The Carnival

Pam, Sarah and I took Olivia to the carnival the other night. It was really amazing to see the smile on Olivia's face, she was so happy.

She got on all the rides, and even a few that aren't really for kids. By far, the scrambler was her favorite. She just laughed the whole time and at one point I could tell she wanted to throw up, but the smile never left her face. She rode her first roller coaster and she did it all by herself. She really has no fear, none at all. At one point during the night she spotted the bounce house so we walked over to it so she could jump for a few minutes. Now anyone that knows Olivia knows that she is tiny for her age. Well, the height requirement for the bounce house (and every other kiddie ride) was 35 inches. Olivia falls about 2 inches short of that and wouldnt you know it, the kid was allowed to get on the scrambler for god's sake, but the guy running the bounce house wouldn't let her jump. I couldn't believe it. She was so upset.

While I was riding one of the adult rides Pam took her over to play games and won her 3 fish! When we asked her what she wanted to name them, Olivia demanded one was named Jermaine. Now we have 3 fish. Jermaine, Michael and Tito. We're thinking of going back to get 2 more so we can complete the group.

Sarah sent me the pictures today and the one of her on the roller coaster truly make my heart swell. She was so brave. I can't believe how big she is getting. I definately want to make sure we do more stuff like this more often. We didn't get home until 11pm on a work night, but I think her and I both agree it was worth it!

Oh, boy!

I was sitting on the porch outside with Olivia last night. We weren't doing anything special. It was raining and dark out and we were just chatting. In the last few months I have been able to do this with her, and that is a huge thing since she really took a long time to develop in the speech area. Everything we talk about it still very basic. What color is this? How was your day? You know, nothing really in depth but I do enjoy her ability to answer my questions these days accurately. A few months ago if the answer wasn't no to everything, she just wouldnt respond at all.

So we're sitting outside, chatting about nothing really when she looks at me and says "I like Ian." I ask her if Ian is a friend from school and she replies yes with the tiniest little grin on her face. You know, kind of like the one you got when you had your first real crush in middle school? Yeah, it resembled that one. And she proceeds, "I like Alex." Oh dear. I ask is that another friend from school? Again, she shakes her head yes with that cheesy little grin that lets me know that I am really going to be in trouble some day. Then there was a moment of silence and I could tell she was thinking...hard. She looks up at me and says "They my boyfriend." Yup. There it is. I can not believe I am dealing with this at the tender age of 3.

This morning we go to daycare and I ask the teacher which one Ian is, who by the way isn't named Ian at all. His name is Aiden. She points out this little blonde hair blue eyed boy. And I ask the teacher about Alex. She replies "Alex isn't here today. Why do you ask?" So I explain the whole boyfriend conversation the night before. When I look around I realize Olivia has made her way over to the computer and is sitting next to her best (or is he the 2nd best?) boyfriend Ian. I lean over to give her a kiss and she promptly pushes me back with a stern "Leave me alone!". Apparently I cramp her style.

I make my way to the door of the classroom feeling a little deflated from the obvious and very public shunning from my 3 year old and just as I turn the knob I hear "Mommy!!". Here Olivia comes running across the room and asking for a kiss. I lean down, kiss her and just in the lowest voice she has she mumbles "I love you".

Ah, she may be 3. And she may have 2 boyfriends. She still loves me though. I am not sure what I am in for, or how many more of these boyfriend conversations we'll be having throughout the years but I am sure of two things. One, even when she doesn't want her boyfriend to see it, she still loves me. And two, one day Alex, or Ian, or whatever guy happens to really make her grin, will be a lucky guy indeed. She really is awesome.

On the Move!

Well, I am back. A lot has happened since my last post and it's really damn hard to even touch where I have been these last few months. The truth is, I have been everywhere. I have been up, down and everywhere in between.

My marriage failed. It's a hard thing to say, because anyone who has ever been here knows that it's not really the marriage that failed, but rather the people in the marriage that failed. It's not an easy pill to swallow, but it certainly it what it is. One thing that I have learned is that in the end it doesn't matter who's fault it was. It just doesn't matter. Both parties have failed, and both parties have lost something equally precious, whether they know it or not.

But the fact still remains that it's over. Not without good reason. Not without thousands of hours and the buckets of tears that led me to that point. Not without the moment of hesitation and immense fear that the decision made was the wrong one. Even with all that, it's still over.

So now I am picking up the pieces. Liv and I are searching for better things and even though the reality of what has happened still stings like the air on a cold February morning, we are okay.

I think the thing that amazes me the most about something terrible happening is that something good can always come of it. Every day I look for the positive and every day I know just how blessed I am. Sure, sometimes I have a bad day and wonder why in the hell things didn't end up as I intended them to be but then I think does it really happen like that for anyone? Why in the world would I expect my universe to be so entirely perfect compared to anyone else? I certainly am not going to waste time feeling sorry for myself.

My marriage may have failed. Admittedly, I may have failed. All I really know is this failure has opened so many doors for me that "success" threatened to keep nailed shut forever, so it's hard to regret the mistakes I made. Sometimes life sucks; things don't end up the way you thought they would. It doesn't really mean they ended the wrong way though.

I may have failed. So what? I'm up, I'm smiling, and I am heading for that open door. Life is too short.

By Request

Well, here I am. I intended on hitting the sack early tonight (yeah right!) but as I was waiting for my dear darling daughter to finally land in her sugar coma a dear friend reminded me that I haven't written in days. Actually, she is family but I consider her to be more of a friend, because even if she weren't family I would still talk to her :)

It's been a rough few days for me. My grandmother is in the hospital again and even through her wheezing, she makes time to dance a little in her chair. I laugh on the outside, smiling at the wonder that is my Meemaw, but inside I am terrified. I am terrified to see her sick like she was before. Terrified to imagine my life without her. I can't even begin to wonder what holidays would be like, or even a seemingly simple Sunday. In so many ways she is me, and I am her. In everything I say and everything I do, she is there, nestled in her own little compartment in my heart.

Too many times this last month I have been reminded of how fragile life is, and how quickly things change. In the blink of an eye lives are lost, leaving those left behind angry and confused. Those little compartments in their hearts remain full, and everything they do and say still radiates that person who is no longer here. To laugh with, dance with, to spend Sundays with.

But, if they are in everything we do, and everything we say, and stay tucked away in our hearts just the same as when they were here, have we really lost them then?

Have we......??

I have decided to quit smoking. Currently I am on my last pack in what I call the "mental preparation" stage. This is the stage where I think about the fact that I am smoking my very last pack of smokes and I hyperventilate slightly and light another up, since coincidentally smoking is how I handle change. Man, I am screwed!

I began smoking when I was 15. It started with some friends after school, just trying to be cool. I remember the first time I really smoked, you know, where I lit my very own cig and smoked it all by myself. Inhaling and all. I remember it because when I got home I spent the next 4 hours in bed, begging myself not to puke. For some reason though, I went back for more the next day.

Smoking is also something I hold dear to my heart. I know that sounds weird, but here's why. My grandmother was the first family member I ever smoked with. Somehow this became our bond and our relationship which is like no other I have had with anyone else blossomed over The Young and the Restless and a pack of smokes. Even when she fell ill with lung cancer and quit after 50 years I felt I owed it to her to keep smoking. Again, I am sure that seems weird since she was ill with cancer and it should make me want to quit, but it didnt. Part of me felt that if I gave it up, I would be giving up that bond too. I felt that all those memories we had, just the two of us smoking and telling stories would be gone. I thought if the cancer killed her, at least I would still have that part of her and everytime I lit one up I would think of her.

Finally giving it up is bittersweet for me. It's good because I know that if there is one thing she would like to see before the lord takes her is that hopefully I will not go through what she did. Maybe that is what I owe her before it's too late. The bitter part of it is that I am not really giving it up for her. I simply can not afford it anymore.

Starting in April a pack of brand name smokes her in Maryland will be $6.99 plus tax. At a pack a day, that's nearly $8.00. Times that by two (hubby smokes as well) and we are investing $16.00 a day to essentially commit suicide. Truth be told, if I had that kind of money it probably wouldn't bother me though. Only poor people look for cheap ways of killing themselves. Maybe I will buy a motorcycle with the money I am saving.

So, goodbye cigarettes. You will be missed.
And to my dear Meem as I light my last, this one is for you....

The moments of speaking and someone actually listening to you (and I mean really listening, anyone can HEAR you) are so few and far between. They are caught up in their own lives, their own personal messes that it just seems to be a world where people don't really listen anymore. In one ear, out the other.

My daughter for instance, she hears me. In one ear and out the other. It takes 5 minutes tops before she is back to doing the next thing to annoy me. I can't really blame her, she is only 3. What is everyone else's excuse though?

I too am guilty of just hearing people. I shake my head, and smile. Then I walk away and think to myself "What the hell did he/she just say?".

Perfect example, my aunt called last week to keep me in the loop about their plans to take a trip to New York. Poor circumstances and I just wanted to make sure that my grandfather was taken care of while she was away. The conversation went something like this:

Aunt: "We are leaving on Friday around noon."

Me: "Okay..."

Aunt: "Your cousin is picking up Pop and bringing him to the party."

Me: "Uh huh."

Aunt: "And your dad will stay with him Sunday night."

Me: "Ah, gotcha. Thanks for keeping me in the loop."

I proceed to tell her all about the new puppies that are just a couple days old and all about the birth. We wish each other well and say goodbye.

So the next day I am talking to my mom and confirm she will be coming to the party. The conversation went like this:

Me: "Just wanted to make sure you're coming to the party still."

Mom: "Yes, it's at 2 right?"

Me: "Yep, but you'll have to leave early since you and dad are picking up Pop and bringing him."

Mom: "What? Oh I am going to kill him!! He is always doing stuff like this without asking. I need to go cool off. I will talk to you later!"

Me: "Um, okay."

Mom: "Click!"
(She hangs up the phone angrily)

So after she hangs up, I am thinking for a minute feeling like maybe I missed something. That's when the conversation between me and Aunt starts replaying in my head and I remember that it wasn't Dad picking up Pop, it was my cousin picking up Pop. Oops!

I call mom back in a frenzie. She isn't answering. I call dad to warn him of the unintentional wrath of crap coming his way. He isn't answering. All I am thinking is crap, this is what I get for not listening!!

But that's what I am talking about. How many times do we really listen to someone?? I mean remove all the distractions around us and within us to give someone our complete undivided attention?

Purposely try it sometime. You might be amazed how much you hear someone and how infrequently you actually listen. As I am writing this, I am thinking about how I need to get up and go get my daughter whatever the heck it is she asked for 10 minutes ago...Oops!

Jared

I was thinking about an old friend today. I wanted to post this, just to remind myself that I haven't forgotten. Bear with me, I wrote this when I was 15 and I am writing it strictly from memory today since the original was lost many years ago.

*Jared*

I saw you
and said hello with a smile,
though as we crossed paths though I couldn't help but think
doesn't that boy have anything better to do?

He is always walking down the street,
smoking his cigarrette and dragging his feet.

I was there when they pulled you out of the woods,
one women shook her head and said
it's no suprise,
he was never any good.

He was always walking down the street,
smoking his cigarette and dragging his feet.

Things aren't the same since you went away,
it seems like a dream
so much left unsaid.
I look out the window and silently pray....

Please god let him be walking down the street,
smoking his cigarette and dragging his feet.


***RIP Jared. You are not forgotten.***