How not to kill ants...tattletales, and 3 wishes

AHHH....naptime. peace and quiet for at least a couple of minutes. I would love to take a nap too - but then nothing would get done.

If you come to my house, and you look around at the papers that are laying around, you would probably find one or two words just written on the paper, or just random thoughts. Same thing with my computer, if you were to check out my computer, you would find all sorts of notepad files with nothing more than just a couple of words that make no sense. For instance, I have a paper that says killing ants on it, and on my computer I have a file titled shoes with wheels. Those random thoughts and words that I scribble or save are all for you guys. They are things that happen in my life that I think is funny or worth mentioning and I scribble down keywords so that I can remember what it is that I thought was funny later. Although there are times that I come across these papers and look at what is written and have no clue what it is about. That to me is even funnier. Kind of like putting something away so you don't lose it, then forget where you put it - so it gets lost anyway. I do that all the time. If I just leave it where ever I threw it down, I cuold find it 10 years later, but if I put it away, I might as well say good bye to it. This blog is going to be taken from some of those peices of paper, and notepad files.

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This summer we have ants. Now this is nothing new, as each summer we get ants, but usually it is the little ants, and no to many. This year we have the little ants, and then we have the big black outdoor ants as well. And lots of them. And because I don't write down thoughts such as "call the rental office and tell them to come kill these ants" I forget to call them until like 11PM which is when I have a chance to sit down and actually think. But alas the rental office is closed at eleven, and my mental note that I make falls out through an ear in the middle of the night and runs away. Well my kids - some of them hate the ants, while others love them. Johan loves them. He tries to chase them down and squish them, where Andre and Jordan ahte them and try to kill them, and try to get Mickey and Isa to kill them too. Jolani, the only thing she cares about is that there are no ants in her formula. So Andre, being the smart child that he is, keeps coming up with ways to kill these ants. Unfortunately, he shares these ways with his little sisters too. One way is to take the spray bottle of Pine-Sol (lemon fresh) and spray the ants. Not just once, but at least 20 times per ant. So I will be in my room folding clothes, or changing Jolani and start smelling lemons, and I know that one of those three have gotten ahold of the spray and are "killing ants". Yet that doesn't kill any ants, it just makes them smell lemony. Another one of Andre's inventions is the soap method. A couple of times I have come into the kitchen and have found a huge puddle of soap in the middle of the counter. That is Andre, drying to drown the ants in soap (orange blosson Ajax if you care). I have told him a bunch of times not to waste the soap like that - I buy the huge bottles, and in the past week he has used 1/2 of the bottle trying to kill ants. Thank God that the soap is out of Mickeys reach on the counter. Well I came in this morning determined to clean the kitchen real well, so that I could call the rental office to complain about the ants, and I was wiping down the counters and they were making all of these bubbles. Andre, it seems, had decided to take the soap and not make puddles, but smear a layer of soap over the entire countertop and sink area this morning in hopes of keeping the ants away. It took me a good half an hour or wiping down the counters before I stopped making bubbles and was able to wipe them away. By the way, none of these options worked on killing the ants.

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Tuesday was the kids second day back to school, and Andre's second day in middle school. He is so stressed about it, it isn't funny. Ok it is a little bit funny, because I am telling you guys. Now I remember back to middle school and remember having the same worries as he is having now, and I am trying to tell him that after a couple of weeks, everything is fine. But I am just his mother what do I know.

On Monday he was supposed to get his locker, well his lock wouldn't open on his locker. So Tuesday they gave him a new locker that opened, but he has a hard time getting it open. However it is the lock you know, not him not knowing how to open a lock like that (this is his first time having a locker and using a combination lock). And to top it off, he is so worried about making it to his classes on time. He gets two minutes to get to class between classes, and he swears it isn;t long enough. I told him, starting out, I know it doesn't feel like it is enough time to get between classes but once you get to know where you are going, it is more than enough time. But no, he doesn't believe me. He even came in last night and asked me to buy him some tennis shoes with the wheels in them so that he could be sure to make it to class on time. But the funniest part about this whole 6th grade experience so far is this... Everything that has gone wrong for him so far - in school and out - is all due to the fact that they only have two minutes between classes, and his locker is hard to open. Tuesday night that is all I heard. And not once, not twice, but three times when him and his sister were arguing, that was his response. Do you know how hard it was for me not to laugh at him outloud when I heard Jordan say "Andre when you pee on the seat, please clean it up. I don't like o go in and have to clean up yoour pee" and then his answer is "But Jordan you don't understand, I only have two minutes to get to my next class and I have a hard time opening my locker" I told him that that excuse doesn't work for anything anymore - he has used up his alloted times for using that as an excuse.

Another thing about middle school this year. The kids all get an agenda pad - which is basically a spiral notebook/day planner type of thing to write down their homework and what not. Well that is their hall pass too. If they have to go anywhere, their teacher has to sign off on it in the book. Is it really a good idea to send 6th grade boys to the bathroom with a spiral notebook? I wonder how long it is until they get peed on. And for 6th grade girls - who are hormonal - I can just see them in the bathroom writing in their book "I HATE so and so" and so forth. What ever happened to the actual hall pass??

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On Monday I had my occupational therapy for my hand, and I took Mickey, my 3 yr old, with me. When I got to the doctors, I put on my splint in the parking lot (I don't wear it anymore, except to the doctors) and we went in. So when they called my name, we went back to the therapy area, and I took it off and the therapist sat down and we were talking, and Mickey says to her "My mommy doesn't like to wear her hand thing. She takes it off all day long. Mommy put the hand thing on outside today" I just looked to the therapist and said that I take it off when I am driving and changing diapers, and gave a little smile. What a tattletale!

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I was watching Dog the Bounty Hunter the other night (I love me some Dog - watching him and Beth, his wife bicker all the time, is like watching me and my husband. I love it) and after he had picked up this girl, he asked her "If I could grant you three wishes, what would those three wishes be". That got me thinking about if I could have three wishes what would I wish for? What about you? What would you wish for? Either leave me a comment with your wishes, or post your own blog with your wishes (then come back and let me know you posted). But if you leave me a comment - I want your REAL wishes, not what you think you should say, but what you really wish for. My wishes are:

1. That my children grow up to be strong, smart, happy, beautiful (inside and out) and very self assured individuals, and that they understand that yes I was strict on them, but it was to help them in their growning and learning about life. I want them to have a heart as well and to be alot like me in that aspect (I can't articulate what it is I am trying to say any better than that.)
2. That my husband and I can have a relationship that does last a lifetime. One that is happy like my grandparents, and his parents.
3. I wish health and love and wellness and happiness to my family and friends (both online friends and in person friends) and even in times of pain and hurt and darkness, that they know that they are loved and thought of and prayed for.

Una Carta para mi Ex

Mi Quierido Tavo,

Oi un cancion hoy, que me hice pensar en ti - en nosotros, y en todo que paso. Cuando te conoci, me enamore de ti tan rapido y tan profundo que no te puedes imaginar. Quise ser tu mujer para siempre. Aunque tuvimos tantos problemas, siempre pense que pudimos superarlos. Pero la realidad no fue asi. Yo encontre a Lale, y vi que hay algo mas de que tuvimos tu y yo. Pero nunca deje a quererte. Tengo un gran carino por ti, y solo deseo el mejor. Fuiste mi primer amor, y siempre vas a tener un pedazo de mi corazon. Siempre te voy a amar - solo hoy esa amor es otro tipo del amor.

Tu tienes tu mujer, y espero que las cosas entre tu y ella son mejor, y por fin puedes ser feliz. Ojala que ella tiene todo que buscas, y espero que puedes areglar los problemas entre ella y tu mama, antes que ella causa mas dano en tu relacion con tu mama. (tu mama es una gran persona, y la quiero tanto, (igual de tu papi - ellos son como mi propio mama y papa) y me duele a oirla llorando porque tu no hablas a ella, y dejaste que tu esposa a causa problemas entre tu y tu mama)

Te digo algo, y voy a ser honesta contigo. Cuando me dijeste que ibas a casar, llore. Senti un gran dolor en mi corazon, senti celosa. Pero no por el razon que creas. Senti una tristeza porque tal vez por fin vas a ser feliz. Tristeza porque por tanto que te ame, no fue yo a quien pude hacerte feliz, y quien pude darte todo que quisiste. Senti tristeza porque quise darte mi vida entera, y por ti, esa no fue suficiente.

Quiero que sepas que cada dia, pido a Dios que te cuide, y que te protege, y que ella te hace feliz, y que tienes una vida llena de felizidad, y amor.

Con tanto carino, y tanto amor
Siempre tu amiga,
yo.

The History of My Future

When I got married to my first husband in 96 I thought it was going to be forever. I was one that thought that love conquered all. But it doesn't. It doesn't conquer you not having money to pay the bills. It doesn't conquer your husband putting friends and everything else above family. It doesn't conquer two "children" (20 yr olds) who don't know how to deal with the problems in a way other than yelling at each other, then ahving make up sex and forgetting the issue. With my first husband we had a lot of passion. I am not talking about sex (although we had a lot of that too). I am talking about passion in the sense of in everything that we did, we gave it our all. We would be the absolute best friends you could ever imagine, all huggy kissy and what not when we got along, but boy when we didn't it was all out screaming and hollaring and what not. It was all passion though. After almost 2 years of all of this passion is when I finally kicked him out for what was supposed to be a 2 month seperation so that he could see and realize what it wa that I did for him, and what he was missing without me, and I could do the same (by the way, not a good way to fix your problems). It didn't work. We spent the next some odd years trying to make things right between us without ever knowing how, nor what was wrong. Plus he was not willing to give up his drinking EVERYDAY with his friends, and that was a condition on my part. During the time that we were split up, I had a friend that I dated. I didn't love him, although at the time I thought I did. I just loved him like a friend, and was grateful for the help that he gave me, and the friendship that he offered me. I remember telling my mother that in my first husband I found all this passion and love, and in my friend, I had my best friend - someone I could count on and talk to, but none of the passion and love, and would I ever find someone who offered it all.

Well in September 01, right after 9-11 I began working at Chicken Out as an assistant manager. In my first week I made friends with most of the kitchen staff - especially Gloria, her brother. I prefered to hang out in the kitchen with the kitchen guys because I just fit in,a nd they liked talking to me because I was a "gringa" who could speak spanish. (although nowhere near as good as I can now.) When I had my two weeks of training in the kitchen it was mostly Gloria and her brother that did my training as Gloria was the Kitchen Manager, and her brother was the assistant manager. Well I really fell for her brother. There was something about his eyes and his smile that just made him do something for me. I know he felt it too because one day we were in the walkin and as I was walking out, he was walking in, and he wanted to kiss me. He didn't, but he wanted too. Now I was still "seeing" my husband - those ties were so hard to break - and I wasn't looking for anyone to date or anything else, but for some reason him wanting to kiss me intrigued me, and I asked him out. He was supposed to pick me up the following night from work (I didn't have a car then) and give me a ride home, and on Saturday we were going out. Wll he came by work, but we finished real early and the manager that closed gave me a ride home so in case he really didn't come and get me, I wouldn't be stranded in the middle of a parking lot at 1:30AM. So the next day I found out that he did come by to pick me up. I felt so bad. But we were still on for Saturday. And Saturday night he came to pick me up, and we went with his cousin (Lale's car had broken down, so his cousin acted as chofer) to a bar had a couple of beers and some dinner. After that, we were together. When I think to back then, and I almost wish we could go back to those times. I was alot younger - mentally - and things just seemed so much easier. On the weekends, my older two would be gone to their fathers house, and I was free to be a young person, not a struggling single mother. He would come over and we would hang out, sleep late on the weekends, go to the flea market, go out to eat, go shopping whatever. It was so nice to be free. I knew he called the mother of his children, and his kids, but for the longest time I thought it was just to check in and what not. I never knew that he was still making plans of the future with her. If I had known before hand, I would never had gone out with him in the first place. By the time I had found out, I had had Mickey and was pregnant with Isa. We had discussed marriage, and I had put into the works for a divorce from my first husband. That was hard for me, to give up what I had known (my first husband) and take that leap of faith to trust Lale. I had to take a hard look and say which is better for me and my children. Which is better for long term - for my forever, and make my choice that way. I chose Lale (which by the way is his nickname, pronounced Lah-Lay). While I was pregnant with Mickey, he had made the decision to go back to Honduras to see his children. It had been almost 4 years of not seeing them grow, not seeing them anything. A couple of weeks later, Suyapa found out about me, and about being pregnant with Mickey she had alot to say about him, and she threatened to take his kids from him. She would hide them, and he would never see them again and so forth if he didn't come back to Honduras RIGHT NOW. That is when he told me about her and how things really were between them. I was so hurt, and I didn't know what to do really. I understood as I had said before about not really cutting all the ties and being confused. I told him to go back and make up his mind about him and her, and about him and I. I would give him one year. When he left Mickey was 6 months old and I was 5 months pregnant with Isa. Gloria and I took him to the airport, and I remember watching him walk to the security, and he didn't look back, and all I did was cry. I hurt so bad. That month, I couldn't eat anything. When I tried I threw up. From month 5 to month 6 of my pregnancy I lost 11 pounds from not eating. I survived off of diet pepsi and a jar of fruit a day, basically. And it took me a week to be able to eat that. I cried myself to sleep everynight, I loved that man (still do) and missed him so much. Mickey was use to waking up at 11:30pm to see him because he would just be getting home from work, and would play with her. After he left she would still get up at 11:30 for her playtime. That broke my heart.

I knew that things there weren't good for him, and that she was causing all sorts of problems with him - not from him telling me, but from his mom, and his father and others. We talked twice a week for an hour or so at a time. I spent $500 a month on long distance each month, plus lord knows how much more on calling cards. I just knew I had to hear his voice. In October he and I talked about me coming down there and us getting married. I was so excited. He choose me. It was finally my turn to be happy. I was 8 months pregnant with Isa, and the doctor gave me less than a week to be gone. I was there for 5 days. The wedding was nice, and coming home, I almost didn't get on the plane. I cried the whole way home on the flight, and it was a while before I could eat again. It was like the first time he left all over again. I didn't have much time to be so upset because in the next four weeks, I had to pack and move everything from my apartment to a bigger one, then I had Isa as well. So this time the seperation issues didn't go as far as the first time. Plus we were married,a nd I knew he choose me. Only he didn't. Not really. He never told her that we got married (his excuse was that he didn't want any more problems where she would take the kids) - although she did find out - and for the remainder of his time in Honduras, he stayed in the same house, supposedly on the couch, but I know better.

After he came back, he was not the same as he was before he went to Honduras. I was so happy to see him, as he was me, but he was so sad. And it was because he had just left his children again, but also because he left her again. He told me that he thought he wanted to go back to Honduras and be with her. That he loved her and was so upset that things didn't work out, and how he wanted to go back and make things work. It about killed me. And I was pregnant with Johan at this point. I told him to go. I told him to walk out the door, go back to Honduras and enjoy life with her and his children there. I also told him that if he did walk out the door, he was not coming back through it. Even if he only made it 3 steps away and changed his mind, once out the door he was not welcome back. As for his children, they would know who he was, and I would send pictures, call on the phone and when I could, I would take them to Honduras to see him. They would see him - but not me. He didn't understand why I would not want to see him again. I tried to explain to him that it would hurt to much. That I loved him enough to let him go back to her if he felt that being abused and treated like crap would make his life great, then go right ahead. In February (he came back in June) when I was 8 months pregnant with Johan, I finally called Suyapa to have a heart to heart with her. Something had been bothering me for a while. I wanted to apologize to her for everything that had happened and let her know that if I had known from the get go how things were, then I never would have gone out with him. My first husband cheated on me, and I know the feeling. I am not the type to do that to someone else. Especially when there are children involved. While we were on the phone, she began asking me all sorts of questions and she didn't know that I was pregnant with Johan, and I told her and we talked for a good hour or so. I told her that if he wanted to go back to her (by this time he was saying he wasn't sure what he wanted. He loved her, and he loved me, and was confused. (I had told him I understood seeing as how I had to deal with that when I first started dating him) but that he had to make a choice. And that while he was here I was not going to let him go without a struggle. I loved him that much that I decided to think of myself for once. If he chose to go, then I would not have anymore contact with him like that, but until he walked out the door, I was fighting for him. I told her that as well. It was a difficult year from the time he came back until August of the following year. We had lots of issues, and lots of tears and anger dealing with all of this. Mainly dealing with the fact that he was a coward all of this time, and he should have just told the truth from day one to both of us. Then things wouldn't get so complicated. There were so many times that I thought about just having him leave. But I loved this man to much to do that. I believed that God put him in my life for a reason - and that reason was for my happily ever after (still do on both accounts), just the way we went about it was the wrong way. I told him that I would not give up. I also reminded him that I told him before we ever got married that if I got married again it would be forever. So he knew what I wanted before hand, and not to expect me to divorce him. He wanted to leave, there was the door, but a divorce was not happening. It took him a while, but finally in August he opened his eyes and realized that he wanted to go back to her out of guilt for his children, and ot of guilt for a promise that he made to her when she was pregnant with Gisela (who is now 12) that he would never leave her. And he didn't want to break his promise. So he finally called her and they had it out, and that was it. Now she still gives him grief and all sorts of problems, but it is to harrass him, and just still cause him problems. She told a mutual friend (so that it would get back to him) that she was going to make his life a living hell and cause as much difficulty as she can for him and I. But the sad thing is that where we are in our relationship, he is what I always wanted. He is my best friend, and all that passion combined. We talk about everything. although we may not agree on alot of stuff, and we bicker over silly stuff (that is our form of stress relief after a long day at work for him, and a long day of children for me) we are so strong right now, and I believe that we will be strong like this until the day one of us dies, just with each day we get stronger. Another sad thing is, as I said before, she is now married, and due to have her first child with her new husband, and she has nothing better to do than to fill the kids heads with crap, and try to make my life crap. I just sit and think that one day soon she will get was she has given - only 100x over. That thought there keeps me calm. I just wish my husband could remember that when he talk to his kids so that he keeps calm, and doesn't let them make him feel guilty.

This October will be 5 years together, and November will be 3 years married. Thinking back, that is the longest that I have been with anyone - I mean living together and working as a team with no seperation, (and although he was in Honduras for 10 months - I don't view it as a seperation so much, because he and I were still together (more like a trio huh, instead of a couple - but I stood by him, so I can say to much about that - to me we were still together), no major major fights (maybe major issues, but not really fights). I take it one day at a time, but I keep my eyes on the prize. A long life filled with lots of love, lots of bickering, and lots of sharing jello on the front porch of our house watching the grandkids.

Kids as Pawns

Why do parents use thier kids as pawns? I don't understand it. I don't understand how the parents that are using the kids don't see how much damage they are doing - not just to the other parent, but to the kids as well. Lale's ex that is in Honduras (Sendi and Gisela's mom) is doing just that and it is driving me nuts!! She is using the kids as weapons, and it is killing my husband, which in turn is hurting me because I hate to see him so upset. Yet she doesn't have a clue as to what it is doing to those two kids. I would love to call her up and talk to her. Tell her woman to woman, mother to mother what she is doing. But that would never work because

1. I am the woman who "stole" her man and
2. 2) She would care less about what I had to say anyway.
   

Let me give you a little background first. My husband and her knew eachother most of their life. They began dating when they were young, and were together for a long time. However she is the type of person (I don't personally know her - I have talked to her only 3 times on the phone - but this is going by stories from MANY MANY MANY different people who have no reason to be on my side so to speak - more about sides later) that is bitter and just basically a bitter woman. Almost from the time they got together they did nothing but argue and fight. She would tell him he was worthless, and she didn't need him and so forth. Just be nasty to him. They split up twice, and in their time together they had three children. The first, Gabriel, died when he was 2 hours old. Then they had Gisela, then Sendi. (So they didn't fight ALL of the time ;)

After Sendi things went from bad to worse, and when Sendi was about 2 years old, Lale got the opportunity to come to the US. He told his dad that since things weren't getting any better between Suyapa and him that he was coming here to at least be able to provide a decent fuure for his children. So in late December 98 he headed to the US. While here he worked his butt of making a better life for his two children, and her as well. Even when he had an accident at work and he wasn't working and wasn't recieving workers comp. he borrowed money to send so that they could continue in the style that they were living in. He saved enough and bought land in a nice place, and had a beautiful house built for them - and at the time had all intention of going back to her. She had written him and told him how sorry she was for how she acted and now realized how horrible she was etc. etc.

Then in September 01 he met me. Now at this time I had no clue of what his relationship was with this woman. He told me he had kids, and he misrepresented himself to me and told me that they were seperated (which technically they were since he was here and she was there) but I took it to mean that they weren't together. I asked others, and they vouched for him that he was free. So we ended up dating. In Feb. 03 we had Mickey, and 6 weeks later I was pregnant again with Isa. During this time that I was pregnant with Isa, I found out the real truth, and so did she. The real truth for me was that when he came, they never had terminated anything. Things were left in a bad place with nothing fixed, yet nothing finalized that they were not together. She told him that if he didn't come back right away then he was going to never be able to talk to his kids again, and so on and so forth. Even before this had happened and before we knew I was pregnant with Isa, he had planned on going home because he missed his children so much. He had already had his plane tickets to leave in August, she just didn't know it yet. So he told her he would be home, and she thinking it was because of her threat. After she found out, he came clean to me about how things were there with her. How they had left things, and how they never ended anything. I talked with his father and other people and found out all about what type of person this woman is. I asked him what he was telling me. Did he want to go back with her? And he told me he wasn't sure what he felt. He knew he loved me and Mickey and Andre and Jordan too, but he still loved her he thought. I understood having had to deal with somewhat those same issues with my first husband of not being able to let go for a long time. So I told him to go back and figure out what he wanted, and if it was her, then I understood, if he wanted to be with me, fine too. I would give him one year to get his heart and mind figured out. It hurt me to say that, but I told him his kids there were old enough to remember him, and they needed him. Mickey and Isa needed him too, but if he never came back they would never remember him, and I could deal with being a single mother again. I didn't want to, but I would. All of his kids needed him, but the older two, knowing him, remembering him, needed him more.

Anyway fast forward to when he arrives back in Honduras. His first night home he gave his kids all of these presents and his parents and her too. His flight came in at around midnight, and he got home close to 3AM. Well by 9AM she had a bonfire with all of the presents he brought for the children, plus her presents too. She wanted nothing to do with them because they came from the US, and that is where I was from. While he was there she continued to do crazy stuff like that, and 10 months later, he was back here with me. From that moment on he had nothing but problems with his children. They would say things like he never loved them, how could he leave their mother, and that their sisters and brothers here weren't their sisters and brothers - they would never claim them, they hated him. He never cared about them, he never sent them anything, never worried about them - that house that he worked his but off to pay for and have built, their mother did all of that. (She worked too, but her money went to pay for her lunch out everyday with her friends, and new clothes for her and so forth) Some of that is normal for little kids, however alot of that (and more) came from the brainwashing from Suyapa. This last week though he has gotten mutliple calls from his kids where they are telling him that they hate him, it is all his fault, their mother never did anything, they don't know why he would leave her (now mind you, she got married in December, and is having a baby soon - so she wasn't that worried about Lale coming back to me - she married a co-worker who she never dated until late last year supposedly - but lots of rumors on that - but that is just that, rumors) he doesn't love them, he only loves us here and so on and so forth. He tells them that he is here working to pay for their school, their food, their clothes that we send and we are in the process of building our house so that in mid 200 we can go back and be financially stable enough that he can stay and doesn't have to come back here to work again. We are doing this for them. He has told them to go and check out our land, and our cows and horses that we have. Get to know the area (it is only like 15 minutes fro where they live now) but they refuse saying that it isn't for them its for us. Nothing he has now interests them. But this last call that came was one that told him not to come back. They said to him why would he come back - for what. What is he going to do there? All of that is words from Suyapa's mouth into those kids ears. I know that when we get there it is going to be a crazy hard time with adjusting and everything, and with her, it is going to be even harder. Those children has heard nothing but crap about their father so that if he doesn't keep his eye on things, they are going to believe it, and that will screw them up and out of a relationship with him. Alot of times after those calls, they will call back within a half an hour and ask him for a huge list of things. Like a new PlayStation2, tons of clothes, a computer, a minibike/scooter thing - nothing cheap. And when he can't send it right away their mother tells them it is because he doesn't care. Then the phone calls start up again with them reaming him out, him crying and feeling torn about what to do, and me losing my mind because I see what is going on, but because it is his children, he is so close to the problem, and he feels guilty for what happened, he feels like it is ALL his fault and he doesn't want to hear anything about it, which makes my life crappy because I have to deal with him.

I would love to just go and smack her.

Next post will be a continuation of this post - just focusing on how I met and my past relationship with Lale and all of the issues that came with that.

I had a plan - then reality set in

(post written on Sunday August 20, 2006)
4 weeks post partem = post partem hormones = crying at everything, crying at nothing.

I am sitting here listening to music crying - almost sobbing - and feeling stupid. I know the reason for my tears. There isn't any, it is just hormnes going crazy trying to get back to normal, but I can't stop the tears. The music that I have on tonight has me thinking back to when I was in high school.

Back then my life revolved around one thing. Horses. I had my life all planned out. I would own a Quarter Horse Breeding Farm. And not the newer style quarter horses with thorobred infused bloodlines, but the "truer" stockier more compact Quarter Horse. I would be married to someone who wouldn't be afraid of long days and hard work. Someone who wanted to work with me on the farm. And i always wanted a big family too. Never had a set number, although I used to tell everyone that I wanted ten children. But really I just wanted alot - as much as God was willing to give me type of deal. I never really had my ideal husband pictured. I guess I never thought that far ahead in my planning - I was to preoccupied with what my ideal horses would look like. Maybe I thought he would come with the farm, I don't know. I knew where I wanted to go to school (Johnson & Wales in Rhode Island), I knew what I would major in (Equine Business Management). Then when i graduated, I would go west, find a farm to work on (King Ranch was a goal) and my life would just unfold from there.

Then reality happened. I met a lovely jerk, fell in stupid with him (thought it was love), got pregnant and had Andre. We broke up officially when Andre was 3 months old, but looking back, on his side we never were even really together as boyfriend and girlfriend. (shows you how stupid I was - 4 yrs with him, and I thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend, but we were nothing). Then when Andre was 8 months old, I met my first husband. He told me things that I wanted to hear, and I did fall in love with him. We got married, I got pregnant, and had Jordan 20 days shy of 2 years after I had Andre. From there I just spent my time trying to survive life with two children, and a husband whose friends and beer were more important than having food in the fridgerator for the children, paying the rent so the kids had a roof over their heads - and I worked both outside the home, and inside the home, but my money wasn't enough to pay the rent, much less the day care, the electric, buy food and so forth. So I kicked him out - I could do bad by myself. I didn't need his help. So I was evicted twice, had two vehicles reposessed, spent two months in the winter with no electric. It was so cold that Jordan, Andre and I slept in the same bed with extra layers of clothes on to keep warm. I didn't have electric, so I didn't have an alarm - so I had a friend call me each morning to wake us up so I could get to work.

I finally got a good job, and I met my now husband and although I had to quit that job, because I didn't have anyone dependable that I could count on to watch my children, and I couldn't afford day care, things started going uphill from there.

I moved into an apartment that I could afford, I had my husband to count on for help.(although we didn't get married until 2 years after we met and started dating - I had to get my divorce from ding dong #1 first) Now my husband and I, we had alot of our own issues, and there was a time that I didn't think that we were going to make it. It was while I was pregnant with Mickey - and I mean I sat down and thought really hard about if we were going to be able to make it or not. He had a temper, and although he had never hit me, he had threatened me once - maybe twice, I don't remember now. And I told him that after my first husband beat the crap out of me that one time, it would never happen with anyone again. He told me he would never hit a woman, and if he felt like he was going to it would be better if he left, and never come back. And I told him that even so, I wasn't going to deal with him destroying crap because he was angry (which he did do that - one day I went out, and I was relying on others to bring me home as I didn't have a car - and I got home real real late, and when I got inside he had turned over the table and sofa's and made a mess of everything) and the crap he did destroy he was replacing, and he was cleaning up the mess he made, and he had to apologize to my children because they walked into the house before I did and saw the mess, and that was what REALLY pissed me off. They didn't need to see that. And he did all of that. I also told him that when my first beat the crap out of me, I took it - I was in shock and didn't even think to fight back - but if he ever felt like he was going to lay a hand on me to remember that although he may be a hell of alot stronger than I am, I am a big girl, and I am a strong girl, and I will come back swinging too. But we worked through that. I put him on "probation" so to speak, and he had no more incident with his anger (where he pulled that crap). Now he still gets angry at things (like for example - the screen door will be closed and he will open the sliding glass door, and not see the screen door and walk right into it. Then the screen door gets kicked, and he gets mad at me for laughing at him, but that is normal.)

After we got married and after the ten months he was in Honduras visiting his children there, and he came back we had some major issues (that is another post for the near future I am sure) and again I didn't think we would make it. But I told him that I wasn't giving up on us, and I wasn't going to let him go without a fight. And I didn't and we are now closer than we ever have been. My grandparents left a couple of weeks ago to move to Florida (we live in Maryland) and we went to visit them their last weekend in this area, and we both can see us like my grandparents. We both want that. My grandparents have been married for 64 years. They are still so much in love it is so cute. I sent them a bunch of questions for them to answer once they get settled in their new place in Florida, and when I get the answers back, I am going to write their story here. I love their story.

Limbs and Things

Go check out this website. Go ahead, I will wait.

http://www.limbsandthings.com/uk/products.php?sectid=DiagnosticSkills&id=60100


Now, take your time to stop laughing, once again I will wait.

Things aren't right in the world when you can go online (or anywhere for that matter) and buy things like this.

Make sure you look on the left hand side as well for a list of other wonderful things you can buy. The clinical male trainer looks like some mini military tank. The clinical female trainer looks like a hammerhead shark with a head injury. When I came across this site, I just died laughing. And yes I know it serves its purpose, but for me, it's main purpose is to make me laugh. Hope you enjoy it as well.

To the couple from the elevator at John Hopkins Outpatient

Today I had my first follow up appointment after my surgery and everything went fine. It was clinic, but I still managed to get in and out of there quickly. If anyone ever has an appointment at John Hopkins and it is at a clinic, like the obgyn clinic, or the orthopedic clinic etc. etc. don't listen to what time they tell you your appointment is. clinic is code for first come first serve. When Johan was 3 weeks old and I had to take him to clinic, I didn't know the secret language of JH, and his appointment was at 10:30AM. I got there 15 minutes early like they tell you and you have to push a button to get a number, alot like the deli number things. Well that number is to be registered. I sat there for over 2 hours before they called my number. just to register me in for the appointment, then once you are signed in, you get another number to see the doctor that you get by the luck of the draw. I sat there another 1 1/2 hours until they called my number, then another 1/2 hour for x-rays then 27 minutes in the room alone to see the doctor for 13 minutes. And everything he told me was stuff I knew from when Johan was born, and I told the nurse.

Anyway, I got out of my appointment and on the elevator I met this couple. They commented on my apparatus, and we made small talk until we got to the lower level. Then they went on to pay for thier parking, and I went to another window. As I waited in the garage for the elevator, they walked up and joined me again. Now let me interject something here, the parking at JH is done by levels, then rows. The levels are numbered, 1 to 6 - , the rows letters, A to C. There is even a place to write your level and row on your ticket. We got in the elevator and I asked them what floor. C he answers. I say to him it doesn't work that way, and explained the parking to him. His wife swears they are on the main floor, and he swears they parked on the 2nd floor. But he is SURE it is in row C. So I drop them off at level 2, and go on up to level 4. Once I get into my van, get situated and everything, more than 10 minutes has passed. I then leave the parking spot and head to the exit. On the third floor I pass him by himself looking for his car. On the first floor I find her looking for the car, yelling into her cell phone, "It isn't here stupid. Find the damn car"

I smiled all the way home.

Hopefully they found their car, and the ride home was more pleasant than I bet it was.

Charles R Hawke

Watching this tribute to Johnny Cash brought tears to my eyes so many hidden feelings to the surface.



I have so many issues to deal with regarding my father, and I can't deal with them. I can't get the closure on them that I feel that I need to. you see, my father is dead. He died on March 30, 2004. Almost 1 yr to the day before Johan was born (Johan was born on March 28th). And when he died so many things were left unsaid.

My father and I, we had a hard relationship when I was younger. When I was born, I was HIS baby. Everything I wanted, basically I got, and in excess, from him. I wanted one cabbage patch doll, I got over 50. (and I wasn't even allowed to play with more than the first one - the rest ahd to stay in boxes). Growing up, I knew he loved me, but his way of showing it to me was in things. Not by his words nor hugs and so forth. I didn't care about the things, I just wanted to be told he loved me. He was very much his fathers son. His father, my Pop, was a very hard man, and was hard on my father, I don't know if he ever told him he loved him or showed him any love growing up. Like with me, it was just expected that you knew. And so my father grew up a hard person (who did have a soft side.) If you were his friend, he would give you the shirt off of his abck. If you did him wrong (whether that be a real or perceived wrong) he would make your life hell. And he had such a distrust for people that if you were his friend, you didn't remain his friend for long. He would drop you so that you wouldn't have the chance to do anything to him. He had 5 children. My three sisters and one brother from his first marriage, then me. The youngest of the first set is 13 or 14 yrs older than me. (I also have two brothers on my moms side from her first marriage) At one time or another in our lives, he has disowned each of us, for petty reasons and reasons such as personal differences. In doing so I think he screwd us all up royaly. Especially for me. When my father disowned me, my other brothers and sisters on his side, so an not to piss my father off really didn't and still don't for that matter - have much to do with me. They just shut me out and treat me like I don't exist. When he died, they rallied around eachother, not around me. At that time, my husband was in Honduras, my mom had to leave for work. I basically had to deal with it myself. That was hard.

(when I turned 19, I became pregnant with my son Andre.) When I told me father that Andre was mixed (he had never met Andre's father before) he disowned me then and there.)

When my father died, it was a Tuesday evening around 8:00pm. No one bothered to call me or told me anything until Wednesday morning - almost at noon. And I swear to you, the only reason that they called me then was so that I would sign the paper my oldest sister needed me to sign so that she sould become the executor of his estate. In the months before his death we had yet to talk, and he had had heart attacks, was in a horrible car crash and in the hospital for a long time, he was on dialysis, open heart surgery and had lost tons of weight. (he was easily 350 - 400 pounds, if not more most of his adult life, and when he died he was less than 180 pounds. For a man who was 6'9" and large boned, that is skinnier than skin and bones.) But for all of that, not once did any of them call me and let me know what was going on.

It just so happened that I called Karen, one of my sisters on March 1st to see how he was doing. And she told me he was in the hospital. I took a chance and called him up. He talked to me, and we made plans for me to go and visit him on Thursday. (It was a Tuesday that I called him). I hung up the phone and cried. I was filled with so many emotions, happiness, relief, and just a sense of "I finally have my father back, after 10 years". After 5 minutes or so, the anger that I had, for him acting like nothing had ever happened, it just went away. I didn't care that he treated me like shit these past 10 yrs. It was all over and done with, and I was his daughter again. I went to see him, and if I had passed him on the street, I wouldn't have known who he was. He had changed, he was no longer this huge overbearing rough man, but now this broken down old man. It upset me to see the change in him. We talked for a bit, but because he had just gotten back from dialysis, he was exhausted, so I told him I would let him rest. When I left I gave him a kiss on his forehead and told him I loved him. He told me he loved me too. I saw him the following Sunday, the 7th. I took Mickey and Isa to meet him, and I got a picture of them with him. Isa was just 3 months old, and Mickey was 13 months old. He played with Mickey for a whlie, and talked to my mother about how she looks just like I did. That was the last time I saw him. (The picture above is from the last time I saw him - with Isa and Mickey) I was going to bring him food and eat dinner with him but I got sick. And so as not to get him more sick, I didn't go and see him. I called him a couple of times. But normally he was either sleeping, or out of it becasue of the drugs, so I didn't call very much. Three weeks later he died. I have so much resentment - actually not so much towards him, but towards Connie, Karen, Valerie and Tommy, and how they all treated me when it happened and since then (hell before then too for that matter). I so want to tell them how I feel. How DAMMIT, I AM somebody. I am blood. I have done nothing to deserve to be treated like I am a nobody. And for the four of them, who don't really have much, they sure do think that they are better than everyone else.

I am angry at my father because he left me. First because he allowed his last 10 years of his life to pass without letting me back in his life. Ten years - in that ten years so much had happened. I had 4 children, married twice. So much had happened that he never got to know. Ten years without my father to talk to from the age of 19-29. He missed out on knowing my children, who they are, and they missed out on knowing Pop Pop. All of my neices and nephews got to know him. They grew up with Pop Pop in their lives. He wasn't there when my first husband beat the shit out of me, and afterward, I let him back. Because he was so much like my father, I think I looked for my first DH's approval as a substitute for my fathers. It never worked though. My father missed out on so many conversations that I wanted to talk to him about. I missed out on ten years of hugs and I love you's. I missed out on him meeting Lale, and getting to know him. of giving him the chance to be there for me when I got married.

I am angry at him becasue I have so much to say to him that was left unsaid. And because he is gone, it can never be said. And that is hard. Usually those feelings and thoughts stay locked up deep down, but sometimes a sight or song or smell or memory will trigger the floodgates. And the Johnny Cash video tribute did it for me. I remember him listening to Johnny Cash when I was younger. No sooner did the song start, the tears did too. But it has been a while since I have cried for my father. I guess it was time to revisit these thoughts again. To cleanse myself again for another while.

I guess there is only one other thing to say. It is to my father.

Throughout my life - even during - no especially during - those ten years I loved you, and forgave you. And still I love you and miss you, and wish for one more hug, one more I love you - just one more minute with you.

One of these things are not like the other...

I saw this truck the other day and I was reminded of something from my childhood. Who remembers the old Sesame Street? Before all of the "upgrades". You know when Cookie Monster still ate cookies (and only cookies) and Bert and Ernie were just roommates and not secret lovers. (Although I always thought that they were brothers...)

Remember when they showed you a group of items and played the song about which one doesn't belong?

One of these things is not like the others, One of these things just doesn't belong, Can you tell which thing is not like the others By the time I finish my song?

Anyway, I was leaving an office after dropping off some paperwork, this truck caught my eye. Let me exlpain this truck to you, and you will se why it was odd that it caught my eye. It was your normal everyday "landscaping" pick up truck. You know - it was a white, four door Ford pick up with the company sign on the front door. I couldn't figure out what it was that caught my eye. Then I read the sign. In big white letters on a green background it read:

Survival Training. Seals, WWII, Tree Removal Service.

Instantly Sesame Street came to mind.