Happy Holidays

I know I said I’d post more frequently, but I’ve had reasons for staying away this time. Regardless, the year is almost out, the holidays are upon us, and I did want to make one more post before the new year.

Where did the year go? Remember when we were kids and time used to just drag on and on forever? Except for summer, of course – that was never long enough. But the older we got, the faster time flew by. Gods above, if it keeps going this fast, by the time I’m “old”, time will have exceeded the speed of light. Who knows? Maybe it will start going backwards!

2018 was a year of growth and change for me. I’ve been challenged with health issues this year, but that’s getting better. Growth has come from learning how to better cope with change in my life, and learning how to better communicate when it comes to my feelings, needs and desires.

I’ve also learned to step away and think before acting; which leads me to my next subject…

After I moved from Dallas this year, I wanted to post more frequently. But it seems my ex-husband has found my blog. He’s commented on my posts – twice. Once, asking me if I wanted my old birth certificate (from before I changed my last name). Now, I could have sworn I still had that in an archived file box; so I don’t know if he’s fishing, trying to find out where I live now, or if he’s serious. In any case, this used to be a blog where I’d talk about what was going on with my kid (who’s not a kid anymore), and my family. Now? Fuck…  I could block him, but that just blocks comments.

Or, I could just let it go.

Yes, it was a horrible thing he put us through back in 2006, but it was over 10 years ago. He can’t hurt my son or me. He’ll never threaten me with a loaded assault rifle again. I’ll never have to deal with cleaning tear gas out of my clothes and everything I own. Ever. Again.

So at the end of this year, this is me trying to let go of a grudge that some still say I have every right to hold onto. I’ve held this grudge close and dear for a long time. It’s helped me get through the years, and it’s helped me heal. It helped me build the walls I needed to hide behind for a while, before I could come out again and start over. But a grudge is nothing more than negative emotions after a while. You relive and remember the painful event over and over, and lick your wounds. At some point you have to let the negativity go before it eats you up.

Letting go doesn’t mean that what he did was “ok”, nor does it mean that all is forgiven and I’m willing to communicate with him. It just means I have better things to spend my energy on.

My message for the holidays is that no matter how old we are, we never stop learning and we never stop growing. As much bullshit that’s gone on in this world this year, and the health issues I’ve dealt with, I still have to say I’m happy with the way this year has ended for me. I have a loving husband and a great son, and a happy family. Family is so important, whether blood or chosen.

Happy Holidays, one and all. Be safe, be happy, and be loved.

Moving – The Full Story

I left off with “I hate moving!” You should know what’s behind that story.

In January of this year, I moved a few hours north. Not out of state, but a bit of a drive. I was closer to friends and family that I rarely see, and I thought this would make me happy after all that time of being at the bottom of the dark pit.

I discovered a few things when I got up there, though:

  • My health took a serious nose dive
  • Friends and family all have things going on, just like everyone else.
    • We don’t see each other nearly as often as we used to
    • We see each other “online”
  • I kinda’ missed my husband…. Yeah…. I missed him. The good and the bad. Everything.

grass_is_greener

The part about all of us having our own lives was easy to understand. We grow, life happens, we all change, and we didn’t live as close together as we used to, either. They may call me Duch, but I’ll admit it isn’t all about me, here. But, that’s just between you me, ok? I got a reputation to protect.

secret

But, my health…. Yeah….. my health was getting really bad. I had to move back. I wasn’t happy about it. I hate moving. But it had to be done. We set the date for the beginning of August.

BUT, the best laid plans….

I’m not going to bad mouth my previous apartment complex. The manager was very helpful in trying to make things right when they went drastically wrong that last week I was there. However, as with any business, there is always room for improvement. I will say that he bent over backwards to make the best of a bad situation, especially given my health issues. Let’s just say mold is a horrible thing. My health was bad enough; I didn’t want to add anything else to the list off problems. All this caused me to step up the move date unexpectedly by about 2-3 weeks. No stress here!

stress raccoon

I’m at my husband’s now. Remodeling is almost done. Mount Boxmore is in the front room, and I’m trying to find a place for my stuff. Things will gradually fall back into place and normal will happen again.

So…. This is the lengthy version of “I Hate Moving”. You’ll see more from me when Mercury is out of retrograde. Damn, this was hard to write.

Peace, everyone!

Today is the big day

Today is the big day. I leave this morning for Austin, TX, to take part in my first protest march tomorrow.

Yes, I’m 50 years old and I’ve never done this before. I’ve bitched, I’ve ranted, I’ve donated, But I’ve never stood up with anyone for a cause I believed in so passionately. Tomorrow, with my best friend and so many other women, I will do just that.

Today, many Americans will see a dangerous narcissist sworn into office. A bully. A bad example for our children. Someone who has disparaged and insulted minorities, the disabled, and women.

Someone who has already begun to strip away our rights, bit by bit.

Someone who wants to take us back to those “good old days”, when women stayed home and everyone “knew their place” in society.

We stand tomorrow. We’re having a peaceful protest tomorrow in Austin. We march for our rights… for your rights.

WE MARCH!!

womens-march-atx

 

The Long Climb

Sometimes, we find it difficult to write. Whether it is on our blogs, Facebook, or other means of social media. Some call it “writers block”, but sometimes, it’s just everyday events that just get in the way. Emotional garbage just blocks up the creative flow.

Sometimes, the garbage is so packed in there that it blocks more than creativity… it blocks our need to express ourselves, in general.

Good things happen and we want to say something, but we don’t know how to get past the emotional blockage.

Crappy things happen, and we want to say something, but the words just won’t come.

Horrible events occur, and we try to open our mouths, but we know if we break through that dam of emotional garbage, a river is going to flow and it’s going to be out of control. No one will understand where this raging flood came from.

So it’s just easier to keep things in, keep quiet, and maybe even disappear for a while.

Until you end up here.

pit

The journey out isn’t easy. It’s a long climb. When you realize you’ve isolated yourself, sometimes those voices in your head tell you it’s too late to reach out. It’s a tough battle, fighting those voices, especially when your worst fear is rejection.

It’s a hard climb. Your hands are as raw as your emotions, and the journey up is exhausting. Sometimes you slip, just as you think you’re making so much progress and you think you’re going to get out.

You’ll have moments when you want to let go of that wall and fall all the way back to the bottom, just because you’re having a bad day on your journey and you’re losing hope.

But you keep going. You rest, you breathe, and you start again. It’s a long fucking climb, and that pit is deep. But eventually …. someday….

The pit is always there, but I know where it is now. If I fall in, I know where the good rocks are in the wall. I know how to get out.

Rites of Passage

We all have them at different points of our lives. As parents, we watch our children go through them as they grow.

Pre-K and Kindergarten Graduation.
The First Day of School.
Puberty.
High School.

Yesterday, we celebrated another rite of passage with our son:

The Big Day

 

High School Graduation

I don’t know who’s happier for school to be over – the boy, or me. But at the same time, I got all weepy yesterday. Gods! My kid is a high school graduate now! I’m not ready for this; how on earth can he be ready??? It’s not time yet. He can’t be 18.

Don’t get me wrong; I know this has to happen. But where does the time go? You mothers out there know exactly what I’m talking about. I still remember that little boy who graduated Pre-K, back in 2003. And look at him now!

 

Then and Now

 

For those who haven’t reached this milestone yet, here’s my unsolicited perspective from my experience. There are times you share the joy of your kid’s experiences, and there are times you may butt heads over grades, and perhaps late homework. Keep going to bat for your kid. STAY INVOLVED and talk to the teachers. Fight for your kid’s education, because the teachers are so busy they can’t fight for everyone. They are so relieved when the parents get involved, even when they disagree.

Is your kid not doing well in class? Is this sudden or a trend? Talk to your kid and find out why. Grounding and restrictions isn’t the way to resolve this problem, as it usually stems from external problems, physiological issues, depression, or in some cases, undiagnosed learning disorders. Work with your kid on study habits. Help them find alternatives that work if the standard skills don’t. Different people have different learning styles.

When things aren’t working, find a good friend (or two), who can stand in as a tutor for your kid. Your kid knows this person and relates to them well, and you know them. They’re friends of the family, so the relationship is already there. We couldn’t have done this without some of our close friends that we consider family. 🙂

 

Rite Of Passage

 

When it’s all said and done, your kid(s) will graduate, too, and you’ll feel as though you’ve gone through your own rite of passage as a parent. Perhaps we do. Because it’s the beginning of another phase of our kids lives, and we know they’re going to fly the nest. We have to let them go, and thus, begin the next phase of our own.

 

 

Eighteen

I’ve been trying to make the annual birthday post all day today but it just won’t flow. Maybe because I just don’t want to come to terms with the fact that my kid is 18.

HOLY FUCK!!! MY KID IS 18!!!!

No flowery, motherly poetry here. He’s 18!!!

Did you know… my kid is going to vote in the next election??? Oh holy christ, someone hand me a beer.

This is for you, dude. Happy Birthday.

 

Love,

Mom

Miss you already, my Goober boy….

My son made a gruesome discovery today while I was away from the house. Bagheera, one of our kitties, was hit by a car. We are heartbroken at the sudden loss of our Bagheera, whom we affectionately called our “Goober Kitty”. He was with us for over 11 years, and lived a long and happy life, but that doesn’t make this any easier.

Goober was the only cat I ever had who talked to his reflection in the water dish. He was so worried about that cat, and he tried to set it free on more than one occasion.

He would sit outside my office window and wonder why I couldn’t pet him.

PetMeMom

But he was such a love… He wouldn’t just rub up against you; he would push his head up to you and hold it there. I never had a cat that would “headbutt” for pettins’ rather than rub his head to the side like other cats do.

When he purred, he “chuffed” like big cats do.

He was a talkative cat. I could ask him, “Who’s my goober kitty,” and he’d answer me.

He called me, “Mooommm”; quite loudly, I might add, especially when he would get lost inside the house. Not that our house was large enough to get lost in… he would love on you in one room, walk to another room, and forget where you were.

He was a beautiful Bengal boy… and his family tree had no branches. If I could have made him a kitty banjo I would have.

And I loved him with all my heart.

Bagheera Kitty   March 2004 – June 2015