I'm a day late.

For wordless Wednesday...but....we had family pictures done for this year. :)

Thank you to Studio Rachel Photography

Three Headed Chin Twins.  Er, Triplets?!?!

Yes, my 10 1/2 year old is almost as tall as me.  There should be a law.  Just sayin.

Remember last year's pictures?   I love them and I love this year's too.  :)  Buggy has changed.  Bubba and I look the sameish.  :)  Bubba's missing teeth this year.  He has 3 missing, not counting the 2 molars he had to have pulled...that's 5 (for you non adding fools) total missing from his mouth right now.

It's not WHAT you have in your life, but WHO you have in your life that counts...

I want to like her, but she's too damn nice.

This is where I sound like a bitter, snotty teenager, stomping her feet in protest...but, nonetheless, it is how I feel right now.

My Mom and Step Dad got divorced.

I know I've talked about it here a few times. Their divorce has really hit me harder than my own divorce.

Shortly after my Mom moved to Arizona, my step dad started dating.

My Mom had been dabbling in the online dating, which still is weird for me to say...My mom...online dating...but whatever.

I don't remember the first time I met Step Dad's girlfriend, but it was at Thanksgiving that I just decided, she's just too nice.

Can that be possible? Can someone be too stinking nice??? Can you dislike them because they are too nice?

She pulls out the chair next to me at Thanksgiving, "Is it OK if I sit by you, Stacie?"

Conversation at the table had been about change, divorce, etc. She leans in, her dark hair spilling onto my shoulder, "If you ever need anything, Stacie, you can..." she was interrupted by the waitress, "...we can talk later." She looks at me with her beautiful blue puppy dog eyes.

It was that moment that had my blood BOILING. I couldn't wait for our buffet Thanksgiving meal to be over.

I walked out of there, cursing her. I wanted to like her. I didn't want her in my lap, like a puppy dog, begging at my feet for approval.

Each time that I have seen her since then it's been more of the same.

Mother's day we had a cookout at my Aunt's. I was sitting inside watching the start of the Blackhawks game (GO HAWKS), my wheel chair bound gramma was outside. Miss lovely, *rolls eyes*, pops her head in the door and asks how long I am staying. She wanted to make sure she had some time to visit with me, but she was going to start her visiting outside with my gramma.

"Are you going to be here a while?" Her smile beamed.

At that point I felt like standing up and leaving. Nope, sorry Miss Sunshine, I don't have time for you. Who are you anyway?

I really think what's rubbing me wrong is her overly eagerness to be "friends" with me. Truthfully if she'd back off a little, I might just like her more.

I've talked to a friend that knows her.

"Is she always this nice and sunshiney?" I whined.

"Yes, I think so." She answered.

*bitch*

You are a hangnail

I don't bite my nails, but I do bite the skin around my nails.

Right now I have so many hangnails (why are they called that? It's not nail that's hangin.) I bite to get rid of the extra skin, but then they get snagged and more skin is hangin. I bite more, they bleed, they sting, but they still hang around causing me constant annoyance.

YOU. (No not YOU Internet readers)

You are the hangnail of my life. It took me several years to finally "bite" you out of my life, divorce you yet you keep getting snagged causing me more annoyance. I can't get rid of you.

I knew I'd never be able to clip you out completely seeing as we have a child together, but I never imagined that even though I clipped you you'd manage to snag yourself back in and that others would feel bad enough for you to let it happen.

It doesn't matter how many times I bite, no matter how many times I clip your existence to a minimum, there you are still hangin around.

Easter morning I called my stepdad to wish him a Hoppy Easter and to let him know that we would be at Easter brunch with the family. Hesitantly he says, "I invited Capt'n Cancel to brunch. I felt bad for him because he didn't have anywhere to go and didn't know if he was going to see the kids. I hope this is OK."

Damn hangnail, I thought I bit this off already.

Back in June, before the divorce was final I had a discussion with my Aunt. She had invited Capt'n Cancel to my cousin's graduation. I explained how uncomfortable I was with him being there, she apologized and said she really didn't mean to upset me.

*hangnail clipped*

At Thanksgiving, my Uncle let it be known that HE invited Capt'n Cancel to Christmas at their house. In shock I looked at my Aunt who knew my feelings and said, "why does this keep happening?"

*hangnail bitten off*

*Cue sad violins*

Poor Capt'n Cancel.

So good at making others feel so sorry for him, so easily manipulating others to get what he wants.

When? When will MY voice be heard? When? When will this family take my clippers and clip this sad sack of a useless man out of OUR family functions?

When? Oh WHEN will this hangnail be clipped and healed for good?

How many times will I have to say to the only family that I've been close to for the last 20 years of my life ENOUGH is ENOUGH?

So there we sat, MY FAMILY, me and him at Easter Brunch. I just can't bite off that hangnail and let it heal. It's constantly being snagged and reoccurring.

What's AZ got?

meh.

I haven't gotten deep here in a while.

(That's what he said)

If you don't want sappy and whiney then reference back to yesterday's post, mmmk?

You've been warned.

Well. She's leaving. She's moving to Arizona. She says she can't make a life here now that she is divorced. She can't be around town known as his wife or ex wife. She doesn't want to be here.

So she's moving.

And I'm pissed. I'm sad.

It's my mom. My blood, the only blood that I really have contact with on a normal basis.

Why aren't I good enough for her to stay?

There, I said it.

I know this is ridiculous, stinkin thinkin, but my heart goes there and my mind wrings the heart's neck for thinking it.

As much as I've said don't go, she's going. As much as I've made a case for staying, she's going. There's nothing I can do, she's going.

Wordful Wednesday...

This past weekend I wanted to get the heck out of dodge. My cousin and I had been trying to pick a weekend to hang out together.

As kids we were thick as thieves, then something happened.

I've blocked out 85% of my childhood or my memory just sucks donkey I am not sure when or why there was a sudden stop in all the visits. All the weekends and holidays we had spent with this part of the family just STOPPED.



Saturday morning, after the foundation guys did their inspection on our house, I packed up the kids and took off for the rest of the weekend.

We drove, listened to music, and enjoyed watching the scenery.

Once at my cousins we cooked out, her three girls played with my kids, we hung out on her patio, it was NICE. It was relaxing.



The town they live it was adorably cute, small, and quiet. Farmy, yet touristy, I felt warmth there. I could see myself living there.

I won't, but it was fun to dream. It's only about 40 minutes from where we are now...it has a beach just like we do here, it's quiet...I might have even looked in the window of the realty store. Plus it'd be fun to live around that family.

There are three girl cousins on that side, who all have kids that are girls too. It is a girl fest; poor Bubba. ;) They all hang out together a lot, the sisters, their kids, their mom...it's just a bunch of family togetherness.

I guess that is a good thing and a bad thing, but it's one thing that hasn't been happening in my current family situation...so to me, on the outside, it looked pretty darn good.

So for unwinding, I hit most of my marks, sat with a friend (cousin), took pictures (above) and went to the beach. It was a good weekend. Good indeed.
If you want to see more WORDFUL WEDNESDAYS...CLICK THIS BUTTON



or check out, Mostly Wordless Wednesday...

Does it have to be said?

This is for family members or soon to be ex family members..."friends" who might be reading this blog and reporting back to soon to be ex-hubby.

If you misconstrued this post as me "complaining" about being a single mother, you are WRONG.

Though complaining is one of my finer tuned techniques, the fact that I am a single mother BY CHOICE is not a complaint of mine.

It's crazy, hectic and SOMETIMES overwhelming, but if you KNOW ME...and I mean really know me, that is how I prefer my life.

I can say that I am MUCH happier at this point and will continue to expound my happiness as time goes by...as any mother knows a happy mommy equals happy children.

When the kids are not with me I don't know who I am or what to do with myself. I have to PHYSICALLY force myself to leave the couch and shower...I do know that it will get easier and more routine as time moves forward.

Therefore, if you don't know me or think you know me through a venting blog, you have NO idea...and don't know the half of me...hell not even a quarter of me and what I am about.

I really want to.

I really want to tell you all about my trip.
There are so many other things clouding my thoughts.
When the clouds roll in, I have to clear them. Clearing them, for me is blogging. So please, pull out your umbrellas and come into my storm, or try back tomorrow where I will try to shine the sunshine from Florida for you all to see.

I am feeling consumed with OTHERS today. I know when I feel consumed with others means, I need to make some me time, I need to let go and let God. That is so hard though.

The night before we left for our vacation my mom, step dad, brother and his girlfriend all came over to do our Christmas together.

The last time I saw my brother was around Thanksgiving. He was hopped up (or really down) on valium. He was so out of it. I left there pretty angry. I have decided many times that I will not subject myself to his addictions. My kids don't deserve to see their Uncle completely out of it. They don't understand that one time he is great, energetic and fun then the next so down that he is falling asleep at the dinner table.

When my mom invited them to my house for our Christmas get together, it was already too late for me to protest. SO I allowed them to come over. I hoped that it wasn't going to be a repeat, for the most part, it wasn't. He wasn't sleeping at the dinner table, but other signs were there.

Cheesecake was forgotten at Mom's house, my brother over enthusiastically volunteered to run back and get it. OK. That was strange, but I blamed my "over-reacting mind" for "assuming" the worse.

During dinner, he was eating and I could just tell, something was OFF. All of a sudden he says, "No wonder! I've been eating this pineapple thinking it was potato and wondering why it tasted so different."

Um, WHAT? Sorry, clearly, he is not all there.

As we were opening gifts his girlfriend and him decided it was time for them to go and the urgency was overwhelming. They were out the door in no time flat. For benefit of the doubt, his girlfriend is allergic to dogs and we had not put up our dog (not remembering her allergies). So they were OUT.

One of my smoke breaks in the garage I was talking with Mom. She was going on and on about how proud she is of my brother, how he has taken steps to go to a psychiatrist, how the psychiatrist suggested him to a methadone clinic. How he is trying so hard to remain sober. Her denial is frustrating.

I cringed. I expressed to Mom that I felt differently than she did about his so-called recovery, that I don't believe it for a minute and that I am calling "bullshit" on it. I broke her heart, I could tell. I took the wind out of her sails. I didn't mean to, it was a gut reaction to his lies.

The thing that makes me so upset is how he constantly does this to her. How she falls for it every time.

I immediately regretted saying anything at all. I can not save him, and I sure as hell can't save her from being hurt by him. I can only prepare myself, but in the same token, am I going off of past experiences of the worse from him? Am I "assuming" the worse so that IF it happens I won't be hurt by it? Am I not putting enough faith in my Higher Power to take care of the situation? Am I putting all my faith in my Higher Power for my brother, but not giving faith that He will take care of my Mom?

Well, I give this to my Higher Power, to get me through this I know He will know what to do for them and for me.

Letter to brother,
Chad, I love you. I hope you can get through this.

Letter to Mom,
Mom, I love you. I hope you can get through this.

*wipes hands clean*

Wordless Wednesday

Remember me?

I haven't thought about him in weeks, I haven't. Not once.

After a stressful weekend and an evening at Al Anon, I dreamt of him.

I was in the town where I spent the first 12 years of my life. I was waiting for the 4th of July parade...it was nighttime (?). I was standing on the corner (non-hookerish) waiting for the margarita truck. (hilarious) There he was, walking up the street with his wife and her child.

They split, she went into the corner bar and he stood outside smoking his cigarette. I looked over. He looked too. My heart sank, he looked unaffected.

Asshole! I thought.

How can he not say hello to me?

The lump in my throat burned as I yelled, "Hey! You can't say hello to your daughter?"


"oh, hey." he replied lifelessly.



Then I woke up.

Hurt and mad.

4:33 yo, Monday

So of course I had all kinds of things swimming in my head to write about last night, yet this morning through NOW...nothing.

Well there is ONE thing that is really bugging me today, but I am trying to LET IT GO. :)

It has to do with family pressures to baptize...and I really don't care to go into RELIGION on my blog....but here we go (I just typed God...fruedian?) in bullet post form.

*I love the idea of it, hubby's uncle is a priest and he does the ceremony just for the family. I love THAT part of it.

*I have never been baptized.

*Buggy has never been baptized.

*I am not Catholic.

*Hubby is not a practising Catholic.

*I can not stand up in front of God and my family and claim to do something that I won't be doing. Such as attending the Catholic church and raising my son as a Catholic.

*How in hell would I choose two OTHER people to follow through with this if I am no longer able...when I won't be following through with it when I *am* able.

*if I cave to family pressure on THIS matter, the next logical step will be pressure for CCD classes and more.

However, it all does bring me to the thoughts of finding a church that I do feel comfortable with and eventually ONE DAY having my children baptized, but I will not do it because of family pressure or any other pressure. It is a choice, and it is MY choice.

thanks, stepping down.

*I by no means think that anyone is wrong for baptizing, I think it is a beautiful thing if it is what you choose to do with your family.*

Not this year...

In my attendance at Al-Anon last night, this was the reading I had. It really hit home for me. As we are entering into this holiday season, I am going to keep reminding myself of this reading. I even earmarked it in the book.

"Resentments mark the places where I see myself as a victim. I want to let them go because they cost me too much self-esteem. I will love myself enough to release myself from the closet in which resentments keep me locked."

Wow. Really.

I will not resent my brother for not being the "brother" that I want, he is the way he is and honestly, part of the reason he self medicates is because I don't think HE is the person he wants to be.

I will not resent my birth father for his lack of interest in his own children and grandchildren. He, too, doesn't know how to be any different. The disease has taken him on a lonely path in which the routes to get off are obvious, but maybe too painful to take.

I will not resent my husband. My resentment for him only makes me miserable and I want to enjoy the holidays.

As many of you may not know, last year was marked as one of my WORST Christmases EVER. I was on the verge of leaving my husband, but wanted to wait until the holidays were over. My brother and my relationship has strains and is often forced upon us by my mother to satisfy her own agenda. The minute my brother walked in the door, I couldn't breath. I had to go to the bathroom to try to compose myself. I had so much anger towards him, though the anger is still there I am not going to let it overwhelm me this year. Al anon has helped me in trying to channel my thoughts into a more positive light. I hope to really use these tools to get through the holidays. Last year I had to use one of their tactics to calm myself, which only made me EVEN more angry but this time at myself. I don't want to self medicate (beer, I am not talking Prozac or a hit of heroin) to handle THEIR issues and my over bearing resentment.

So, I am going to remember this reading and I am going to put my Al Anon book, Courage to Change, in my purse in case I need a reminder of WHO I am hurting by letting these feelings RUIN one of the most exciting holidays of the year.

Our Family

Through the eyes of my beautiful daughter and her fabulous drawing skills.

Bubbas said, "Why my wearing a dress?" Which translated means, I am a boy, why are you making me look like a girl?

I guess boys are overly AWARE that they are boys. It is shown in the occassional tug here and there. It is shown while in the tub when he shakes it around and laughs. On the very BAD instances that he chases his sister around with it out, what is THAT about?

Then you look at Dad, or my hubby. Yeah, WONDER where your boy learns it from. Sorry for the visual, I really just wanted to show off Buggy's artwork, but it went in a total different direction once the fingers hit the keyboard.

Here is another rendition,


In this one she choose to show (from left to right) her step sister, her, hubs, bubs, her Dad and me. HMMM Why does this make me smile from ear to ear? NO EVIL STEPMOM. Nope. :) Her attempt at pants to make Sammy happy is quite cute too, ESPECIALLY, on her dad, Stumpy. ROFLMAO.

Ah, my girl really is a good artist and she loves it, these are going in her "keep" container for years of enjoyment down the road.

Blogging, cheaper than therapy?

I am thankful for being turned on to this blogger site. I can't blog on myspace for I have family members there (ie; husband, his family, etc) that can read it and really maybe they SHOULD. I can come here and know there a select few that read and love me regardless and any other unknown readers may judge away and it won't hurt me one bit.

My family life is a rough one, but sadly probably not that uncommon. I grew up in a divorced family. My parents were divorced when I was five (still thinking this might be wrong, I might have been two, actually but for some reason five sticks out as a thumbnail in my life). My parents were young, my mom turned 17 a few months before I was born and my dad was almost 20. They made choices back then that were "young" of them. I hold no resentment. I couldn't imagine being that young having kids. I think they did the best they knew how at that age and time. Now though, I see more and more how much my childhood HAS affected me. So no resentment, but definitely awareness.

My dad has a drinking problem. He is one of the most functional alcoholics that I know...but it doesn't stop at alcohol. I remember one time he was driving me (DRIVING ME)down to college for the start of my second year. He was smoking pot, like they were cigarettes. Driving me. Smoking marijuana. It was not uncommon for my dad to be out at early morn mowing the grass drinking Lord and water. Never though do I ever remember seeing him DRUNK or HIGH or acting as if those elements affected him. He always seemed the same, maybe in truth, I never saw him sober. Anyway, I could never tell if he was drunk or high. My brother and I lived with my dad (maybe this is where the five comes in) for quite a few years before my mom regained custody. Since then, my dad has been in and out of my life. For years putting the sole responsibility of correspondence on me...at 11ish. It was crazy. I wanted more than anything though to have him in my life. I remember him coming around to the BIG things like graduation, my first wedding...etc. That was about all.

Speed up to today. I haven't spoken to my dad as previously posted. I called. I got the same story that he usually gives. Life is crazy. He is really working on getting his together. He has realized now at the ripe ole age of 53 that FAMILY is much more IMPORTANT than other things. Well he said family and work, I think the work part comes in because he lost his job a year or so ago because he failed the drug test. So he reconfirmed that yes he has my number, he knows my address and that he is going to try his hardest to keep in touch with me. I hung up. Glad I had made the call, but trying not to expect too much more than I have gotten in the past few years.

My brother has led a life much like my father. He got in trouble at an EARLY age (middle school, ok, maybe that 'early' doesn't need to be caps, but damn pretty young) for selling fake marijuana. His criminal record as a juvenile escalated and went into his adulthood. He has just gotten out of PRISON for the THIRD time. Ironically, he called me this same night that I had taken the plunge to call my...uh, our dad. I have always said that my brother is my father, but my father hasn't been punished for his wrong-doings. My brother IS my father. His voice, his mannerisms and quite frankly his crap about wanting to be better. I don't want to go back to that place, he says. I am going to do it this time, Stace. I want to have a relationship with you.

Skeptical as I am, DAMN IT, I want all those things they promise or say. I want them too, but ya know what? I think I am getting too old to believe it anymore. It's like Santa, just ain't there. I can't believe in something that isn't there. Sure, I can hope, and I can dream but the buck stops there.

So as my brother has taken a liking to my dad's lifestyle, I have taken a liking to marrying a man similar to my father. This statement infuriates Hubby. I think because he knows some of my hurt that my father has bestowed upon me. I think Hubby thinks that my father isn't much more than a father, basically he isn't a dad. Hubby is right in that, yes, Hubby is there for his child and Buggy for that matter. BUT, uhm. Yes, Hubby is like my father. Hubby drinks. Hubby drinks daily. Some of the same disappointments I have felt with my father are felt with Hubby. Good thing is, I don't have to live with my dad, yet, I kinda am. Hubby does NOT handle his alcohol in the way my dad did (does), which I think is a pretty good argument that Hubs isn't MEANT to be an alcoholic. Ask Hubby to give drinking up and you would think that he was asked to give up a limb. It's a disease. So I have heard and been told in Al Anon. This disease pisses me off, though I guess so would any other disease that I couldn't do a damn thing about! All in all, it is MY problem to deal with because Hubby isn't budging. In an argument this morning, Hubs said, "does all this have to do with your brother getting out?". UM, NO Dude this has to do with YOU. Even when we were in counseling, Hubby would leave there with the understanding in his own little warped brain that all of this was CAUSED by my feelings towards my family. NONE of this was HIM. So when that was expressed, I said, fine, let me go deal by myself then if it is me. Tune changed real quick then. *deedledee-deedledoo*

So here I am today. Little hopeful, though not unrealistic. In a mess of a marriage, but not willing to let it go just yet. I remember a couple times leaving my counseling sessions thinking, "That therapist thinks I am crazy" as she shakes her head. So go ahead. *shake your head* I do. It's ok. If life wasn't meant to be a little crazy then we wouldn't love Jerry Springer. OK that wasn't what I was going to originally say. If life wasn't meant to be crazy then it would have been really boring.

Much love for reading. :) Commence head shaking. ;)