Ingorance is Bliss?

DQ is a smart little girl, sometimes I think she is too smart for her own good (definitely smart enough to keep me on my toes). She is the product of a relationship long ago since over and her bio-father isn't really in the picture. She's always known about him, the little I would tell her but she's never had any real interaction with him, no actual interaction at all aside from a phone call or two that stopped a long time ago. I say all this, not to paint the man in a bad light, but to merely set the premise for the conversation that ensues...


DQ: I am the only one with a different last name (upon hearing me refer to us as the 'Kel' family)
Me: Not true, I have both your last name AND daddy's last name.
DQ: but why am I different?
Me: Well, mommy married daddy so she took his last name and Little Miss and Jr were daddy's children so they got his last name and you, you're special you got mommies last name because she wasn't married to daddy when you were born. If you want daddies last name, we can do that. DQ: Yeah, I want to be just like the family.
Me: Ok, but that means that Mr. 'Donor' is no longer apart of it, you would only have 1 daddy.
DQ: oh, well then never mind, I don't want to give up Mr. Donor.
ME: Why?
DQ: Because Mr. Donor gave me a doll (which is now buried amongst her other gazillion stuffed animals)
Me: Hum, but daddy gave you a bike, what about that?
DQ: Yeah, but he didn't give me a doll.
Me: Right, but daddy gave you a computer and games and scooters and (the list is endless)
DQ: Ok, I know and those things are great.
Me: But .... you don't even know Mr. Donor....you don't even get to see Mr. Donor.
DQ: I know. Why is that?
Me: Well, its complicated and I don't really have an answer for that.
DQ: I know...its because he's really busy.
Me: Really busy? (insert long silent pause) Well, let me ask you...do you think it's ok?
DQ: Yes, he's busy mom.
Me: Really? What if mom ignored you when she was 'really busy' is that ok? What if dad ignored you when he was 'really busy?' Is that ok?
DQ: No, ya'll can't ignore me...ya'll love me.
Me: Yes, but its ok for Mr. Donor to ignore you?
DQ: Um...no, I guess not. Does that mean that Mr. Donor doesn't love me?
Me: Well....I'm not saying that, its just......complicated.

I love my daughter and I would do anything in my power to keep her from being hurt, but its tough. I have never explained the circumstances of how this nonexistent relationship came to be because she is too young and honestly, it has no bearing on things thus far. I've been able to push off the questions with simple answers of 'He's far away' or 'He's busy' and she's moved on from that subject until now....now I will not accept those answers.

These were the answers I provided many years ago, not the answers he provided, because honestly, he didn't provide any. But there comes a point, in this realm of parenting where empty answers do not suffice because in essence, what we say is what we teach our children. What I accept in my own life, my child learns as OK, what her mother says is the reasoning and allows it to be ok in their life...the child learns to accept as an answer as well.

I had never thought saying "He's busy" would ever be an answer and the logic to her reasoning, perhaps an excuse, but never an answer. I would hope I'm teaching my child that excuses are not answers and excuses are not acceptable, but obviously I have miscalculated just how many excuses I have allowed to be taken as answers.

Obviously, I have a lot more parenting to do, because ignorance - is NOT bliss.

Do you accept excuses as answers or do you seek the truth, no matter the cost?

Back to Basics

When I started blogging 4 years ago, that home was my outlet. I didn't do it for comments. I didn't do it for visitors, I didn't pay attention to site hits. I didn't publicize to my friends and family what I did and I did not give the world proof that it was Me and not just someone who resembled me.

What I did however was speak honestly and from the heart. I talked about what bothered me and while I didn't name drop, everything I wrote then was real and raw. That site is now closed.

A year ago, I decided to move homes and thus began CafeKel, my home where no longer was I struggling with fear of what the future was going to hold, but instead I decided to publicly 'find' myself. Accepting the past for what is was and deciding to go forward and change the things about me I didn't like and improve the things about me that I did like.

I started reading the 'big' name bloggers, I started looking at hit counts and visitors and I wanted comments. Seriously, how else am I supposed to improve me without outside input? All the things "Blogger Success" internet searches brought up became my mantra. Random erratic posting stopped. I ventured outside my comfort zone and began commenting. I put a face to my name and I told friends and family.

In the beginning, I still wrote what I thought, with more structure and more thought, but as more people found out what I did the more I wrote words that were not published. The more my statistics showed my neighbors visiting the more I ventured from 'raw' me into comical anticdotes my children provided. Don't get me wrong, everything I wrote was me, but sometimes it was a bland, diluted version of me.

Even with the less 'in your face' kind of posts, I managed to find my words thrown in my face from someone I had let get close and it hurt. Everything going forward became calculated and MY voice became muted where the things I said were merely actions in a play unfolding around me, until I found myself viewing the daily task of posting as merely an unrewarding chore. I questioned why I did this, who really cared if I did it or not and if perhaps, with life taking the turns it has, if my family wouldn't be better off if I stopped.

In the end....

I enjoy writing. I enjoy the friendships I've made. I look forward to the give and take, the difference of opinions and the amazing, unconditional human spirit I've seen unfold when 'one of us' is in need.

What I don't like is how much I've let myself be silenced for fear of how it would be used against me in the future. Fear - letting myself be dictated by it ... again. Fear - letting it take away the pleasure in the little things.

So....Something's gotta give. I'm making some changes and while I would never intentionally want to hurt someone, sensoring myself out of 'fear' is not where I want to go with this blog....its time to get back to my roots.

Helpless

I feel SMALL.

I feel VERY tiny.

I feel HELPLESS.

POWERLESS to do anything to get results.

I'm stuck between wanting to put on my tall 'Mom Boots,' step all in their crap and demand answers until I get what I want (even though I am NOT their mother)

&

Wanting to be patient, understanding, be their 'friend' and just wait until the time comes when I am needed.

I feel LOST.

I feel like I'm waiting for the phone to ring (as soon as I let my guard down) and someone is going to tell me "I'm sorry to tell you this, but..."

I fear this the MOST.

Even though I know this happens, it is life - we are born and we die - I am not ready to lose someone close to me and yet, I cannot get it out of my head.

When asked, "Do you think they would give up?" I am mostly afraid - they already have.

Don't let today pass you by...

Forgiveness...I've come this far

January 11, 2008 I posted the following entry below on my old blog, the first of 5 resolutions for this year...

It's been a few days since I posted, I'm not sure why it has been so hard - it just seems that I can't find the words to express my thoughts lately. There have been so many of them since the start of the new year and many times I have started to post, but stopped only to find myself writing a jumbled mess. Even today it seems this too will turn out that way, but just maybe this process will help me begin to sort it all out.

I don't know if it is my need to have a new years resolution that has sent me down the path of my past, if having all the emotional/hormonal stuff that comes with having a new baby, or if it is cosmic fate that is leading me to re-exam my past, but I have been dealing with some of the things that I never really let go of before. I know that during the "growing-up" process we learn to make choices, we learn who we are and what we stand for, but what happens if during those crucial years you never learn those things...what if all you learn is how to deal? How to deal with pain. How to deal with rejection. How to substitute fake for real and find alternate methods of love when life makes you feel as if you never had any? I believe the growing process never stops, but somewhere inside me I had started to believe that I had become grown and was just tweaking who I was.

I look at my past and try desperately to figure out who I was then, but even now there is no clear answer. I was a lot of things, the only thing I know for sure is that I was searching for something that seemed so elusive, that I just started to accept anything in its place. I wasn't a bad person, I did have some confused ideals at the time, but I wasn't bad. I wanted to be loved. Even now I struggle with the need to be loved...not that I am not loved, I guess truth is I have a hard time accepting love or letting myself be loved.

Why was it so hard for me? When did it start? Where does this feeling come from? Those are the questions I wish I had answers for, but I don't. It scares me because I would never want my daughters to feel the way I did. About 15 years ago I started to wonder down a path, I was damaged and broken and didn't even know it. I struggled at every turn trying to cover the issue, fix me, but I never knew I was broken. About 4 years later I met someone who touched my life and helped me believe in myself again. It was brief, but the impact was immeasurable. Truth be told, I slid down hill a bit and as fate would have it, this same person came back into my life and helped me get it back together. They restored my faith in me and I never even knew it was happening. Despite this, I had never worked thru some of the issues I had, I never healed my wounds...I only covered them up and hoped like hell they would go away, but they didn't.

Recently words were spoken that had a profound effect on me. Just a few simple words sent me right back to those moments, ripped the old wounds open and left me feeling helpless. I struggled with the belief this could happen, of course not - that was such a long time ago, it is impossible. Not true. I have revisited those memories and I don't want to feel that way again, I don't want to be able to be controlled by them. After many days of contemplation, I am ready to forgive myself for my faults, for my shortcomings, and for my failures. I want to let go and move on so that those wounds can heal.

Resolution 1: Forgive and let go

Even now as I look back on the year I can remember vividly where I was at that moment and all that I was feeling, struggling with. In an effort to make good on this resolution I set out with good intentions and read a few books, wrote open letters and focused on why I was so hurt after all this time. Now as 2008 comes to a close, here is what I learned.

Forgiveness is something only YOU can give YOURSELF.

To the person who taught me "love hurts" - I forgive all the wrong doing on both our parts. I was too young to truly understand and I let you manipulate me for your own gain and then make me believe it was my fault. While you were the first real 'emotion' I let myself feel, you were not the last, and I thank god every day I am still here today.

To the person who taught me "relationships don't last" - I forgive us. I forgive us for so much of what we did to each other that left such an imprint on me as to what 'relationships' are like. Not every relationship is a failure waiting to happen.

To the person who taught me "to question my confidence" - I forgive. Not by words but purely actions did you manage to convey this lesson and I have hated you for a long time. Belief in myself can be freely given at anytime and the time is now.

To the person who taught me "I am selfish" - I forgive me. You gave so much and I took it all when in the end I could only give a little, I am sorry. I will never be able to tell you how much you did for me, but no longer do I need to carry the shame in knowing what I did was wrong.

To the person who taught me "dare to dream" - I am forever grateful. We've fought many battles and while the war may not be won, I know that with you in my corner anything is possible. You give me strength to be better than I was today and for that Thank you.

To Give

Belle of the Blog is having a most awesome giveaway on her blog that is in keeping with the spirit of the holidays...the spirit of giving. Inspired by Ferrero Chocolate and Share Our Strength, to enter, one must post about an act of kindness they've received and why it touched their lives. I've been fortunate enough to have many angels in my life along the way, but there is one who has a special place in my heart and here's why.

My very first year of college was a difficult one, partly because I was coming out of a difficult time in my life and partly because, well teen years are just plain difficult. I graduated high school and immediately started college, living in the dorm and struggling to make ends meet, I soon found myself working a job at the local mall. I had never worked retail before, but I was in the company of some really amazing ladies and I loved every minute of it. Months went by and I became friends with R who introduced me to her brother Woody. Both R and Woody were older than I and a lot more together than I was so when I found myself homeless, due to the closing of dorms for Christmas break, they opened their home to me.

That winter Woody became like the brother I never had, we talked and he was interested in my thoughts...nothing like the other guys who were interested in anything but my thoughts. Remember I mentioned I wasn't in the best place in my life and due to other circumstances I needed to move out of the dorms(permanently), only problem was I didn't have anyone I could move in with and I needed 1st and last months rent to move into an apartment, money I did not have. After a few weeks of spending time with Woody he offered to give me the money for the down payment on one condition, that I agree to help someone else along the way when I have my act together.

It's easy to look at this little story and see that what he did was perhaps not such a grand gesture, but in truth, it had a bigger impact than he could have known. At that point in my life I was teetering on the edge of a cliff and if I'd have fallen off, there would have been no return. Woody, a guy who barely knew me, took a chance on me. He challenged me to be better than I was at that moment in my life and while I could have just as easily taken the money and ended up a much different person, the fact that he believed in me was enough to give me the courage to step away from the edge of that cliff and get my life back on track.

Woody moved shortly after that christmas and I have not heard from him since then, but I still think fondly of this guy who took a chance on me.

Has someone inspired you with an act of kindness?

Dear Lost

Dear Lost,

You called the other day and after many 'unanswered' calls I finally picked up. The conversation had been played in your head many times, only this time it wasn't your script that you were hearing, but the silence on the other end of line - silence that mirrored how empty I felt as I listened to you talk.

What was wrong with me? I usually have so much to say in return, the words of wisdom, the antics to lighten the mood and make it all seem better than it really is - my ability to find the silver lining hiding within that dark, monsterous cloud.

I had none.

Instead as I listened to you talk, listened to you go on about how bad things were, how terribly wrong everything had gone in your life - there was no empathy, no sympathy - nothing but the hard, cold anger coming from somewhere deep within. Some place I did not even realize had give birth to such bitterness.

I knew, some time ago, things were going down for you and I could not face how I felt - I could not pretend to smile in the face of it all, so I stepped back and just stopped. Over and over in your life, time after time, again and again you have faced this same crap - it seems to always be just around the next corner and when life starts to get better, you manage to find your share of crap hiding under a rock.

I tried with you - I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, I tried to support you because that is what I thought I was supposed to do, but one day you took that away from me. In an instant, your blind rage ripped the rose colored glasses off my face and left me hurt and humiliated. I have never fully forgiven you for that day. It is this seed that has grown over time, this tiny little speck of nothing that has turned into so much more. It was this action that has found the equal and opposite reaction of today.

I know all too well just how difficult this time of year is for people, how lonely it can be. I do not know if you hoped I would open my doors to you - welcome you into the warmth of my world to shelter you from the storm now brewing in your own, but I did not. A mere passing thought, as I listened to you talk that in the end was met with three solitary words.

I. Am. Sorry.

I am sorry for all that you have gone thru. I am sorry for all the pain in your life. I am sorry that you chose to make bad choices when you felt you had none other to make. I am sorry that you feel so alone with so many around you. I am sorry I cannot, no, will not, give more to you than what I can give at this moment.

I Love you from the depths of my soul and it is because of this that I can only say I am sorry. We all must find our way, carve our path, and lie in the bed of choices we have made. Those were your choices to make and now I too must do what is best for me and my family. Choices I do not know if you understand yet, but hopefully one day you will.

I know you love me too - it is evident in the way you put on a brave front when I did not respond as you had hoped. Evident because you did not ask, even though you know I would have a hard time saying No. Evident because you have chosen to move forward as best you know how.

The time will come when my anger subsides and it is all right again. The time will come when I can give more of myself to you, more energy, more sympathy, more of what you need. The time will come - it always does.

Only in Time,
~K

Holiday Memories

When the weather turns, the air gets crisp and fall comes to a close, I find myself fumbling thru memories of my childhood. Time has clouded much of the early years, but there are things that have left lasting impressions on me to this day.

One thing I remember most clearly was the smells. My mother was a homemaker and she was always crafting something, but this time of year brought about tamales, which are a staple where I grew up. Tamales are a very time consuming process - it takes HOURS to cook the meat (pork, chicken , beef) and then season it to perfection. Masa must be made, corn husks must be soaked, the tamales must then be assembled and rolled just so and then the finished product needs to be steamed for a few more hours. Dozens upon dozens would be made, sorted and wrapped for delivery during the holidays and these were primarily only made during the 'cooler' months in hell (november/december.) Each day I would arrive home from school to find pots of meat on the table, steamers on the stove full of tamales and my mother covered in masa as she continued to make more. The house would be warm from the cooking going on in the kitchen (no we did not have central heat back then, only a little space heater) and you could smell the food long before you even opened the front door.

I may not live that far south, but this is a tradition I have brought with me wherever I go. Just a few weeks ago I cooked up a batch of tamales for the family and friends - it was so very time consuming, but so yummy too. The change of seasons just makes me want to cozy up in the kitchen and cook.

Another memory I smile at during this time of year is the decorating for the holidays. I can remember the day after Thanksgiving going out in the garage and digging out all the boxes of christmas stuff. Decorations (mismatched and mostly handmade), multicolored christmas lights that played music for the tree, patchwork quilts, cross-stiched wall decorations and tinsel by the handfuls would be spread about the house in hopes of brightening everyones spirits.

Outside I would loveingly adorn our 'Lone' tree and massive bush with strands of lights from years past. Some would blink, some would stay solid, some were 'tiny twinkle' lights and some were the old school 'screw in light bulbs.' Rarely was anything uniform, it was typically som type of incoherant christmas mess, but it was as festive as a childs imagination could make it.

One of my more funny decorating memories is the year I decided to decorate my fathers 1976 Chevy Pickup truck that took up permanent residence curbside in front of our house. This truck had easily lived thru better years and my father would not part with it. It was loud (could hear him coming down the road 6 blocks away) had an am radio, windows that didn't always roll down (manual crank) and often times did not want to start. That season, it found itself parked and I decided (in my youthful wisdom) that it should be decorated. So I tied ribbons and bows to it, wreaths to the front and back, garland (cheap, non weather resistant garland) along the sides and then took shoe polish and wrote "Merry Christmas" upon the windows. It was definitely a sight to behold...but one thing about my parents is that they never said a word.

The memories I have are more than items bought for me - they are experiences that I was fortunate enough to have. Childhood goofiness I was able to relish in and little moments that have stuck with me thru the good and bad. I look back now and realize that while there weren't family traditions instilled in me(singing christmas carols around the tree), fancy family vactions to look forward to each year, or expensive presents to adorn the tree - my holiday memories are none the less happy. Yes, perhaps there are those memories that have been tarnished with time and perhaps still, some have been broken or lost - but I can say that the ones that meant the most to me have stuck with me thru the years and can be dusted off each time I need a smile. I just hope that I can help my own children to have the kind of memories they too will look back fondly on one day.

What is YOUR Holiday memory?

26.2 Lessons

I've planned this post for many months. I've spent countless hours rehearsing what I would say, imagining the profound marathon wisdom I would have to share with each and every one of you. At some point in my training, near the end - after a few REALLY long runs, I even imagined I would have some sort of humorous story with how all the pain and cold mornings were really worth every ounce of energy I put into it.

But, as I sit here everything that I imagined I would say falls flat.

I started this journey with an idea over 2 years ago and 1 year ago I put this idea into motion. I had no real idea what it would take to bring this tiny little dream to life, but I never thought it would be tough.

Running is not hard. You put one foot in front of the other until you find the end. Sometimes the end is just around the corner and sometimes the end is up a very steep hill, either way it's only a matter of continuing to move in a forward direction.

I made a plan, established where my weaknesses were and found a way to combat them with support, support I am so grateful to have had. I determined my goals and set out with every intention of fulfilling them, never doubting that I wouldn't. In the end I ran a race that consisted of 26.2 miles that eventually led to a finish line. I could give you a mile by mile recount of the miserable cold (hello 39 degrees), the St. Jude Children's faces (both living and not), the support from people running or just cheering us on, and even a finishing time that is no where near where I had originally planned on crossing the finish line at (yes, I completely overestimated my time,) but what I came to realize during that final run was much more that I ever thought possible.

On this journey, that seemed so grand - almost like 'who am I to dream the impossible' I learned that it is not impossible at all. Dreams are meant to be far reaching, to push the limits of what we know, to force us to stretch beyond what's comfortable. Dreams are not what break us, as I originally thought from the loss of a few of my own, but instead dreams are what help push us to be better than we are today.

A marathon is not about speed so much as it is endurance and for me, it was about the will to keep going when everything about that moment told me I wanted to quit. Life is like this sometimes. You see, we can train and prepare and plan for what we think lies ahead, but the truth is we don't really know what that moment will be like until we face it. In life we build off our past experiences in an attempt to repeat what went right and to learn from what went wrong. We all face a moment where we question what we believe or where we must decide to look ahead and let go of the past when all we know is the past we've held onto for so long. There are moments when the sun is shining and the band is playing and we think 'life doesn't get much better than this' only to find when we turn the corner at the next mile, we are alone in a cold wind fighting our way uphill. Its those moments when we must choose to continue to keep moving forward or we might never find our way to the end.

This past Saturday I found my end. I felt the spirit of love and hope for what 14000 people were committed to doing on that morning, I felt the pain and fear of defeat as I faced mile after mile mentally ready to throw in the towel and I felt the exhilaration that comes with crossing under the archway of balloons, greeted by the ones I love and knowing that I did it.

I started this journey as one woman only to find the woman I ended as, is so much more than I could've hoped for.

Home

A conversation took place between a myself and a friend that resulted in me making a statement that caught me by surprise.

The conversation was about someone else who had recently returned back to area they they spent a lot of time and energy trying not to live - the area considered 'home.' I responded with, "It's funny really, how much time we spend in our youth trying to get out only to find as we get older that it's not so bad after all and we want back in."

It may not sound like an odd statement, but for anyone who knows me (or reads this blog) you know that I refer to my home town affectionately as "hell." Hell - was the name I chose, not because it more often than not feels like it due to the weather and not so wonderful climate, not because its flat and half a year empty farmlands look sad and lonely, not because when at first observation - it looks as if the economy has forgotten about this part of the world - but because the memories I have growing up, growing into my own are my own personal hell.

I am a 'pleaser' - I like 'pretty' things and am most comfortable when calm and love fill the air(yes I know how strange that sounds). I did not live like this in hell - in fact, calm and love were there, but in bits and pieces. I was born and raised in this tiny town - where everyone knew everyone else's business, kids played randomly with neighbor kids all day long without a care and front doors were left unlocked to come and go as we pleased. There was not a movie theater or big restaurant in town - our nearest form of entertainment or mall was 45 minutes away so we took to entertaining ourselves in other 'not so productive' ways. (insert cow tipping here) I grew up in a small 2 bedroom home that I spent most of my school years in, with a couple of people I would consider my 'friends' and the rest people with whom I had to attend school and often times be the center of their gossip.

I wasn't a radical, I wasn't the bum, I wasn't the popular chick, I wasn't so many things - but I was me - a teenager trying to find her voice in a sea of so many others and unfortunately it is a dog eat dog world out there so when I finally got the chance to leave there, I packed what I could carry and was gone, vowing never to return.

Over a decade has passed since I 'lived' there, but I still visit because my family is there. My visits are brief and often haunted by things I'd rather not remember, but I find that as I get older, "home" is a little less painful and a little more of a place where I came from instead of a place I am trying to escape.

I've traveled many places in this great big world and I've realized that it really isn't so big after all. Yes, there are amazing places to see and little things that make it different from place to place, but 'home' is not what defines you but more a place that holds a piece of your foundation.

Home is where you hang your hat
or
Home is where the love is

have been quoted many times to fill the gap and my lack of feeling as if I had a home. Neither truly encompass what I feel, although the latter is still my favorite. Home, however, is my beginning, my start and yes, there is much about 'home' that made me who I am today. I am not ready to 'move back' to hell anytime soon, but I am ready to return home to visit instead of continuing to run away.

What does HOME mean to you?

My Start

October 16, REO Speedwagon was playing a concert a few hours away from the tiny town called Hell. That same day, a young girl sat under a tree, with a baby in her belly, furious she was not allowed to attend the concert she so desperately wanted to see for HER birthday. The young, soon-to-be first time mother was not happy, she turned to a bottle of alcohol and some prescription drugs to numb her pain, not realizing what was happening.

The morning came and with it so did her regularly scheduled doctors appointment. The girl, who was only a child, was intent on celebrating that day, her day...the day she had celebrated so many years before, as it was the day she was born, met the doctor eagerly wanting only to be done and to arrive at her own party.

She was told there would be no party, she was having a baby today and she would not be leaving. Disbelief filled the girls head as the dr explained she had been in labor for some time, but the previous cocktail of 'mood enhancers' had slowed the process. Soon the hospital was abuzz with the girls friends all excited and waiting to meet the newest addition to the group. Finally, just before the day was thru, a tiny bundle of pink met the world and the celebration began as both mother and daughter were joined on the same day.

There was much love that day and many days since then. I've been blessed by a very full life in such a short existance. Never fully grateful for the beginning I was given, but as I look into the faces of my own children - I know how much was given of that young girl that day and despite all that happened after that point, I'm here because of her.

So today is my day, but I also share my humble start with the woman who gave me life -
Happy Birthday!

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, your body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming,
"Woo hoo! What a ride!"

The hardest job...

...I've ever had is being a mother.

Every day I stop over at ABunsLife where her tag line "Trying not to mess my children up one day at a time" gives me a chuckle each day- it's humorous and yet so true.

You've heard me say this many times before, parenting should come with a handbook, but it doesn't. What we have is experiences from our own parents and those, perhaps, that we looked up to at one point in time to use as foundation for our own future families.

But what if we don't?

What if what we grow up with is a small sliver of right mixed in with a whole lot of wrong...how do we decipher what we should and/or should not be doing that will completely screw up our children? My situation is not the norm, so perhaps I struggle with this issue more often than others, but I try to make the best decisions I know how and yet, with just a few words...there are moments my daughter can rip it all out from under me and leave me feeling more vulnerable than I ever imagined any child could.

I was born to a teenage girl who's own mother was so consumed by depression and alcohol that she had stopped noticing her daughter, my biological mother - Mo. Mo, thought she could have a child who would love her and need her, I would be the thing to fill the missing void. Like many young teenagers, Mo's plan had a small flaw - someone would need to raise me, be there for me and take care of me. That someone role is usually reserved for the parent, but in this case, Mo was not ready for this responsibility.

Faced with a choice, Mo choose to give me up for adoption when I was about a year old. I was given to a family for what was thought to be a better life and I guess, by all accounts, it was. I had a mother and father and a sister - I was taken care of and loved, what more could I ask for, right?

For starters, I was a bit headstrong - my mother (adoptive) had her own issues and these two elements did not mesh well. I was raised with a firm hand, fairly strict rules and I learned early on that if these rules were broken, there would be punishment. One of the strongest memories I have is being told that when I was about 4 or 5 I looked at my mother and told her "I don't need you. I can take care of myself." Growing up, I thought it was quite funny every single time my mother would throw it in my face...now, while I realize it is a child talking and not understanding what she was saying, I can begin to see how this hurt my mother. You see, my mother had her own bowl of issues, mentally - the woman was not the most stable person. I don't ever doubt that she loved me, but I think she never quite understood how to be a mother, never quite knew how to show love.

My mother and I led a very strained relationship while I was growing up, my father often worked long hours and was rarely home, my sister was much older and had her own life. Eventually, my mother and I saw a difference of opinions for the last time and it was over. I moved out and I never spoke to her again. It's been over 10 years since I've seen or spoken to this woman and there are days when I often wonder what it was that was the straw that broke the camels back. What final incident was enough that I could walk away and never look back...even after all this time, never feel regret for leaving?

I didn't leave my family, just my mother and eventually we all left my mother. The interesting twist of this story is that even then I was searching for myself and at that time in my life, I thought the answers would lie in my birth line. I sought out Mo. I searched for my biological father - both of which I found. I had questions - some were answered and some I don't know if I'll ever have answers. Mo, is apart of my life today. She is apart of my children's lives - she is not my mother. She has no desire to be my mother, she is my friend. We are alike, in looks and in personality which I find terribly scary sometimes. Mo, choose to have another child a few years after me and as evident with him, she was still not quite ready to be a mother. Even today, a 40 year old woman will tell you she has yet to grow up. As for her mother, eventually she was overly consumed with her own problems and took her life, leaving everyone around her with questions and too few answers.

This is my history, my family legacy...for my children I want more - but I have no idea where to begin. I am a parent to my children, I am not their friend. Even though I love them fiercely I too, believe they should be taught right and wrong and consequences of their actions. This has led to many "I hate you's" or "You're a mean mommy." Just words - I try to remind myself, it stings a bit when they are thrown at me, but as time goes I feel them a little less each time. Then comes a day when my child looks at me as say's the unthinkable. In an instant my world flashes around me and while I know there is no merit to her words...she and only she has exposed me and left me feeling vulnerable and raw.

There are things I can moderately prepare for, things I know one day I will face because all mother/daughter relationships face these moments. There are things I am aware come with having children and teaching them to exert there Independence. There are many lessons I know are still yet to come, it is not these I fear...it's the ones I never thought would ever enter my world because I was going to make sure my child never felt the way I did.

Being a parent is not an easy job. It is by far the hardest job I've ever done.

Forever Changed

It was 7:00pm, I had just finished eating dinner and was getting an evening run in on the treadmill before I headed to my 8:00 standing game of hearts. This was how we usually spent the evenings passing the time...a game of cards on the mess decks, some good natured 'ribbing' and talk about what we would do when we saw land again.

You see, I was on 581 feet of floating steel in the middle of the ocean, serving my country as a communications technician. It had been an ordinary day with the usual activities and an even more ordinary evening up until that point - the moment when everything changed. In one swift flash, the alarms sounded and the ship was a flurry of activity as people ran to and from their previous destinations. We all were acutely aware of what had to happen when the alarms sounded despite what we did not know was going on.

In the few minutes it took me to get to where I needed to be, there was little anyone knew, there were more questions than answers at that time. We were told there had been an attack on the world trade center and the reports were still coming in. They would let us know as news was made available. We were shutting down Internet access to limit the users and they would distribute all information as it came in.

There is nothing like being in a pitch black room trying to find your way around. We were blind to everything going on around and left to our imaginations - you can bet the worst we could imagine had already been addressed and was expanding. Not knowing how bad it was, but knowing something was very, very wrong because of what we were being expected to do out there was a very scary feeling.

Three days passed and during that time all we had were written accounts of what had happened and what was happening. Pictures were limited, video footage was none - security in our area of operation was heightened and things were changing drastically. Finally, we received a video tape of the news footage that had been recorded from another ship at the time and it was broadcast over the internal system. I can still remember sitting there, glued to the tv, much like I imagine many others were when it happened. As each incredible image flashed on the screen the realizations were made that things would never be the same again.

It's been 7 years since that time and yet, today the memory is just as fresh as it was yesterday. I don't imagine many people will ever forget that day or the feelings they felt. Life changes in the blink of an eye, little moments affect us and change us just as much as the big moments in our lives - for me, I realized just how important it is to say I love you to those who matter to me and that the human spirit is an amazing thing when we all bond together and lay our differences aside.

September 11 - God bless us all!

Believe in Good or the Power of Evil?

Have you ever seen the movie "Diary of a Mad Black Woman?" There's a scene in the movie where this woman is taking care of her ex-husband, a man who has been nothing short of cruel to her the entire time and in this one scene he falls into the tub, he's cold and shivering and asking her to help him get out to which she does nothing. She just sits there with him and makes him wait.

At that moment, the tables have turned and she has the power to return every ounce of crap this guy pushed on her over time. All the anger she felt can be exacted in that moment in the movie - even though it is typically out of character for the woman being played in the movie.

That is today.

One minute life is speeding along and the next you realize you have the power to affect something on a much larger scale than you ever imagined. With a single action, you - an individual, could put into motion a series of events that could have long lasting repercussions and yet, none of this is in your nature...or is it?

What is our nature?

Do these moments of human kindness define us as people or is the constant barrage of murder, pain and chaos a testament to our true nature? Personally, I like to believe we are good and the exception to the rule is evil. I am typically not a vindictive or hurtful person, however I have been known to lash out if provoked far enough.

Realizing today, that I hold that capability - the ability to affect someone else in a major way, especially if I think you've done me wrong - is intoxicating and tempting, but my belief in Karma/a higher being/god(whatever you want to call it) is stronger...and right now it's the only thing that separates me from those without a conscious.

Have you ever been faced with a choice and you could do what was in your nature or you could do what was totally out of character? Which did you choose?

Infidelity

The news has been littered with John Edwards affair and the aftermath that is his life. Yesterday, in fact, there was an article on MSN that was titled "Edwards' wife in anguish after affair." This struck a chord with me in the fact that even if we do not deal with infidelity directly, the odds that it will touch our lives in some fashion is likely.

Over at "On the Flip Side" Kellan posted a question "What would you do if you Found out your husband was cheating?" After all the comments were in, most people agreed their first instinct would be to kick him to the curb, but in the end would rather attempt to work it out and stay with their husband.

For me, I've seen the issue from both sides. I've been the friend who's watched a marriage crumble because my friend made a mistake. Her husband never did trust her quite the same, nor did she trust him. She always thought he would 'cheat' just to get even with her and he always thought she was cheating, even though she wasn't. Their relationship didn't survive and now they have moved on with their lives.

In my own personal life, years ago (before my husband and I were married or had discussed marriage) we went through a rough patch. I have always said relationships are hard work - this one is no different. We had been together for about 2 years and had endured living together, working together, ex-spouses, very young children, natural disasters and just all around really bad times...we had finally reached our breaking point and yet, neither one of us said "lets walk away, lets call it quits." Instead, we moved our families into separate states and attempted to carry on some semblance of a long distance relationship. I felt that things were wrong between us, but I wanted to believe we would come out of it ok, perhaps some time and distance apart would make the heart grow fonder. (I am a bit of a romantic) The hub (then boyfriend) also knew things weren't going so well and had decided to go his own way, one little problem, he 'forgot' to tell me. So yes, he cheated on me.

I never knew. I went along in my own little cocoon because that is what I wanted to know, needed to believe despite all the other signs. To this day, I doubt I would have ever known had he not decided to tell me the truth. Shortly before he 'popped' the question, he called me one night and started with the dreaded "I need to tell you something..." My heart stopped - I knew what was coming even before he said it. It didn't matter the reasons or the who or any of the rest - in that instant my world cracked, but it didn't shatter. Yes, I was hurt, I was angry - how dare he do this to me after the time and energy we've invested into this relationship. If he wanted out, why didn't he just say so?

Those were the questions I wanted answers to...why didn't he just leave? In the end it came down to one thing...Do I love this man? Do I love this man enough to forgive him?

Yes.

No I wasn't married to him so we could have gone our separate ways without much hassle, but personally I couldn't imagine my life without him in it. Doing some of the things I've done in my life, especially from a military standpoint, I've watched men and women alike throw caution to the wind and follow their desires. I know first hand that we are only human and we make mistakes. I believe the key to getting past this however is forgiveness for yourself and your partner.

I don't believe there are things we can do to prevent infidelity despite what some say is the reason behind it. If we gave them more attention, showed more love, praised more - I don't think these things will actually prevent someone from cheating. It might delay the process, but I believe that if the lines of communication are broken in a relationship and you can't talk to your partner about what is bothering you, then how could you ever expect them to make you feel better? I am a firm believer that no one is responsible for your happiness but you and if you are not happy, no one person or one thing will be able to fix it but you.

Trust is a fragile thing and once it's broken it is never quite the same. For my relationship though, I loved this man enough to work through it and today we are stronger - however if he ever does it again...

Facing The 26.2 Dragon

Every so often I mention the St. Jude Marathon I am going to run on December 6. (notice I said "GOING TO RUN" - positive affirmations)For the past 6 months or so I've been running in an effort to build up mileage and strength so that I can complete the 26.2 mile race without injury. In this process I have gotten a trainer to help with the preparation for the race because I have never done this before. Yesterday - he finally sent out the specific training schedules for the race and I have to admit that I was a little shocked and then a little frightened by what I received.

For some of you, the mere idea of ever running 26.2 miles for FUN - is delusional. I too used to be of this mindset. I usually joke my kids drove me to this point, but the truth is I enjoy running (most days.) When I first started training (8 weeks after my daughter was born) Walking 2 miles was hard, running 4 miles seemed difficult and 26.2 that was beyond psychotic at the time. Eventually, 2 miles turned into 4 which has turned into 10 and sometimes 12 miles. Running 6 is an easy thing now.

What's the problem?

Well, when I was reviewing the training schedule I noticed the 20 & 24 mile runs on there over the next few months and honestly, those numbers seem, well...a little frightening. I've been saying these numbers for a while now - telling myself "sure, whats a few more miles than what you've already been doing." Truth is, seeing them in black and white is a whole new ball game. Regardless of what I thought before, they seem to be looming ahead in all their massive glory.

I'm sure, much of it is still in my head and once I face this dragon it will seem much smaller than I imagined...it's just the getting there that is the hard part.

Have you ever wanted to do something only to find when you are facing it head on, it's more frightening than you imagined?

Monday Madness - Marriage

Today is the hub's and my 2 year wedding anniversary. "awe...how sweet" you might say, but truth is it's not always what it's cracked up to be. I can say this - we are long past the honeymoon stage, but I love the man as much as I did when I fell for him. We've been together now for 5 years. Funny, I never thought I would say I'd been with someone for 5 years, but we have and it's been one helluva ride. Marriage--it doesn't come with a handbook, no guided class to prepare you for what life will be like and despite my belief that "I know this man" after this long, yeah, well, you learn that you just keep learning.

So in honor of this momentous occasion I present to you
Monday Madness - Marriage Style

8 Things No One Tells You About Marriage

1. You will look at the person lying next to you and wonder, Is this it? Forever?
2. You'll work harder than you ever imagined.
3. You will sometimes go to bed mad (and maybe even wake up madder).
4. You will go without sex — sometimes for a long time — and that's okay.
5. Getting your way is usually not as important as finding a way to work together.
6. A great marriage doesn't mean no conflict; it simply means a couple keeps trying to get it right
7. You'll realize that you can only change yourself.
8. As you face your fears and insecurities, you will find out what you're really made of.

I love you honey, as much now as ever and I hope we never stop growing and learning together. You are an amazing man with unlimited potential to be whom ever you want to be. It may not always be easy, but it is always an adventure that I couldn't imagine spending with anybody but you. Happy Anniversary!!

What have you learned about marriage/relationships?

Do you know?

What do you want?

Simple, yet very effective, as far as questions go. Do you have an answer?

I was left to ponder this question, not long ago, after a conversation about my future. I did not have an answer. What did I want?

I want it all.

"Not a good enough answer" I was told. This answer requires focus and more specifics - I did not (do not) have them. The difference between then and now...I know what I want, at least part of what I want and the answer came to me like a light being switched on in the dark.

I run each week. I run 3 days a week and try faithfully to reach my goals when training for my marathon in December. I have always run. Looking back thru my life, I have been running for a very long time. I have never run these distances before, but then again I spent most of that time running FROM something as opposed to running TOWARDS something. I have run so far and so fast that I missed many things along the way.

When I started this process, when I was desperately searching for something, some part of me to cling to, I found running. What I didn't realize until today is that I am running towards something and no longer running away. It takes a lot of dedication, determination and drive to set out to run a marathon. The training and time put into it is work and the reward is personal - very few of us will have a reward other than personal accomplishment.

But for me, while this will be an accomplishment, it will be much more than that. I want to break out of my self imposed limits. The rules I've set that say what I can and cannot do. The labels I've put on myself because this is the mold I want to fit in...this is how I've chosen to define myself. At this moment - the one where I ran 6 miles of hills in the suffocating heat, covered in sweat and sore all over - this moment, I want more than anything else to achieve this goal. Everything it takes to get to the end, seems small in comparison to what will be once I get there, almost as if anything is possible, if I just do this first.

Perhaps this sounds a little halmarkish, but I'm not talking just about running a marathon. Each of us are different, each have different desires and wants and needs. Where is our drive to achieving what it is we want? Have you already found yours - achieved yours?

If the world was an endless possibility - what would you want?

Cut

I've been on a body issue week and the first few posts seemed rather easy in their relevance (at least in regards to my life.) Now, I've admitted that I have a few body issues, but for the most part my issues are resolved to a couple of major ones and most of the rest don't apply, however in my search for a song I heard recently on the radio I came across another one by the same artist that struck a chord with something I've long since forgotten about...pain.

I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
I'm tired of feeling so numb
Relief exists I find it when
I am cut

Let me start by saying that, personally I was never a cutter, but I've been very close to a few and even though I did not carry out this act, I was addicted to pain and found relief from my misery by inflicting it on myself. I'm talking physically hurting myself, pushing my limits just to see how far I could take them - someone once told me "pain makes us stronger" - I took that literally.

This was many years ago, when I felt powerless, confused and trapped. The circumstances outside of my control led me to seek the only things I could control; me and my body. I am not alone in this, unfortunately, because not everyone gets past it. It can be a very dark place in someones life and can carry on for a long time. Fortunately for me, I was able to move on and found wonderful people who were able to accept me for what I "thought" was me which helped me to start the process of accepting myself.

To those angels who carried me thru some dark times...I can never thank you enough. I often wonder where I would be today if I hadn't gotten past those feelings, the hurt, the feelings of powerlessness. It's hard and our coping mechanisms for our emotions come in all forms, shapes and sizes. So do the people it affects. It is not always obvious, on the surface, who is facing these demons - I was active in sports, school, socially...yet in the quiet hours alone I would face my thoughts and hide in the only comfort I knew...pain.

Why do I reveal this? It's simple - this is not me, not anymore, but it was me, a long time ago. Each day I go thru life, one day further from that person and those thoughts get buried underneath everything that is now, but this still happens around me.

You are not alone.

Watch Video:

Cut (Plumb)

Video Code provided by MusicRemedy.Com

Swimsuit Brigade

Continuing with the Body Image theme I thought I would take today to highlight another brave woman who is calling it like she sees it. **don't worry I'm clothed!** hehe

I became aware of Suzanne and her campaign for the 2008 Swimsuit Brigade (2 years running) shortly after I accepted the sexy challenge. "What a honest, self empowering, contradiction to what we see each and every day" I thought, but I would never do that. I, like most women out there, dread the summer months. No, not because it is hot - I actually look forward to the heat, longer days, the ability to play out doors and the variety of activities that become available for me and the family during this time of year. Unfortunately, as much as I enjoy the outdoors and swimming...I hate wearing a swimsuit. Once again, the battle scars that reflect the life (and love) I've had, make me want to hide myself in the shadows of a clothed body.

Seriously?

Yes, despite my last post (or any other previous information put out here) I am very self conscious of my body in a bathing suit. I can say that a lot of this self loathing for the way I looked started years ago with my first failing marriage. I hate to admit it (because I like to think I am mentally stronger than this) but I let this person mentally abuse me and belittle me and learned to hate my body because it was not the "perfect" size, it was not tight or toned or curvy or voluptuous or any of the other 'wants' he desired at that time. I have since come to terms that I will not be "perfect" however these things still lurk in the back of my mind. So in reality, while I can pose 'seductively' I do not feel as exposed as I do in a mere bathing suit.

Sad..I know. Hypocritical..possibly.

This is not to say that I don't believe this should be ignored or over looked just because I'm "shy." There are many of us out here who, for whatever reason (media, past experience etc.) believe we should be ashamed and cover up ourselves.

So today I am casting off my bathing suit cover up and joining the 2008 Swimsuit Brigade.
Will You?

Sexy

Last week, the Sexy Diva posted a video of herself doing a 'sexy' dance and then proceeded to challenge the rest of us Sexy Women to do the same. Ok, so she didn't say we had to post the sexy dance, we could do a sexy picture or a sexy thought or pretty much anything that made us feel sexy. So me being me, and not being able to resist a good challenge, decided to participate.

Well this participation couldn't be just any ol' 'sexy' photo - I was determined to make it one CrAzY sexy photo, silly and probably over the top. To me, the best part about being sexy is being fun. Now where in the world am I going with this post...just stay with me and you will see.

This got me to thinking about "sexy" or really what it is that I think is sexy compared to what I am led to believe is sexy from the media. Now we all know sex sells, why else would we have half naked women running around commercials about cars (or any other product?) No, I am not a prude and can appreciate the human body with the rest of them, but if I look at it from a mothers stand point - what do I want to teach my children?

Do I really want my daughters growing up in a world where they think they have to show skin to be sexy? To be liked? To be popular or cool? No, but in reality, this is what is portrayed by the media and in all honesty, I am no better.

Case and point: My first idea for a photo to this challenge...

Once upon a time, I thought of myself as sexy. Over a decade ago I would have gone up against anyone who challenged that just to prove them wrong. 10 years later, that belief is gone...I wouldn't even attempt to consider myself "sexy" outside the 4 walls of my very own house, but even still...I proceeded to play along.


The thing about being a woman, about growing up, is that no matter what age I am, I still want to feel sexy. I want to make my husband smile that sly smile when he thinks of me, I want to be as attractive outwardly as I feel inwardly. So what has changed me from the what was to what is?

Battle scars of life.

• I have had 2 beautiful little girls - I've got the scars and stretch marks to prove it.

• Saggy body parts - I've gained and lost weight over the years, gravity is now taking it's toll

• Wild Youth - I wanted to be cool when I was younger, I now have scars from piercings years ago

But are all battle scars of life bad?

• Are the laugh lines that are beginning to appear from a life filled with good times considered unsexy?
• Are the wrinkles around my eyes really that bad if it shows the sleepless nights I've spent with a sick baby?
• Are the callouses on my feet that bad if it reveals my love of late night dancing with my friends?

We look at life as we grow older and try to hold on to pieces of our youth because this is what we see each day, all around us...but what if we changed our perception of what is sexy? What if what was real became what is sexy?

The moments we don't care about our hair or striking a perfect pose for the camera?





The moments we are caught 'in the moment' and unaware of anything around us?


The moments when life falls into place and we couldn't ask for more?







I'm talking about life...what if life became sexy and by enjoying life, we believed we were sexy. Wouldn't that be a concept?

Will you show the world your inner sexy? What do you think is sexy?