Keep It Simple Silly!

I am now 42 years old! And I feel 16, so what’s up with that? :D

I’ve not written in my blog because I’ve been preoccupied with what is going on in the world. I don’t know about you, but I am frightened and excited by what is going on in Libya. Is there anyone else that remembers the Carter years? Does anyone see the similarities? The royal wedding… Princess Diana’s and Prince Charles’ first born is getting married and he is marrying during a time of great turmoil, as it was when Di and Charles wed. I don’t think their marriage will have the same caveats as Di and Charles… at least we can hope that they would have learned from past indiscretions. As if I know them!

What I mean by this is how ironically strange it is that as much as things change they stay the same. There will be a time of great prosperity. It’s just this time I’m wondering if this is the end of times, whatever that might encompass. I also don’t want to go through my life like Chicken Little. That is not the way to live. And what is really neat is that it doesn’t seem to be affecting my sons, and I don’t really want it to. I know I was aware at their age, but I wasn’t frightened at their age, and I don’t want them to be either.

So here’s what’s been going on as of late. Mike and I joined People’s Church in Franklin, Tennessee. It is awesome and a sister church of Willow Creek in South Barrington, Illinois that we loved as well, and our best friends are members of, as well as the husband is an employee of. It is huge; however, it is such a wonderful family oriented church that we just love it. The boys have an awesome teacher, and they see him twice a week for several hours.

At People’s Church we have also joined Celebrate Recovery (http://www.celebraterecovery.com.au/). I was molested as a child, and have issues with control, perfectionism, and I am an emotional eater. When we were introduced to this program in the Discovery class I thought, naw, that’s not me, because it is a twelve step program like AA. However, this particular program is for those that have had any issue that’s impeded their ability to live a full life. And I thought, Oh Lord, that’s me. We’ve attended three times. I am so incredibly excited at the prospect of feeling good about myself. Who is Angie? Who is Angie past the pain that has enabled my over eating for years? We’ve all got an issue, no matter how big or small, and in my mind’s eye my problems were pretty small and insignificant. But you see when we do that to our selves we make ourselves insignificant. I own my hang-ups, and I cannot wait to hang them up and walk away. And I am also frightened at how painful this process is going to be.

I hope that y’all are having an awesome season in your lives! Remember one thing; if you’re walking a painful walk right now, you’re not alone. Tomorrow is a new day, it may be just as painful, but it is another day. Give yourself, your problems, your worries, your hang-ups to God, hand them over and find time to speak to Him. He wants to spend time with you. He adores you, and awaits the time that you reach out to Him. Allow Him into your day, and I guarantee, it won’t change instantly, but your day will, gradually get brighter, gradually get lighter, and will gradually become more beautiful with every breath you take.

Two verses I’d written Tuesday morning for a bible study were Joshua 1:9 “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” And Psalm 46:1 “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” I keep trying to memorize a passage that speaks to me, and I really have a hard time with that. I don’t know why! I do love Psalm 46:1, it’s easy, it’s to the point, and it gives me hope and peace. As I’d explained to the ladies that I sit with at this bible study (A Woman After God’s Own Heart by Elizabeth George), and as they also agreed with and expounded on, our Lord is a personable Lord. He speaks to us the only way we can hear Him, in plain speak that we, each and every one of us, can personally understand. My Lord says to me, “Duh! You just got that? I’ve been saying that for centuries, and you just got that?! Dude, cool!” (mental high five and a peace sign :D) Now, I understand that this may insult some; however, the bottom line of it all is I believe in the Lord, He is my Father. As we change how we handle each of our earthly children, He handles us with how He knows we’ll get Him.

God Bless you, you are worth it, and I love that you might take the chance to speak to your Father today… so what’s stopping you? Mute the TV, put the computer on sleep mode, and take five minutes to say hello to Him. KISS. Keep It Simple Silly! I've decided to change that last word. Do you know what it was? The word was Stupid. The first time I heard this saying I thought it was awesome. But as of just the last few days I've realized that I was perpetuating a bad habit, I was calling myself, and anyone I shared this saying with, stupid. No more! ♥

For The First Time, It's About Me...

In reading different blogs and columns, I’ve noticed that instead of showing humor in one’s life, some try to embarrass another. In writing a blog, particularly my blog, I’m trying to weed through feelings and thoughts to get to the meat of an issue, to get to the bottom of me. In my mid-twenties it was “cool” to be one of the damaged – to have had a horrible childhood – “oh I was so abused!” Yet, in looking back, my parents were tough on me, no doubt, yet, I’ve gotta tell ya, they did me a huge favor. I can survive in this world where everyone seems to feel better if they hurt the one that is standing next to them. In America we are so sheltered. Yes, there is abuse, my mom was abused by her adoptive parents, my father was abused by being neglected and ignored. We all have a story. But in America we haven’t a clue what someone else goes through in another country, let alone our own. I’ve decided it is time to stop the poor me train, fire the conductor, and hand the tracks over to someone who really needs to get somewhere. I’m a good, sweet, strong, kind, God-fearing woman that has had some hard knocks. I chose to look up from here on out, I chose to see the good, instead of always looking at the bad. I chose Jesus Christ over all else, and I thank the Lord for sending His Son in my stead. And if this offends, or makes anyone uncomfortable, then look up, perhaps you’ll start to see what’s affecting (or infecting!?) me! ♥

Romans 10:9-10 “…because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.”

Which brings me to my previous blog concerning what happened with my mom’s voice mail message, I’d inadvertently caused my cousin to tell me that I was wrong about how I felt when my mom’s voice mail was erased. Here’s the thing for anyone reading a blog, to tell the writer they’re wrong about their feelings is the very definition of wrong. It was what I felt when my mother’s voice mail was erased. It happened, it is over, as I’d also stated, when I hear my voice in a voice mail to my husband, I hear my mom, because we had the same voice. And, in speaking with my father after the fact about my blog, and what had occurred, he only verified that fact, because sometimes it is hard for my dad to talk to me, he also hears my mom’s voice. The lovely thing about me is anger leaves me almost as quickly as it occurs, forgiveness is golden, and I love to receive it as much as I like to give it. It was over – it was done. And I refuse to walk down the path of anger with this person. The voice mail not only helped me while we had it, it gave my father solace to call and “talk” to my mom because they’d known one another their entire lives – my mother was my dad’s friend, lover, wife, mother of his children, his barometer to read a situation, she was my dad’s everything -they’d been married 41 years, after having known one another from the time she was 12 and he was 17, and they’d married on my mom’s sixteenth birthday. To write to me and say how wrong I was for my feelings just solidifies how selfish and narrow minded we can become when we make it about ourselves and not what it was intended to be – about someone else. For once in her life it was about me, and it was a profound witness to recognize that losing something so important was alright, it was all OK. This person made it clear that I was right, and sometimes doing the right thing is not the popular thing. It is the same as not being liked by your children, sometimes your children will hate you, but one day they’ll get it, and that is when the wait will have been worth it. And the wait was worth it. I thank my cousin for doing this for me. Because I forgave her within hours of this happening, I’d written what was the point of broaching this topic with her, to what end? I’ll see my mom again, she’s with me, within me, I see her in my children, and I see her in me. She’s not dead; she’d been promoted and is waiting for her family to join her. Subject closed!

Isaiah 43:25-26 "I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more. Review the past for me, let us argue the matter together; state the case for your innocence."

When we moved, I’d decided that the boys would not have televisions or games in their rooms. They would have their toy chest, but nothing electronic. And when we got here after a ten hour drive from Chicago, we found that my husband had installed cable in not only the living room, but also in all three bedrooms upstairs. To say that I nearly decided to be lazy and let it go is an understatement! How I wanted to let this slide and say, 'ah what the heck, we’ll have quiet time now and again.' But that’s not the point. Being a mommy, I’ve figured out after some trial and error, it is not about me, it’s about them. And, I tell ya, there are days that I so wish I could just stomp my feet and say it’s about me, it’s about me!! Alas, after some procrastination, huffing and puffing, and then downright threatening we removed and returned the cable boxes in the two other bedrooms. It’s been nearly 2 solid months and the boys have been sleeping through the night, and even going so far as to get up at 6 am by themselves (YES! By themselves!) to get dressed, eat, and have themselves ready for school. Saturday mornings are a bit tougher, because Mike and I would love to sleep in, but what we try to do is say how lovely it is to have a full Saturday together as a family – please note I stated we try to say that! ;)

Hebrews 6 “Then you would never be lazy. You would be following the example of those who had faith and were patient until God kept his promise to them."

Who else has children that love zombies? What is it about zombies? Zombieland is one of my family’s favorite movies. And believe you me, I see the conflict with mentioning this alongside a blog that professes my love for Jesus Christ – yet there’s got to be another parent out there with this going on in their home! As of late, the last couple of weeks, I’ve cut the boys off of playstation, because Call Of Duty, or COD as it is called, has levels with zombies in it. We first tried a couple of times a week, but being children they not only argued with one another constantly, they abused the time given to them, whining when I asked that it be turned off. Now, we’re designating playstation for Saturdays, in one hour increments. This past Saturday the weather was unbelievably awesome - I could not justify their staying in doors to play playstation while we’d waited for this kind of weather. We have a rainbow swing set, as does nearly every neighbor on our block. I am happy to say that our boys were outside nearly all day using their swing set, and that they were the only children outdoors doing so! This, I know will be a constant negotiation. In raising our children, the one thing I wanted to change was to make them more accountable for their outcome – if they are not treated with respect, how will they show respect to others?

2 Kings 2:23-24 “From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some boys came out of the town and jeered at him. “Get out of here, baldy!” they said. “Get out of here, baldy!” He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the Lord. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the boys.”

I’m trying to clear the noise from my head, I’ve got some bible studying to do for a study tomorrow; A Woman After God’s Own Heart by Elizabeth George. Wednesday’s I’m also in a bible study Stepping Up: A Journey Through the Psalms of Ascent by Beth Moore. There’s a request Beth makes that was difficult for me. She asks that we all, for the next six weeks, lie face down on the floor and say whatever comes to mind as we speak to God. She said to keep it simple, as she usually says to God, I love you, I adore you, thank you for loving me, please forgive me for my sins, and help me through my day. I realized, after doing this a few times, what my hang up was. I was lowering myself, placing my face to the ground. As girls, particularly in America, our mother’s demand that we stand tall, that we are not subordinate to anyone. We are not to accept the status quo, we were to wear the pants and make a name for ourselves. I like being a girl, and I particularly like being a girl that asks her husband for help. How dare I! I am setting the woman’s movement back by a century! But, I’m working on it, allowing myself to realize that Christ died for me, lowering my face to the ground is the very least I can do for Him, and His gift to me. I felt silly lying face down, hoping no one in our home would walk in on me. The only one that did, that first day, was our cat, Jazzman, she walked up and down my back. So, I not only honored my Lord, but I got a back rub to boot! Dennis did walk in on me Saturday morning and wondered what was going on, so I explained to him what I was doing, and asked that he give me a couple of minutes, once I was done, I’d call him back in. We chatted about it a bit, and that was that. If, and Lord, I pray that this if becomes a definite, if I am able to give my children the tools to honor God, to honor the gift that Jesus Christ gave to all of us, then I’d have done something so right.

2 Chronicles 7:3 “When all the Israelites saw the fire coming down and the glory of the Lord above the temple, they knelt on the pavement with their faces to the ground, and they worshiped and gave thanks to the Lord, saying, ‘He is good; His love endures forever.’“

I’ve been teased by friends, because my children and I talk about death, it is inevitable that one day they will bury mom and dad. We do laugh uproariously sometimes because Mike and I will then ask that they wait until we are dead! And yes, this is gruesome, and it is dark, but it needs to be spoken of, wishes, hopes, dreams, fears, they need to be aired. If children cannot discuss it with their parents, who can they discuss it with? I do not want my children to grieve beyond missing our voices; I do not want them to lose precious time wishing something had been different. I want them to live their lives to the fullest, to use this wondrous life as the adventure it was meant to be. Walking with Christ is but icing on the cake!

Psalm 30:5 "weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning."

Read all of Psalm 30, it is a wonderful Psalm :)

God’s Blessings to everyone today that may read this. Have a wonderful Valentine’s Day. Remember, boys, that most girls love the small gestures. Just remembering with a rose, a card, a nice dinner, that is more than enough, it is that we meant enough to you that means so very much. We will stand beside you forever if you remember to treat us with love; we will then respect the man that you are ♥

1 John 4:19 "We love because He first loved us."

Am I Martha or Mary? Why can't I be Esther?

This week I’ve had similar messages repeated a few times. The two that stand out the most are the Martha and Mary story and the Lord asking that I see His face during the day. The Martha and Mary story is pivotal for every woman. The bottom line of it is this: Martha heard that Jesus would be visiting and she went to work in the kitchen preparing a feast for all that would be there. Mary sat at Jesus’ feet listening to Him preach. Martha was peeved and approached Jesus and asked that He ask Mary to get up and help her, there was a lot to do and she felt that Mary was leaving her to do all of the work. Jesus then told Martha that Mary was doing the right thing.

Now, the first thought that goes through my mind is who will prepare the feast then? And does that mean slacking off is alright? And how so? I grew up that hard work was awarded. Not necessarily with anything significant save for the paycheck that I made, and the ability to pay my way, having a bit left over for something fun. That was why we worked, to pave our way in this world. But then what occurred to me was this; it’s not necessarily that he’s telling Martha to be a slacker, or that he’s saying that we should slack off on doing a job that needs to be done. He’s saying that when you feel something of importance is being spoken to you, sit, listen, and take it all in.

Actually hearing the sermon at church can be difficult. There’s so much white noise going on in our heads. How will I pay that bill this paycheck? Is my dad OK with the snow storm? Are the kids alright, are they doing well in school? My husband lied to me again about something really insignificant, but when is it that he’ll lie to me about something really important? When is enough enough, and how do I convey that without sounding horrible? How do I tell the one I love the most I do not trust him? How do I get through this? The noise is really loud, and sometimes it is hard to hear that the Lord just wants me to trust Him. He is there through it all. Just give Him my worries. So I strive every single day to be Mary. To put my worries down and sit at His feet.

Seeing His face is also difficult because there is a lot of ugliness in this world. Seems most days it is the devils stomping grounds, and it is difficult to filter all of that, trying to see God’s face in it all. However, what I have been trying to do is this: I find a bright spot in the midst of wherever I might be. In traffic it is usually a song that I cling to because I am a NASCAR race car driver that has not been discovered yet, and no one else knows how to drive!

While trying to teach my children what to do, such as putting their clothes away properly, I remember how I was as a child, and how in twenty years time they’ll be very responsible men and I need to soak every single moment I have with them (even the annoying ones!) up with my eyes, my ears, my hands, my arms (with hugs) and with my words. Kind words are easy when you’re calm. Not so much when you’re irritated at having to say the same thing over and over and over again. They become like clanging gongs to our children. And the Lord knows I do not want to be a clanging gong, I want to be a lilting lullaby that my children flock to. I fear that I’m a lilting gong that my children often giggle at!

There are so many opportunities to see His face, but I get lazy and I use bad language and I lose my patience. I do not want to be lazy, and I do not want to use bad language. There’s really no need, and it really is quite ugly. Please pray for me that I use my inner filter and not use bad language, most especially around my children, but also because God gave me a beautiful life, please pray that I honor Him in this life with beautiful words. Thank you, I truly want to choose my words more wisely.

Today the boys are coming home early. We are expecting a snow storm, so school’s been let out early. It put a wrench in the works for some of the mom’s I’d been at bible study with. Bible study with women is an interesting thing. When I was younger I really didn’t see the point. I know that sounds awful! Though I grew up a Christian, I was not born loving Christ as I do today. I have walked a walk that I’m sure most of us have, there are some very dark moments, and there are some things that I would never want anyone to know, we all have something, at least one thing that we would be mortified for anyone else to know. And my walk with Christ has been a very long walk. We ladies chuckled about that today in bible study, we didn’t roll out of bed and say YAY! I Love Christ! No. It has been a painful journey.

Each of our journeys is personal. Most begin with a curiosity. Most have at least one experience of intense pain. Most have a moment of wondrous joy that is unexplainable, but if you were asked to explain it you’d simply smile, your eyes would become moist and you’d just shake your head and say “you’ll never understand, it’s just… it’s just He was there. He was there.” Yet all of us do get it, from one degree to another. And once you’ve had it you can never un-have it!

And that is where witnessing comes into play. That is when someone wants to broach the subject of God with you. It’s not religion. Religion is the human way of trying to explain God. Religion has done a lot of damage to God. We were all asked today what stops us from having a Hot Heart for Christ. Mine is the fear of appearing to be a fool. I no longer fear submission, Mike and I have had to submit so much that we thank Him for walking with us through it all. With that said, I am so very careful to not say that with pride, that we’ve submitted. Life is what it is. My fear of submission was subdued by the fact that I realized Christ was there through everything. But being viewed as a fool? I’ve been made a fool of, and though I smile through most things, it cuts to the quick. It is so painful. And, because I smile no one knows how hurt I am. I don’t want to be made a fool of in His name.

This week so many of my friends have opened their hearts, allowing me to see their sadness. Opening their old wounds to show what caused them the biggest heartache. It seems we’re all growing as of late. We’re all letting old wounds show because we want to be healed. We want to let that old pain go, to grow from it, and to become stronger from it. Sometimes we just want to understand ourselves better through the pain. To understand that we are not alone, every one of us has a pain that has eaten away at us. Little by little we’ll let the pain of the past go, through friendship, through love, but most importantly through the understanding that Christ walked the journey with you. We were not alone. When Christ walked the earth He knew pain, both emotional and physical. He took our sins upon Himself, He died for us that we may live. That we may live in His presence once our witnessing is done on this earthly plain. Life is so very good. And living it with you makes it that much sweeter! ♥

God Bless your day, and God Bless you!

A phenomenal friend

This is a friend's blog, and she is phenomenal. She gave me such words of wisdom and comfort when I left home, that they will be forever etched on my heart. I'm honored to have met her.

http://barefootmel.com/?p=146

Family Matters

The greatest thing about starting a new day is that it is indeed a new day.

I recently moved with my husband and two children during our Christmas break from school in 2010. I shouldn’t have been surprised; I’ve been begging God to give me an adventure. Be careful what you ask for! The boys are very happy, and like all parents I weigh my happiness by their happiness. If they are happy, then so am I.

I’ve moved one other time in my life, which was when I was single and transferred with the hotel I worked for to Colorado Springs. Colorado is absolutely breathtaking! But it is also very lonely when the stardust has left your eyes and you’re doing nothing but working, home, working, home, working, home. Everyone can attest to that – yet I couldn’t deal – I moved back to my hometown, and much to my mother’s credit (at the time I was furious!) she refused to let me move back into my old room. I think she knew I’d never leave if she allowed that to happen. Sometimes as moms we have horrible decisions to make. And sometimes those decisions are unexplainable and our children will hate us for a time. But our children will understand. They’ll get it. The hard part is we might never see the light dawn; you might already be gone from this earthly plain.

This move was out of the blue and completely unexpected, but much hoped for. I just wish I had my best friends in my luggage! I didn’t expect the abrupt unhappiness I felt. I was not prepared for how much I would miss my mom. She is now gone, she passed ten years ago a week before Thanksgiving when my eldest was four months of age. But I used to call the voice mail on my dad’s phone to listen to her. I’d wanted to record that message, but my cousin erased my mother's voice mail when she called the phone company to delete everything but the phone itself to help my father during an issue we were dealing with as a family. That is a long story, albeit my mother’s voice was erased and my cousin will never know what she did – sometimes I’ll catch a voice mail from myself to my husband and I hear my mom’s voice in my won. It’s soothing, but like an ice cream cone while on a diet, it merely makes me hungrier for my mom. A vicious cycle. I’ve thought of letting my cousin know, but to what end? And, no, she won’t read this blog. I’m not even on her radar; it’s been made pretty clear that I don’t qualify. I'm pretty sure she'd say something like "I was doing something to help your father." And yet, my husband was taking care of it, just not in the way other family members thought he should. Family... everyone gets that, you need but say one word... Family.

Only those who’ve lost a parent or the person that was most pivotal in their lives understands this pain. If you’ve ever almost drown, you know the physical hurt. If you’ve ever left home and said goodbye, you know the emotional. Now put the two together, but you can never see that person ever again, and you’ve got it. No emails. No Skype. No text. Nothing. Your memories are wonderful, but sometimes you can put that person on pedestal for a time, and then have them get knocked off of it for whatever reason. And add to that no one wants to speak of the dead. There are days I’ve wanted to scream because it is as if my mother never existed. Talk of someone’s life, they did live. And their life is not the day that they died. It is the life that they lived up until the moment they died. And that too is a wondrous blessing, most especially if you believe in Heaven, and I do. My mother is with our Lord, she is with her children that passed before she did, she is with all those that she mourned, and now she is waiting for me, for my father, for my children. And so on…

For those crying and shaking your head, utterly furious with me right now, thinking it is not that easy. No, it is not. It takes quite a bit of time. It took me eight years, a solid eight years to see the brightness of my life again. And, unfortunately I haven’t got a great story to share. It just happened. One day I realized that I was breathing again, not drowning. ‘I was missing my mom,’ but it wasn’t a yearning, needing, bleeding, I cannot live without you missing her, it was I’ll see you again, mom, missing. I know where you are. And I do know that it does get better. Just don’t stop living while you’re healing. Live for the one lost, and the one lost will go on living. Within you.

Sharing on a blog is something I’ve tried before, and haven’t followed through on. I’d like to change that. I’d like to change it for myself and for any readers that might read it. This move has brought to the forefront my mother because this move ripped from me some friends that I became very close to. I’d enmeshed myself with our church, with the boy’s school, with my boy’s friend’s mothers. It was all so comfortable and it was all mine, and I was happy with it all. But I also became complacent. Complacency is ugly if you realize it and continue on down your path with your basket in your hand skipping and fa-la-la-la-di-aaa along not really giving a darn who might be behind you having to deal with your off key singing. And believe you me, I sing off key! Though I believe that if Cher should need backup, I’m there! (I’m sure she won’t be calling! :D )

Now… my boys will be home soon, and as with the telephone there will be no blogging at that point in time. Write me. Tell me what’s up with you (angelineshappyplanet@gmail.com). What are you going through? Remember not a one of us is alone. It’s just sometimes we’re all in survival mode and that can become very selfish, our life preserver only holds one… we don’t want to share!

Long time, no write... looking up

My emotions, my equilibrium, my life seems a bit topsy turvy at the moment. Long story short, my husband and I had planned for his one year contract in Pittsburgh with FedEx through an agency called NSI in Houston, TX with a man named Ron Davis. Contracts were signed, for both the job and a one year lease on an apartment (which has gone to collections). And in early March of 2009 the contract was cancelled. Because it crossed state lines, there is nothing my husband I can do to rectify the situation, except look up.

I look up into the sky and speak with God, I beg of Him to give to Mr. Davis what Mr. Davis has given us. I try to look up and let it go because God can punish Ron Davis so much better than I ever could. I look up and pray that my husband keep his strength as he is now away from home and I miss him so much at times that I cannot breathe. I look up and I pray that I not lose my patience with my boys, because though I am married, I feel like a single mother, and it's not fun, not fun in the least. I look up and I thank God for the challenges he has given my husband and I, because without them I'd not have grown. I look up and I beg God to give us a break, I beg Him to please hear me, please help me to save our home... because foreclosure is set for October 29, 2009. I look up and I thank God for my health, for my boys health, for my husband's health.... I look up and I see my God in everything, and sometimes I am very angry, but most times I am humbled.

We've learned so much, my husband and I, we've learned that a tiny bit is so much better than nothing. We've learned that we can go without, because the "things" we wanted so much cannot feed our boys. We've learned that we're made of stronger stuff than we ever knew, and we learned our relationship is strong. We've come back to one another during a life-changing, incredibly tough time in our lives, and we've realized, thank God, that we love one another!

So, what to do? Roll over and let the "system" run over us? Hell no! We will save our home. We will save our (considered old) autos. We will fix our credit - might take a few years, but we'll do it!

Too much is banging about in my head - cannot blog sufficiently today - suffice it to say when I write again, it will be to say we won, and we've learned.

God's Blessings to all, much love to my friends and family going through tough times, and those who are hurting. Though the planet seems smaller because we can communicate via webcams, email, telephone, cell phone, IM's, text message, what have you, it's gotten to be a much colder place, hasn't it? Seems no one is really listening. The next time you feel sad, alone, like you're not being heard, take that moment to really hear someone else. It may just save their life, and may make you realize what you've been missing out on.... just a thought :)

Angie

A lot of women do it....

So what's the problem? I'm really p'oed right now - and I can't quite put my finger on it. My hubby's got a contract that he starts on Monday the 8th of June (thank GOD), my boys are healthy, my hubby and I are healthy... it's summer. So WTF? Please excuse my expletives, I'd like to keep this a safe place to post, to chat - if it ever gets that big - and a good place for mom's that are trying to find themselves after their children have returned to school. I guess that's what my biggest gripe is right now - me. I let myself get fat folks. There's no and, ifs, or buts about it - I let myself get fat. My mother was fat, my youngest son is fat - he's only 4 so I'm starting now by teaching them both how to take care of themselves, like my mother never did. She used to fry up shrimp, pork chops, and steaks at 2 o'clock in the morning. That was normal to me. That was what I grew up to know as normal. And that is so far off of the freaking mark, it's disgusting.

Now, yes, my beginnings weren't optimum, they could've been better no doubt. However, I was much loved. And I miss that love - and that's where the food came in - to fill that hole that my mother left when she died. My mom was adopted and abused from the age of 6 years old. She was born in Chicago to immigrants, my grandpa was from Hamburg, Germany, and my grandmother was from County Cork, Ireland. Their names were Theodore Kraack and Margaret Morton; there was 28 years difference in their ages. Grandpa died July 4, 1949 on Mozart Street in Chicago, IL at the age of 69. Prior to immigrating to America he worked for Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey Circus before the Barnum & Bailey Circus was added on. He was an acrobat. Much less is known of my grandmother, except that she was eccentric and had a break down after my grandfather died, she left all of the children, 5 in all, to fend for themselves and disappeared for a time. My mom never saw her mother past the age of 6, and that left a deep scar with her, which led to her life of yo-yo dieting and she eventually killed herself with obesity.

I know this sounds harsh, but here's the thing: I am still hurting. I am still yearning for my mom. As time progressed and I grew into a woman, I never left home; I took care of my mother until the age of 28, when I transferred to a job in Colorado Springs, CO. I then moved back home because a minimum wage job really sucks if you know no one in the town that you're living in - especially such a transient town as Colorado Springs - quite a lot of military coming and going, deployment and relocating. It was difficult making friends that lasted. So, I came home. And found my mom much worse off, she'd really let herself go, and something inside me knew it wasn't long that she'd be gone. She did get to see Mike and I married, she met Denny, her first grandchild, but she died 2 weeks after her 57th birthday, and her 41st wedding anniversary. For 13 years I'd become the mother, and that day I lost my mother, my best friend, my child, and the only person on this planet that actually knew me, really knew me. And as time progressed I became more and more angry, more resentful. I didn't experience college like a lot of people get to do; I was taking care of my mom. I didn't experience normal dating, because I was taking care of my mom. I didn't experience a lot "firsts" because I was taking care of my mom. Ever see the movie "The Haunting" with Liam Neeson, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Lili Taylor? Do you remember seeing the scenes with Eleanor, played by Lili, where she would hear her mother banging on the wall, even when her mother was dead? They did a good job of recreating what tricks your mind can play on you. You really do not know who you are. Where you begin and the other person ends. And you feel like a 5th wheel your entire life. Imagine that. Just close your eyes and imagine not knowing how to interact with others because you never really had the chance to figure out who you were.

So there's the back story. It's not a pity party, believe you me, it is not an invite to my waaaa party! I am furious, absolutely freaking furious that I have turned into my mother. It ends. It ends now, and it will not continue. If I have to order a freaking exorcism, I will! I am frankly quite sick and tired of lugging this fat ass around. Do you know how much work this takes to maintain?!! Here's what I have got to do, and it's going to be a bi*%$ of a time: I quit smoking 2 and half years ago, I started when I was 15, so I smoked for 23 odd years. I had to quit because my youngest son cannot be around smoke - my husband still smokes around him and it infuriates me - but we'll conquer that in another therapy session we're calling a blog. When I craved a cigarette, and I cannot tell you how painful a cigarette craving is, unless you've also quit smoking. You literally feel like an animal. You feel your heart beat speed up, you break out with a sweat on your upper lip, and your breath comes in shallow inhalations and exhalations. Whatever these companies put into cigarettes, it is not just plain old fashioned nicotine - you are tweaking, and you are tweaking badly for a cigarette. I survived that. I survived giving up something I loved - because as disgusting a habit it is now to me, it was something I adored and looked forward to doing every single day. I was never a heavy smoker, my average was anywhere from 12 to 15 cigarettes a day, I cut back to 5 to 10 cigarettes when I was pregnant with my boys. Yes, I know - absolutely awful, there's nothing I can do about it now. So no comments from the peanut gallery!

I will approach food in exactly the same fashion. I tried explaining this at an end of year birthday party last Friday, but, alas, as I said, I often feel the 5th wheel; I never got to explain my grand plan, even though I was asked what it was. When I crave food, and in particular after 7 pm, I will breathe through the pain of the craving. If you can make it for 5 minutes, you are golden! Absolutely golden! Did you know that? It only takes 5 freaking minutes to breathe through a craving! I can and will survive my weight gain as well.

Some of the weight gain has been small marital problems, nothing really worth sharing, it's more personal in nature anyway - growing pains, unemployment, and the fear of losing everything you've worked for will stress anyone out. I just turn to food at every stinking opportunity.

OK. I feel better. Must have wanted to get that off of my shoulders and off of my chest. I feel the anger dissipating, and that's a very good feeling. I really do not have anyone that I speak with. My husband tries, but he, like my father, often start giving advice, start lecturing me. And that's just tiresome. I already know what I want and need to do; now I need someone to share this information with. I wish I had a good friend, I have a few nice women that I know, but the history is not there, you know? That long standing girl friend history that you just know this person gets you, understands you before you even finish your sentence. Maybe some day, perhaps a daughter-in-law, the daughter I never had. However, I want to be careful, because I never want to rely on someone, or make that person feel obligated. That starts a chain reaction of resentment and regret. A healthy, happy, honest and well rounded friendship. And guess what, I just got it! Don't you love epiphanies? I need to be my own best friend before I can be a really wonderful friend to another. Well DUH! SHEESH! I'm glad I started this blog! :)

My hubby starts his new contract in Orlando, FL tomorrow morning. He couldn't find work here in Chicago. Chicago's pretty messed up right now, the financial stability is simply not there. It will take years to get it cleaned up, and mainly because Chicago's so darned corrupt from the inside out, that the inside will not turn on their counterparts, because their counterparts have dirt on them, and vice versa. I wouldn't at all mind leaving the state of Illinois, but you have to ask yourself, where is there a large city that is not corrupt? And the answer's nowhere.

Alas, another discussion to pick up on another day... because, blessedly, I am exhausted now. And I cannot tell you how good that feels to write, feel, and know without a doubt; I am tired.

Thank you for "listening." :)

God Bless, Angie