My mom died. What!!!!???? Without warning…not real warning, like I expected it warning, but gentle, you need to be tuned in warning. I know all the signs, I saw them all, but we had been going through this all fucking year! There was no way in hell that this was it. I got on the ride and I jumped back off because I felt like I was getting all worked up again for nothing, only to find myself back here again in another month to six weeks to go through it again. Then she fucking did it.

Good for her!!!!! She fucking deserved it….she deserved the release, she deserves the glory and the bliss. She fucking deserved better than everything she ever fucking got!!!! I just can’t believe it.

She was at my house a week prior and didn’t look bad. She was in a good mood, seemed to be enjoying herself.

Anyways, my original point when I stared this was, how the fuck do you raise a girl? It’s the biggest job – EVER!!!!! How do you raise a girl when you’re broken and hard? How do you raise a girl when you were raised by someone who was broken? How do you teach them that they are exactly perfect, exactly the way they are, no matter what…no exceptions? Every moment, no matter how fucked up it may be, only lasts a moment. It’s perfect, it’s not forever, just for this second. You might change your mind in a minute or you might not and that’s ok.

I’ve been called bitch for most of my life and quite honestly, I’m quite fucking sick of it. Everyone who’s ever called me a bitch can fuck right off! If you think I’m a bitch, that’s your fucking problem. I own every one of my feelings. I take responsibility for my words, my actions and every fucking other thing. I didn’t have any choice. There was no one standing in front of me to help me or defend me. So I own it. All of it. But just because I will say shit that you think, but are too much of a pussy to say, does not make me a bad person or a bitch. You calling me a bitch makes you judgemental.

I’m so fucking tired of feeling the need to apologize for every god damned thing I think or say. Why am I responsible for your shit? Tell me. I don’t fucking make you responsible for mine. Why do I always have to humour you and pat your ego because I am too much for you? I’m not a monster. I’m not larger than life. Why do you react negatively to what you see. Why can’t you just own that part of yourself?

Does it really make you feel better to judge me for saying something that you think? Or do you really feel like a fraud? I’ve been around people like me….who say shit that you would really never say in public and you know what….it’s fucking hilarious….you know why… because everyone thinks it, but no one would ever fucking dare say it. I love that I’ve been around people comfortable enough with me to be themselves and say that shit. What the fuck do I care?! You had an opinion or thought shared by like 90% of the adult population…oh well. Good on ya! Why am I the asshole?

I think I’ve been in a shitty mood all day, I just wasn’t fully aware of it.  I’ve been waiting patiently for the right opportunity to take a two hour drive from home in order to get rid of some old stuff I’ve been hanging onto for years which will also bring in a little cash.  I thought I would be able to safely get away either yesterday or today, hoping to get it done with only two kids along for the ride instead of four.  Rather than do that, I’ve been waiting for the hospital to let me know when they were going to discharge my mom.  I absolutely did not want her being sent home by taxi.  I didn’t want her to feel like she has no one when that’s not the case.  Being that I don’t have a 9 to 5 tying me down it’s clear that my schedule is super flexible ie. I can be everywhere everyone wants/needs me to be because I don’t have anything else/better to do anyway.  That little bit of snippiness does not apply to today because I wanted to be there for my mom.  What it does apply to is that when I knew she was coming home today, I made plans to take my drive tomorrow.  Then my dear husband comes home, who knows exactly the best way, time, method, etc to do anything and everything even if he’s never actually done it.  So of course, tomorrow is the worst day to do this drive because the traffic is going to be horrendous and what if I don’t make it back by the time he’s done work?  Well, then, he’ll be left sitting here alone with nothing to do.  God fucking forbid that should ever happen!  He then goes on to tell me that I probably shouldn’t be running out to do this errand because I have so much cleaning to do around the house – spring cleaning.  Which I’ve already started!!!!  Oh and by the fucking way….I do a lot more than just clean the house!!!!  Are you serious?!  I’m fuming!  I can’t even express how disregarded and disrespected I feel.  This is when I start stomping my feet and put my bitch face on.  In my head I’m pulling out my 5 inch “don’t fuck with me” shoes and tap dancing all over his forehead all the while raging “don’t you know who the fuck you’re talking to!”.  That was my 20something year old self and sometimes I miss the little bitch.  She didn’t take shit from anyone.

After six years of staying home raising kids and losing any idea of who I might have been at one time, I see it ending.  I’ve only got a very few short months left with my little ones all to myself.  While I’m dreading it because I’m going to miss their adorable little faces, I’m also looking forward to finding something for myself again.  I want to know who I am now.  I want to know what I can do, find out what exactly I am capable of.

It’s hard growing up.  It’s sometimes very challenging to keep your mouth shut.  Everyday we are faced with things that frustrate and irritate us, but as an adult, we’re expected to keep hold of our emotions.  For the most part, it’s really not such a bad thing.  I am able, now, to catch myself as I’m forming a judgement in my mind and reaching a point of frustration where I might have said something before.  I am able to understand that the person I’m judging is simply venting or having a bad day and unloading to a trusted friend.  I can stop the judgement, hear them out and empathise.  Today, however, I have to admit, I was more than a little short tempered with one person.  I’ve been listening and supporting and empathising and counseling for months now.  I’ve wanted to.  I’ve chosen to be there for that purpose.  What bothered me today was that when I may have needed some support, there was none.  There wasn’t even an acknowledgement that I might need some.  My situation was completely ignored and their “problems” were talked about for an hour and a half.  I am left feeling like if all you want is to hear the sound of your own voice, please call someone else as I have other things to do.  Hopefully, this was a one-off and my friend will remember that friendship goes both ways.

I am mid-pity party.  I’ve been in excruciating pain all week having had a slipped disc or two in my neck.  When I finally got into the chiropractor for an adjustment I almost cried. I still don’t have full mobility in my neck, but it’s better than it was.  It really is necessary to take care of myself because at this point, I am all used up.  I literally have nothing left to give.  I just have to dig a little deeper and find something to give to myself.

On a lighter note, a few good things that happened this week:

My eldest picked a book from the library and brought it home just for me.  When I saw it I was so touched.  She’s amazing!  She brought me a book all about Italy.  She knows I’m obsessed with going back there.  It’s amazing to know that she loves me back.

Today when I went to pick up my mom, the desk secretary introduced herself to me because we’ve spoken on the phone so many times over the past week and half.  She told me it was no bother that I had called so much because I was so nice to her!  🙂  That’s a first!  lol  There was one day where I had to hold my tongue with her, but also, again, caught myself and realized that she can only give me the information she has and she’s not just being difficult.

I bought a new nail polish for spring!  Yay!

I have started my spring cleaning, baseboards are sparkling and awaiting a fresh coat of paint.

I called a potential client tonight to let him know I couldn`t do what he had asked.  After that, I offered him a better alternative to what he had asked me for.  Then he asked if I could speak to CRA on his behalf, so I told him to get his papers together and I would try.  I`m going to be registering a new business because I let my business license expire – by accident.  But in the meantime, I also decided to register a completely new business – name and direction.  This client is right along the lines of what I was thinking.  Maybe this is going to be my new thing.  We`ll see.

100% of the time I wouldn`t want any life other than the one I`ve got.  There definitely are a few things I would tweak and will get to tweaking, but for the most part, I`ve got it pretty good.  I have the four most spectacular reasons on the planet for doing everything that I do.  I have been given the privilege of being their mother and of being allowed to watch them grow into whoever it is that they are.  That`s very exciting to me.  I can be patient a little while longer.

My mom had her surgery on Tuesday.  I had been forewarned by numerous people that anaesthetic can have nasty effects on those who suffer with dementia.  I was warned that she may not come out the way she went in.  I was also advised to begin looking into funeral arrangements.

The morning of her surgery she also had dialysis which takes a toll on her every time.  She often spends a lot of the day sleeping after dialysis.  She looked a little weak when I met her in dialysis and I asked her if she was alright to walk over to the outpatient surgery or if I should get her a wheelchair.  She said she was fine, but before we made it out of the unit she was dangerously close to falling.  I sat her down right away and got a wheelchair.

We waited a little while in outpatient surgery before two nurses came to go over her paperwork.  That took a while.  The nurse completing the paperwork was unable to figure out her meds or even follow a simple direction.  The other nurse couldn’t figure out how to dial a phone number as it was being recited to her.  I don’t what would/could have been the outcome if they had tried to figure it out on their own.

During the question period to complete the paperwork the nurse asks my mom if she’s recently been tested for C. Dif.  She calmly, without looking up, says to my mom, “You would know if you had been.”  At which point, I had to point out to her that she may in fact, not know if she had been.  I don’t think she liked that, but too bad.

They finally managed to get the chart completed and proceeded to take swabs and blood in order to prepare for surgery.  Having the IV put in was very uncomfortable for my mom.  I could see the pain so clearly on her face.  She became sad at one point as the full extent of her medical condition hit her.  She really, at that moment, had no idea she was so sick.  I thought that this could very well be it.  I thought the anaesthetic was going to do it.  That the surgery was going to be the thing that put her over.

Luckily, after all the time we spent working on that pre-op paperwork and making sure the nurses and doctors knew everything that they were dealing with, they decided not to knock her out.  Of course, I didn’t know this until hours later when the surgery had been done and they brought her to her room.

I couldn’t believe how relieved I felt.

I think I’ve been preparing myself for the past month or so for my mom’s passing.  I thought I had come to terms with it and I thought I was fairly prepared.  I saw her and she looked pretty good considering the day she’d had. I said to her “You’re already awake”, she replied, “I was awake for the whole thing.”  I said, “How was that?” and she was like, “It was fine.  I didn’t feel a thing.”  She still doesn’t.  The neuropathy is so bad that she’s just undergone a partial amputation with no pain whatsoever!  Talk about a strange blessing.  My husband suffered the worst pain due to severed nerves and phantom pain and because her nerves are already dead, she’s cruising through this like any other day.  In kind of a weird way, she’s lucky.  I’m glad she’s not suffering, because having seen it first-hand, I know it’s incredibly hard.

Yesterday I was wiped out.  I could barely function.  I got to the point where I literally couldn’t remember the last time I showered.  I have been holding all of this so tightly in my body that I felt like my entire back was broken.  Last night, instead of staying up late “to work on another project or something I “should” be doing”, I went to bed early.  This morning I set my alarm, got up before my kids and took a nice, long shower.  After I took my daughter to school, I went and had my brows done.  I finally felt like a human being again.

I am so happy they didn’t put her under.  I don’t know what would have happened if they had and I don’t know how I would have dealt with it.  I think I’m just going to have to enjoy whatever time is left and try not to prepare myself anymore.  I can’t spend the rest of her life worrying about the next thing that can hurt her or go wrong with her health.

For now, she is well enough and we have another day together.

Counting my blessings and being grateful.  🙂

This is a photo of a diabetic ulcer, one which is to result in an upcoming partial amputation of this foot.  The hole in this foot is over an inch deep and the infection goes into the bone.  This is what happens when you refuse to acknowledge what doctors tell you.  If a doctor tells you that you have diabetes, believe them.  If you don’t and you pretend that they’re wrong this could happen to you.  If you are a parent, please consider what this will mean for your child(ren) who are left to take care of you.

When I knew that I wanted to get pregnant with my first child, I quit smoking – 6 months before I went off the pill and started trying.  The way I saw it then, was that if I was going to have a kid, I no longer had the right to kill myself on the instalment plan.  I loved smoking!  I don’t know why because I was the most anti-smoking pre-teen on the planet.  When I did try it, I thought it was disgusting, but somehow I managed to keep at it until I a) got good at it and b) loved it.  Gross!  Thankfully, after I quit and started again and quit and started again, I finally quit for good.  I haven’t smoked in over three years and I no longer crave it and when I do get a whiff of it, it’s more yuck than yum.  That might sound really sick to someone who’s never smoked, but any smoker will get it.

Being the only person standing in the middle of a large circle of people who require constant care is exhausting.  I don’t want to sound like a baby, but I’m fucking tired.  I’m sad and I’m hurt and I’m run down.  I went through a period during my first pregnancy when I had so many horrible things happen at once, I don’t know how I got through it.  This period in my life is seemingly similar in that I’ve been dealing with one huge blow after another.  The difference is that 9/10 years ago everything happened within a very short time frame – literally only a few months, but it took a while to recover from it.  This time around, these huge events have been consistently happening for over a year and a half.  I’m trying so hard to not be completely overtaken by the things that are going on, telling myself not to worry.  I’ve been here before.  I know, that after spells like this, there is something glorious on the other side.  I’ve felt excitement (because I’m super impatient), like ok, I’ve taken the shit, now give me my prize.  Show me the change I’ve worked towards.  Show me the result of the work and the beating.  Give me something positive back out of all of this.  Please.

Rather than get totally downtrodden, I look to find something positive to keep me going.  I was told about Elephant Journal which has been wonderful.  It’s loaded with fantastic writing and positivity.  It definitely helps.  Today, I read a post by a writer from Elephant Journal.  She’s a beautiful, inspirational girl and she was writing about walking through fear and pain, etc.  There was a part in the post which I had to go back and reread because it felt a little unfair.  She said that we write, drink, do yoga, read, etc, etc….not a direct quote, but close, in order to escape and avoid our feelings.  That, instead of distracting ourselves from our misery we should embrace it and feel all of it (seriously, not a direct quote, just what I can remember taking out of it).  I have to say, that to completely feel every single emotion that we go through in a day can level you.  Especially during times of extreme stress, sadness, responsibility.  I have people who depend on me to not fall apart.  I have a gaggle of small children who rely on me for every single thing in their little lives.  I have a husband who relies on me to keep everything moving smoothly and to support him in his responsibilities, I have a mother who needs me to take care of her medical needs because she isn’t in a position to do it for herself.  I am expected to work whenever I am called.  I also have committed to extra administrative work for a colleague because we need the money.  I am trying to resurrect my long dead and buried financial business.  I am being asked to mentor and train someone I’ve had a relationship with who is new to my business.  I have a lot of plates spinning precariously on tall spikes and no one to help me catch any of them if they fall.  Unfortunately, falling apart and walking through every flicker of emotion is a luxury.  It’s all well and good to pour your heart out and encourage others to do the same, but we can’t all be young and perfect and unencumbered, living life on a beach, reading spirituality books and practicing yoga.  Sometimes, we have to just keep going because that is the only option available at the time.  Maybe when the pressure eases and the responsibility is lessened, maybe then we can wade through the emotional guk that is left over.

Now that I’ve completely gone off track, I’ll bring it back around.  It’s a hard thing to be a mother to young children and a daughter to an ill parent.  For me personally, I find myself feeling now for my mother, the way I feel for my kids – if they are awake, I should be with them.  Regardless of anything else.  For the most part, if my kids are home and my husband is home, I do whatever they want or I tidy the house so that I am available should anyone need anything.  The only time I take for myself or for my work is when they are asleep or at work/school.  Now, with my mom being so sick and being stuck in a home, I feel the same with her.  I feel like it’s my responsibility to bring her home and have her around any chance I get.  Even if we’re not interacting I feel like it’s my duty to have her here with me and my family.

My husband is on me regularly these days about taking better care of myself.  I agree, I need to.  The first thing to go for me when I’m stressed is my appetite and my motivation to work out.  I realize that it’s hypocritical of me to whine about a parent who didn’t take care of herself, when I am guilty of doing the same thing right now.  I’m just so tired.

I’m trying to keep my chin up.  I know that, in the grand scheme of things, this is just a short period of my life, that I will learn from and look back on (hopefully) with gratitude for the time I was given and the lessons I learned and the opportunity of being available to provide this care to her. Right now though, I am tired and worn down.  It has been a wretched couple of weeks.  I felt very much like she had already passed away.  That probably sounds strange and it was.  I don’t know where the feeling came from.  She had fallen and been sent to the hospital.  This went on for over a week with constant headaches and requests for CT scans and daily phone calls from the home.  I had another epic run in with her crazy sister which really sent me into a spin.  She told me I had my mom “locked up in that place” and that she was “trying to break her out”.  Can you imagine!?  My mother requires 24/7/365 care and isn’t cognitively fully aware at all times of her complete medical condition and this woman is accusing me of locking up her up and throwing away the key.  As though she is perfectly fit to live independently.

My brother wants nothing to do with her, but when pressed says he should at least be told when she passes and he guesses he has to come.  Fuck!  Really!  The funny thing is that that is a huge improvement from a year ago.  I will say that when he did call back he was gracious enough to hear me out and listen to the entire story of what has transpired these last few weeks.  It was a relief to tell someone.

So she goes for surgery in two weeks.  I believe the doctor is competent and compassionate and will limit the amputation to what is absolutely necessary.  She had very little reaction when told of the procedure.  I had my little ones with me and my youngest has trouble with wounds ever since her dad’s accident so she was quite upset.  There was a lot going on with the crying three year old and the blood dripping on the floor.  We didn’t get a chance to talk about it.

I feel bad for her that this is the reality.  I also feel angry that her poor choices are now my problem.  Fuck that sounds selfish.  I can’t do anything to change things for her.  I’m doing my best to see that she is being well cared for.  The entire situation just feels shitty.  What do you say?   How do you sit and have a conversation with someone who feels like they made the wrong choices and it make it ok for them?  I do it.  I justify it and relate and tell her we all do it and we all make mistakes, which is true.  I feel like a shitty parent daily.  It’s not my job to tell her she made mistakes, she knows that. It’s not my job to make her feel like a dick.  But I also can’t sit there and tell her she was an awesome mother.  I can’t cry and tell her she was the best mommy in the world.  I used to think she was when I was little.  Maybe.  Maybe not.  I’m sure there were many moments when my young mind questioned her words, actions and behaviour.  But I don’t remember them.  It took me until well into my 20s to really question her.  And now I need to move on.  I have my own family to worry about and care for.  My own children to provide love and support and guidance to.  I want out.  I want to be free from the negativity of my history.

But not yet. I really don’t know if I’m ready for that.  I’m sure there will be a cesspool of crap to climb through before I get out of it completely.

Oh well.

Monday was the day we went to my friend’s mom’s funeral. And the day we got the news about my husband’s layoff.  While initially, I willingly admit, these two things might appear to be less than fantastic happenings, there are amazing things coming from them.  I quickly saw that my life is changing and I am changing.  My perspective is changing and I’m thinking, it’s about bloody time.  lol

One of the wonderful things (I think and hope) that has come out of my Monday is a new page called “Inspired by the details.”  So named (by me, still awaiting approval from my partner in crime) by her connection to “Details” and for me “Inspired” because that is exactly what I am looking to be.  Or am and just don’t always know it.  Not sure yet.  Anyway, here’s the concept.  My friend loves photography and wants to do more of it and her and I have had different conversations about starting some co-creative project together.  While my mind was racing in light of the layoff news, it came to me that I needed to just write.  About anything.  I don’t care.  Funny, weird, heavy, light, emotional, nonsensical….I don’t care!!!!  So the proposition/challenge I put to her was, that she must provide me with one photo daily and I, in turn, will write about it.  Keep in mind, the photos can be of absolutely Anything!  haha….How fun is that!!!?  I hope she’s in because I think it has the potential to be one of the most incredible experiences of our lives.  I’m kicking it off with a photo I took (don’t laugh!) 🙂 and a little tribute to my girl.

In 2013, my husband lost a finger and a bit.

In 2014, my mother in law tried to ruin my marriage and my mother almost died.

So far in 2015, I went to the funeral for the mother of an old, dear friend and on our way home, my husband, our sole provider, got laid off from his job.

This would ordinarily be the part where I freak out.  I have four kids, a mortgage, just starting to think about recovering from the past year and a half of less than adequate income and now this.  Woo hoo!!!!!  Oh ya, and today is my daughter’s 9th birthday.

As we drove, I felt the sick, tingly fear coursing through my veins and I was screaming “Fuck, fuck, fuck…over and over (in my head of course, not aloud 🙂 ).  I’m not going to lie and say it just rolled off my back.  Not so.  The panic, however, didn’t last long.  I mean really, what can you do?  The wheels start turning, plans start hatching and I go into survival mode.

It’s a shitty, stressful situation to find ourselves in.  Thankfully we are both skilled and ready to get busy setting things right.  We spent part of the day polishing his resume, applied to a job, looked into some other jobs and evaluating our options.  Once I was done with his stuff, I turned to my own tasks.

I’ve been trying to register for an online service since Friday in order to order a report I need to proceed with a deal I am currently working on.  I probably had to call support three or four times before we finally figured out that my primary email account was blocking my registration email from arriving.  Great!  I finally gain access to the system.  Check!

Then, I log into my account with the local school board to check for postings.  If I’m going to have childcare, I may as well go out to work, if I can.  There are two postings I am interested in and I am already booked into a training session which will provide me with one of the requirements for the posting I am really interested in.  In I go to apply to these jobs.  Well, there is a reason I have always preferred to work for small to medium sized businesses as opposed to large corporate enterprises.  I fucking hate them.  Period.  I’m not cut out for it.  I hate their systems.  If I had one browser page open, I had six open.  I’m not that tech savvy.  I’m lucky I can post this.  So back and forth, back and forth, finally get one application completed and hit submit and……error message.  No shit!  Ok, back, resubmit, error message.  Ok, log out, log back in, redo application form, skipping from one page to the next, complete, submit…..error message!!!  Ok, log out, give up, email manager.  Check on course outline for tomorrow and posting it supports.  Read pre-requisites…hmmmm….Shit!…I don’t have them…how did I miss this when I registered?  Quickly, email the administrator who is looking for spots, tell her about my mistake and unregister myself.  Usually I get along decently with my computer and I can get through it.  Today, I got it.  I finally got why people can be driven to launch their computers right through the nearest window or wall.  In my case, because now I can’t buy a new one, I just started crying.  Now, when I need to work more than ever, how do I explain to my husband that I don’t have anywhere to go tomorrow because I couldn’t even register for a class properly?  Manager calls me back, tells me that the IT department is working to rectify the problem because apparently the inability to apply for jobs isn’t just me.  It’s an actual thing.  Whew!  Now that we’ve spoken she makes a notation and I am free to apply to these jobs even after the 4pm deadline.  Log back into my webmail, turns out I do have the pre-reqs for tomorrow’s training session, too bad I already unregistered.  Wahhhh!!!!!  Oh please, oh please, give me my spot back…best administrator ever!  She does.  I’m back in and back on track.  Walk away.

Time to go pick up my girls.  Thankfully, papa bear made the birthday cake.  Now I just have to ice it.  Oh and wrap the gifts and buy the card.  Can’t get to the gifts because he’s in the bedroom sleeping (I stash everything in my closet).  Leave my girl in the car while I run in and buy her card on her birthday.  Really!!!!  Seriously, it’s been a rough, busy couple of weeks.  Home, back to the computer.  Apply for both jobs…successfully.  Check!  Back into appraisal system….I’m not shitting you when I say I tried about 8 times to order this report.  I finally got it done.  Check!  Really feeling done with the computer.  Sit down to write this…cord comes out, which of course shuts my laptop down immediately because I fried my battery long ago.  Here we go again.

Seemed like a tough day.  I said to my husband, that even if things were static and we weren’t in this pickle that today, with my computer issues I wouldn’t have been able to keep it together.  I’ll admit that I have no patience.  I feel like a dick.  But my daughter, is so lovely.  I don’t spoil them on their birthdays, but I felt like today she was little shortchanged with her gifts from us.  Her cake, although, delicious and super amazingly moist, didn’t ice particularly well.  Not our prettiest collaboration.  All she had to say was that this was her best birthday ever and all she wanted was for me to sit down and snuggle with her.  She knows what’s going on and she showed me today how spectacular she is.  She genuinely seemed to mean it when she appeared happy with her gifts and her dinner and cake.  I felt like I had disappointed her and my hubby asked if there was anything she had asked for that we didn’t already get her.  While we’re feeling shitty, she’s trying to make us feel better.  She’s a gem.  I love her with all my heart.  I’m seeing her grow, mature and thrive.  She’s happy, healthy and loving.  I will work every day to be the mother she deserves.

Happy 9th Birthday Turtle!  I love you so much!

Dear Husband ‘O Mine,

I love you.  Exactly as you are.

You asked me a long time ago, why I love you and I replied for too many reasons to list.  Well, I’m going to try now, to tell you why and hopefully you will really understand that I truly do love you – so much.

You’re hot. lol  You know it, I know it, everyone knows it.  That’s the first reason.  Just joking…but seriously, it doesn’t hurt.  haha

You’re smart.  Not just kind of smart, but ridiculously smart.  I know you struggled in school and I’m sorry that the people raising you and working with you either didn’t have the resources or weren’t qualified to identify what resources would have been beneficial to you.  I firmly believe that every person can learn effectively, and I believe it is a matter of identifying how a person learns and then utilizing the correct tools that makes the learning effective.  I find it very difficult to watch you be judged by people who couldn’t even begin to understand concepts that come so easily to you.  I loath seeing you judged by people who lack perspective, depth, insight and accountability and to see the effect their judgement has on you.  You have been judged by people who are not intelligent enough to recognize your intelligence.  If it weren’t so offensive, it might be funny.  At the very least I might feel a little sorry for them. But because they hurt you, I don’t feel sorry for them.

Your own struggles have made you a wonderful teacher.  You can explain a concept to our kids in a way that I never could and with a patience that I don’t have.  The tricks that you have for math are fantastic and our girls have your knack for it.  Thank God!  lol

You are the best father.  Again, you can relate to our kids in ways that I never could.  You remember what it was like to be a kid and you get it.  I don’t think I ever was a kid, therefore I really don’t get it.  You give our children everything that I can’t.

You are an amazing friend.  You are there for your friends no matter what. To the detriment of your wife at times.

You have the most incredible work ethic.  To your own detriment at times.  Good thing we’re working on that.  🙂

You are beyond thoughtful and kind hearted.  You are generous, welcoming, accepting and forgiving.

You are good enough.  Just as you are.  You don’t need to change anything.  I love you exactly for who you are.  Today.  Right now.  And yesterday.  And as far back as 12 years, 9 months and 14 days ago. For exactly who you were.  We’ve both changed.  I won’t say I’m not grateful for some of the changes you’ve made.  I’m sure you would say the same about the changes in me.  But changes or no changes you’ve always been good enough just as you are.  Beyond good enough.  You need to know that.

I am sorry that you were raised by people who struggle with their own self-worth.  It has, unfortunately, led you to believe you have reason to question yours.  You don’t.  You are amazing.  You should be so proud of the person you are.  You should never question your value.  I know I shouldn’t tell you what you “should” or “shouldn’t” do, but I’m going to, in this case.  You have every reason to be proud of yourself, the man you are, the life you’ve built and the example you are setting for your children.  I know you work on bettering yourself and there are certain things that I am grateful for the work you are doing, but even without the work, you’re amazing.  You deserve to be loved and appreciated by your entire family for exactly who you are, not for an outdated, unrecognizable, inaccurate perception that some people may have.  You are not other people’s thoughts of you.  You are a gift to everyone you meet and it’s a pity for the ones who don’t recognize you as such.  I realize I may be a bit repetitive, but it’s worth repeating.

There are a million and one more little reasons why I love you.  I’ve probably even missed some of the big ones, but these would be the top ones.  The most important point I want you to really absorb, is that you don’t need to change anything about you, for me to continue to love, accept and appreciate you.  You’re all I need.  You’re good enough.  I’ve loved you for the last 29 years of my life and will love you for the rest of it.

Dear in-laws,

I, honestly, must really love you.  Not that it would ever be obvious, but it must absolutely be true.  After all these years, no one else has ever caused me to feel this conflicted.  We are very different, I know, I get it.  It was a bit of an adjustment at the beginning, I admit, but I got used to you.  Hopefully, you have gotten a little more used to me as well.  This past year and half has been the most difficult by far.  Between the accident on one side and living together on the other, it’s been the hardest period of time in my life.  I can’t imagine what it’s been like for my husband, your son, stepson, brother.  Much harder, I’m sure.  I will say though, I do believe that all of you have been placed in my life, for me, to truly understand the meaning of family.

All of you – mostly – make me mental.  It’s true.  I’m sorry.  I know I make you mental too.   I’m sorry for that.  I don’t do it on purpose.  I swear!  🙂  My family, what there is of it, is so different from all of you.  I only know how to be one way – who I am.  I’m blatant, I’m obvious, I’m very much in your face.  There is nothing subtle or complicit about me.  I’m balls-out – all the time.  I know that can be a lot to handle, again, I’m sorry.  This is it. I am what I am and I don’t know how to be anything else.  Having said that, I would really be so happy if that was ok with you.  You’re all freaks, in your own ways, and I’m ok with it.  I’ll admit, sometimes I feel like I don’t love you, but mainly it’s because all of you like to guess what someone else is thinking or feeling instead of being a big boy or girl and just coming right out and asking.  Please, please don’t try to read into my actions.  Take them at face value.  If you are confused or unsure of something I’ve said or done, ask me to explain it or clarify it.  I will do so willingly.  We’re not always going to agree or have the same point of view.  That’s ok.  We don’t have to share a brain to get along or to love each other unconditionally.

I’ve wanted to write about you many times and I’ve found it exceedingly difficult because I didn’t want to be insulting.  Honestly, I’m a few glasses in and it’s finally making sense.  I do, fucking, love you.  I would swallow my arm for us to all get along.  To my sister-in-law, (I have three, but this only applies to one)…I wish you would have accepted me.  I struggle with you and the idea of you endlessly, because, as different as we are, I know we are also very, very much alike.  That kind of galls me, but not so much on the other hand.  I know we could have been amazing friends.  I know you could have been the sister I never had.  I’m so sad that it never happened.

My family is pretty well done now. I grew up without an extended family because of my own parents’ choices.  I don’t want to go on, personally, any longer without all of you and I don’t want that for my husband or my children either.  What I need though, is for all of us, different from each other or the same, to be loved and to be accepted.  We can’t be a family if we can’t be loved for being ourselves.

I’m riding another wave it seems.  I was feeling so fantastic last week.  I will admit to poking a little bit at my friend who’s husband hadn’t slept well the previous night because of the little one.  I made a flippant remark, but the truth is, I completely understand feeling horrible when your partner doesn’t sleep well.  In my case, it’s because my husband is currently the sole provider for our family.  He works at a very physically demanding job and he works horribly long hours. And he’s very hot-tempered.  Friday wasn’t a good day for him.  He called me looking for me to cheer him up and remind him why he’s out there doing his job.  I don’t react well under that kind of pressure.  I’m home with two toddlers all day.  Not a lot goes on here.  Certainly nothing too interesting.  I find it all extremely cute and entertaining, but it’s really not for everyone.  A lot of it is probably only mildly entertaining and at not even 10am we hadn’t gotten very far in our day.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to brighten his day.  From there my day took a nosedive.  I was feeling anxious and worried all day.  He called throughout the day railing about how bad his day was going.  I can’t blame him.  The conditions he often has to work under are absolutely ridiculous.  That is the reality of it though.  The only advice I can offer him is to not take it personally, do his job to the best of his ability and always make sure he stays safe.  When I advise him to stay safe, it is not only for his benefit but the safety of everyone around him.  Part of his job involves operating very large trucks.  By about 3:30-4 that afternoon we knew he wouldn’t be coming home from work that day.  He was quite a distance from home and still had one more job to complete.  He was exhausted because he started work at 2:30 that morning and by the time he finally stopped the clock he had worked a fifteen and a half hour day.  That’s a long day of stress and struggle.  He was hungry, wet and tired.  Long story short, he made it through his day without getting hurt, hurting anyone else or quitting his job.  Huge sigh of relief.

I was wiped.  Emotionally I find it much harder these days to deal with the really hot, raging anger.  It burns me out so quickly and I’m not bouncing back from it like I once did.  Anger used to be my primary emotion.  It was my failsafe, my natural first reaction.  It isn’t anymore.  I am finding that after this past year and a half I have very little defense left and when I get torched the recovery process seems to take forever.  It doesn’t have to be my anger either.  I only have to be faced with it and I’m spent.  I’m guessing this must be something close to a bit of depressive behaviour.  I don’t know.  I’m just guessing.  I’ve never really been through something like this  before.  I did have a spell between my pregnancy with my second daughter and my pregnancy with the twins where I realized I must have been in a pretty dark spot, but I wasn’t aware of how dark until I started coming out of it.  It was only after I started to feel better that I understood how down I had been.  Back in the good old days I was a pretty upbeat person.  I was always having a good time, no matter what.  Of course, I would have down days, who doesn’t, but they didn’t last long.  My pity parties usually only lasted a couple of days before I would lose  my patience with myself and shake it off.  Now, I feel down more days than I feel up and I feel like I’m obsessing over it because I can’t stand it!  What’s worse than that though is that I can’t be bothered to do anything about it.

I know the things I can do that make me feel better.  I know that the hard part of doing those things will be a very short period of time.  I know what to do, how to do it, blah, blah, blah.  I just don’t feel it.  I feel like it would require so much effort to talk myself into doing these things that I just don’t have that energy available.  I know that must sound terrible.  How can I bitch about the way I feel if I’m unwilling to do anything to change it?  I’ve just never felt like this before.

I saw the video of Jim Carrey’s speech posted by different people on Facebook.  I listened to it and watched it yesterday, quickly, and it brought tears to my eyes.  I listened to it again just now and it sent chills right through me.  I loved it (as did many others, obviously).  So much of it sounds so familiar.   Words I’ve heard before and read before many times, in many different places.  It seems like the best and truest words are repeated and shared again and again until they are understood.  A lot of what I read these days sounds familiar.  I’ve heard the message before.  I’m not complaining!  Just the opposite.  It’s  seems to be that what needs to be heard, learned and understood is being shared by more and more people so that the message is being repeated everywhere.  It’s almost like God’s voice is getting louder and his messengers are showing up in forms that more of us can relate to.

I believe in God.  Unfailingly, unwaveringly.  I don’t know why.  I can’t and won’t try to explain myself.  I wasn’t raised in religion, I don’t particularly care for the itty bitty, teensy, tiny bit of religion I have been exposed to.  It’s minute and I readily admit I am completely ignorant of all religions.  I’m sorry if that is offensive to anyone.  It’s not because I want to be, but just simply that I don’t know about it.  Having said that, I absolutely believe in God.  Two totally different things if you ask me.  I’ve always believed.  I remember being very young and talking to God endlessly.  He was my best imaginary friend.  Always there.  Always cool.  The very best conversations.  I remember wanting more than anything to just be able to sit down with God and talk.  About anything and everything.  I always had a ton of questions and really who better to give the answers than the Creator himself.  The older I got, the further from memory that desire got.  Now that I have all these kids I am desperately attached to life on Earth and am prepared to wait patiently at least another 80 years for those one on ones.

My God is perfect.  My God doesn’t judge me.  Doesn’t get pissed at me when I’m not doing what I’m supposed to.  Really doesn’t give a shit if I have a potty mouth or always put my best foot forward, if I get stupid drunk and fall down (back in the day, not now), put my foot it, say something nasty, act like a bitch or if I’m perfect in any way, shape or form.  I am perfect, just as I am, at any given moment.  Just like my kids are.  Just like my husband…he doesn’t have to be perfect, just perfect for me.  Just like you, just like the next guy, just like every single person on Earth.  If God did judge me, he wouldn’t be God, he’d just be any other person I’ve ever met.  God is not a dick.  He doesn’t want war and famine and disasters.  These are just the things we are doing to ourselves.  And when I say “My God”, I mean that.  That is the God I believe in.  In no way am I saying anything about anyone else’s version or idea of God.  I think more and more we need to be accepting of everyone we meet just as they are.  Not as we want them to be, but just as they are – perfect.

I read a lot of different stuff about people who are supposedly very spiritual.  They claim to be so in touch and spiritually advanced, yet they are so judgemental and exclusionary.  They can only accept a situation/person if it follows “the rules” of what they think something should look like.  That’s not very spiritual to me.  I can believe in God and angels and forgiveness and love and also tell you where to go – in two seconds flat.  One thing has nothing to do with the other.  I can do yoga (one day) and eat a massive double cheeseburger and suck back a nice cold pint of Keith’s and it doesn’t make my beliefs any less authentic.  We can all do our best to live up to others’ expectations of what is “right”, but we’re not going to hit the mark every time.  It’s not possible.  And if we did get to that point, we’d be done.  We could all move along to those awesome sit downs with the big guy and chill.

It’s too much work trying to live up to someone else’s idea of how I should live my life.  The best I can do is live it the way I do.  I speak quickly, I act quickly.  There is not much about me that is delivered softly or gently.  I’m straightforward and maybe sometimes too much.  I’ve seen that energy in other people and because of that have tried to temper it in myself.  I’m excited and excitable.  I used to have a lightning quick temper, thankfully, that’s mellowed a bit with age.  I’m doing my best.  I’m striving to be the best mother I can be.  I’m always trying to be the best person I know how to be (I admit to moments when I am not) and if I see a better way of doing something I’m willing to give it a try.  I love hearing other people’s stories and viewpoints.  It gives me endless opportunity to see other perspectives that maybe I’ve never considered.  I want my mind to be open and to see things through others’ eyes.  People are beautiful, they’re stories are incredible and heroic.  Just the day to day stuff takes my breath away.

Love and fear.  I promise to love you because of our differences, rather than fear what I don’t understand.