Thursday, August 13, 2015

Somebody call a WAHbulance!!

After a 2 day sinus headache, I finally felt well enough to continue the onslaught of tidying up around here. I ended up looking at the piano in the corner and began to cry.
This is what it's like (for me) to be an adult with A.D.D.
What brought on the tears?
Okay, since I was in bed for those 2 days, the house has imploded. Ugh. Ok, so pick up this trash out of the living room....ok, what?? There is a god-damn rotting banana peel on my couch!
Shit. (Gets upholstery cleaner) Scrubs it away, and notices the kittens have pulled a roll of toilet paper behind the other couch and shredded it.
(Runs to get broom, has brain fart and gets vacuum instead)
Oh well, need to vacuum anyway! Starts to vacuum but stops because too much stuff on floor.
Goes to bedroom sees a million things that have to be put up, dusted, etc.
Leaves bedroom. Goes to bathroom.
Immediately leaves the grimy moldy bathroom with heavy heart. Smells like the piss of little boys in there..
Goes to feed cats, notices litterboxes are stinking and need to be cleaned, does that..takes garbage outside, notices the neighborhood association has put a paper on my door telling me that I need to clean up my yard, etc.
Embarrassed, angry, frustrated.. comes back in, looks at piano...needs to be polished,  and I need to use wood putty and sand it and re stain it.
Sees MOUNTAIN of boxes piled on said piano that have to be sorted and all contents put in husbands office...before I can even ATTEMPT to salvage the piano...

Here comes the waterworks!!!
End of pity party...for now.

Saturday, August 8, 2015


It's hard for me to "adult".
I'm 41, and yet I still don't have my shit together. I hear everybody say that, and yet they have decent houses, cars, their kids all have cute rooms and plenty of clothes and toys.
I don't have any of that.
I COULD have that....if I was "adult" enough to make it happen. But for all my efforts, I still don't have it.
I would love to blame it on everybody else I live with. I live with insane 8 year olds and teenagers who trash the place.
I am married to a hoarder who has 2 storage containers filled with boxes of receipts...all the way back to 1994. Our house is also a storage unit of his..

But...I can't blame them. If I had my shit together, I'd clean up after them and just run this house.
I know a lot of women who run a tight ship. They aren't assholes, they just don't fuck around. When they tell their kids to clean up, they do. They enforce and delegate everyone to help out around the house. Or some of them just do it all themselves and don't allow anyone to fuck up their house.

But...I can't do that. I've tried...I end up just being an asshole. I don't know how to delegate without turning into Mommy Dearest.
So, in order to have a happy home with kids and a husband that don't hate my guts, I have had to shut the hell up and just deal with the chaos that everyone creates. If I was diligent, I would never let things go till they are overwhelming. If I had a consistent plan, I would never be disgusted with everyone's mess.
But...I'm a procrastinator, a day dreamer, and a TV watcher.
I watch a Home Improvement marathon, and when I look up, my house is in ruins.
My fault.
So...I'm 41 and still trying to create new habits for myself.
It's not easy, and I want to scream sometimes. But my house and maybe even my life WILL look decent one day. Dammit.


If I could remember to take pics of my life and use them in this blog, then I'd have a lot more to say. We'll see...

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

If I only had a heart, a brain, the noive!

I'm laying in bed at 1 am ready to get up at 4am to take my 16 year old daughter to the airport.
She's flying to meet her brother and sister in law in NYC and then they're all flying to Europe. She'll be gone 3 weeks.
I am focusing on the luxury and education and fun of this. I am keeping fears at bay, but they are there...oh boy are they!
What can you do? She's been offered a free trip. Our eldest son paid for it..he desperately wants her to go, so how can you argue with that? I can't, so I don't.
As much as I want to keep them in a safe bubble, and as much as I'll want to die if anything goes wrong...I would be wrong to not allow this.
I'm reminded of my poor father who lives a very small and secluded life because he his controlled by fear. As easy as it is for me to do the very same thing, I have to fight it and never do that. It's no way to live.

Sunday, June 28, 2015


Well, as usual I blew off this blog and haven't touched it for months. Sticking with things isn't a strength of mine.
I think I get bored with this blog because it's just a diary.  I really wanted a blog that would connect to people...I wanted to do something to help, or some service of some kind. But I just have no freaking idea what that is.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

"No one falls in love by choice, it is by chance. No one stays in love by chance, it is by work. And no one falls out of love by chance, it is by choice."

My wife and I have known each other since high school, but didn't date until much later. We had only dated a couple of weeks before we realized that we were madly in love and wanted to get married.
I was all for it! I even suggested a spontaneous, immediate wedding in Vegas. (Seriously.) Kim, however, was a bit more practical about the whole thing. She wanted to take time to plan it all out.

I felt deflated. "We're so different," I said. "You like to plan, while I like to be spontaneous."
Kim's eyes widened. "I can be spontaneous!" she said, hurriedly. "I can totally be spontaneous. You just have to tell me in advance when you want to be spontaneous, and I will write it down in my planner..."
I gave her a strange look. She was totally serious! Clearly, Kim did not understand the meaning of spontaneity.
Funny as it may seem, the more I think about this conversation the more I've come to realize that planning to love someone--or choosing to love someone--is actually one of the most beautiful things about love.
I've heard it said that real love is an unconditional commitment to an imperfect person.
It's true.
When all the butterflies have fluttered away and your wedding day becomes a distant memory, you will discover that you've married someone who is just as imperfect as you. And they, in turn, will come to learn that you have problems, insecurities, struggles, quirks--and body odor--just as real as theirs!
Then you will realize that real love isn't just a euphoric, spontaneous feeling--it's a deliberate choice--a plan to love each other for better and worse, for richer and poorer, in sickness and in health. Of course, you don't choose who you're attracted to, but you definitely choose who you fall in love with and (more importantly) who you stay in love with.
Our society places a lot of emphasis on feelings. We are taught that we should always follow our feelings and do whatever makes us happy. But feelings are very fickle and fleeting. Real love, on the other hand, is like the north star in the storms of life; it is constant, sure, and true. Whenever we're lost and confused we can find strength in the love that we have chosen.
Besides, life already offers us plenty of spontaneity: rejection, job loss, heartache, disappointment, despair, illness, and a host of other problems. We simply can't abandon ship every time we encounter a storm in our marriage. Real love is about weathering the storms of life together.
When my grandma was in her fifties, she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, a degenerative disease that disrupts the body's ability to communicate with its nervous system. Within a few short years, Grandma had lost the ability to walk and was confined to a wheelchair. Grandpa, who was then the chief of police, retired two years earlier than planned in order to take care of Grandma. He helped her do everything--from getting around the house and visiting the doctor, to helping her take her medicine and bathe.
In speaking about my grandma, Grandpa once told my mom, "It hurts me to see her like this. You know, when I got married I thought that everything would be smooth sailing. I never imagined that I would have to help her change her catheter every day. But I do it and I don't mind it--because I love her."
Love is so much more than some random, euphoric feeling. And real love isn't always fluffy, cute, and cuddly. More often than not, real love has its sleeves rolled up, dirt and grime smeared on its arms, and sweat dripping down its forehead. Real love asks us to do hard things--to forgive one another, to support each other's dreams, to comfort in times of grief, or to care for family. Real love isn't easy--and it's nothing like the wedding day--but it's far more meaningful and wonderful.
I recently came across this wonderful quote: "No one falls in love by choice, it is by chance. No one stays in love by chance, it is by work. And no one falls out of love by chance, it is by choice."
Whenever my wife and I run into a problem in our marriage we do our best to choose love. While we're certainly not perfect, the love we share today is more real and more wonderful than anything we had ever anticipated.
So, whatever spontaneous storm may come our way I plan on loving my wife.
If you truly love someone (and they truly love you), commit to that love and plan on it being hard work.
But also plan on it being the most rewarding work of your life.
This article was originally published on 

Sunday, October 26, 2014

All Falling Into Place

I got my very first tattoo yesterday. It was a wonderful experience for me, and one I am sure to repeat again and again.
I am almost 40, and am glad I waited because now I know what I want, know who I am (mostly) and am positive I will never regret what I had put on my body. At 18, I wanted a Misfits Skull, a black panther crawling over my entire back...and anything that screamed "I want to be scary and tough"!! Do you understand how embarrassed I would be to have that crap on my body NOW?? Shudder..
So getting my tattoo now is also a big deal for me, silly as it may seem...tattoos are still a very taboo thing in my extended family and I have refrained from doing so many things that are "me" in order to not offend those I'm related to.  So doing this for myself and finally not worrying about what my family will think of it has been a long time coming.

For a handful of years...I've slowly rid myself of people and things in my life that don't support who I really am. I have pretty much divorced myself from all aunts, uncles, and cousins..none support me or have really been a part of my life anyway, so no biggie. But I've also distanced myself from some siblings and my own parents's just not a working relationship. I haven't crossed them out of my life...I just don't pretend that it's more than it really is. I am close to one sibling. And I love my other 2..but they are not a part of my life and really never have been. So, I just call it what it is and move on.
 I have never been close to my father and it has always been a contentious relationship, so no harm there in keeping a safe distance.

 My mother...I adore. But sadly, she isn't capable of handling who I really am without it ruffling her feathers. So I refrain from telling her too much about me, because I don't need or wish to upset her, and I don't really need her approval. I just wish she could be a bigger part of my life, but C'est la vie..So, for me...getting my tattoo is a big milestone for allowing myself to be who I am. For years I lived a lie. For most of my adult life, I played a role exactly like an actress in a theater because I was too young and too scared..terrified more like it, to figure out and be who I really was.
 That happened because I had a baby at 18 in the bible belt of Texas! I quickly reached out for the nearest lifeline as I felt I was drowning. And the nearest thing was: become a god-fearing christian woman and raise your kid right! Be a good person, an upstanding citizen. Leave behind your evil, sin-filled ways of drugs, sex, and punk rock music! And the only way to do all that was to become a christian and adopt the lifestyle.  And so I did. And when I really decide to do something...I go all the way. So I became: "Super Christian Mother Wife"!!! And well, the rest was history. (I had a cape and  everything!)

 I literally feel sick when I think back to those years of purely faking my way through life. It is insanity to me now...but at the time, I used it as a way to figure out how to be a mom and a wife, when before all I was, was a teenager who couldn't wait to graduate highschool, move away, and become the next Siouxsie Sioux ;) Joining a church, getting baptized  and spending every waking moment trying to emulate Joyce Meyer was what my life became. I removed myself from what I was..ended every relationship with almost everyone I knew, and turned into Betty Crocker with a bible. Deep inside, I was miserable.But it wasn't all bad...I DID do a good job with my kid because of my new lifestyle. Things remained pretty calm and stable, I created a very homogenized and safe home for my son. I stopped cussing, I never drank or smoked or did anything harder than an Ibuprofen. I enrolled him in christian preschool and only had christian friends. I pretty much stopped listening to music and over time, forced myself to only listen to christian music (even though I hated it), and only watched G and PG movies...hell, I even bought a device that hooks up to your TV to block out any inappropriate language! It had 3 settings: Heavy (pretty much blocks out everything...even the word "dang"), Moderate (you can say dang) or Light (you must not really be a christian if you choose THIS setting! haha) and which one did choose? Heavy of course! Now, not all christians are like this, and I'm not suggesting they are. This just happened to be the influence that I was subjected to, and then embraced.

But, like a splinter that is embedded in your might stay there, skin grows over it...but it will always be a foreign object and an irritant in that foot. It doesn't belong, and the body will push that sucker out over time. Such was the case with my "conversion". It never felt right, it never really could grow its roots in me. It had been embedded very deep inside me, that's why it took so many years for it to finally be pushed out...but honestly, I faked everything I claimed to have or understand during that time. I was gonna "fake it till you make it".  I researched the hell outta everything. I read every book, I read and reread the bible, I attended multitudes of classes, groups, and organizations looking for the answers. I went years just patiently waiting it out..I accepted faith in just faith. I accepted the "not knowing".  I lived that way for a very long time. Until I didn't. I didn't just snap. I just finally got my answers. And the sense of finality, and of refreshing confirmation overcame me. I finally knew what I had always felt in my gut: none of it is real. None of it makes ANY sense. None of it matters in this one life. And most importantly..I'm fine just being who I am, and I'm FREE!! 
That was just a handful of years ever since then, I've been making my way in the world with fresh eyes, and looking around and really figuring out what I like and don't like. What I care and don't care about. What's important to me, and what's not. It's been wonderful. Difficult at times (such is life), but wonderful.I declare myself Agnostic, simply because I am comfortable saying "I don't know". It seems most likely that there is no god, no jesus, and that no religion out there is real. All man-made. BUT... since you can't prove that 100%...I'm happy to be agnostic. I love it. Truly love feeling the comfort of reality and believing and trusting in what I can see, hear, taste, smell, touch..there's nothing like it! There's a lot more to this story, but I've already written a novel here...

Friday, May 17, 2013

Writing Underwater

I have been half-writing for as long as I can remember. I wrote little poems and songs when I was as young as 7. I kept a diary around that same time too. I didn't stick with it. It mainly had drawings and only a couple of entries.."Dear Diary, my daddy doesn't love me. He yelled at me and I don't know what to do. He acts like he hates me all the time." and then on the next page, "Dear Diary, NEVERMIND! He loves me again! I'm SO happy!" I distinctly remember this. I still think it's disturbing! And also pathetic, but I was 8 years old so I can't be too hard on myself.
 Anyway, I always tried my hand at writing little stories. I never saved any of them. I only have vague memories of things I wrote about. An Artic Fox named "Summer"...a ghost story or two. I also remember the song I wrote when I was 7. It is pretty freaking hilarious, and I don't remember the title, but here goes:
  "I'm a city girl inside, and a country girl outside, with a tender broken heaaaart. I love to play with my animals all day long, 'cause I love them very muuuucchhh. But sometimes I'm feelin' crazy! And sometimes I'm feelin' saaaaad. 'Cause I'm a country girl inside and city girl outside with a tender broken heaaaart!"
Are you laughing?? Because I am...I think I must've been watching a lot of the "Hee-Haw" television show around that well as "Dukes of Hazard" because that song is CORN-BALL.
But cute, I'll give it that ;)
When I was 9, my mother went to this little hole in the wall bookstore that was going out of business, so they were selling boxes of miscellaneous books for $3 a box. She grabbed one and brought it home. I remember digging through the box..just a lot of grown-up books that looked boring, until I noticed a very thick and old book called "The Water Babies" by Charles Kingsley.
 I get chills when I think back to this. I don't know why this became such an important book to me, or why even the way I found it was a big deal....all I can tell you is it was one of the only times in my life that felt magical. Like finding buried treasure in your backyard. Or finding a secret room in a house you'd lived in for years.
The most wonderful part of the book was the illustrations. The inside cover had a gorgeous full-color portrait of little water babies and fish and lobsters and pearls.
None of the other pages in the book were colorized, just simple black ink drawings. But they were of sea creatures, ocean scenes, fairies, gods, monsters. But the most wonderful picture of all was on page 50. The beautiful water goddess. Floating underwater surrounded by seaweed and bubbles and fish and tiny little water took my breath away! Over the years, I've tried to find another copy of this exact book (I've got 4 copies...none of them are alike, totally different illustrations, same story). I've searched the internet for years. Always seem to just miss out on one sold on Ebay. Kinda makes it that much more special, but still I'd love to find out everything I can. I once let a friend borrow it, and they took it to Barnes and Noble where they said an older man came over, freaked out, and said they couldn't believe it. Said it had to be first-edition. I wished I had been there..I would have asked that man a million questions! But still,  Awesome! And I'm now never going to let anyone ever borrow my book again, haha!
Presently, I would love to have that water goddess tattooed on my's that special to me. I've wanted it for years, but never had the money to spend on myself in that way....but the time is coming! I think if you've loved something since you were 9, it's safe to say you'll love it permanently etched onto your skin! (Unless it's this):

I have read the story so many times, and the interesting part is it's complicated for children to understand. It has a lot of old english in it, it has a lot of antiquated phrases and topics that I didn't understand at 9...but it didn't diminish my love for the tale! As the years went by, I re-read it over and over, always gaining something new out of it as I matured.
Then as an adult, I read the book to my own children, starting at age 2, when they couldn't really "get" it...but it was still fun. And I love seeing them able to grasp it as they age.
 As the years went by, I still continued my attempt at writing as a teenager..mostly god awful poetry, punk rock songs, and eye-rolling gothic gore stories. Again, never kept any of it.

And still as an adult, my attempts at writing are scattered (ADHD?)'ll find scraps of paper in every purse, or jacket I own with handwritten "notes" and paragraphs to parts of a story that I have been trying to write for YEARS. I am determined to finish it one day, because it's an amazing story when I see it in my head....getting it down on paper is almost torture though...I just can't get what's IN my head, ONTO the page! It drives me bananas. But I'm never going to be able to give up until I have it all out of me. I hope to self-publish it one day. We'll see! It sure looks like I have no trouble writing a novel here on this blog! Until next time...

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Boogyman, Shmoogyman

I believe everyone goes through changes. Nothing stays the same. That said, I feel like I've been morphing nonstop for the last couple of years. Making my head spin. But overall, change is good. For example, I had always been an overprotective mother...I used to be uber-religious, and that fed into my psyche as to "protect" my kids from the evils of the world. I went so far as to buy something called a "TV Guardian" which was a machine you hooked up and it filtered out ALL questionable language...even the word "dang" was blocked out!

Anyway, fear has always been an issue for me. I only found out a handful of years ago that I suffer from General Anxiety Disorder, and have probably had it most of my life. I suffered nightmares and night terrors CONSTANTLY as a child, I was always an insecure and nervous child.
Fast forward, and I was an insecure and nervous mother who felt the boogeyman was going to harm my children any second.
Well, since getting medicated for my anxiety (best thing I ever did), life has opened up for me. There are real, horrible things out there in the world. Real monsters. Real killers.
But can I let them rule how I want to run my life? Sure I can, and have for years, but I'm determined to plow through them and live free now.
2 weeks ago, I began to allow my 6 year old to ride his bike on our block. He made some friends and is now allowed to play in their front or backyards. He has a couple of friends with whom I know their parents, so he is allowed to go in their house if invited. This is ALL new for me. I never allowed my older children to ever do fact, my eldest wasn't allowed to ride his bike in the neighborhood until age 13! haha.
My 6 year old (a high-energy child), comes home filthy and happy everyday. He's that kind of "Opie" kid who has frogs and lizards in his pockets and skinned knees. I adore it. He is getting the energy and stimulation he so craves. I'm getting work done around the house and don't feel guilty because I'm too tired to keep up with his need for play (he has no concept of why I DON'T always want to play). And folks, I'll be honest and bad mother-ish: I'm tired. Internally. Possibly burnt-out. And I need that 1970's lifestyle of kids playing outside until dinnertime. So I'm making it happen!

It's terrifying. And if my kid was to be kidnapped or something horrid was to happen...I'll be on here denouncing this decision. I'll never forgive myself.
But I have a fundamental belief that this really is a good thing. I am seeing with my own eyes the benefits to him (and yes, me). So, I'm swallowing fear (and NOT my intuition, mind you...I listen to my inner voice, and heed her warnings no matter what!) but I'm going to let him have more freedom than I ever gave to my older kids, and more freedom than I think modern parents think is appropriate.

 There is a website called that supports and encourages this idea. I find the website to be polarizing and a bit too aggressive about their views. I think it makes parents who DON'T agree with this method, out to be crazy, meddling, bad parents...and that is NOT cool! Everyone has a right to do what they feel is best. No one should be made to feel they are fucking up when they are trying their hardest to figure out what to do. There are no instruction books, remember...
Anyway, if you go to the website, you might get offended because of the absolutist attitude they have.'s worth looking at just to educate yourself on an idea you may never have thought of. One of the founders dropped off her 9 year old in New York to take the subway home, and that's a bit much for me....but it FEELS like I'm letting my kid take the NY Subway by just letting him go outside to play!! To each, his own.

I sure have been writing a lot of parenting posts lately...but I guess that's to be expected since that is what I've been involved with for 20 years...being a stay at home mom. It's the one thing I have the most experience (but not expertise!) in.  I did touch on a couple of topics that I REALLY want to dive into with you all, the religion and anxiety things. So, until next time, everybody! :)

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Parent of the Year, and Then I Woke Up..

Let's talk about my major Parenting Fail that happened a couple of days ago. My 14 yr old daughter had a dance recital at school. I took my eldest son (20 yrs old), my daughter-in-law, and my 6 year old. It was a long daughter was to be in 3 of the 15 dances. My daughter-in-law was feeling sick, so after my daughters 2 dances, I had to take them home. I was going to turn around and come right back. The dance was advertised to end at 9PM, so I took my sweet time, and arrived back at 8:30PM...thinking I had plenty of time before the final dance of the night, in which my daughter was in. Everyone was gone, dance was way over...and my daughter was the ONLY ONE who didn't have her family there hugging and praising her like all the other girls had.
I never felt so hideous in my life. Especially since I honestly didn't think she cared whether I was there or not (hint: no matter how snarly your teen is to you...they ALWAYS want you there). Seeing her cry and how much she DID care, was heartbreaking. Lesson learned.
My relationship with my teen daughter is rough. It's in its ugly phase. She regularly resorts to being a vicious, snarling beast 85% of the time, and I am usually trying to remain cool, calm, and collected while being treated like Satan's Dog, and at the same time, trying really hard to not resent being used for my chauffeur and maid services. I don't always succeed. Sometimes, I give into my base emotions and argue with her. Then we BOTH end up acting like 14 year olds.
It can be maddening to figure out the right thing to do or say to her. From my research, I am supposed to ride this out. Don't argue. Stay calm. Supposedly, this will pass one day. In the meantime, keep her safe, have consistent rules, but give her space. Done. But it's still so freaking hard. I cry every time I look at her baby or kid pictures. I miss my sweet little fairy princess.
I never went through this with the Eldest. Born as a "Golden Child"...he gave me a little trouble in his teen years, but nothing like his sister. Comparatively, it's like apples and unicorns. So, I feel like a real newbie at this.
Just my opinion...but girls are WAY harder to raise than boys...not a bad thing, just a more complicated thing. Not surprising.
So, after hugs and apologies for dropping the ball and making her feel like an abandoned child, I am taking her to go get her ears pierced again and she is super excited about that.  My way of trying to give her a special day. I still feel like an ass though. She doesn't give me a lot of chances to show her how much I love and support her, and I really blew it.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Insane In The Membrane...Insane In The Brain!!

So typical of me. I wrote a post the other day about how my kid doesn't have ADHD....COMPLETELY forgetting about the fact that I actually DO have adult ADHD. It completely went out of my head.
First of all, I didn't know I had it until I was doing mass research for my son at the beginning of this school year. Whereas, he only had 1 out of 10 symptoms for it....I had 10 out of 10. And thinking back to my childhood...I'd ALWAYS had these symptoms. So....BIG surprise/ and not so surprised for me!
In a weird way, I was so relieved...all of my issues finally made sense. All of my severe problems with forgetfulness, inattentiveness, disorganization, procrastination, and scatterbrained-ness...finally had another legitimate reason OTHER than..."You're just a big, fat LOSER" stamped on my forehead.

So in September of 2012, I bought books on mothers/women with ADHD...and promptly forgot about them and STILL haven't read them!! I also joined some email lists and started to look for online support groups, but probably got distracted by something shiny, so...that's about as far as I took it.
So...after writing  about how my son DOESN'T have it...a couple of days later I got seriously told off my my husband of 21 years. Seems he was having another breakdown due to my disorganization, forgetfulness, inattentiveness, procrastination, and scatterbrained-ness. Again. And I felt like a loser. Again. And I cried..again. You get the picture.
So, after that, I began to look up ways to help myself get better at all these things. Then I noticed an ADHD newsletter in my inbox. I click on it, and the title was: "8 Ways Your ADHD is Affecting Your Relationship"....and my god, everything my husband yelled at me about was written in that article. So I forwarded it to him, and feel some hope. So does he.
I'm still researching and figuring out solutions to all this bullshit in my life. It will be a long road ahead of me, but I'm confident I can implement techniques to better mine and my family's life.
And btw, I haven't received a professional diagnosis.  I don't have insurance and can't afford to go get tested. I have taken several online tests...I fit the profile and have all the symptoms.
I'm on meds for anxiety and depression, and they upped one of my medications yesterday because it's supposed to help with ADHD. But really, the best thing for me will be cognitive behavior therapy. Can't afford that either, so will see what I can get off the internets!!