Wednesday, December 24, 2014


We all have them.  We all have tons that we openly admit to others.  We have some darker ones that we keep to ourselves.  We have maybe one or two that we share with a close someone.  Shit if I don't have a half a dozen to two dozen regrets.  I regret making out with my girlfriend because she ended up being a piece of shit.  I regret cheating on Chris Vincent because he really is a good, solid dude.  I regret flirting with that guy behind the bar that one time because I got too drunk and puked all over my shoes.  See, who doesn't have at least a few regrets hidden and tucked away for rehashing from time to time.
Some of us are lucky enough to have that one regret that plays over and over in our minds until it drives us stark raving mad or at least super extra uncomfortable that we tuck it away for another time to dust off and drive ourselves crazy with.  I have one of those, and it's kind of a doozy.  Although, to be fair, whenever one says that, it is, in fact, a doozy to them.  It's my doozy, not your doozy, but it doesn't make it any less shitty. 
I miss my dad.  I remember the defining moment like it was this morning.  He called my house, and I told my then-husband to tell him to fuck off.  I told him to fuck off because I thought I was doing the right thing; having another family member's back.  I mean, hell, he hurt that family member really bad so I was informed.  It was only my civic duty as a family member to stand by this person through thick and thin, no matter the consequences.  I guess I never really did give any thought to the fact that he might not be there the next day to accept my apology should I ever find it in me to offer him. 
I have never in my life felt such remorse for being such a piece of shit to my father as that moment.  I relive that moment just about once every other month.  It doesn't sound like a lot, but when it hurts so bad you cry in your car on the way home from work because you don't want anyone to know what a fucking asshole you feel like, then, yeah, it's often enough.  I wish to my very soul that I had taken that phone call.  I do not believe that he would still be alive this evening because of that.  I just believe that I would have been able to have a couple more months of added memories with my dad.  I am so much like him that sometimes I get angry, but then when I take a minute to think about why he acted the way he did sometimes growing up, and because I am a mom now, I almost fully understand why he reacted the way he did. 
I didn't have my dad's back at an incredibly crucial time.  In fact, I didn't even need to have anyone's back per se, but yet I took sides, I stood a ground that wasn't mine to stand on.  I regret it once every other month, in my car, on my way home from work.  I won't do it again.  You can't walk a fine line without consequences however, and that is why I won't walk that line.  I've chosen the path on which I walk; the path with not the greatest of outcomes, the path with some shitty consequences.  I will continue to choose sides because you walk this earth as a line walker or a back sider.  This time, I choose me. 
I miss my dad.  He deserved so much better than I gave him.  It's up to me to forgive myself for the way I treated him.  Maybe this is the beginning of that self-forgiveness.  I will do for me and mine what I need to do even if it hurts others' feelings in the process.  My only intention is to keep the happiness I have found and helped create close to my heart.  Not everyone is allowed in.  It's my turn to have my own back.  I apologize if some aren't allowed to follow.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

The Best Year

I never know how to start these things.  I go for months without writing in text.  I write constantly in my mind, but something always gets in the way.  It's life because that's what always gets in the way.  The difference between when I used the word "life" a couple of years ago and when I use the word "life" now is something I'm not able to put into words that could describe the difference enough.  I don't even know that I could come close to touching the differences.
I'm sitting here in front of this screen a day and a half before Christmas with the gratitude that a mom of a newborn feels when grandma and grandpa suddenly announce they'll take the baby overnight.  I often feel like I'm going to blow this good shit I have going on by doing or saying something wrong.  I often get my breath taken away from me at times like this when I'm sitting with utter quiet reflecting upon the goodness that I've been allowed to have.
I've had some difficult times; some I've shared with people and some I have not.  I've had more than my fair share of self-doubt, and I know I've said some things I can't take back or thought some things that I hope to hell don't come true.  All those times I have joked about being the reason I have a kid in therapy has come true, and I can openly admit how very grateful I am to have some amazing people in my corner.  I have some serious thank you cards to write to some amazingly wonderful and attentive teachers and guidance counselors, for without them I do not believe my daughter would be as well off as she is.  I always thought I was on top of her and was one step ahead of her.  I have been schooled once again.  Although, I am reminded again and again what an amazing child I have and what a kind soul she has and what a loving creature she is.  I'll take the good with the bad if at the end of the day I can say, yes, that is my daughter and she has a beautiful soul.
I have a kindergartener, and he is a boy.  I have a five-year-old boy.  Yes, yes, I do, and yes, that boy does growl at me more often than not lately, and yes, that boy does Hulk-it-up more than I would like, but that boy also looked at me tonight and Eskimo kissed me with that little freckled nose of his and kissed me for no reason at all.  That's a lie; we went out for pizza, but screw you if you think I won't take that as a win.  I also have a boy who has dealt with more than his fair share of bullshit than he should have to deal with.  He is, after all, a big bother.  I never expected, nor wanted, him to be a big brother.  I loved knowing he was a great little brother who had an amazing big sister.  I've had to come to terms with this in my own way, and while I may be struggling some days, this boy is doing much better than his 40-year-old mom.  I'll take the good with the bad if at the end of the day I can say, yes, that is my son and he has a beautiful soul.
I have this friend who recently said something to me along the lines of my year has had a storybook ending.  That line has had me smiling since I read it because, while I know it hasn't been without its struggles, I do, in fact, have as close to a storybook story as I can have.  There is no storybook ending because, as cheesy as it sounds, it's still going.  I'm still writing that story, and I have plenty of empty pages to keep filling.  The man in question is currently laid up in bed while I write this, and he has had a very long hospital day, but just like my mom instincts kick in with my kids, it kicked in immediately with him.  I always knew I would take good care of him, but the mom inside me is an amazing being.  She took over without giving me a chance to say a word.  She is a pretty amazing chick.  I'm grateful for the hurting human being in our bed.  It gives me another chance to take care of him and to thank him for willingly walking into our lives and making it so that I know what happy really means.
I can say that I am really and truly looking forward to this upcoming year.  I'm realistic and know that there will be downs to go with the ups, but I am ready for them.  I've made it through some shitty moments.  This year hands down has shown me that all the dark hallways have the capability of leading to amazing roads that cross paths with some pretty amazing people.  I do hope I am not jinxing myself by saying any of this out loud.
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Much Love, Much Happiness, Much Strength from me to you,