Revelations Chapter 1, Verse 1

I realized something this weekend.

I'm VERY bothered that it seems I'm so far behind in life compared to others my age.

Let me explain. We visited with some folks at the lake this weekend. We'll call them the Purples. The Purples are just a few years older than Husband and I. They are GRANDPARENTS. They are HOMEOWNERS. They are GROWN-UPS.

We, no.. I am not the first two and don't FEEL like the third. Shecky just turned 8. Most people my age have grand kids.... I feel sort of... out of the loop and left behind. How foolish is that?

Then, yesterday, I was conversing with my parents. Dad mentioned the fact that my brother was going to be a grandfather... my YOUNGER brother... and I was MORTIFIED. I was... JEALOUS. I was SAD. He had beaten me to that milestone by a long, LONG margin.

I wouldn't exchange my child for an older one. I don't want to wish away his youth. I'm THRILLED that he keeps me young and keeps me going. However, I can't help feeling like I've missed the bus somewhere and that I'm a failure at being an adult.

By the way, the age of my son isn't the only thing that makes me feel this way. It's just one that KEEPS popping up for me. :)

GobSmacked...

Yanno that post I made yesterday? With all the whining, self-loathing and frustration? Yeah. I got slapped back into my place.

I watched Idol Gives Back tonight... (SHUT! UP! Jason Castro makes me wanna weep... among other things *Cough*) and I realized I have no call, no RIGHT to complain about my life.

I have people who love me. I have people who want to and do help me. I have resources. I have a roof over my head. I have clean drinking water. I don't need mosquito netting to prevent malaria. I don't have HIV OR AIDS. I'm not an orphan. I have a great, goofy, loving child.

The rest of it truly doesn't matter in the overall scheme of things. So, SO sorry I was such a schmuck.

I have challenges. I have issues. I have problems... but I'll muddle through them. I always do. I always will.

Raising a child mostly alone sucks... but there is so much worse going on out there in the big bad world... ::Shudder::

Call your parents. Hug and kiss your kids. Realize how lucky you are. My new mantras.

I'm So Very Tired...

Not physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

I've been single parenting for a long time. I'm married, yes. However it would seem I'm the only one taking a hand in directing our child's growth and ... stuff. I'm so very tired.

I'm tired of being the one to fuss about Shecky picking up after himself. I'm tired of being the one helping with homework and cracking the whip so that he studies. I'm tired of being the one who deals with the defiance and lying. I'm tired of being the one that takes an interest in his day, correcting his behavioral problems, cheering on his accomplishments, spending the special time with him and being the hand of discipline and justice...

Wow. Re-reading what I wrote I realize how horrible that makes me sound, and how inaccurate it is. I AM tired of those things, but, there is a very important word missing from those sentences. Alone. I'm tired of being the only one responsible for these things and its beginning to overwhelm me and side track what I'm trying to do here at the lake.

I'm so busy with Shecky and making sure he's getting all I can give him and all he needs that I've completely lost my focus on why I'm here.

I came here to save my life. I came here to loose weight and get to where I can, physically, take care of my family, my home and myself without feeling like my heart was going to explode. I've lost 70 lbs. since July of 2007. That's a lot, I know, but I can't help but feel that it should be more. I should be less. Whatever.

I feel like I'm letting myself down. Hell, to be perfectly frank I'm letting everyone down. I can't be all things to Shecky. Even though I'm a big girl... that's not THAT much of me to go around.

I'm not eating the way I should. I've been cheating here and there... often without even really thinking about it or realizing it. I've been slacking a bit on the exercise. I've only been averaging 3 times a week lately. It's obviously not enough. My results would be far different if it was.

I'm letting down my parents who are letting me live here at no cost and who have spent over $10, 000.00 on things to make my weight loss easier and more comfortable.

The very worst part of all of this? I'm scared. I'm not sure I have it in me to make this work. I don't have a lot left in me. I'm stressed. I'm worn out. I've got no give left and I don't know how to fix it... which makes me even more exhausted...

I swear to God I'm trying guys. I'm just kinda... lost right now.

It's The End Of The World As We Know It...

... But I don't feel fine...

I have a situation that I'm not sure how to address.

I've mentioned Shecky's Godfather before, Unca B. I failed to mention that he has something called Wegner's Granulatomasis Vasculitis. It's bad. It's difficult. It's... well, basically it's killing him. It's attacked his kidneys, his sinuses and now its begun an assault on his lungs. He has nodules and scarring and is now exhibiting pleuresy like symptoms... only... not pleuresy. Last Tuesday he wound up in the ER unable to breathe. Tonight on the phone he sounded like ass. Warmed Over Ass, to be precise. I thought he was tired... but no... he's having problems breathing.

I have to tell you, I love this man with every piece of my being. I have for a long time. He's my best friend, my biggest support and the first one to call bullshit on me when its needed. I'm scared taht he's dying. No, I KNOW he's dying. I'm scared that its happening WAY faster than I'm ready for. I'm not sure how to deal with that.

That's not really the problem. Shecky LOVES Unca B. Like, HERO WORSHIPS the man. How do I explain it all to him? or... Do I at all? Do I just tell him he's sick and leave it at that? Do I say nothing and when the end comes just tell him he's gone? Can I just leave the child a note? Yeah, I know... Bad Mommy. I'm just at a complete loss on this one. Dealing with my own feelings about his illness is impossible... How do I do it for him?

What Am I To Who?

I had the opportunity to reflect on my relationships with my parents today. Dude, I'm totally scared of MYSELF right now.

Mom and I have a good relationship. We're friends. We enjoy doing stuff together. When American Idol is on we call each other after each performance to dish and critique. Mom talks to me about things she's having issues with. She asks my advise and I do the same. Its a reciprocal relationship. I'm really glad that we're more than just Mother and Daughter.

Dad and I are a totally different story. He's still "Daddy" and I'm still his kid. So MUCH so that I can't have an adult conversation with him. I suddenly turn into a brainless, willful, overly emotional 12 year old who just wants Daddy's approval and understanding. WTF??? Why in the Hell do I DO that? It drives me INSANE. I hate feeling like that child. I hate that when he bellows I get all... Wahhhhhh. Yanno? How did I end up with completely OPPOSITE types of relationships with my parents?

I turn 39 in a few days... why is his approval and understanding still something I need so badly? I'm a good mom. I'm a decent wife. I'm a GREAT friend. I'm smart. I'm funny. I'm witty. I'm a dork. I know all this. Why is it so flippin' important that HE recognize it?

Meh. Mebbe I'm just overtired....

What Kind Of Person...

AM I? I've been forced to ask myself this question a lot lately.

The Monday before Christmas was one of those days. We had to travel to my grandmother's house so maintenance on her heater could be done. NEVERMIND that no one actually.... yanno... LIVES there anymore. We drove the hour and a half to her house and let the dude in. Everything was fine. Blah, blah, blah.

Mom decided we needed to go Cemetery hopping since we were in town. First, we went to her fathers grave site. I said a lil prayer, got back in the car with Shecky, yes... Shecky was with us, and gave her a few moments to herself. Next we went to the cemetery a town or two over where my father's parents and brother were all buried. We cleaned the headstones. We placed some flowers. I said a prayer for each of them. I explained to Shecky who they were and what they were like. They had all passed away before he was born, really, LONG before. We then went to my great uncle's grave and said a prayer for him.

Now, this is where I started having to question myself as to what kind of person I am. Close to my great uncle's grave was the grave site of a very dear friend of mine. In fact, she was so dear to me I named Shecky after her. I never CAN find her spot. Mom found it. I took Shecky to her grave and explained who she was. Why she was important in my life and why I named him after her. Then... I cried... buckets.

She died 12 years ago folks. She's been gone a long, LONG time. Longer than most of the others I visited that day. However, she was the loss that made me weep. She was the one who's absence made me hurt. She was the one I missed... even still. She was the one I wanted my son to have known and HATED that he never would.

On the 2 hour drive home I had to ponder all of this. What does this say about me? Am I a bad person for not crying over my grandparents graves? My uncle's? Does it mean they didn't effect/affect me as much as she did? Is it just because she was lost to us at such a young age while the others had all lived such full lives? Was I just messed up in my head? Meh.

I never really reached any conclusions. I just know I still miss her and the world is worse off without her....

I'm NOT Quite Sure How To Take This....

I had an interesting conversation with my father this evening. Let me preface this with a little pertinent information.

• Dad very rarely talks about things philosophically or psychologically.
• He's usually drunk when he does.
• He was drunk tonight.

Now, he started the conversation by telling me what a great job I'm doing with my son. That's he's bright and I encourage that trait and am doing all the right things with that aspect. He said that Shecky has a great personality and I'm helping him cultivate that in a terrific manner. He said my child is a mamma's boy and needs to man up...

Whu? He's 7 frickin' years OLD Dude.... WTF?

THEN he informs me that I need to stop using the "Do what I tell you cause I'm the parent that's why" philosophy of parenting.

Ummmm HUH? That's how he raised US! WTF??

Next... I hear him telling me that he made mistakes with my brother and I that I can do better than he did... and it hit me...

He was trying to tell me not to make the same mistakes with MY child that he made with us... and I was floored... and humbled... and shocked.. and more than a little taken aback... Cause.. My Dad... NEVER, EVER admits he is wrong... EVER. He once accused the DICTIONARY of being wrong cause it didn't agree with his spelling of a word... and then, I had a long think about what he was telling me.

I WAS getting into the habit of yelling at Sheck and doing the "ONE! TWO! YOU BETTER DO IT BEFORE I GET TO 3 OR I'LL GROUND YOU TILL YOU ARE 97! 2 AND A HALF!..." I used to take the time to explain why he couldn't do what he wanted or why it was a bad idea to feed the dog hot dogs... from his own mouth... and now... I don't. I've been so involved in my struggle to loose weight and get healthier that I've kind of let the way I wanted to raise my kid fall by the wayside.

Yeah... I help him study. Yeah... we have a night designated to just hang out together. However, the lessons I teach him by how I deal with him are just flat not the ones I wanted to teach him. I never WANTED to be THAT kind of parent... and now... it would seem... I am... or... was. Tonight, I started talking to him again instead of yelling at him. Hopefully, I can retrain the both of us and do a little better by him.

Thanks Dad.

Mirror, Mirror

I know I've already posted today, but, I need to get this off my chest. A couple of months ago R. ran into an old friend of ours from when we lived in West Texas. I adore her. I adore her son. She helped with the flowers and the cake for our wedding. I used to babysit her son. We lived across the street from one another when we were living on a military base. She's a dear, dear friend. I love being back in touch with her.

However, she wants to get together with me and I'm balking every time she suggests it. She hasn't seen me in years. I was a large lady when she knew me but I'm much larger now. I'm embarrassed for her to see me. I hate myself for that but I'm not sure how to overcome it. Her son, who is now 15 God help me, wants to see me too. He has fond memories of R. and I which is good. I loved the kid like he was my own. I don't want to ruin those good memories or feelings for him by letting him see what I am now. I don't want her feeling repulsed by me, much like I am on the rare occasions I see my reflection.

I know it sounds like I'm throwing myself a pity party. Unfortunately, these are my real feelings and fears. I know many will say, "Then DO something about it." It's not that simple or easy. I wish to God it was. If it WAS, I'd be thin or at least average. I've tried.

I'm gearing up to try again. I have a plan and hopefully all the pieces will fall into place in the next week or so and I'll let you all in on it. :) God... please, let me get it right this time.