Well, it has been a long while since I have done any
writing, more than a Facebook post. I find myself getting very frustrated with
myself and the state of things in my house. (And by house, I mean the actually
building and contents. NOT the people in the building. We are still making
people sick with the happy and kissy face.) It makes it hard to focus on
getting much writing done. I have however made a list of things to blog about.
So, alas! There is hope!!! Earlier today I read a post that a friend posted
about lying on Facebook. I am including the link because it was a great read
and got me to thinking. (That is what a good blog does after all.) So, I am
starting here.
When we post of Facebook, we are generally stating we are
doing. Now, every once in a while, we focus on things that are hurting our
hearts, asking for prayer request or asking for help. I am truly blessed that I don’t have many
friends that just complain. Don’t get me wrong, we whine and mope. But, it is
usually just getting something off of our chest. And, most of my friends are
very witty about it. There are some days that I roll around laughing at some of
you guys.
But, I digress. The rest of the time, we are posting about
the good things, funny moments and sharing pictures. Fair warning to the
parents of beautiful babies, I AM downloading the pictures of your children on
my phone. They bring me happiness and make me happy. So, if your child ever
goes missing, I promise I didn’t steal them. Jerry won’t let me. My favorite
posts though are from the same parents. They post the sweet beautiful families.
They also post about the messes their kids make, the mean things their kids do
or say. They also post about their mistakes. We need to share these things more often. For
example, I have dishes sitting on my tiny counter that I honestly don’t know
how long they have been there. I hate doing them. And, we don’t have the water
pressure or an electrical line to put one in. Maybe know that the world knows
this, I will be more motivated to actually wash them. Jerry usually helps me
with them. But, we both keep staring at the piles of glasses and plates with
the same vacant, “if we look past them, they will disappear” stare.
Our house is also stuck in a remodel stand-off. We are in a
position that in order to fix one thing, we have to fix something else which
will require fixing something else, which will mean a HUGE remodel. Side note:
Popcorn ceilings are of Satan. Not only do they collect dust and flake off when
you bump them, when you have a house that is in need of leveling, you can’t
just patch and making the ceiling pretty when it cracks. Yes, there is a huge
crack in the sheetrock on the ceiling. It is accentuated by the cat5 cable that
my husband decided he had to run to the living room so the Mac could have
internet. He has been sufficiently reprimanded and promises never to do it
again. OK, as much as I hate it, I was mad for about 2 minutes. I quite
literally cannot stay mad at the man. The kitchen needs cabinets in a bad way. Like
a complete remodel. But, the electric is worse.
Now it may seem that I am complaining. But, I am not. I am
trying to figure out how on earth to make this home complete without moving out
and selling both mine and Jerry’s kidney’s to pay for it. One day, I will have
it done. Knowing my luck, it will be right before we have to move. But, until
then, I will have to try to fight off the parade of boxes that are coming into
our house that are impeding me getting anything done.
I am rather impressed that there are not more boxes than
there are. Jerry’s grandmother has had to move and there was a lot of stuff.
For every box he said OK to being sent home with him, he said no to 4. And,
with a parental unit that hoards, I am relieved that he refrained. And, we can
get them to storage for now. But, the problem is that, in the past, when we
have been getting items gathered up to take to storage, we would use the 4 by 6
feet or so entry way of the house to pile up the boxes until we had a chance to
run them to storage. Well, the puppy that thinks cardboard is a yummy treat
prevents us from being able to do so. So, for the time being both the bathroom and
Ty’s closets are full of holiday decorations and a ton of shirts that Jerry’s
great aunt gave him. There is so much stuff that just does not need to be in
the house that we are both overwhelmed.
Some people might say, don’t worry about it too much. But, I
want this house to be a home for Ty that makes him feel at home and wanted. And, right now, it’s getting there. We at
least finally got the 2 sheets of plywood between his bed and the wall out of
the house. Granted, they are still at the end of the driveway behind our old
king sized mattress and headboard. Others might call it looking like “white
trash.” For the moment, I am going with it keeps the bedroom warm. OK, it
really does. But, yeah, I was hoping someone would have walked off with it by
now. I am working on being a better mother. He assures me that I am good Mom.
But, I know I could do a lot better. I love him so much and I am very proud of
the man he is growing into. I want to be worthy of him. I am working on being a
better person for him and for God. They do go hand in hand. One of our next
journeys it Das Whetsel Haus will be looking for a new church home. We need to
find a church home where we can both take communion without renouncing our
beliefs. It’s a little difficult for a divorced Baptist and a Catholic. But, we
will get there.
So, I totally lost track of where I was going with this
blog. The whole not lying on Facebook thing. In general, we don’t talk about
when we have problems. Sure, when I sliced my leg with an exacto knife I posted
about it. I could not pass up something that was that embarrassing. But, I
wouldn’t go on and on about it. Well, maybe about pulling out the stitches or
how it looked like chicken fat. I do enjoy making people squirm. But, I don’t
want people to feel sorry for me.
So, when I do post about how something hurts or makes me
sad, I am probably actually hurting far worse than normal. I had a lot of
people comment about how well I am doing after losing Sarah. Or, how they just
do not think they could go on. What people don’t see are the moments when I can’t
breathe. When I am hurting so bad, I cannot even cry , when all I want to do is
curl in a ball and sob. I have been blessed with ADD. So, it doesn’t last long.
But, it still hurts. But, I don’t want to burden my friends with that. I don’
occasionally post about her. She is my daughter and always will be. When my
friends are having discussions about old stories about their kids, I will
participate. I try to refrain from doing it too much with people that knew her.
I know it awkward for people to hear you talk about a dead child. But, guess
what, she is still my child and I have stories about the honary girl. But, I
try to refrain when I know it will make someone uncomfortable.
Well, I best wrap this up. Just remember to keep it real.
The real stories are way more fun anyway.
