So why am I posting a blog?!
I haven't transfered my cable over and therefore have no idea when I'll have the chance to blog again. Never fear, I will be back. However, for my future sanity and possibly my son's High School success, I have chosen to ignore the need of making the phone call that would cause TV and computer access to follow us to our new home.
I usually have Wed days off, so our move was planned to happen on Thursday and Friday. Yesterday I was told that I could have today off. As I left work yesterday the moving man called and asked if we could do the move Wed and Thursday instead. YES!
I have been a bit worried because there are workers tearing up and redoing our street. I kept wondering if it would interfer with our move. My question was answered with a phone message yesterday. Instead of working on our street Wed as planned it wouldn't start until Friday.
All these things would seem circumstansial, but I believe it was a God thing!
I'll be around. Eventually.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
She told me not to do this, but...
I love her.
This isn't really for any of you who read my mother's blog, its mostly just for her. I am putting it up for all to see though...purposely.
I disappear. Thats how I cope. I disappear emotionally and just recently, physically. When I was little, it was upstairs in my room. Now, its out. Out into the unknown. Which is more scary than my room. Oddly, not knowing what I'm doing or where I'm at makes it easier for me to run. I have a sore feeling though that I'm no longer running from my confusing relationship with my mother...I'm running from me.
I never told my mother this and I think its somewhat risky putting such a private memory on the internet for you to see.
I remember when I was very young calling "mommy!" into the night when I was absolutely terrified of the monsters that lived under my bed. I used to be so scared that I jumped at the sound of my own voice when I said her name into the silence. This was my routine when I got scared...
Pull covers all the way up to my chin and keep my arms and legs close to my body.
Close my eyes tighter and tighter until I saw all those swirling pretty colors that come when you close your eyes too tight.
Whisper "mommy" and only get louder when I got used to saying it without scaring myself.
It took awhile before I actually got loud enough for her to hear me. Although this seems like a long process, it was only a matter of seconds before I heard comfort on its way. I could hear her roll over. I could hear her sigh when she sat up from a wonderful, warm sleep close to my daddy. I could hear her feet dragging on the carpet. I heard her come into my room. And then I heard her say the words that, to me, saved my life, "Mommy's here, baby." Then, I opened my eyes. I remember I was so little that I could hug her knee when she sat on my bed; my tiny arms didn't even go all the way around her leg. Mommy, to me, was God.
She ran to me when I screamed. She softly whispered, "don't cry." when tears poured. She instinctively threw her arm across my chest when she had to slam on the brakes when we went driving. she bandaged my scabby knees. She watched me sleep. She rocked me to sleep and if I let her, she still would.
God would sit on the side of my bed and caress my tummy until I fell asleep again. Sometimes, God was so tired that God would fall asleep sitting there. I would have to wake God up and tell her "don't stop." And God would continue to caress my tummy. I was safe. God was caressing me back to sleep. I knew the monsters wouldn't come when God was with me.
I don't know what happened. I don't know when exactly I started to disappear. It's like I got scared of the raw exposure of of my severe need of someone to always comfort me. I felt wierd. It felt strange to be 16 and still need God to sit on the side of my bed. So I pushed God away from me. I forced myself (unfortunately successfully) to "grow out of it." I was still doing a lot of things a normal growing girl would grow out of. So I pushed God off my bed. The thing that I didn't think would happen was, God wasn't ready to say goodnight. I think it hurt her. I think it hurt really really bad.
Over time, the disappearing act became more and more comfortable only because when I disappeared, the situation did as well. And when it all disappeared, the false happy came. the false happy was something we could both agree on.
Don't ever disappear. Don't ever hide. Don't ever run. Don't ever hold anything back. Now, I hold even the good stuff back. I hold back everything when I'm with my mom. I don't do it intentionally. Its just the disease I let eat me. I cry literally after I see my mom. I did tonight in the car after church. I cried. hard. Because I wanted to be a five year old, scared of the monsters, and wrap myself around my mommy. I wanted so bad to talk to her and to be with her. But I just couldn't do it. The disappearing disease wouldn't let me. I tried. She was sitting with a friend after church and was talking to her. Me and my boyfriend sat behind her. waiting. I didn't say anything. I should have. But I didn't know how. Its hard to tear down a wall that I built with my own hate and pride. It's like Im my worst enemy now. The worst part about it all.... God got used to being pushed away.
After I try and fail I just retreat back to what I know. Even though what I know isn't comfortable anymore. It hurts worse than trying now.
Greg, my boyfriend, showed me how to come out from hiding. Somehow, he saw past the shell I locked myself in. He looked at me oneday and said, "Just cry..." Thats all he said. He tried before then to get me to let go of the hurt I carried with me everywhere I went, but I never let it work. My dad was also gone. I never told anyone, but not hearing my daddys "I'M HOME!!" everyday sent me into a world that spoke a different language. I couldn't keep up. Gregory, looking me in the eye and begging me to let go and just cry, somehow was the net I needed. I needed to know he would catch me when I decided it was safe to fall.
Falling was exactly what I needed to do.
I love you mom. I'm sorry that I pushed you away from me. I had know idea that I needed you. I do know that I need you now. It took too long for me to figure it out and it took too long for me to get over myself, but if somehow I could just let you know that I love you. I'm not a grown up. I'm not ready for anything. I'm not ready because I never let you prepare me. I love you mommy.
"Through every child's eyes, mother is God." -anonymous.
I'm sorry I posted a blog.
This isn't really for any of you who read my mother's blog, its mostly just for her. I am putting it up for all to see though...purposely.
I disappear. Thats how I cope. I disappear emotionally and just recently, physically. When I was little, it was upstairs in my room. Now, its out. Out into the unknown. Which is more scary than my room. Oddly, not knowing what I'm doing or where I'm at makes it easier for me to run. I have a sore feeling though that I'm no longer running from my confusing relationship with my mother...I'm running from me.
I never told my mother this and I think its somewhat risky putting such a private memory on the internet for you to see.
I remember when I was very young calling "mommy!" into the night when I was absolutely terrified of the monsters that lived under my bed. I used to be so scared that I jumped at the sound of my own voice when I said her name into the silence. This was my routine when I got scared...
Pull covers all the way up to my chin and keep my arms and legs close to my body.
Close my eyes tighter and tighter until I saw all those swirling pretty colors that come when you close your eyes too tight.
Whisper "mommy" and only get louder when I got used to saying it without scaring myself.
It took awhile before I actually got loud enough for her to hear me. Although this seems like a long process, it was only a matter of seconds before I heard comfort on its way. I could hear her roll over. I could hear her sigh when she sat up from a wonderful, warm sleep close to my daddy. I could hear her feet dragging on the carpet. I heard her come into my room. And then I heard her say the words that, to me, saved my life, "Mommy's here, baby." Then, I opened my eyes. I remember I was so little that I could hug her knee when she sat on my bed; my tiny arms didn't even go all the way around her leg. Mommy, to me, was God.
She ran to me when I screamed. She softly whispered, "don't cry." when tears poured. She instinctively threw her arm across my chest when she had to slam on the brakes when we went driving. she bandaged my scabby knees. She watched me sleep. She rocked me to sleep and if I let her, she still would.
God would sit on the side of my bed and caress my tummy until I fell asleep again. Sometimes, God was so tired that God would fall asleep sitting there. I would have to wake God up and tell her "don't stop." And God would continue to caress my tummy. I was safe. God was caressing me back to sleep. I knew the monsters wouldn't come when God was with me.
I don't know what happened. I don't know when exactly I started to disappear. It's like I got scared of the raw exposure of of my severe need of someone to always comfort me. I felt wierd. It felt strange to be 16 and still need God to sit on the side of my bed. So I pushed God away from me. I forced myself (unfortunately successfully) to "grow out of it." I was still doing a lot of things a normal growing girl would grow out of. So I pushed God off my bed. The thing that I didn't think would happen was, God wasn't ready to say goodnight. I think it hurt her. I think it hurt really really bad.
Over time, the disappearing act became more and more comfortable only because when I disappeared, the situation did as well. And when it all disappeared, the false happy came. the false happy was something we could both agree on.
Don't ever disappear. Don't ever hide. Don't ever run. Don't ever hold anything back. Now, I hold even the good stuff back. I hold back everything when I'm with my mom. I don't do it intentionally. Its just the disease I let eat me. I cry literally after I see my mom. I did tonight in the car after church. I cried. hard. Because I wanted to be a five year old, scared of the monsters, and wrap myself around my mommy. I wanted so bad to talk to her and to be with her. But I just couldn't do it. The disappearing disease wouldn't let me. I tried. She was sitting with a friend after church and was talking to her. Me and my boyfriend sat behind her. waiting. I didn't say anything. I should have. But I didn't know how. Its hard to tear down a wall that I built with my own hate and pride. It's like Im my worst enemy now. The worst part about it all.... God got used to being pushed away.
After I try and fail I just retreat back to what I know. Even though what I know isn't comfortable anymore. It hurts worse than trying now.
Greg, my boyfriend, showed me how to come out from hiding. Somehow, he saw past the shell I locked myself in. He looked at me oneday and said, "Just cry..." Thats all he said. He tried before then to get me to let go of the hurt I carried with me everywhere I went, but I never let it work. My dad was also gone. I never told anyone, but not hearing my daddys "I'M HOME!!" everyday sent me into a world that spoke a different language. I couldn't keep up. Gregory, looking me in the eye and begging me to let go and just cry, somehow was the net I needed. I needed to know he would catch me when I decided it was safe to fall.
Falling was exactly what I needed to do.
I love you mom. I'm sorry that I pushed you away from me. I had know idea that I needed you. I do know that I need you now. It took too long for me to figure it out and it took too long for me to get over myself, but if somehow I could just let you know that I love you. I'm not a grown up. I'm not ready for anything. I'm not ready because I never let you prepare me. I love you mommy.
"Through every child's eyes, mother is God." -anonymous.
I'm sorry I posted a blog.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
The House
WE GOT ONE!!!
No, we didn't buy it. We are leasing it. So here's the story:
This huge, beautiful, adobe home went up for sale in the neighborhood we used to live in. The price on the house was ridicuously high, so we watched. It went on the market before Michael went to Okinawa. The price was reduced many times, then the 'for lease' sign went up. Of course I called; more then we could afford.
Then I obtained a realitor and started looking for a house to buy. She took us up to this house, knowing that there was no way we could afford it. With all the talk about it being a buyers market we decided to offer a price for it. The offer was turned down. Honestly, I was glad. Not because I didn't want the house but because the monthly cost of what we offered would have stretched us too tight.
So then we offered a lease to own deal. He countered with an offer that we couldn't agree with, so we said no. We still watched the house and continued to look at others. I just couldn't bring myself to pay the asking prices for these houses, nor did I find one I just couldn't live with out.
Next thing I knew Michael had called the realitor of the Adobe house and offered a lease price for the house. He countered with one that was in our ball park, so Michael ask what it included. Since it's a new house there were no blinds or fridge. To make a long story short this is what we got: Blinds and fridge installed, pets allowed, 2 year lease and our monthly lease is the same as what the military gives us for living out in town. The only out of pocket expense we have incurred is the utilities. The moving expense of moving in is taking my breath away, but this shall pass. :)
The other neat thing: the military is moving us. Michael is actually stationed in Okinawa and has orders back to here. Since he has orders that move him, he rates a military move. Oh happy day! Michael and I have done a couple 'ditty' moves. The kind where you move yourself and the militray gives you the money. Most people rave about the money they made doing it that way. Michael and I just didn't see it that way. Plus, with him being home only on week ends right now---it's just a blessing that someone eles is going to move us! 2 days and it's done.
I'll get pictures and post them later. I am so excited I can't see straight. I consider it a huge priveledge to have the opportunity to live in this house if only for a while.
No, we didn't buy it. We are leasing it. So here's the story:
This huge, beautiful, adobe home went up for sale in the neighborhood we used to live in. The price on the house was ridicuously high, so we watched. It went on the market before Michael went to Okinawa. The price was reduced many times, then the 'for lease' sign went up. Of course I called; more then we could afford.
Then I obtained a realitor and started looking for a house to buy. She took us up to this house, knowing that there was no way we could afford it. With all the talk about it being a buyers market we decided to offer a price for it. The offer was turned down. Honestly, I was glad. Not because I didn't want the house but because the monthly cost of what we offered would have stretched us too tight.
So then we offered a lease to own deal. He countered with an offer that we couldn't agree with, so we said no. We still watched the house and continued to look at others. I just couldn't bring myself to pay the asking prices for these houses, nor did I find one I just couldn't live with out.
Next thing I knew Michael had called the realitor of the Adobe house and offered a lease price for the house. He countered with one that was in our ball park, so Michael ask what it included. Since it's a new house there were no blinds or fridge. To make a long story short this is what we got: Blinds and fridge installed, pets allowed, 2 year lease and our monthly lease is the same as what the military gives us for living out in town. The only out of pocket expense we have incurred is the utilities. The moving expense of moving in is taking my breath away, but this shall pass. :)
The other neat thing: the military is moving us. Michael is actually stationed in Okinawa and has orders back to here. Since he has orders that move him, he rates a military move. Oh happy day! Michael and I have done a couple 'ditty' moves. The kind where you move yourself and the militray gives you the money. Most people rave about the money they made doing it that way. Michael and I just didn't see it that way. Plus, with him being home only on week ends right now---it's just a blessing that someone eles is going to move us! 2 days and it's done.
I'll get pictures and post them later. I am so excited I can't see straight. I consider it a huge priveledge to have the opportunity to live in this house if only for a while.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Perspective
The last couple of days there have been many things on my mind; things that I have been allowing to stress me badly. So much so that I had a mental post entitled: Warning Whining Ahead.
This morning I finally got some uninterrupted time at the computer, so I set out to write said post. First, I decided to read and catch up.
Grafted Branch had a post about a friend I know, I'd read her post in a minute. I continued to read Grafted Branch's post and loved the pictures and her summary of her growing family. What I took away with teary eyes was enjoy them now.
Then I clicked on the blog Grafted Branch had linked: Heart and Home. Well, folks, let me just say that 30 minutes later and not a dry spot on my face, I gathered my self up and decided whining just wasn't appropriate.
What really touched my heart and knocked my socks off was the number of comments posted to the blog of Heart and Home. Commitments of prayer and words of encouragement. WOW!
This morning I finally got some uninterrupted time at the computer, so I set out to write said post. First, I decided to read and catch up.
Grafted Branch had a post about a friend I know, I'd read her post in a minute. I continued to read Grafted Branch's post and loved the pictures and her summary of her growing family. What I took away with teary eyes was enjoy them now.
Then I clicked on the blog Grafted Branch had linked: Heart and Home. Well, folks, let me just say that 30 minutes later and not a dry spot on my face, I gathered my self up and decided whining just wasn't appropriate.
What really touched my heart and knocked my socks off was the number of comments posted to the blog of Heart and Home. Commitments of prayer and words of encouragement. WOW!
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Touching Moment
As most of you know I am a nurse that works in the operating room. Back before Christmas we had a patient that had to come to the operating room many times, some times back to back days. He was not a happy man. Due to confidentiality issues I can't go into details, however I do wish to share today. One of the girls I work with realized that today is this man's birthday and he is STILL in the hospital. So she gathers myself and another girl up and talks us into taking the patient a card and stuffed animal and sing him happy birthday. She really didn't have to talk us into it, we were willing just fearful of the reception we would receive. Like I said he was a very unhappy, sick man before Christmas. Not receptive to much interaction.
So feeling a bit uneasy I joined them and off we went. We walked into the room which was dark. As we introduced our self (reminded him who we were) he turned on the light. I was amazed at the difference in him, he looked really good. Here's the best part:
As we gave him his card and gift he began to cry. He reached for the little stuffed animal and petted it as if it were real. Fighting tears I joined the others in singing happy birthday. As we left the room I thanked my friend profusely for allowing me to join her.
Such a small gesture that was so well received. This patient not only needed the human touch he wanted and appreciated it.
It's the small things, the unexpected kindness of others that touches so deeply. Today I was on the giving end and was touched just as deeply as I believe that patient was.
So feeling a bit uneasy I joined them and off we went. We walked into the room which was dark. As we introduced our self (reminded him who we were) he turned on the light. I was amazed at the difference in him, he looked really good. Here's the best part:
As we gave him his card and gift he began to cry. He reached for the little stuffed animal and petted it as if it were real. Fighting tears I joined the others in singing happy birthday. As we left the room I thanked my friend profusely for allowing me to join her.
Such a small gesture that was so well received. This patient not only needed the human touch he wanted and appreciated it.
It's the small things, the unexpected kindness of others that touches so deeply. Today I was on the giving end and was touched just as deeply as I believe that patient was.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Oh My--Ramblings
Back before Christmas I had plans--lots of plans-- to accomplish much. Tomorrow it's back to the school/work routine. I want to say nothing was accomplished. That can't possibly be true. However, since I didn't make a list to check off, it's real easy to fall into the NOTHING got done pity party. So, beginning tonight I will start a to do list.
As you know my husband did make it home for the Holidays and yes it was great! Today I took him to pick up his rental car. He is on his way to Arizona for 3 months of training. This is a great thing, I think.
Kevin and I have been talking about changing our eating habits, from fast food and junk to healthy veggies. So, I did accomplish cleaning out the fridge and the pantry. Kevin and I have been talking about food for years. This is the first time he is voluntarily on board with me. Unfortunately, when it comes to food he and I have NO will power. So, every thing was pitched in the trash. Now if I can just keep the car from automatically pulling into those fast food places we'll be good to go. Tonight we had pizza and brownies. Tomorrow, we start. The fridge is full of fresh fruits and veggies. I plan to juice and he plans to blend. We will still cook, just not often. Seeing as how much I just love to cook this shouldn't be a problem. Your prayers would be appreciated. I know that this isn't a serious thing, nothing like my husband being gone or others husbands being gone. On the surface it's just a food issue; underneath it is a self control issue and only the Holy Spirit can intervene and win this battle.
Lastly, we spent Michael's last week end here looking at houses. I want to buy a house SO bad. We keep hearing that it is a buyers market, so we put our buying self's out there and took a look. What they didn't tell us is the buyer for this market has to be a millionaire. Sure the original prices are dropping but they gonna have to drop bunches more before I'll bite.
The hard part is going to be to pull myself back to reality and remember what I'm supposed to be doing right now. Like keeping a clean house, blending healthy veggies and getting to work on time.
I guess the next step is getting to bed at a decent hour so I can get up.
Have a great week you guys.
As you know my husband did make it home for the Holidays and yes it was great! Today I took him to pick up his rental car. He is on his way to Arizona for 3 months of training. This is a great thing, I think.
Kevin and I have been talking about changing our eating habits, from fast food and junk to healthy veggies. So, I did accomplish cleaning out the fridge and the pantry. Kevin and I have been talking about food for years. This is the first time he is voluntarily on board with me. Unfortunately, when it comes to food he and I have NO will power. So, every thing was pitched in the trash. Now if I can just keep the car from automatically pulling into those fast food places we'll be good to go. Tonight we had pizza and brownies. Tomorrow, we start. The fridge is full of fresh fruits and veggies. I plan to juice and he plans to blend. We will still cook, just not often. Seeing as how much I just love to cook this shouldn't be a problem. Your prayers would be appreciated. I know that this isn't a serious thing, nothing like my husband being gone or others husbands being gone. On the surface it's just a food issue; underneath it is a self control issue and only the Holy Spirit can intervene and win this battle.
Lastly, we spent Michael's last week end here looking at houses. I want to buy a house SO bad. We keep hearing that it is a buyers market, so we put our buying self's out there and took a look. What they didn't tell us is the buyer for this market has to be a millionaire. Sure the original prices are dropping but they gonna have to drop bunches more before I'll bite.
The hard part is going to be to pull myself back to reality and remember what I'm supposed to be doing right now. Like keeping a clean house, blending healthy veggies and getting to work on time.
I guess the next step is getting to bed at a decent hour so I can get up.
Have a great week you guys.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Bicycles
Before Michael left for Okinawa back in July, he helped me clean out the garage. I wouldn't let him haul it all off because I could make some good money off it in a garage sale. Well, yesterday, we hauled all that good money making junk to the thrift store. It was quite hard for me. I had no problem getting it out of my garage, but losing all that potential $ was killing me. ;)
One of the things to go was the first table and chair set that Michael and I bought as a married couple. It lived and traveled with us for 20 years. Kevin was bummed to see it go. I had to chuckle about my guys and their need to hang on to some things. The mind wandered back to the bicycles.
We have in our garage a little orange bike that Michael refuses to get rid of. Believe me I tried. Then Michael told me why he wanted to keep Kevin's little orange bike.
First, I have to take a brief trip back to the trike. When Kevin was 2 yrs. old he was riding his trike when Michael called every one in for supper. Kevin got off his trike, left it where it was, and came inside. He was told to bring his trike home or it would be pitched in the trash. That was fine with him and when it went in the dumpster he never missed a beat. I, however, had a fit; behind his back. After he went to bed we fished out the trike and hid it away for a while. Kevin never missed it.
Then, in kindergarten Kevin rode his bike with training wheels. I could hear him riding out in the street; he would either be singing or whistling at the top of his lungs. He was the happiest kid on the block. One day my wonderful, drill instructor husband decided that Kevin needed to ride without the training wheels. This day was horrible. I won't go into details; I'll just say there were many tears that day and years later apologies. Kevin never touched that bike again.
Finally, when Kevin was 10 years old we moved to Pensacola, Florida. Michael and I reversed roles; he stayed home to school Kevin and I went to full time work. I don't remember when the orange bike was bought, but this is the time in which it earned it's permanent home in our garage. Michael would run during the day and have Kevin ride this bike beside him. So, when I wouldn't let up on getting rid of the thing Michael shared with me that that bike represented a good thing in a very bad time of our lives.
So, if you're in my garage 40 years from now and see a little orange bike, that's why.
One of the things to go was the first table and chair set that Michael and I bought as a married couple. It lived and traveled with us for 20 years. Kevin was bummed to see it go. I had to chuckle about my guys and their need to hang on to some things. The mind wandered back to the bicycles.
We have in our garage a little orange bike that Michael refuses to get rid of. Believe me I tried. Then Michael told me why he wanted to keep Kevin's little orange bike.
First, I have to take a brief trip back to the trike. When Kevin was 2 yrs. old he was riding his trike when Michael called every one in for supper. Kevin got off his trike, left it where it was, and came inside. He was told to bring his trike home or it would be pitched in the trash. That was fine with him and when it went in the dumpster he never missed a beat. I, however, had a fit; behind his back. After he went to bed we fished out the trike and hid it away for a while. Kevin never missed it.
Then, in kindergarten Kevin rode his bike with training wheels. I could hear him riding out in the street; he would either be singing or whistling at the top of his lungs. He was the happiest kid on the block. One day my wonderful, drill instructor husband decided that Kevin needed to ride without the training wheels. This day was horrible. I won't go into details; I'll just say there were many tears that day and years later apologies. Kevin never touched that bike again.
Finally, when Kevin was 10 years old we moved to Pensacola, Florida. Michael and I reversed roles; he stayed home to school Kevin and I went to full time work. I don't remember when the orange bike was bought, but this is the time in which it earned it's permanent home in our garage. Michael would run during the day and have Kevin ride this bike beside him. So, when I wouldn't let up on getting rid of the thing Michael shared with me that that bike represented a good thing in a very bad time of our lives.
So, if you're in my garage 40 years from now and see a little orange bike, that's why.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
