Happy Happy Birthday

To two of my bestest friends in the whole wide world (cause you're all the bestest in your own ways) - Michelle and Lori. I can't get a hold of either of you and I know you don't read this but maybe one day you will. I love you guys and I hope you are having the best of best birthdays one can have because you deserve it. I only wish I was there to help you celebrate it.

Crushed

I hate being here. I hate it. Hate it. Hate it. I'm being crushed into a person I don't want to be, the person I never was, the person people forced me into being because instead of seeing the good in me. They always always see the bad. Everybody has things they'd rather not be. That doesn't mean you sit there and concentrate on them. They do. Dr. Phil has a definition for these people. It's called the people eater. And I feel like I'm being eaten. And I'm depressed and pissed and want to get the f**k out of here. I want to get back to being me. Some part of me thinks well maybe this is me if this is how I react to this situation. I refuse to believe that it is as much as it feels like it right now. How can ANYthing thrive under these conditions? The truth is they CAN'T. The two siblings I have that chose to stay in this crap are divorced and bitter and hateful and mean. And I've never said that about them but it's the truth. And I don't want to be that way. I feel like I'm shriveling and I can't stand it.

*Poof*

The reason we came out here just went up in a cloud of smoke. I'm not sure if it was ever anything but smoke. Either way it's gone.

So now we have another decision to make. Once again. It's starting to feel repetitive. What to do with our lives. Hubby knows he likes the field he's in. So I told him to go with it. And I will support him. I just hope he does. No more flip-flopping. Not that he ever did much. He always just hasn't known what he wants to do with his life since getting kicked out of the Navy (medical discharge). Just last week he was talking about how he likes what he's doing now and has all sorts of ideas for the different fields it's capable of. Good. Stick with it. I can support you in that. It strains my mentality to support you in not even knowing what you want. You know what you want. Now go for it.

Crushed

I hate being here. I hate it. Hate it. Hate it. I'm being crushed into a person I don't want to be, the person I never was, the person people forced me into being because instead of seeing the good in me. They always always see the bad. Everybody has things they'd rather not be. That doesn't mean you sit there and concentrate on them. They do. Dr. Phil has a definition for these people. It's called the people eater. And I feel like I'm being eaten. And I'm depressed and pissed and want to get the f**k out of here. I want to get back to being me. Some part of me thinks well maybe this is me if this is how I react to this situation. I refuse to believe that it is as much as it feels like it right now. How can ANYthing thrive under these conditions? The truth is they CAN'T. The two siblings I have that chose to stay in this crap are divorced and bitter and hateful and mean. And I've never said that about them but it's the truth. And I don't want to be that way. I feel like I'm shriveling and I can't stand it.

You Must Read This

Catching Sunlight In A Jar



This from one of my favorite reads, Island Girl. The picture is from her post and captures the essence of it completely. Go check it out. And if you haven't discovered her already you'll be glad you did.

You Must Read This

Catching Sunlight In A Jar



This from one of my favorite reads, Island Girl. The picture is from her post and captures the essence of it completely. Go check it out. And if you haven't discovered her already you'll be glad you did.

A Step

We've been living in this house for 4 months now. October, November, December, January. We've had our space. The bottom two rooms are ours, each with their own bathroom, and ours with French doors opening out onto a large patio overlooking the harbor and the sea. My very first goal when I came here was to make it a home in the very sense of the word - comfortable, and relaxing. And I succeeded in the furnishing department. There was one thing I didn't complete. That was the coffee table for the loveseat in the sitting area I created in our bedroom.

We do have a living room upstairs. A very nice one. With great big tall ceilings and beautiful couches, a brand new TV, a beautiful dining set, and a gorgeous kitchen I love to cook in. But my duties - my home, are down here. The laundry, the cleaning, the shower, the school work, the computer, my desk. My duties. Me. After months and months of lamenting that my boys went upstairs the minute they woke up til' pretty much the minute they went back to sleep I realized something. Because they do that I really feel separated, I don't feel complete with my family like we used to be. Because I am not with my boys all day every day like I used to be.

In our old home we had a one story. Our bedroom was right off the living room, as was their's just down a short hallway. The dining area and kitchen was just off the living room. The living room was our central location and we watched movies there, played games there, ran around in silly tag fashion, took naps on the couch there, pretty much ran our lives there. And I've missed that. All because of a single piece of furniture. A place where the kids can sit and have toys at their eye level to design and create. A "tunnel" created by going underneath. A space to write or draw. All for the sake of "having more space to run", which was my reasoning when I couldn't find the appropriate piece of furniture I wanted.

Last night we went to Pier 1 and got this and this. They are not what I had originally wanted but they match my loveseat and work together perfectly to create the sitting area I had once imagined.

Little Man has been playing for the last half hour by my side with his bag of plastic fishies - putting them on the table, underneath the table, around the table. And he has been by my side this whole time. Not upstairs. Not playing in the living area upstairs. By my side. And now he's asking me to play a game with him. I'm loving it.

A Step

We've been living in this house for 4 months now. October, November, December, January. We've had our space. The bottom two rooms are ours, each with their own bathroom, and ours with French doors opening out onto a large patio overlooking the harbor and the sea. My very first goal when I came here was to make it a home in the very sense of the word - comfortable, and relaxing. And I succeeded in the furnishing department. There was one thing I didn't complete. That was the coffee table for the loveseat in the sitting area I created in our bedroom.

We do have a living room upstairs. A very nice one. With great big tall ceilings and beautiful couches, a brand new TV, a beautiful dining set, and a gorgeous kitchen I love to cook in. But my duties - my home, are down here. The laundry, the cleaning, the shower, the school work, the computer, my desk. My duties. Me. After months and months of lamenting that my boys went upstairs the minute they woke up til' pretty much the minute they went back to sleep I realized something. Because they do that I really feel separated, I don't feel complete with my family like we used to be. Because I am not with my boys all day every day like I used to be.

In our old home we had a one story. Our bedroom was right off the living room, as was their's just down a short hallway. The dining area and kitchen was just off the living room. The living room was our central location and we watched movies there, played games there, ran around in silly tag fashion, took naps on the couch there, pretty much ran our lives there. And I've missed that. All because of a single piece of furniture. A place where the kids can sit and have toys at their eye level to design and create. A "tunnel" created by going underneath. A space to write or draw. All for the sake of "having more space to run", which was my reasoning when I couldn't find the appropriate piece of furniture I wanted.

Last night we went to Pier 1 and got this and this. They are not what I had originally wanted but they match my loveseat and work together perfectly to create the sitting area I had once imagined.

Little Man has been playing for the last half hour by my side with his bag of plastic fishies - putting them on the table, underneath the table, around the table. And he has been by my side this whole time. Not upstairs. Not playing in the living area upstairs. By my side. And now he's asking me to play a game with him. I'm loving it.