Tuesday, June 10, 2014
There, I said it. Somehow I have it in my head that by writing something and posting it on the Internet, I am being self-centered for thinking that someone would actually want to read it. Why do I think like this!? I love to read other people's blogs, and I don't think that they are self-centered.
Why do I have it in my head that it is great that other people can be boisterous and confident in who they are and share it with the world? I will cheer them on in the endeavors in subject areas that I am somewhat skilled in. But, then feel lost and lonely because they are most certainly going to exceed my skill level and leave me behind. I want to help and be involved in my friends lives. But, I just know that I am a more of a nuisance that anything and they are better off without me around. Even my husband.
I know that I talk incessantly. And, two thirds of the time I regret what I have just said. So, it is easier to stay away and not say anything.
I make plans and have dreams that fall through a lot. So, I get mad at myself for telling anyone about them. Because I feel like I have let them down, too.
I am my own worst critic. I need to work on it. A lot. (I can hear my husband yelling, "Amen!" from here.)
But, I started my blog because I wanted to keep a journal. But, I am terribly about misplacing notebooks and such. I figured I can't lose the Internet. I mean, if anyone could it would be me. But, still. So, I am making it a point to write for me. And, if people want to follow along, all the better. But, fair warning. There will be chickens. Lots of chickens.
Psssttt... on the subject of losing the Internet, here's a funny from one of my favorite shows, The IT Crowd.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Friday, April 11, 2014
He started pointing out mothers to me, telling who their children are. Then he says, “If you want to know who anyone is, just ask me.” I informed him I was fine. But, thank you for offering. He goes to a very small school. But, there were a lot of the moms I did not know. There were however teachers and moms that I have known for years. But, it was still a reminder how much things have changed. And, some things have come back around full circle.
I made the same drive at the same time of day that I made for nearly 7 years, this morning. Back before I left my husband. Back before I moved to Abilene. Back before I lost a child. Back before I lost myself.
I am finally starting to pull myself together. And, I don’t mean emotionally. The knee-jerk reaction when getting the divorce was to turn away from anything in my part of my life. Anything to do with the country and farming. I didn’t listen to any country music for months, except for when my so would beg.
It sounds like I had never had any experience with anything country or western except while married. But, that is not true. I was raised in a fairly eclectic family. My grandfather was a rodeo cowboy and a farm hand. My grandmother grew up picking cotton. And, my other grandparents had chickens and gardens. They farmed, too. I remember going back my grandmother’s family home and meeting the turkeys. It wasn’t pretty. They raised them to sell. They opened the doors to a huge barn full of them. They were eye high to me. Traumatized is not a strong enough word.
Well, anyway, back on track. Back around Christmas, Mr. J (aka my Hubs) bought a pair of cowboy boots. He had been wanting a new pair for a good while and found some her really liked. And, since he is very particular about the style he likes, I told him, “Sure, go ahead.” But, on the inside, I was very uncomfortable. The last time I had shopped for men’s boots was with my ex-husband. And, I try really hard not to compare them. But, it happens. Both good and bad. And, even though I dated many men that wore boots, it was still somehow tied to my first message and awkward. But, I was NOT going to tell him that.
Another thing from when I was married originally was that we raised chickens. I taught first grade one year. It was in the small town where my son still lives. Every year the extension agent would work with the first classes and they incubate and hatch chicks. It was a lot of fun. Except for the last few chicks that just did not make it. Luckily, we found them before the students came in that morning. But, I digress. My children also participated in the activity as first graders. Somewhere along the way, my ex decided that we should get chickens. I gained so much enjoyment from them. I loved gathering eggs and tending to them. Even though I grumbled about it.
Well, recently, friends had mentioned they wanted chickens. And, after some checking, I could have them in town. As long as they aren’t too noisy, I would be good. (Our neighborhood sounds like a zoo as it is. And, it isn’t just our house.) So, 2 batches of chicks and 4 ducklings later, I have come to realize that I really am a bit of a country girl. I even want goats, again and a donkey. Those will require moving, in time.
I have started to separate out what parts of me were trying to be a good wife and what parts were me being genuinely happy. I will take a while. But, I finally feel like I am starting to feel like I am getting my feet underneath me. And, part of reassembling those pieces of me I left scattered everywhere has been finding which pieces are truly mine. And, surprisingly, for me, some of those pieces are from the country.
And, I can finally admit how good those boots look on Mr. J.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
And, there is a meme going around about not telling people that you are pregnant when you aren’t. Yes, people take things too seriously and personally at times. But, as a woman who is having a really hard time with the fact that she can’t and shouldn’t have a baby, just stop it. It’s not a subject to joke about. Also, it is terribly unoriginal. If you are going to pull a prank today, at least be original.
I hate to feel stupid. Ridicule cuts me to the bone and I know I am not the only one that feels that way. So, I will take a pass on this holiday, thank you very much.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
I am finally there.
Don't get me wrong. I have not forgot her. She is always there. Always at the back of my mind. But, she has stepped back and let me move forward.
But, then every once in a while, out of the blue, it hits me out of the blue.
I had a baby that grew into a beautiful young lady. And, she is not here anymore. And, she is not coming back. I should be able to call her. I should be able to reach out to her. But, I can't.
Then, there are tears and panic attacks.
Afterwards, I compose myself and go on about my day.
A dear friend should be holding her baby right now. But, she is not because her baby did not make it full term.
My heart is hurting.
For her and for me. I hate that other people can understand what I am going through. It kills me to know that there are other people out there that have lost their babies, whether they be infant or adult.
At the same time, it is comforting to not be along.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Some people see those of us that have self esteem issues as "fishing for compliments." Sometimes it's accurate. More than often not. Just knowing your enough is all we strive for. But, somehow we just don't see it.
So, on behalf of all of us overly talkative, yet terribly anxious types out there. Be kind. Just smile and nod. We know we can come across as a bit anxious and obnoxious. But, we are working on it.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Today, it’s why I will not be watching or reading Catching Fire. I can hear you out there stuttering over your, “Buh-buhhhhhhtttts.”
Thursday, March 6, 2014
When I was in third grade, a terrible and wonderful thing happened to me. The movie Annie came into theaters. Some of you may be thinking to yourself, “And?” This will help. This is a picture of me from third grade. Yep, I had Annie hair. No, my hair wasn’t red. But my brother’s was. I loved the movie. But, I faced a lot of ridicule for having Annie hair. It didn’t help that I went around singing. Like ALL the time.
I learned a lot from Annie. It was the first musical that I sunk my teeth into. I can still sing nearly every word. And, I still sit on the edge of my seat while she his hanging by the tips of her fingers until Punjab rescues her. I cry when she sings “Maybe.” I cry when he sings “Maybe.” I cry through the entire finale, until Carol Burnett rides in on the elephant. Anyway, here are some of the things I learned.
Monday, March 3, 2014
There are certain qualities and tendencies he gets from his mother. But, there are moments when I know his dad is slipping out. His dad must have been a flirt. I also know that he was warm and charming. This I have heard from his aunts. His mother talks about things he did. But, not about him. The pain of losing him is still fresh after nearly forty years.
There are certain smiles and the way that he holds me that you can not teach. They only come naturally. He looks more like his father every day. I love that he has carried on his father's legacy of being a compassionate gentleman.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Well, weird isn’t the word. Wrong isn’t the write word, either.
Unfair is more like it.
Your child isn’t just YOUR child. They are part of the world. Whether you want to believe it or not, your tiny little piece of your own world is part of the great big world, too. Especially when they get older and start school. Or, if your community is aware that your child has medical issues that they are fighting. You family, friends and community members are emotionally invested in your child. The parents of your children’s friends know your child. I found this out after losing Sarah. I had several parents that had stories that their children had brought home about her. They were all good stories that revolved around her concern for others and how they were impressed that she was so comfortable in her own skin.
Cathy… She was literally at my side when they broke the news and the first to console me. I always loved you. But, being there meant more than you will ever now.
Shara… I cannot imagine having to call me. It was not your fault and that should not have been your cross to bear.
Barbara and Ron… The fact that you took the time to come all the way out and wanted to help, yeah… I have nothing. Thank you.
Joy… You stepped and made things happened. You invited complete strangers into your house to take care of me. So much love for you.
Val… No words. Just love.
And, finally Jessica and Jasen… You have seen me at quite literally seen me at my lowest. Including my crashing and screaming. Thank you, my friends. We love you more than you will ever know.
Don’t worry, I tell Mr. J thank you all the time.
Friday, February 14, 2014
This is hard for me to write. Partly because I am afraid that it will come out as bad mouthing my ex. I am not. We have both changed a lot since our divorce. But, I am sharing because I want other people to learn from our mistakes. The prompt for this was when a friend shared that she was told she was a bitch and needed to shut the hell up. I immediately flashed back to years ago standing in the kitchen getting scolded for an improperly cleaned kitchen.
I did not communicate very well in my marriage. I am to blame for the problems, too. But, this is about things that we say that hurt. Especially when they are said over and over again. The phrase that I heard over and over again was, “If you don’t like it pack your stuff and get out.” It was always said in anger. It was only said when we fought. But, it still hurt. I never responded much to the statement. I couldn’t. Those words hurt far too much. I think there may have been once that I actually said, “No. You leave.” If I had started expressing my wants and desires in the relationship from the very beginning, it never would have got to that point. But, I didn’t. The words hurt. And, they stick.
Your value as a person is determined mostly by what you contribute to the world. When I heard my spouse leave, I heard, “We would be better off without you here.” And, he was surprised to hear I had suicidal thoughts and was shocked when I left. My value as a wife and mother mattered more than anything. And, I took the words to mean that I had no value. I felt that it meant I was in the way. (Hearing “Get out of the way.” Or “You’re in the way.” when I was where he needed to get at something has lead me to feel like I am always underfoot or a nuisance. I am slowly moving away from feeling that way. But, there are days that I can’t escape it.)
So, if I ever say I don’t understand why anyone would want to be around me, I am working on it. But, it’s going to take time.
We don’t think about the things we say when we are mad. That doesn’t mean they aren’t what we are thinking.
Next point, sometimes we should just keep our mouths shut. As human beings, we always assume that people want to hear what we think. OK, I am a blogger, so I think and hope that people want to hear what I think. But, I am not going to walk up to someone and start spilling my guts. (To be honest, I tend to get ran over in conversation anyways and make mental notes of what to talk to Mr. J about when we get alone.)
And, you know, sometimes it is OK. But, when it comes to subjects like healthcare, having children, relationships… tread lightly. It is perfectly fine to tell the person that you are there to listen and to talk. But, do not assume they need to hear what you think. There is a blog going around stating that people would not have to give you reasons why they are not having children. Had I been a responsible blogger, I would have stashed the site and shared it here.
The blog is based around the idea that how many children we want and why is our business and that people shouldn’t be expected to spit babies out like a pez dispenser. But, it goes both ways. We shouldn’t judge people or comment on families with lots of children, too. The comments about “Why haven’t you had any children yet? I bet you just can’t wait to have children!” and others of the nature are often meant to show concern or interest. But, generally, it is a sensitive issue.
In other words, remember that we do not know what is best for other people. It is arrogant of us to think otherwise.
My last gripe stems from my job. But, it flows into the rest of my life, too. Sometimes, we need to shut up and listen.
I am the receptionist in an office where people pay debts. A majority of the time, the callers are so wound up with trying to remember what they think they need to say that they get themselves all worked up about it and end up rambling loudly and making a fuss. Then, I still have to make them start all over because I do not know who they are and I have to find them in the computer. When we are so busy regurgitating what we have on our mind that the person we are speaking to can’t keep up, we are fight a losing battle so to speak. A majority of the calls take several minutes of them fussing over something as simple as stating, “I will be able to take care of this on such and such date, if that is sufficient.” All because they decided the person on the other end of the phone is going to be rude and overly demanding.
So, stop. And listen to each other. This is the one thing Jerry and I really have a problem with. Mostly because we are both ADD and our minds wander of the train of thought A LOT. But, we both know we do it and are patient with each other.
So, to wrap things up... 1.) Be kind and choose words that will continue to lift people up. The ones that tear them down will do more damage than you can ever imagine. 2.) Be mindful of what is actually any of your business. 3.) Listen and be patient. Enough said.
And, one last thing. If you are reading this and think that people who get hurt by people’s words need to get thick skinned or get over it, there is a good chance you are part of the problem.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
“Weightless” by All Time Lowe.
“NaNaNaNA” by My Chemical Romance.
“Wagon Wheel” by The Old Crow Medicine Show.
“Highway to Hell” by ACDC.
Those songs I smile and cry my way through.
But, when a song comes out by of the bands that she loved, I am torn. Do I like the song because it's a good song, or because Sarah would have liked it. My taste in music will be forever touched my the taste of a fourteen year old girl. Granted, she had good taste in music. So, I am not complaining. But, it makes listening to music both sad and happy.
But, the ones from the funeral are the hardest to hear.
We called the list of songs we played at the funeral "Sarah's Setlist." And, here it is.
"Good Riddance" - Green Day
"Hands" - The Almost
"Hallelujah" - Paramore
"Lullabies" - All Time Low
"Wagon Wheel" - Old Crow Medicine Show
"Love Story" - Taylor Swift
"What a Wonderful World" - Joey Ramone
"Airplanes" - B.O.B. with Hayley Williams
"Breathe" - Ryan Adams
"Beautiful" - Christina Aguilera
And, these are the two songs we played during the service.
But, most importantly, more than anything else you might take away from this... The ONE thing I hope you take away... Listen with your child when they listen to their music. If I had not, I would not have known her so well. I would have missed out on the opportunity to find out how much she and I were alike. How much I saw myself in her. How much she saw herself in me. And, I have the memory of hearing her sing in my head. I can still hear her voice. It is probably the most precious thing I have.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
I know you have a big day coming up this week. It is a day that you have been anticipating with both dread and relief. On February 6th you will have spent more days on this Earth than your father. You have carried more on your shoulders than any one person should have to. You have carried your own burdens of grief as well as helping the rest of us to carry ours.
I know that you were not aware of that when you took the kids and I into your lives that more grieving would follow. There was no way that we could know we would lose Sarah. And, I feel so selfish letting you help me carry my hurt when I know that you love her, too. You were a friend to her in a way that no one else was. And, you have filled those shoes with Ty, too. You are an example of warmth and affection to he has learned from. The patience you show him melts my heart and gives me peace of mind.
I remember a time when you didn’t know that you would live to see the day that you made it longer than your father. The faith that the rest of the world has in you is so much stronger than you will ever know. You are an example of kindness and compassion. Intelligence and humor. Art and strength.
More than anything else, I am amazed with your never ending patience with me. You love me despite, and sometimes because of, my faults. I am not an easy person to live with. I have panic attacks when it comes to paying bills. I am horrid at cleaning house. I can barely make on complete thought. But, you find me charming and know when I am about to break. And, you know that sometimes I don’t need words, just to be held.
And, in a week when we have friends that are having babies, you listen to my "if we were blessed with children" speeches with patience and understanding. You know that I do not expect to actually have more children. But, you are compassionate about the fact that I want them. You don't flinch when I say, "If we had kids...". This world would be such a grand place if they were blessed to have children you raised from birth.
You are so loved. And, not just by me. Your family, Ty, your friends, even the animals. Thank you for the blessing that you are. I get teary eyed thinking about the influence you have had on us. And, I am so proud of the charismatic, charming, confident man you have become. I loved you before. But, it grows with every step we take together.
With all of my heart,
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Now when he gets to more hands on activities, he blows me away. He is the child that changed a sensor out on a round hay baler at 7 or 8 years of age. By himself. (His father loosened and tightened the bolt for him. But, that is all.) He is going to be a gear head. We are all trying to encourage him to be a mechanic of some sort. He loves it. I am hoping he can work in physics and business courses. I am very proud of him.
I have been rethinking my goals. I love this blog. It is my therapy and I know it has helped other people deal with their own losses. And, I am not going to stop blogging. But, I am going to place another venture higher in my priorities.
As most of you that follow me know, I sew. I love sewing small projects. Baby/lap quilts and blankets, baby stuff, small home décor items, totes and things of that nature. In the past I have done some sewing for a little side money. The business name is Whetsel's Wearables and Crafty Creations. The goal is to get it up and running full time.
Eventually, I want to open a fabric store with a small boutique for the items I make. I want to make this happen. For now, I have started a blog to go with it. But, it isn't quite ready for a grand reveal.
Well, that is all for now. And, stay warm! It's cold out there!
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Monday, January 20, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
”I don’t understand. Come back my baby! Don’t leave me again!” Ophelia screamed as the child dissipated completely. She did not realize that she was sobbing and gasping for air as she grasped at the ground where her daughter had been standing. Every once of excruciating pain that she had felt over the last five years hit her all at once. She felt human for the first time in a very long while. It wasn’t until a gentle hand touched her shoulder that she realized the ghosts were all gone.