Today is the day that I have chosen to actually post my first post.  That sentence alone should tell you that I really don’t know what I’m doing.  What I do know is that I feel like I’ve been going through a lot lately and that has begun the process of creating change within me.  I have thought of what I want this blog to be about and have decided that it is going to just be about me, my thoughts and my life.  I am a 36 year old woman, who is a mother to four amazing children.  I am married to a man I fell in love with when I was a child.  I am self-employed and work from home while I try my hardest to be a great parent.  I also have a little dog that I adore.  I hope that this blog gives my children a chance to know me on another level at whatever point in their lives they may want or need to.  My kids know me as their mother, but one day I would love for them to know all the other pieces of me.

First off I guess I should mention that I used to write a ton when I was small.  I used to ride the subway back and forth to elementary school, an hour and a half each way, every day.  That leaves a lot of opportunity for reading and writing, two things I was passionate about.  I still love to read, however I don’t find I have a lot of time or energy for it these days.  As for writing, I eventually got to a point where my thoughts would flow through my mind so quickly I couldn’t get them out fast enough.  I would lose track of where I was going and I became very frustrated.  Also, I am incredibly shy and I always feel foolish when I go back and read something I have written, which is why I have never kept a journal.

Both of my parents are storytellers in their own right.  My father would always tell me stories of his travels and business deals (repeatedly!) lol and my mother provides background information about people I’ve never heard of that leaves me boggled.  Please forgive me if these traits have affected me and my writing style.  I do feel sometimes when I’m writing that certain things may drag on, but I also think you need to know the whole story for one little sentence or observation to be taken in the correct context.  I think that probably comes from the fact that I have a tendency to say things that can seem offensive at times.  I will make a note here to say I never mean to be offensive when I make comments or observations.  The things I say are simply my thoughts and opinions and I never ask that someone agrees with my views.  I only ask that you can acknowledge that there may be another opinion that could be valid even if it differs from your own.  I am the worst at arguing because I can usually see some validity in another person’s point of view.  Even if I completely disagree with it.

I also want to mention that my writing style may change depending on what I’m writing about and when.  If I happen to get a few minutes when I am absolutely furious about something and get my hands on the computer to get it out, I may sound completely vicious because I do have a habit of cursing a blue streak.  My husband also has that issue and over the years my fervor has increased.  I’ve always had a filthy mouth and unfortunately no one ever stopped me.  I did have one friend who tried, but I haven’t seen her in years.

So the catalyst for this writing endeavour is that my husband had his hand badly damaged in an accident, two months ago tomorrow, that involved a close family friend and a number of other family members.  This has unleashed a lot of feelings in me and is causing all kinds of changes to occur for me.  I should let you know that I am someone who has a fairly tight hold on her emotions.  I don’t cry – ever.  Rarely anyway.  I did cry when I had all of my children.  I find pregnancy very nervewracking, which I am certain I will write about at another time in greater detail, but not now.  What I mean when I say I never cry is that I really don’t cry very often because I always feel silly when I do.  I always feel like a crybaby who is feeling sorry for myself when I know there are people out there who are having a much harder time than I am.  I do throw myself the occasional pity party – who doesn’t? – but I try not to dwell there for too long.

What I do realize is that having such a tight reign on my feelings is probably not the best thing for me, my kids or my husband.  I am beginning to think that by keeping all of this to myself and never breaking down or giving into what I am feeling could come back on me at some point in the future.  I love myself and my family way too much to allow myself to bottle things up to the point where I eventually have a complete melt down and am no longer any good to anyone.

A little background information would probably be handy here.  My husband and I moved away from our home city almost 7 years ago when our first child was less than a year old.  We moved into a tiny little town where we only knew two people and the only thing we really knew about the place is that we loved the house we bought and that it was far away from where we were from.  Let’s keep in mind for a moment that both of us were born and raised in a big city and were used to living a pretty fun life up until we started a family.  My kind of fun was always dancing the night away.  Can’t do that when you’re pregnant nor once you become a mother to a newborn.  Especially with no help.  So anyways, we were going through a very difficult time in our lives, both as individuals and as a couple and the choice we made was to leave the circumstances in the city that caused us difficulty, behind.  We still had the issues that plagued us as a couple, geography doesn’t change that, however at least we had the space and time to work those issues out.  I can happily say that time and distance does do a lot of good if you combine it with dedication and hard work.  Now 7 years later we are married, still in our lovely house and have added three more kids to our brood.

When we moved here it was just over a year after my dad passed away.  I had so much going on when he died that I don’t know if I ever really dealt with the loss.  I was six months pregnant when he died and within 6 weeks of his death I had been fired from my job and kicked my partner out of the house.  So here I was, now seven months pregnant, with no job, no emotional support from anyone and facing homelessness.  We had given up our apartment to move in with my dad when he was sick, to take care of him.  My  mother had also given up her apartment to help out and she and I were living in my dad’s house and my half-brother’s were calling us squatters.  It was really quite horrifying and demeaning.  My mother and I, at that point, really didn’t have much of a relationship since she had kept much of my dad’s illness from me.  From the time I found out he was seriously ill to the time he passed away was only about 9 weeks.  I was pretty close to my dad and I love him so much.

Recently, about two or three weeks after my husband’s accident, my mom ended up in the hospital with a serious bone infection.  She lives in the city I am from so I am about an hour and half away from her.  She lives with friends so I am unable to go down to visit with her and she also has a vaccine resistant infection that I don’t want my children exposed to.  It’s been a bit difficult because there isn’t a lot I can do to help her from this distance and over the phone.  She has a tendency to hide the truth from me so I’m not even completely sure of her medical condition.

What I have been experiencing since my husband’s accident is feeling completely overwhelmed.  I am exhausted just by getting through the day.  I will admit that things have gotten easier since he has been recovering and is slowly able to start using his hand again.  Thank God!  It’s helping him to heal as well by being able to start doing things.  I’m sure he felt pretty helpless for a while and being productive again can only help.  I find it very strange that I am really starting to miss my dad in a way that has only come over me from time to time during the past seven and a half years.  I feel like my heart is breaking from missing him and I think I am afraid it’s because on some level I think my mom is not far behind him.  Her health is declining so rapidly and there seem to be so many different things happening that I can’t tell if she will ever really leave the hospital again.  It’s really strange.  I know, that right now, with everything I have going on with my family I am feeling so desperate for someone to take care of me.  I feel like I have to take care of everyone (which I don’t mind).  I just really wish in addition to that I had someone who could hold me up on days that I find challenging or come over to help with the kids, the house and the shopping.  Unfortunately, there is no one.

So, I think, that all of this “stuff” is beginning to break down the walls that surround my heart and contain my feelings.  I feel sadness that I haven’t felt since I was a small child.  The goal now is to get it all out, likely via this blog, so sorry in advance, and hopefully at the end of the day I will emerge from this a better person.  I imagine when all is said and done I will be a better mother, wife and friend.  I hope that my new “natural habitat” or comfortable emotional state will be love and happiness rather than anger and fear.

Wish me luck!