnəs|</span></b></span></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> noun</span></b></span></span><span id="selfless_0" style="display: block;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></b></span></span><span id="selfless_0" style="display: block;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">These sweet people. They've taught me one of the biggest lessons of my life. A lesson that churches and the people in them *talk* about all the time - but do not live. </span></span></span><span id="selfless_0" style="display: block;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></span><span id="selfless_0" style="display: block;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">They didn't have to do any of it. No doubt they could put the money they spent on my daughter/family to very good use of their own. For their own. But they chose to give instead. And they gave from their heart. Much more than anyone has given to me in a very, very long time. Because, let's face it - they did what they did for this Mamma. They have left their mark on my heart and I am forever changed.</span></span></span><span id="selfless_0" style="display: block;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></span><span id="selfless_0" style="display: block;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Selflessness. Too bad it isn't the newest fad sweeping the globe. It'd be a different world if it were.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-4015225541665270982009-09-19T20:34:00.000-07:002009-09-19T20:42:34.848-07:00Technology - Schmechnology<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">T</span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">he kids are in Utopia this weekend. I'm sitting at the house alone. Bored. Flipping through the boob tube.</span></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Up comes a commercial for a </span></span><a href="http://www.sonystyle.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?catalogId=10551&storeId=10151&langId=-1&productId=8198552921665921180" style="color: #3366cc; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Sony Reader</span></span></a><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Now, I'm sure there's a slew of people out there that are ecstatic about this little gadget. I mean - we </span></span><b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">have</span></span></b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> come a long way, baby. Really. It's amazing what technology has done to our culture. Both positive and negative.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
The negative is what concerns me.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
A whole generation of kids already think of books as archaic nostalgia from eras past, thanks to television, movies, video games, and other handheld devices. The cute, shiny, blinky, beepy things grab ones attention with a stealthy, unyielding grip. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> What are we gonna do when one day a child doesn't even recognize what a real book is? I know. Maybe a little extreme. But is it? Really? My nine year old only last year learned what a cassette tape was. (I grew up on cassettes. sheesh!) We had to struggle to find a radio in the house that even had a tape player in it, but after much digging we were successful. It was back in the deep, dark recesses of our storage closet. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> What I don't want to see unfold in our society's future is books being relegated to our storage closets, bins and boxes - hidden away. Only to be pulled out for history lessons on bygone "fads" of culture, or when we're feeling sentimental and want tangible reminders of our past.<br />
<br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
It could happen. Maybe.<br />
<br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
I would think if you're a traveling person, always on the go, a snazzy reader may come in handy. Hopping from plane to train to automobile with a stack of books under your arm isn't very conducive to smooth globe trotting.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
But is it really that hard to make room for a real book in your carry on? Purse? Briefcase? </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Just one...please?<br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Admittedly, I myself have succumbed to the techno age temptation of reading on a device. However, I found it to be extremely annoying.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Earlier in the summer I acquired an iPhone. I didn't want it, but nonetheless found myself a proud owner of one and before I knew it.... I was hooked on apps. I came across a free download for the book "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" and immediately clicked. Since the only time I go to the movies is to treat the kids to something cartoony or 3D, I thought I'd at least be able to read the story and have an idea of what the movie must have been like.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Three-quarters of the way through the first chapter my head started throbbing. I put the phone down and went to the kitchen to do the dishes. Within the hour my head had cleared and I decided to try reading on the iPhone again when I headed to bed. Again - headache. I tried yet again the next day and - yep. You guessed it. My head was killing me.</span></span><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Eventually it dawned on me that it must be from reading on such a tiny scale. Sure, I had the option to enlarge the words, but then only six words fit on the screen and I was scrolling so much my thumb hurt. Wah-wah.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Of course, I do need glasses, have for years, but that couldn't really be the problem. I read lots of other things all day long and don't get headachey. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I picked up a book and before I knew it had read two chapters. Nope. Not a single throb in the 'ole noggin. No bifocals for me. Yet. Whew!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> While I was performing my very scientific reading/head pain test, I noticed something. Reading an actual book is fine. It's great, in fact. I'd read more of that bonafide book in less than an hour than I had in 3 attempts at reading one on my phone.<br />
<br />
<br />
So, the moral of the story is this:</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
Read a REAL book! I promise, you will not die from this. No one will make fun of you. You can read more words more quickly than on that tiny screen you hold in your hand. Your eyes will be relieved they no longer have to strain at those teensy little words. Your head will quit throbbing. And your thumbs and fingers will not lose their texting/scrolling/typing skills while not in use. They actually need a rest and this is a really good way to give it to them. All they'll have to do is occasionally turn pages. That's it. Your digits and eyes will rejoice! </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm off to don my pj's, jump in the bed and read a book. While wearing my magnifying granny spectacles I bought at the drugstore yesterday. You know - the ones you wear way down on your nose. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">Yeah, so maybe those headaches weren't </span></span></span><i><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">entirely</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> the device's fault.</span><br />
Nighty-nite!</span></span></span>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-501990307726062632009-09-19T20:14:00.000-07:002009-09-19T20:22:40.320-07:00Dear Delusionals,<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I</b></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">am stronger than you think.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">With love,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">And I do mean love. I may be hurt, angry and fed up with all of your behaviors and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">shenanigans</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"> toward me, but I do still love you all. Oddly enough. I know for sure I will always love my husband. He helped me (with a hand from God) make the three best things I've ever done in my life. Because of that we will always be tied together. To the end of this earth and beyond. It will always be important to me that he gets the help and treatment he needs for both his emotional healing and mental health. That will never change.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Your wife and daughter-in-law,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Because that will never change, either. No matter if in the end a piece of paper says it is no more, that doesn't mean it never happened.</span></span></div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-56222885468475317482009-09-16T08:21:00.000-07:002009-09-21T21:33:01.256-07:00We now interrupt you. . . . .<div><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">. . . for no good reason at all. Daily. Repeatedly. Just because we feel like it. And you just have to deal 'cause there's nothing you can really do about it. If you do try to thwart us, we'll just label you 'uncooperative'. Should you choose to ignore us, we'll call you 'unresponsive'. In fact, any action you attempt at deflecting our maneuvers will be met with unrelenting accusations that you cannot possibly overcome. You cannot disregard the power we have over you.</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">We will wear you out. Beat you down. Erode your determination and self-confidence. You will give in and give up because we are better than you. </span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: 'courier new';"><span style="font-size: x-large;">You are weak and stupid.</span></span></span></b><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Getting under your skin is our main objective. Plus, it's just plain fun! Once we get under your skin, it's just a matter of time before you crumble. You will roll over as a dog does to its master for a belly rub. We can't wait for you to flip out, tell us off and break every rule you're supposed to be following. It's our Grand Plan and we're sure it's working! Yes - we are superior and eventually you will give up your fight and we will claim the victory. </span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So, enjoy the 3-4 emails a day from us. Telling you what to do where the kids are concerned. They'll only increase with frequency and intensity if you try to resist. We won't pick up the phone and call you about anything because we're just way too slick to do something as sensible and normal as that. Besides, there would be no record of you not doing what we demand. Emails are much better for that kind of evidence.</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Keep looking for us to visit the property there where your house is. The only land we can't come on is where the house is located. We'll be there any time the mood strikes us. Day. Night. In between. All the land around you isn't in your name, so technically - we've got you surrounded. HA! Sorry if it disturbs the kids during school time. Too bad if it distracts them from their work, chores or routine. Hopefully it'll bug you really bad and one day you'll come out there and let us have it. I just know you will.</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And we definitely plan to continue our phone calls around town to the homeschooling community to check-up on you and see where we can catch you doing wrong. Yeah, yeah - we know that it's a parent's right to choose the way their children are educated. And we also understand that both you and their father made the choice to homeschool together long before you separated. But even though he's made statements to many, many people about not trusting the government to educate his kids and not wanting to expose them to the indoctrination of the public school system and all that entails - it's clear now that you duped him into that decision. We really believe that you seduced him into homeschooling the kids. Basically (even though he's our son) he isn't smart enough to make that decision. He didn't know what he was getting into. And you led him down a path so that you could do things your way. He's not strong enough - mentally or emotionally - to make sound choices where his kids are concerned. We know you held a gun to his head and forced him to go along with you. And we plan to take away your power to raise your own children, much less teach them in a homeschool setting. You're an idiot and couldn't teach a dog to sit. </span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">We believe the best education for our grandchildren is to put them back into the same school that, back in first grade, let your oldest son go without food for an entire day just because he didn't get his lunch out of his backpack in the morning and put it in his cubby. Yes, policy was more important to them than a child having food and no, they didn't even call you to bring him something to eat, but so what! He should've followed the rules, even if he was only 6 at the time and still getting used to the routine there. </span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">We want to put the kids back in the same school system that now allows children the choice of whether or not to say the pledge of allegiance to the flag each day. The same one that does not allow prayer or talking with other students at lunchtime. You know - the one that shuffles kids through from grade to grade whether they're learning or not. Yeah, we know they could end up in high school reading on a 4th grade level, but what's the big deal? They'll be in high school like they should be by society's standards and that's what really matters. Status quo is what's important to us. More so than what the kids really need and what works best for them.</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm sure we've made it abundantly clear that what's in their best interest, all the way around, is NOT our first concern. Of course, not! What WE think is best is what we're after. Because we are all knowing. We might have raised someone who became schizophrenic and homosexual and lied about it, but that's not our fault. He was given an idyllic, perfect little childhood, as far as we're concerned. It was great for us! So therefore, we bear no responsiblity in his outcome as a person. And we are the only ones capable of raising your children, no matter how they may turn out. </span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Our track record is irrelevant.</span></span></b></span><br />
</div><div><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">We even claim 'God's will' when things go our way. When they haven't gone exactly as we expected, wanted or tried to control, we just sit back and blame you. You manipulative, scheming bitch. We hate you. </span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Though no one will ever hear those words leave our lips - not even to each other. But it IS a fact. We never even liked you one little bit. Not even when we acted the part. We were successful in fooling you, though. There's great satisfaction in that. One of our favorite memories was when one of us came to you in church, of all places, and asked your forgiveness for our treatment of and attitude towards you for the past 10 years. The best part was when we asked if we could start over. YOU FELL FOR IT!! You were so relieved, happy, felt so much better about our relationship. Of course, our only goal was to gain your trust so you would share your thoughts and plans with us. And it worked! Like we said: you're such an idiot!</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> So. Here we are. Divorce papers filed. The battle begins</span>. </b></span></span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">You might as well give up now. You are not strong enough to fight us - The Great Three Musketeers from the Dark Side. Christianity may be our declaration, but winning is our goal. At all costs. There will be no compassion, common sense, respect or cooperation from us. Much less conducting ourselves in the manner of Jesus Christ, as we pretentiously claim to live. We will annihalate you by any method possible and be in total control of everything. </span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Give. It. Up.</span></span></b></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Please enjoy our constant interruptions. They will not cease until we are victorious. You will be under our feet, where you belong.</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">With all the artificial concern, love, outward show of being 'normal people' so no one knows our real beliefs and plans that we can muster,</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Your soon to be ex-husband and in-laws</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">a.k.a. Walking Hypocritical Contradictions</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-19102441962178824042009-09-07T14:48:00.000-07:002009-09-07T17:28:26.529-07:00Labor Day pains<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">t never fails that when it rolls around every year Labor Day is fraught with labor for the mothers out there</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">. I've managed to scoot by with very little this year. Only because I've forced myself to, though. I swept. I mopped. I've done a couple of loads of laundry. Saved the cooking for tonight - a feast of grilled ribeyes with onion-blue cheese sauce (ala The Pioneer Woman), roasted potato wedges and mini chocolate lava cakes for desert.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-family: 'courier new';"> </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">I can hardly wait!</span></span><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">My babies have been delivered home safely after a fantastical visit to Utopia. aka The In-Law's House. It's back to reality for them now. I'm such a horrible person for turning off the Wii by 6pm and making them {gasp} talk to me! I've given ample warning, though, so there's no room for fussing. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">Tomorrow's our first day of school. The kids are actually happy about it and I'm pretty psyched myself. It'll be nice to get back into the routine of it all and be done with open-ended days. Those get old after a while for all of us.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">I'm just hoping we all don't have a giant brain freeze tomorrow morning right out of the gate. But I'm betting it happens. In fact, I'd bet the farm. If I had one. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-7057389266249288332009-09-06T21:19:00.000-07:002009-09-30T23:45:46.110-07:00Once upon a time . . . . . .<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span></span><span style="font-family: 'courier new';"><span style="font-size: large;">n a land that seems far, far away. I was a gorgeous filly with a flowing mane and legs that went on for ages. (hey - it <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">is</span></span> my story, okay) I was hot stuff. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'courier new';"><span style="font-size: large;">But I was the last one to know. Always a little insecure about my looks, whenever I was complimented it would go to my head a bit. Even got me into a few complicated situations a few times. Luckily I always managed to escape unharmed. Until one night. </span></span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new';"><span style="font-size: large;">I had gone down to a legendary hole-in-the-wall beach bar with a friend. I was standing at the bar waiting to order a drink when it happened. He walked up and stood right beside me. </span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">Not one for shyness, I blurted out:</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">"Don't I know you?" Knowing full well exactly who he was. Looking at the picture in my mind of him in 9th grade in the school parking lot. Hoping I wouldn't be embarrassed if his memory failed him.</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">He finally replied:</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">"Ummmm....do you? You look familiar but I just can't remember your name."</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">There it was. I could feel it. The heat rising up to my face. My cheeks getting hot. Yep. There's the sweat popping out on my forehead. Great. What if he still doesn't remember me even after I tell him my name?! Oh why, why did I even open my mouth?</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">"Yeah - um - we went to school together at ...."</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">"Ohhhhhh - yeah! I remember you now! Wow. Wow! I can't believe you remember me. You were one of the 'untouchables' back then. No guy ever thought he'd get a date with you."</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">"What? What are you talking about? No one hardly ever asked me out. Are you telling me there were guys that wanted to ask me out in high school but never did because they were scared of me turning them down??" (This can't be right. But it does explain a lot, if it's true.)</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">"Yeah. Yep. You were so beautiful. And tall. All the guys wanted to go out with you but didn't want all their friends to laugh at them if you said no. So you were dubbed 'untouchable'. Looks like you still are."</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">whaaaaa??? This is all news to me. I went the entire four years of high school wondering why I didn't get asked out like some of my girlfriends did. I thought it was because all the boys were scared to death of my father. But because I was pretty? </span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">That's. My. Luck.</span></span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">After I picked my jaw up off the floor, he asked me to join him and a couple of friends at their table. I did and he continued to tell me stories of specific guys and how they'd talk about me and how they were going to ask me out but then would chicken out in the end. I was stunned. </span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">This was one of the biggest compliments ever, I thought. In a back-handed, round-about, decades later kind of way. He continued to regale me with stories from the highschool boys' club he was a part of. Even included his own story of how he'd planned on asking me out and then didn't follow through because he thought I'd say 'no' since he was a good 3 inches shorter than me, at the time. </span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">Good thing he grew, 'cause I was hooked. He was handsome, smart and made me laugh. Plus we had a connection that went back beyond highschool, all the way to elementary school. Raised in the same town. Knew some of the same people. It was, initially, a match made in heaven. </span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">From that night on we were attached at the hip. Two peas in a pod. A couple of renegades taking on the world together. I even rode off into the sunset with him. Straight down to the ends of the earth where the sunset lasts for ages....the Florida Keys. Those were crazy fun times.</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">Then we came back home and started making a life together. And babies. Wonderful, sweet, beautiful babies. Things were hard in the beginning, as they usually are. I wish that was as hard as it ever would've been. </span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;">I couldn't have imagined or manufactured the hell our life has become. I wouldn't even wish what's happened to our family on my worst, most hated enemy. There was no way to predict or stop it, either. For now I've just got to go with the flow. Not rock the boat. Try to find balance in it all.</span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841010021920521673.post-73957836473664091852009-09-06T20:24:00.000-07:002009-09-06T20:48:53.039-07:00A blog? Why not.....<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> feel much like that lady up there. The one with the giant boat on top of her head. How could she not know it's there? It's soooooo obvious. . . . but where </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">did</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> that come from? </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Recent events in my life have had me asking that question constantly. Where did these huge children come from and what did they do with my sweet little babies? Five dogs? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">5</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">?? A couple of peacocks ready to hatch yet another? A husband who's gone off his rocker? And where did all of this homeschooling stuff come from?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Seriously???</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Things are coming out of the woodwork all over the place and multiplying before my eyes. Good. Bad. And ugly. The very, very ugly.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I need a place to put it all out there and hopefully figure it out along the way. So I won't feel like I'm walking around with a ship on my head for all the world to see. Even though, I sort of am. By starting this little online journal, I realize I'm putting my ship on display. But in a semi-private, nobody really knows me, I'm just a non-important blip on the screen kind of way. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Prepare to be shocked, amazed, horrified and even maybe a little offended. Not that I'm intentionally offensive. In fact, you may be offended FOR me about some things. I know I was. Hopefully there's a few kindred spirits out there who can understand where I'm coming from. </span></span></div>Rosalita Mamacitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06279267980319260577noreply@blogger.com0