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Posts Tagged ‘My sister’

Today I’ve been thinking about how my friends have changed through the years.  I’m always saying there is a reason we are where we are, and how all events have shaped us and brought us here.  The same holds true for our friendships.

If you know me, or have read my blog for a while, you know that I was divorced about a year and a half ago.  It wasn’t the first time, but I feel like it was one of the most eye opening things that happened in that relationship.  How it ended, solidified my feelings about what I was willing to do for that marriage, and where I already knew I was, but just needed one event/item to teeter me toward working on it or bailing.  Yes, it was at that point.  I’m not going to delve into that marriage and how it ran downhill, because I don’t feel it’s something worth talking about.  There were events that are pertinent to what I’m about to blog about, and I’ll state those throughout the post, so that’s the reason I mentioned it.  As a side note – I  don’t care to devote anymore of my life to that person, nine years (three married) was way too long to deal with that relationship.   That relationship did more than teach me how not to live with BS, it taught me who my true friends and family are.  So, that’s where we’ll start today – the week I left.

If you don’t know about bluntcard.com – go now

I can count CLOSE friends on one hand.  I’ve never been a real social creature, and even when I did like to party, I had lots of “peeps” and a handful of CLOSE friends.  At the close of business to my last marriage they were, my sister, one BFF (I’m using that instead of writing it out, but I’m not 12) of 17 years, another of 11, a sister-in-law, and 2-3 great friends that I’ve never met in person.  Each story of where our relationship now is different, and deserves it’s own post, since this is my blog I’ll just type and we’ll see how long this gets.

My sister, has always been my best friend.  She taught me, whether directly or indirectly what to do, and what not to do, or what I didn’t want to do in life.  We are completely different, even though we sound alike on the phone.  We are also alike in very creepy ways.  For instance, I can walk into her house to visit (when I lived 4 hours away and hadn’t seen her in a year) and walking into her bathroom I could find every product I had in mine.  Same brand, same scents, same type.  We don’t talk about those types of things.  We also will both tell you that we are totally different (especially when it comes to raising our kids), but my kids have said that I say the same things she does, and hers have told me the same thing.  I trust her with my kids and she does the same with me.  Our children have always known that we love them as if they were ours.  We have disciplined them interchangeably and loved them interchangeably.  That has created an amazing bond for all of them.  I love getting calls about new jobs, boyfriends, texts about shoes, and the 3 am phone calls from my Lu telling me something she just has to laugh about or just chatting when she can’t sleep.  I deeply love my sister and her family.  With that said, she is easily the one person who can piss me off the most, because she knows me…but that’s what sisters do.

My best friend of 17 years met me through C’s (my son) dad.  We met while I was 16 and about 6 months pregnant.  She always told everyone that she knew C when he was in my belly and making me type in typing class with my arm straight out because I couldn’t pull up to the table.  She was, by far, my best friend throughout the majority of my early adult life.  We had been through birth, death, boyfriends, husbands (mine), moving, friends coming and going, and just life in general.  When I moved to Atlanta, we lost touch, but each time we talked it flowed, like time was never lost.  My kids called her their aunt, and until C was 15 he had no clue she was not related to him…didn’t matter that she was Korean and he was Mexican.

My other best friend met me by default…we had joint friends and had met, and then when I moved to Atlanta, she and my sister-in-law to be were the only people I “knew.”  We quickly became BFF’s because of how much we were alike.  There was no where that we would go that the other didn’t want to.  Our idea of fun was exactly the same.  I could look at her and say “I want to do” and she would say “_____” – it would be what I was going to say.  If she wanted to leave somewhere she’d say “I’m done here” and I would have been thinking the same thing.  We had some crazy times, and she knows more about me than anyone on the earth.  We don’t live near each other and haven’t physically seen each other in about 5 years…however we talk regularly (not as much as I like) and we just pick right up.  I love her – she is my sister.

My sister-in-law (now ex) and I were introduced before I moved up to Atlanta in 2001.  When we met, we hit it off immediately.  Throughout the 6 year dating relationship of her brother and I, we remained friends at times that he and I were not together, we just carried on as friends normally do.  We have endured many things, her divorce, my marriage to her brother, her lowest points and recovery, the death of my mother, and everything in between.  My children love her dearly, and were very close to her. Our relationship is one of the most important I’ve had.

Again, bluntcard.com

These 4 women have been my staples throughout life and now.  I’d include my mom, but she was not a best friend, she was my mother.  She holds the most special place in my heart and life, even in her passing.  I was lucky enough to have my (ex) mother-in-law at the time my mom passed, and as hard as that was, she became just like my own mother and I felt the same way about her.  She was a huge influence and kept me going most days and through many tough times.

The day I left, rather, the week I left my home (and ex) I learned how much friendships and family can hang in the balance of one decision.  I’ve said before that, in fact, there is a line of how much crap I will put up with.  I’m all for hanging in there, but when you are the only one hanging and the someone else thinks they can just act like they don’t care, what’s the point?  We had been through a rough year of marriage, from work, to money, to the final straw and me deciding I wasn’t up for seeing how far he was going to take a “friendship.”  I can deal with many things…and yes, I have been guilty of many things, however, I won’t sit by and have something flaunted in front of me and act like it’s ok, and I don’t know about it.  It’s not.  So, with that, I found the proof – right in front of me in real time, and decided that I was out, done.  I didn’t want to act to quickly, and I made it through one night.  One night of no sleep, pounding heart, wanting to stuff a pillow over his face while he slept like a baby, me smoking like a chimney and sneaking outside at 4 am to call my BFF of 17 years.  She sounded surprised, but with the history between he and I, I don’t think she realized how NOT OK I was.  She told me to calm down, think it through, and confront him. I didn’t do that.  I kept quiet while I figured out what I wanted.  It was apparent that he was not thinking of “us,” so why would I “talk” through it with him and believe that he was going to have an epiphany and suddenly care?  The rapid downfall of the marriage signified to me that I was not willing – so I found the opportunity to change things since they weren’t changing on their own.  The day I left, was probably the last time I really talked to my mother-in-law.  I talked to my sister-in-law once or twice later that week and soon after we were cut off.  She was in recovery, and my best guess was that his family had a lot to deal with and it was probably best for her that she not have to choose sides and deal with the stress so soon.  I never felt mad about losing touch with her, I felt it was best for her to not feel the wrath of her family because she was still talking to me like we had always done when he and I were not together.  This time, it wasn’t that simple.  It was over, and apparently, depending on how you look at it, family does not mean the same thing to all people.

Throughout the marriage, it was apparent that HIS family and HIS friends were superior to mine.  Aside from a month that my mom lived with us in Atlanta while she was seeing doctors, it was always a fight to have time with my family or friends.  He never wanted to go to my sisters house, even though his family’s house was the same distance.  He hardly knew about family functions, as his mom called me, or I called them to set up when we were to meet, or what we were doing.  He simply showed up when I dragged him out of the house.  He used his family for hunting and when he needed them.  I was the one to initiate contact and it was out of my desire to have closeness that we actually had friends and family to be with.  Since he didn’t want to see my family, I made him take me to his.

Back to my one friend of 17 years and how that relationship ended. We only went to functions of his friends, I had to drag him to my BFF’s wedding.  Subsequently he made great friends with her husband, and for the time we lived near them, they became close to him also.  He hired her husband to work for him, and ultimately, sides were chosen again when we separated.  He had built up a force of people that were “HIS” and I was left as the one who gave up and abandoned him, leaving him a hot mess.  Live and learn, but had I not left, I would have been the hot mess with no support system via those I thought were closest to me.  When I left and headed 45 minutes away to stay with my sister, my best friend and her husband became his sitters.  The realization that we were done, took a huge toll on him, I will probably never know how much, because I didn’t care to find out…he made his bed.  I quickly realized that once I left the realm of that relationship, I left all that I knew.  I didn’t hear from her for days, when prior we had seen each other at least 3-4 times a week, shopping, hanging out, visiting, movies/dinner at home.  When I did talk to her she was busy, or just didn’t answer, and told me once that “we had to take him to the hospital, he had no one.”  Well, gee, I wonder why he has no one?  Could it be that he was attempting to meet another woman while he was married?  Maybe she can come take care of him?  My initial thought was that my friend was torn, and didn’t want to choose sides, when in fact, it came out months later in her own words “what am I supposed to do, he’s my husband’s boss?” So, there is where that 17 year friendship ended.  I had become concerned about information reaching my ex, via what else? Facebook.  So I sent her a message and asked if I had anything to worry about since her husband and he worked together.  She acted appalled that I would suggest it.  I had been in the office with both of them, and know for a fact that the FB of one, was not off limits to the other.  Since he was her husband (and my husband has full access to my FB), I knew that if he had her password, then my ex could easily get info.  I was completely justified asking her because on 2 occasions I had him show his ass by sending me a message and commenting on things.  I had narrowed our “joint” friends on FB down to 3 people.  I am still friends with 2 of them and I simply needed to hear that she was not going to allow that type of behavior.  The message I got instead was one of disbelief and support for him.  She unfriended me and to this day, we haven’t spoken.  Needless to say, since that day over 6 months ago, I haven’t heard from him once.

The divorce and weeks leading up to it turned his entire family, against me.  While he was calling my family to try to aid him in reconciling, and my friends were consoling him…his family was cutting ties.  I again thought it was that they had to support him, no matter what, in our 9 year relationship, I had that pounded into my head by his mom.  We are a family, we stick together…she really meant that, I should have listened.   Apparently, even wrong, blood is thicker than love.  I had said it many times to friends that had it not been for his mom, I would have bailed on the relationship long before we even got married.  She was an amazing woman, and as I said earlier, when my mom passed, she immediately stepped in and took that role in my life.  I will always be thankful for what she did for me.  I am still shocked and sad that not only did her son ruin a marriage, but he took away the family that I was forced to embrace.

I recently started talking to my sister-in-law (ex), who I guess is now just a friend…I used to say to her, “I need to talk to you as a friend, not my sister.”  Funny how that works out.  She and I talked for a few weeks via email and just recently chatted on FB and I smiled and enjoyed the whole conversation.  Aside from catching up on each others lives, it was normal, it flowed, it was not at all tense.  It was refreshing to know that to true friends time lost doesn’t mean you lose anything.  I look forward to becoming as we once were, which was laughing, jokes, love, advice and more.  I am more than thankful to have her back in my life in whatever capacity.

In just under 2 years I’ve lost a (bad) marriage,  a sister, a mother, and a close friend.  I don’t fight for things that don’t want to be fought for.  There is no use.  As with anything, if you’re the only one fighting to keep it…you’re going to be the only one holding it there.  My sister can tell you, I have no issue “cutting” things out that are unhealthy (just ask her about my aunt), or that I don’t agree with.  Didn’t say I was right to do it, but I have no second thoughts about it.  I learned early that life is short and I don’t have time for BS, toxic people are just that.  If you want to deal with it, then go for it, I won’t be.  It’s also very freeing to let someone know that the train has stopped, and I don’t have to stay on it.   I’ll continue to live like this, because for me, it has proven to be effective and eliminate a ton of stress and drama.

So, we are current on friendships, or the main ones I have.  I haven’t even mentioned my friends that I look to in daily life.  Ones that I knew when I was younger and have reconnected with, some that I hold certain hobbies or interests with, and those that I know through other people.  It is a blessing to have such a diverse pool to choose from now that I am not limited to someone else’s friends.

Let’s talk about my best friend now, it’s not any of the people I spoke about earlier.  It is my “newest” friend, yet the one who knows as much as all the others combined.  It would be no problem for them to speak to any of my lifelong friends, sisters or family about me and know what they were talking about.  He has learned more, asked more, heard more, and listened to more than any of them.  He’s not trying to one up anyone, but he truly has become the closest person to me.  In most friendships, you give some and get some…you’re there to enjoy the good times and balance out the bad.  I always thought that best friends were for outside of marriage, you know, to talk about the marriage with…I have never been in a relationship with someone that was my best friend.  Good, bad, right, wrong, he knows it all, yet still loves me and lives every day to get to know me more and for us to be support for each other.  I have again been blessed with an amazing family (through D) and have again gained a mother figure.  No one can replace my mom, but a girl/woman always needs a strong, loving woman to talk to, and I am blessed to have been given that twice now, aside from my own mother.  D’s mom has taken me on just as my ex’s did and if you didn’t know we’d been married for just over a year, you’d never guess it by how she and I talk.  She is truly a blessing.

Those that are in our lives, whether it’s for a day, or for years  are definitely there for a reason.  Some are to teach us what love is, some are to teach us about ourselves and some are to bring us to others we haven’t even met yet.  Those we lose, whether to death or the death of a friendship are to be thanked for all it is they brought to our lives after they are no longer in it.

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Big Daddy does it again:)

I feel like I don’t know when I’m going to blog next because I have so much going through my head.  None of it bad, or pressing issues.  I could blog about my birthday, V-day, knitting, baby J, my daughter J, Big Daddy, life, work (that doesn’t sound fun), things that bother me (I already did that and I don’t want this to be a soapbox type of blog, but sometimes it’s just necessary).  I think this is what they call writers block, but since I don’t consider myself a writer I wouldn’t know.

I have not been a very good blog buddy…sorry ladies.  I guess I just haven’t found something that’s made me stop and HAVE to write about it.  Life has been good, got lots of presents for my bday/vday (separate presents, I hate combo gifts).

I just upped the cuteness factor by 10

The kids are all thriving, and the dogs – we got a new one to add to the madness, they are all happy and sleeping through the night (and have learned what a bark collar does).  I don’t have much to blog about besides how great things are, and that is enough to write about for a while, but I don’t want to take time out of the greatness to sit here and write about it.

I’ll leave you with this promise for more.  My sister and I were talking the other morning in an unplanned 7 am FB chat, which was absolutely awesome, and something that was bothering her had also been an issue for me and another friend of ours all at different times in the last few weeks.  I mentioned that I was going to blog about it, since it seems that it’s common and unwanted (the issue, not my blog :P).

Stay tuned for a possible rant, because if I other people can speak freely…then so can I.

~Mel

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Today was 41 years since my sister (click that for her blog) was born.  Every year my momma used to call us on our birthday and say “this time ____ years ago, I was in labor/giving birth/holding you for the first time/screaming in pain/drugged up”…insert whatever sentiment she was feeling that year.

Every year we used to laugh and guess what she was going to say to us, and every year we enjoyed and waited for that call.  My sister hasn’t had that call in 4 birthdays.  Next month is my birthday and it will be 5 birthdays without that call.  Mom passed between our birthdays and on my daughters birthday Jan 24.

I didn’t plan to do a post tonight, or plan to bring up mom, but my sister deserves something for how amazing she is, and she deserves to be celebrated.   I can’t possibly cover how much I love her or how much she does for me and has done over the years.  To me she has been a big sister, protector, mother and my best friend since I was born.  Urs, I love you dearly, and am proud to be your little sister.

Taken Jan 2006 – Mom and My sister.

This time 41 years ago, you were in mom’s arms.  How lucky were  you?

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So we’re a week in now…and I’m posting my first blog of the year.  Today was the day for the tree to come down, and truth be told Big Daddy took it down in about 5 minutes time.  I think had it stayed up any longer he would have divorced me early next week.  He’s a patient, loving man, but there is a limit to everyone’s holiday spirit.

In my defense, I’ve  (we’ve) been a little busy.  I didn’t really post much through Thanksgiving and Christmas because I wanted to enjoy the holidays.  Then I got a rash (which is like 2 weeks of explaining  in itself), had to deal with life and kids and ex’s that have nothing better to do than create drama, had family visit, which was AWESOME, went to the ER (on NYE – first time for that), had insomnia for about 3 weeks on meds and still do (which I could have blogged everynight because of that), and well, that’s enough to keep you busy right?

It’s like the Indians and the Pilgrims coming together – only we all color coordinated!

All in all, this year has smoothly transitioned over from last year.  I don’t like change too much, or too fast, or weird, so plans and normalcy is a good thing.

I do plan to blog more often and about things that matter, or things that matter to me to vent and keep my sanity.  I hear that my rash may be a stress reaction – and to that I say HA!  I have no stress!  I’d be lying, but it sounded good.

Stress creeps up on us all, holidays, bills, work, kids, ex’s, family, life, no matter how happy, well adjusted, dying to be unstressed you are, it will find you, and if you choose to ignore it, it will talk louder (and show up as a full body rash for no apparent reason).

I hope you had a great holiday season, and even though the holidays are over, I’m still very excited that it’s winter and we have more snow forecast this week!

What’s keeping you busy?  Stressed?  Have you blogged every day?  (C’mon, make me feel better and reply!)

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I like to think I’m fairly forgiving of myself.  If I weren’t I’d be more concerned about how others perceive me.  I really don’t care about things like that, as long as I can sleep at night, it doesn’t matter.  So, this one is a little hard.

If I’m honest, there’s not many things I’d change that I’ve done in my life.  I may change how I handled a situation, or in hindsight my reaction to someone or something, but overall there’s only one thing I feel totally guilty about.  It’s a little odd though, because even though I feel guilty, I can rationalize it all day long.

Side note: I just realized this is my second mention of this (in 3 posts) since I started this 30 day thing…which is a huge statement to myself how much I really dwell on it, and how much it has affected my life.

My mom and me:)

The day my mom died I woke up with a sore throat, cold, fever.  I still went to work, and as I’ve stated before just kept on trucking, because she was way sicker than I was.  It was very normal for me to just keep on going even before she was in the hospital.  I’d reserve my sick days for the kids to be out of school.   By the time I left work at 3:30 and headed down to the hospital I was losing my voice, and had to wear a mask to go visit her so I didn’t get her sick(er).  Around 6-7 that night, we had spoken with her doctors, and had decided that she had been through enough, at her request all outside testing, poking, prodding, guessing was done.  She was only to be made comfortable, with medicine, and allowed to rest peacefully without being constantly bugged.  My sister left to get a shower and clean up since I was feeling ill, she decided to stay with mom through the night, which was the plan anyways since she was there from out of town.  Around 9 pm Ursula left, and I was hanging with mom, she was watching tv off and on, and telling me to eat cough drops in between her dozing off and me coughing and waking her up.  At 10 pm, she looked at me and said “Pam and Terry (longtime friends) are going to come up since they are in town for their anniversary, they’ll be here any minute, you go home and get some rest.”  I argued with her, that I could wait until they got there, or until Ursula got back, which was supposed to be any moment now.  I steadily argued and told her I’d be fine, 1 hour wasn’t going to hurt…then I lost my voice completely.  She lifted her head up and said “go home.”  So I did.  She promised me she would be fine.  She lied.

I can’t at all blame her.  It’s not like it was new information that she was that bad off.  To explain how we all dealt with it, we had many conversations, my sister, myself and mom, that there was to be no “visiting us from beyond” or haunting us or anything of the like.  She was informed that neither one of us wished to see her again once she was gone.  We also had a VERY stern talk with her that she was not allowed to die on my daughter’s birthday…my mom’s mom died the day after my birthday.  She assured us she would do no such thing.   That night at around midnight, my sister was with my mother, and things started to go downhill.  I was at home asleep, as ordered, and around 2 am the phone rang.  I didn’t even answer it, I knew.  She did it…she died without me there, and on J’s birthday.  She was right “you’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

So…my something is I have to forgive myself for not being there, for myself, for my mom, and for my sister, who we both promised we wouldn’t leave the other there to deal with her actual passing alone.  I should have.  I was there every day before that day.  I had made it without sleep, or little sleep, without food, or hospital food, bored, concerned, all of it.  But sick I couldn’t do.  I have thought that maybe God knew I couldn’t handle it, or that I’d handle it better if I weren’t there.  I don’t even know that I’ve handled it after this long.  In the end, I listened to my mom…who was still being a mom (from her hospital bed) and telling me what to do and to take care of myself, even at the end of her life.

~Mel

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I’m already behind on this.  So let’s not waste anymore time on pointing out what I hate about myself.  I swear, they aren’t playing with this “truth” crap.

Here’s the thoughts going through my head right now (I’m about to prove how ADD I am):

  • What do I hate about me
  • This is going to kill the self confidence I try to convey
  • My “I don’t give a crap what you think” attitude is gone
  • That Eminem picture D just showed me is hot
  • I hate the headache I’ve had for 4 days
  • I hate folding laundry (Thank God D folds it most of the time), I also hate putting it away…I bet he’s noticed
  • He’s amazing
  • I hate that I have lots of cute clothes and I usually end up in Pj’s or jeans
  • Shrek is perfect for Fiona
  • I hate that I just sat here after typing “I hate” and watched 5 minutes of Shrek

Alright.  I don’t really hate too much about myself.  I mean, yes, I whine about cellulite, of which I’m told I have none, but I know what it looks like and it’s creepin’ up on me.  I hate that I have black hair and the greys are taking over.  I hate that my skin is doing weird things that it’s never done before I lived in NC.  I hate that I am more “Roseanne” than “Rachel Ray/Martha Stewart/Betty Crocker.”  But those are all things that I just deal with, I’m not in a deep depression or trying to actively change those.  I’m also not a person that sits around thinking about what I hate about myself.  I’m more on the “this sucks” and then moving on track.  I also have the support of someone that dismisses my insecurities the moment they are voiced by telling me how crazy I am to even mention something like the dimple on my thigh…he loves everything about me, so there is no need for me to be down on myself.  I also have pretty good self esteem, and always have.

Which brings me to what I really do hate about myself.   It’s also going to be the first time I really have put it out there to people other than those that know me well.  So, here goes, I’m not perfect – and here’s why.

 

Don't be fooled...I'm not alone:)

 

When my mom passed away 3.5 years ago I was go, go, go, working, picking up kids, going to the hospital to be with mom, cooking dinner, and sleeping for 4 hours and getting up and doing it all over.  I did that for about a month.  The day she died, I got sick, double ear infection, bronchitis, and strep.  It was not fun.  I think I just ran myself into the ground because, she was the one in the hospital bed sick, and what right did I have to say I was tired, or I wasn’t feeling well, or I needed rest?  So, she was gone, and I lost my job because I took off an extra day to “grieve” which was actually a doctor ordered day because I was still sick.  That was the beginning of my finding a way to work entirely from home.

After about a month, things started to take a weird turn.  I had no desire to be in the corporate world, I didn’t miss the cute clothes and shoes.  I was very happy staying at home, seeing the kids off to the bus, hanging out with my dogs, having coffee (tea) with the neighbors and being home when the kids got off the bus, cooking dinner etc.  It was nice.  It was calm, and different and what I needed.  I had lost my desire to make lots of money and found the desire to be a mommy again – not that I lost it, it was just overshadowed by the desire to “contribute” to the household.

About  month later, I got sick and was put on an antibiotic, which after years of wondering where this all started, I think the medicine has a tad to do with it.  The antibiotic has numerous warnings for those that are predisposed to anxiety, depression, and abnormal fears and phobias (I found this out AFTER taking it)…enter me.  I’ve had Anxiety attacks/Panic attacks for years.  They started when my youngest was a baby, I’d wake up shaking and zooming around the house at 3 am unable to relax or sit, thinking I was cold and I’d put on more clothes and get back in bed…and sleep through the rest of it.  It wasn’t until I told my sister what was going on and she said “yeah, that’s an anxiety attack” – thanks, I was doing good not knowing.  So, here I am, totally moving along in life for 8 years dealing with the occasional anxiety attack, and then mom dies, and then I’m on this medicine that basically kick starts you into these things.  Day 2 of meds, I was driving and felt dizzy…pulled over and called my then husband and said “I’m a mile from home, I can’t drive, and I don’t know what’s wrong” – his answer “I can’t do anything, I have to pick up a game.”  Gee, thanks asshole.  So, I sat there, freaking out, 1 mile from home, for about 20 minutes.  I called my neighbor and begged her to come get me.  She was there in 1.5 minutes.  Since that day, I have driven alone 3 times.  Once 2 months later to pick Cody up from school, and you can ask my sister, I sat in the driveway crying, begging her on the phone to tell me I could just go inside and not have to be in my car.  She talked to me the entire 3 mile drive and I stayed quiet, crying and driving.  The second time was driving home from Wed night youth group where I dropped Cody and his friends off, that was a 2 mile trip, and on the way home I called my sister again and told her how proud I was of myself.  These trips were over 3 years ago.  The last time was February this year when D called and said he had arrived from NC and had pulled into my sisters subdivision…that motivation is self-explanatory.  Every time we pass the spot I still remember me stepping out of the car, and him stepping out of the truck.   Grrrrr baby.

So, as you can see…it’s a huge impact on my life.  I hate it. With a passion.  I can’t drive alone.  Surprised?  Eh, it’s not a huge deal.  I’m thankful I have found a man who can live with it.  I feel like one day I might drive alone again.  I might not.  I hate it enough that I’ve read books, prayed HARD, begged, searched online, told myself it’s stupid, told myself it’s normal.  It’s not going anywhere.  Just as easily as that switch was turned on, one day it will turn off.  In the meantime, I’ve adjusted life to fit what I can and cannot do.  Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass, but sometimes it’s not even an issue.  Lots of people don’t like things, can’t do things, freak out at things.  This just happens to be mine.  I’ve also learned that the driving alone thing has spawned the not being alone at all thing, which is a whole other post.  I don’t know which one started which.  I think it was the driving thing first.

So, what I hate about myself is that I can’t drive alone and I don’t know how to make the paralyzing fear go away.

When I read some of the other things people have posted for this “Day 1” deal, I’m happy that mine is something that isn’t physical.  It’s not my hips, or my chest, or my nose…all of which I would have altered a little if it were free, safe and not against my husband’s wishes.  He prefers me the way I am, which is another reason I love him.

~Mel

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They might be little, but they have a big grip on me!

I miss them.  I have been working all day, taking care of the girls, cooking dinner, looking for things online, helping other people with stuff, keeping myself occupied, fighting off a 3 day migraine, yet all day I can’t help but think of how much I miss them.  I think that was a run-on sentence, but it’s my blog so it’s ok.

The “them” I miss isn’t just the lips and toes that I’ve been kissing and watching and playing with and staring at while they sleep.  The “them” is everything that came with those lips and toes.  The cries, coos, burps, smiles, poots, dirty diapers, quiet moments staring at me, his best friend the ceiling fan, his smell (cookies, Johnson’s, and yum was how I explained it on my Facebook), I miss it all.

I didn’t realize how much I missed all things baby until he showed up last Friday.  I hadn’t seen him for a month, and had only seen him for a day a month ago, but when he got here, and I held him, it was like he knew me and I knew I was toast.  My house is now quiet, there are no diapers, toys, blankets, bottles, socks, Goodnight Moon, nose sucker…none of that.

My sister made the statement “There will be moments in each of our lives in which we are forced to let go of something that we wish to hold tightly with both hands.” I agree that it’s hard to send your children off and feel good that you raised them right and they can take care of themselves, but it’s so much harder to do that when they have one of their own to take care of too!

I can’t wait until they are back, and I can see him daily, and hold him.  Once they move here later this month, the balance of being able to have our own space, and enjoy baby time (and send him home for a little while) is going to be wonderful.  But until then, I miss the lips and fingers.

~Mel

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