Fighting With A Sexy Man

"Marie!  Come upstairs and do the dishwasher!" I yelled down the stairs.

From Denai's bedroom, "Babe, can you talk a littler nicer?"

How the hell do you sound nice when you're yelling down the stairs? 

"I wasn't being mean!" I hollered back to Mr. Sexy.  

"Was I being mean?" I obnoxiously asked Marie as she came up the top step.  She smiled bashfully and shook her head no. 

"See?" I called playfully down the hall.  "She didn't think I was being mean at all!" 

The sun was shining and the house was smelling good because we were getting lots of chores done AND Mr. Sexy and I had cuddle time during two whole episodes of one of our favorite shows: Parenthood. 

I went into the kitchen with my cleaner and Mr. Sexy was behind me.  I playfully threatened to spray him if he didn't get out of my way.  

"Don't spray my shirt!  Bleach will ruin it!"  He was serious.  But I wasn't.  And he didn't move.  So I sprayed.  Just a tiny spray and not even really at his shirt.  It more went into the air then anythinge else.  At that point I saw his face officially change into his seriously mad face and he walked away.  

Wonderful. 

The fight had started.  

Mr. Sexy and I don't fight often.  And when we do it's not usually the yelling and slamming doors kind of fight.  I would say our fights are pretty intense though.  The house gets quiet and the tension is painful.  Conversations are hard but eventually they happen and we work through our difficulties.  A lot of times, for me, this process takes a few days.

At first I wasn't sure what our fight was about - which isn't a great place to be in.  While Mr. Sexy was fuming I was still feeling happy in all the sunlight and clean floors and clorox smelling toilets.  But I had to break the silence and ask what he was so mad about.  Things like spraying him with cleaner (not that this happens often) doesn't typically upset him other than in a playful way. 

The answer I received was far more intense than I was prepared to receive.  

I went through my own set of emotions.  First I was hurt and I actually felt wronged by him.  Then I felt guilty.  Then I was angry too!  

It took a few days for us to work through our feelings together and to remind each other (and ourselves) that above all else we love each other.  Even if we both think we are right about how to store avocados.  (in the fridge or on the counter?) 

All this to say: I hate fighting with my husband.  It's very difficult to be mad at him.  He is so darn cute!  Even when he is giving me his intense eyes.  

On the positive side, I like how Mr. Sexy and I have fights.  I like when we don't yell and we can go about our business until we are ready to dig in.  More than that, I'm glad that we don't hide from each other or the situation at hand.  The easier route is to tell the other person exactly what they want to hear.  I tell myself all the time that's the best idea to get out of the hot seat.  But it doesn't work partly because Mr. Sexy can see right through me.  

So, although our honesty is painful at times, the outcome is a stronger marriage.  

5MF: Mighty

5 minutes of unedited, unpolished messy writing on the word: Mighty.  Starting now.

Mighty warriors.  I'm thinking of my 6-year old son and the 5 minute story we read last night about the Avegners and how Captain America was found.  I was thinking about how at his age I believe I was more interested in love stories and princess and the color pink than The Incredible Hulk and making sure everything is blue because blue is for boys ONLY.  That's what he thinks anyways.

I hope Michael grows to be mighty like Mr. Sexy.  Mr. Sexy never gives up.  Too often I don't have faith in his ability to fix what is broken.  It hurts him and usually he doesn't even tell me.  Michael has that same mentality.  "Oh this didn't work.  I guess we should just go home and give up."  That's basically what he said while Mr. Sexy failed - again - at getting our truck out of the mud a few feet from our house.  (The mud is crazy out here in these fields.)

Mr. Sexy doesn't know the word failure.  This reminds me of Einstein.  Although my husband is MUCH hotter.  ::wink wink:: Instead of seeing failure, he sees a new way, a better way.  I can't always have that mentality and my 6-year old soon who (as far as I can tell) has a gamer for a biological father, well, he allows failure to happen to him too.

So I hope that Michael will persevere like Iron Man.  I hope that he will find new ways to conquer the challenges that will come his way in life.

5 minutes went by fast today!  Hope you liked it!

 

My Journey Through Parenthood

Parenting is a hard job and a personal one.  As a parent I make choices minute by minute and the world gets to see the effect on my kids.  It's an ideal situation. Not.  So I'm not here to lay out a bunch of tips and how-to's on parenthood.

I'm simply excited to be writing about my experiences as a parent, co-parent and step-parent.

If you're new to my blog, let me explain.


I'm a parent.  Denai was born in April, 2013 and her dad is Mr. Sexy.  She is going to be a one-year old very soon!

April 3, 2013

I'm a co-parent.  Michael was born in January, 2008.  I had just turned 20 and at the time his dad was my boyfriend.  That boyfriend is now an ex-boyfriend who ended up married to his high school sweetheart.  No love lost there on my part.  We were never a good match.

January 26, 2008

I'm a step-parent.  Marie was born in November, 2001.  I was about 14 years old.  Mr. Sexy was in his early 20's and in a bad marriage which ended in divorce.  Enter me.  I became Marie's step-parent officially, July 23, 2011.  Oh yeah.  She also has a disability called down syndrome.  I'm also  homeschooling her for the first time this semester.

July 23, 2011

I have a lot to say about being a parent and I'm ALWAYS learning how to do it better.  Below is a list of my favorite books about parenting which have largely shaped how Mr. Sexy and I try to parent our kids.

Shepherding a Child's Heart was a gift for me at Michael's one year birthday party.  Best. Gift. Ever.  I was a single mom with no prospects and absolutely clueless on how to parent.  This book taught me groundwork for the kind of parent I wanted to be.  And just like the title says, it's about the heart.  

The 5 Love Languages crosses over into all relationships for me and has helped me understand my husband and my kids better.

Parenting with Love and Logic was recommended to us while I was in counseling regarding my issues with step-parenthood to a special needs child.  Mr. Sexy read this with me and it opened our eyes to a way of parenthood that we hadn't known before.  We learned that we can love our children and still allow consequences to happen.  We immediately began utilizing what we learned and the outcome was phenomenal.  In some cases, I felt like my learned techniques were magical.  

I hope you will join me as I discuss my journey through Parenthood.  Every day is a different topic and a link will be added to this page to keep all posts together.  Feel free to email me or write a question with any of your own personal experiences, thoughts or questions!

This is going to be fun!

April is all about: Parenthood

Afraid
Blastoff
Consequences
Disciplined Date Night
Exhausting
Feelings
Guilt
Heart
Insecurities
Judgements
Kindergarten
Letting go in Love
Mommy, Mrs. Sexy then Me
Nails on the Cross
Other Parents
Poop
Quitting
Rewarding
Step-Parenting Special Needs
Timothy
Untruths
Victory!
Where's My Water
X-Rays
Yelling and Screaming
Zig-Zag

*Topics subject to change when I sit down to actually write each post.

I am participating in the 2014 A-Z Challenge!

WW: "Teamwork"

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A Muddy Adventure and A Bedwetting Update

We bought a new truck. Isn't it spiffy? 

So it's not brand new off the car lot and shiny and smelling like that new car smell we all love.  The door handle may be broken and the steering wheel may be upside down but Mr. Sexy says it runs great.  It was in our price range (of very very cheap) and Mr. Sexy is good at fixing cars. And apparently, he's not a minivan type of guy.  I guess he prefers a jeep or truck.  Go figure.

Today was our first day of our new schedule of me sleeping in a bit and only leaving the house to pick Michael up from his half-day kindergarten.  I was REALLY excited for tomorrow when Mr. Sexy would be taking Michael to school and Michael would get to experience the joys of a stick shift for himself.

Well, as I was in the middle of making dinner, Mr. Sexy calls to tell me he got stuck.  On Rudd Road.  It's a back road that will take you to our house.  What am I saying.  EVERY road is a back road out here off the high way.  But Rudd is different.  I think I went on it once by accident and ended up backing out because it was too scary.  But Mr. Sexy is a boy.  And he likes to do boy things.  So he took his new toy out on the crazy road we will tell everybody NOT to take.  EVER.

And what do you know?  It got stuck in mud.

As Mr. Sexy was telling me this over the phone I saw that Denai had peed all over the kitchen floor (I was letting her butt air out and took it a bit too far).  The french toast was burning on the stove at that point and then I noticed the ground beef juices were all over the fridge because there was a hole in the bag.  This was all happening at the same time.  It was a crazy short period of time.

So after dinner and after our family hike around the property Mr. Sexy and Michael set off to get the truck unstuck.  Mr. Sexy didn't want to take Michael at first because it was quite a hike and already getting late.  But Michael was begging and begging and we are always trying to encourage him to want to do these kinds of things - like hiking, working on the cars with dad, riding bikes, running the dog crazy, all that boy stuff.  So off they went together.  I was a little nervous.  It was dark and I wanted both of them to have a good time.

Well, I think they did.  They came back exhausted having hiked to the truck and back again.  They also came back having a great bonding experience.  It may appear small tonight.  But as my two favorite boys go off together again and again it will turn into something great.  I'm really excited about their relationship.

So, my husband, in my sweet opinion, did a not very smart thinking by taking Rudd Road home  today.  BUT it's ok.  I wouldn't even change it.  My boys had an adventure tonight.  And I'm proud of both of them.

From our family hike after dinner.
He was all about running and climbing and jumping EVERYWHERE.

Bedwetting Update

Mr. Sexy and I are thinking Marie's bedwetting issues are directly connected to her bowels which was pointed out by her doctor about a month ago.  We had her on some medicine which made her have to poop ALL THE TIME and it got so bad she started having poop accidents at night!  Augh!  So we quit with the meds.  And she was dry.  Every night.  She was dry.  WOOOOO!!!!

Then we weren't so on top of making sure she pooped every day.  Things got stressful with her getting up at night and now she can't leave her room at night.  She has been peeing her bed.  

Last night, however, we put her in the bathroom for like an hour and she POOPED.  AND her bed was dry this morning. 

So tonight, we stuck her in the bathroom for like an hour (maybe not that long) and she POOPED!  Soo...fingers crossed????

5MF: He Promises Joy

5 Unbridled Minutes on the word: Joy

"Are you happy, Babe?"

My happiness is irrelevant.  

Yes, it's great to be happy and feel the squishies.  But it's irrelevant.  

If I did my life based on my feeling of happiness, well, wait a minute, I do tend to live my life based on my feeling of happiness.  

Which is something I am trying not to do these days.  

Happiness comes and goes.  It's elusive.  The emotion of happiness is easily faked and tends to give me a false sense of peace about my life.  Besides, God never said he was too concerned about my happiness.  

I don't feel happy when Marie pees her bed.  I don't feel happy when I stub my toe.  I don't feel happy when Mr. Sexy and I have an argument.  I don't feel happy when the sky is one shade of gray.  I don't feel happy when Michael leaves home to spend the week with his dad.  I don't feel happy when a character I love on Grey's Anatomy dies or leaves.  

See?  Elusive.  I cannot always feel happy. 

But joy, on the other hand. That is always available.  God does promise to give me joy. 

When crappy life stuff happens I don't have to be unhappy.  Or happy.  But I can have joy.  And that's a choice I make.  Even not making a choice is still making a choice.  No choice is still a choice right? 

Okay, well, that's my 5 minutes on the word: Joy. 

Bed Wetting is Still an Issue

This has been a hard week.  But what's new right?

Finding Winnie's dog food and dog treats in Marie's bed this week crossed the line.  Again.  And I was done.  This just couldn't continue.

We have been recording her activities at night which has been interesting.  She seems to have a pattern of when she gets up and she seems to be looking for something.  Food, of course.  Or anything edible.  Also she crawls up the stairs (being sneaky even though she is alone) which has a locked door at the top so she can't raid the kitchen.

Eating a little bit of dog food never hurt anyone.  But binging on it would.  Like when Marie ate her vitamins last year.  Thankfully she didn't eat the whole bottle but she did eat enough to make her throw up at school.  So Mr. Sexy agreed with me that it would be okay to create a barrier so Marie could no longer leave her room at night.  This way we are able to focus on her bed wetting issue. (We are working on two behavior issues at a time.  One big one and one small one.  We have charts and an awards system and everything.  It's kind of like a fun game.)

Speaking of bedwetting...she hasn't wet the bed in weeks.  Easy peasy.  I wanted to discontinue our chart system with the bed wetting and instead focus on the getting-up-at-night issue.  But after some discussion Mr. Sexy and I agreed we need to finish it out with the bedwetting.  She needs the success of not wetting her bed for 30 days at which point she gets her reward: A new bed, new bed sheets, new pillow, the WORKS.

Three nights ago we created a barrier so she can't wander around downstairs for half an hour at a time.  Two nights ago she wet her bed.  I had to search and sniff around  because it wasn't that potent.  Last night she wet her bed again.  This time it was more obvious.

It's a frustrating and curious turn of events.  On one hand I feel like she's being a brat by deciding to pee since she can't leave her bedroom.  On the other hand, we took away the control of her leaving her room at night so now she is taking back control of peeing in her bed.  I'm no psychologist.  I'm pretty clueless on the "why" for all these things.

So we are back to square one with the bedwetting.  Maybe tonight will be a dry night...

Always, You Are Good

Things are hard.  All the time we run into road blocks.  Sometimes I can't see a way around them, through them or over them.  Everything looks bleak and there is no light to keep me going.  Then sometimes I can get a glimpse of the bigger picture.  I can stop and realize that in the midst of crisis our basic needs are being met every day.
 

We bought a truck yesterday.  It's old and ugly AND a manual.  I won't be in the driver's seat unless Mr. Sexy feels I need to learn how to drive it...  This truck is very exciting for us!  When Michael is home me and the girls spend a little over 3 hours in the car driving everyone to where they need to be.  That is 3 hours of just driving.  Now that we have a second vehicle my driving time has been reduced to about 30 minutes.  I can't wait for Michael to come home so we can relish the freedom of being a two car family!

A few hours after having the truck home I took a step outside.  Mr. Sexy took our new truck to the woods to haul up some firewood for that night and the next few days.  Although old, it runs much better than the truck that came with this property (which is currently stuck in mud a few yards from our house.  It gets muddy out here.)  I took a step outside, I see break lights and I hear "!@#$" which echoed a few times.

I knew exactly what that meant.  The truck was loaded with firewood and now stuck in the mud.  I wouldn't get the van to take Marie to get pedicures the next day.

My stomach was turning over as I went back inside.  I already knew how upset he was at yet another roadblock.  It's rare for me to see these situations in a lighter tone.  But I did last night.  I stood for a few minutes, leaning on the dining room table, telling God the facts.

We just bought this truck.  Actually we only halfway bought it. 
We got it to make our lives easier.  To try and stop some of the chaos that goes on every day. 
Now our new truck is stuck in the mud. We can't get firewood.  Mr. Sexy can't take it to work tomorrow.
And Mr. Sexy is mad.  He's so mad.  
But thank you that you provide for us. 
We have a home to stay warm. 
We have a kitchen full of food. 
We have our van to get Mr. Sexy to work. 
Thank  you for always taking care of us. 

Everybody goes through hard times.  Everybody has roadblocks.  Yet our lives often feel plauged with roadblocks.  It's not enough that we are dealing with a blended family and special needs.  But we have money problems.  And ex-wives.  And cars that stop working or get totaled.  And the list could on... and on...

Sometimes I try to rationalize all the hard stuff.  I tell myself, we must be doing something wrong.  I ask myself, what am I supposed to be learning?  What am I missing?  Sometimes I can answer those questions.  But not all the time.

I think that all the time, in everything, I am supposed to be continuing to lean on God first.  I'm supposed to trust him when it seems there is no solution to fix the problem.  I am supposed to be thankful in all things because He is good in all ways.

But frankly, can't we just buy a vehicle and have it work without any roadblocks?!

5 Hearts: One Team

"Remember, we're a team, babe."

I forget that we're a team.  I forget that I don't fail alone.  I don't succeed alone.  WE fail.  WE succeed.

Since we have been together I have seen my struggles with Marie as just that.  MY struggles.  What I'm only beginning to see after all this time is that my struggles are his struggles too.  I have never really allowed myself to lean on him.  I have leaned on others, of course.  For the most part I have scared those people away.

Something has been clicking lately, though.  Maybe it's because we moved into a house in the woods with little distractions.  Maybe it's having Mr. Sexy home for dinner every night.  Maybe it's homeschooling Marie and seeing how the public school system has failed her.

In some ways I lean on Mr. Sexy in a way that is unfair.  There are thoughts, feelings and emotions that I have that are hurtful toward Mr. Sexy as her daddy.  She and him have a heart connection.  They have "the fluffy's" that I don't yet share with Marie.  Perhaps I never will which is a very realistic possibility.  Yet we all still need to live together, respect each other and care for each other.  Even if we don't all have a love connection .

The love connection, for me, took a few weeks into Michael's life for me to find.  I had spent my entire pregnancy regretting mistakes and feeling embarrassed.  So when baby arrived he didn't feel like mine.  At first.  But the love connection happened.  It grew and grew and grew.  With Denai the love connection was immediate.  I had a wonderful pregnancy full of excitement and hope so when she was born I was enthralled to hold her in my arms and call her MINE.

Marie is different for obvious reasons.  I didn't give birth to her.  I didn't grow her in my body.  I wasn't there to see her take her first steps or learn her first words.  I wasn't there to teach her how to go to the bathroom or how to behave when wearing a skirt.  I showed up when those skills were already being taught if not already engrained in her mind.  I never had the chance to allow a love connection.  I have tried to force it which was never fun.  Even if our impromptu dance party appeared fun by smiles and laughter I knew I was forcing my arms to swing back and forth and for the smiles and laughter to come out.

Yesterday was a failure.   After watching the video footage from that night I saw that she spent twenty minutes in the den.  I couldn't see what she was doing but I could guess after seeing remnants of eaten crayons in Marie's bed.  This made me mad.  Very mad.  I did not respond in a loving manner.  I responded based on how I felt.  Thus, I failed.  We failed.

I do believe that we each should take personal responsibility for our actions and that one day we will all be held accountable.  When I make a mistake I should take responsibility and not blame something or someone else.

At the same time, a family is one unit.  We are not alone in that unit.  We celebrate together, we lift each other up and we work together to grow and be closer.  So as we all make mistakes and say mean things to each other, I would say that constitues as a failure.  As we enjoy time together playing games, I would constitue that as success.  So as a family we should be lifting each other up through the good and the bad.  It's not just my job to make good choices.  It's Marie's job too.  And Michael's.  And Mr. Sexy's.  And one day very soon Denai will be joined in the mix.

"I'm sorry we failed."

It felt weird to say that yesterday.  I knew he wasn't the one who got angry at Marie.  He wasn't the one who ate the crayons and tried to hide it.  But he is part of this family.  And we are a unit.

We fail together.  We succeed together.

It's a Crowd in Here: 5MF

Today's Word: Crowd

My mind feels crowded.  Mr. Sexy has begun some major behavior modifications for Marie.  I'm part of that process, too.  I'm grateful that I haven't had too much thought into the making of the plan.  I am just following directions and doing what I'm told.  The best I can at least.

Today is Day One.

And it's already been taxing.  I have a huge list of behaviors I get to ignore.  Some of the biggest ones are Marie's constant popping of her wrist and toys and how much she plays with her mouth and face.  I get to put a tally mark on the white board each time I ignore the behavior and each tally mark is one point.  You know what that means right?  Points mean rewards!  Mr. Sexy has a reward system for me and I have no idea what it is.

It's still hard though.

Marie has a reward system too although she doesn't know it yet.  Mr. Sexy will have to explain it to her when he comes home tonight.  I don't understand his chart he made for her. lol  But basically, Marie has two behaviors that she is working to overcome.  The BIG one is bed wetting.  The not-so-big one is licking her lips.

OMG.  I just realized I don't have to be ignoring her licking lips fettish!  Mr. Sexy will laugh hard when he reads this.

Anyways, she has a goal for how long she goes without doing those behaviors. The licking lips behavior probably sounds weird and silly.  However she is CONSTANTLY doing what I call "weird things" with her mouth which causes very dry lips and dry skin around her lips.  I moisturize and chapstick her which helps.

Oh yeah.  I also get to give Marie stickers throughout the day if she does anything remotely positive and good.  She is working on her school and says, "There is a problem."  So I say, "Go get a sticker."  This makes me laugh.  She gets a sticker for having a problem? Haha No.  She gets a sticker because she actually told me there is a problem!  That is a major positive for her.

I have over gone my 5 minutes.  But as you can see, my mind is very crowded.  Mr. Sexy has already given me "permission" to make myself a margarita.  Not that I need his "permission" in the first place.

Happy Friday!  I'm looking forward to my weekend!

Linking up with Lisa-Jo for 5 minutes of unedited writing.  It's a fun challenge!

The Ups and Downs

Things have been so hard lately.  Most days I just feel like crying.  So I have a beer.  Sometimes the tears come and sometimes they don't.  

I don't need my faults pointed out.  I am aware of every poor decision.  

However I often need to be reminded of my victories.  I don't always see those clearly.  

For instance: Marie got a question right on her worksheet from last night.  It's a question that we have spent an incredibly huge amount of time on.  "Does everybody in the world have the same basic needs?"  It's a simple question with a simple answer.  But after weeks of studying through the subject of wants and needs she is finally getting answers correct.  

And that's all me.  I take full credit gladly.  

Another victory:  Just now I came downstairs and Marie held up some tissue saying something so quietly I of course couldn't hear her.  I was upset with her so I was very stern with my "What did you say?"  I got closer and she told me she killed a stink bug.  I had to smile and give her a high five.  I take full credit for that as well.  Like me, she squeals in horror when she comes across one of those darned things.  Also like me, she gets over herself and kills it.  Unlike me, she walks calm and quiet to the bathroom to throw it away.  I continue my squeals of horror for a few moments after I have dumped the stupid bug in the toilet.  I get shivers just thinking about it.  Stink bugs are terrible.  

Mr. Sexy met with a behavior specialist who had some interesting thing to say about Marie's behaviors. 

 First, she thinks Marie's behaviors are mostly attention desired.  Marie is steal dealing with the fact that Voldemort left (4 years ago) and that I'm her mom now.  

Second, the specialist related to my story of being a step-parent to a special needs child and not finding any connection.  She has an adult step-son with a disability whom she has never loved and never will.  As I say that I see it sounds crass and many may see this woman (without knowing her) as heartless.  I don't know her but I hope to meet her at some point.  

She. Gets. It. 

And she voices it.  

I've got to say I believe I have come across only two other blogs where the true ups and downs of parenting a special needs child is portrayed.  Every other blog (that I have found) is overflowing with smiles and fluffy thoughts about there normal special children.  Everyone copes differently and there is nothing wrong about blogging about the happiness.  It just makes me feel like there is truly something wrong with me when I don't have the happiness. 

Is there truly something wrong with me?  

Some would say hell yes.  Some would say my life is obviously stressful and even, at times, hellish.  

I say, not.  I am a human being full of flaws yet made perfectly in God's image.  (Or is it Jesus' image?  The trinity still confuses me sometimes).  

Life is a struggle.  

Right now, today, in this moment, I struggle.  Marie is working through her last chore: garbage duty.  She does it every week.  Yet tonight she is not completing her task.  I don't know why.  She knows what to do.  She has told me.  She has done it before.  But instead of moving forward she is standing in a room and doing nothing. 

This brings me to the last point.  The behavioral specialist said that Mr. Sexy and I need to allow Marie to work through her obstacles - providing she is given the appropriate tools to accomplish the task at hand.  We should not be giving her hints and telling her what to do next when completing her task.  She needs to work through her humps herself.  Even if that means standing in a room for two hours.  That makes sense if she is seeking attention, right?  Oooh when I don't do my chores mom and dad talk to me A LOT.

So I am going to take my beer to the couch and veg to some American Idol while Marie contemplates her journey to the next trash bin. 

   

Happy Baby: Wordless Wednesday

It's a Wonderful Marriage

The green beans are sizzling in butter and I'm worried it's too much when I feel the brush of his lips against my neck.  It tickles like crazy but as I try to squirm away his arms wrap around my waist holding me still.  There is no getting out of this one and he sings a love song in my ear.

That's my husband.  That's Mr. Sexy.  He is damn fine.  Hehehe.  But more than that.  In so many ways he is the glue keeping our family intact.  Every day he works hard for us and has a minimal amount of time to just sit and rest.  I don't know how he stays sane. 

I enjoy marriage.  I love marriage.  I'm incredibly happy to be married and I revel in the fact that being together feels like a mere chance of paths crossed.  But it wasn't a chance at all.  It was a well planned meeting full of twists and turns and big surprises as we have fallen more in love these past 3 years. 

I like to paint a pretty picture on my marriage.  It's easy to do.  Yeah, life has been rocky and not just in the first year.  It's rocky still.  Our foundation has kept us stable through everything and I love to share that with other people.  

I have a husband who enjoys pleasing me so much.  I have a husband who puts every member of our family before himself.  Daily.  My husband actively engages in the hearts of our kids - and in the heart the woman he loves.  Oh!  I think that's me!  

So you see?  I have so much to share about how wonderful marriage is!  

However it's not perfect.  Nope.  Not even a little bit. 

Last week I had his phone while he was at his play rehearsal.  I'm snoopy so it's a given I checked his facebook and email for him.  Nothing interesting on facebook...then I saw the top email in his inbox. 

 Progressive Insurance.  Overdue.  Large balance.  Coverage terminated. 

My heart beat a little quicker and a knot started to form in my stomach.  He did it again.  He lied to me.  I was hurt and disappointed.  And angry, too.  

For some reason he was continuing to make financial decisions without my involvement.  I have told him over and over again I just want to know what his decisions were so I wouldn't be blindsided when I see this stuff on my own.  I knew texting him in my anger wasn't the right answer.  So I did it anyways.  

I didn't expect him to be so apologetic.  I didn't expect him to be so understanding of my feelings.  This is why I call him amazing.  He told me he would do better with involving me in our finances.  Of course, I had heard that line from him many times.  He reiterated it to me when he got home that night.  

He still isn't used to having a partner to make decisions with.  He had been making money decisions by himself since...his first marriage, I guess.  Voldemort wanted no part in the finances at all.  But that's not what I wanted for our marriage.  I wanted him to be able to make our financial decisions because he really is better at it.  I simply wanted to be kept in the loop.  Yet continually I was left in the dark. 

This battle is not new and I have my fault in it as well.  Our money situation tends to bring out the Captain Morgan in me.  But since our last conversation Mr. Sexy has already made a few moves to include me on financial choices.  In fact just last night we went through our budget.  It took less than 5 minutes.  No stress.  No wine.  No fuss.  

It's a struggle for him to remember that I want to be aware of what our money looks like.  It's a struggle for me to see our checking account because usually we are dangerously close to ground zero.  

I still love being married.  And I love being married to Mr. Sexy.  Even when I'm pissed at him I still love him and crave his hugs and kisses.  I find that so frustrating!  Sometimes I just want to be mad and revel in that for a bit.  I can't be the only one that is so silly!  But somehow I can't stop loving him no matter how much he tries to cuddle with me at night while he is snoring like a gorilla .... Do gorillas snore? 

5MF: Am I Willing

Willing.

Am I willing...
To sit and be still and alone with my thoughts.
To stand before Jesus and tell him my failures.
Oh wait, he already knows those.

Am I willing...
To contine fighting the Good fight.
The battle that rages war in my soul.
The battle where sometimes I come out on top.
Other times, not so much.

Am I willing...
To love with passion
To love without fear
To love no matter what happens.

Am I willing...
To forgive
Over and over and over
To forgive
To let go
To relax my expectations
of you, of me.

Am I willing...
To say Jesus you are my everything
and actually mean it
To scream to Him
instead of hurting those around me
I know He can take it
It's why He died for me.

Am I willing...

Linking up with Lisa-Jo

 

Twitter Baby

I'm a twitter baby. I constantly feel lost in the whirlwind of these different technologies.  You might not guess that I majored in video production in college.  I'm actually not very technically savvy.  But oh well.

So here I am: On facebook.  Instagram.  Blogging (again).  And now twitter.

It took me a looong time to work up the nerve to create an account and then to actually use the account.  I'm still figuring a lot of it out.  For instance, why are people using hash tags in their blogs?  I can't click them to take me anywhere...Should I be doing this?!?!

I have been getting a lot of practice in the art of tweeting through this season of American Idol (if I understood the purpose of a hash tag in a blog I would totally be hash tagging right now).  Twitter has given me the desire to watch American Idol live.  Commercials and all.  I don't like commercials because I don't need any convincing to purchase anything.  I'm already desiring it people.  But now I'm watching one of my favorite shows live.  I thought I would be incredibly bored and pause it halfway through so I could fast forward later.

This, my friends, is just not the case.

This past hour of (hash tag) idol results has flown by as I've been engrossed with twitter and attempting to check my blog comments.  In fact, American Idol, the actual American Idol twitter account has mentioned me in a comment TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW!!!  And I have gained TWO TWITTER FOLLOWERS.  I feel famous people.  See?  This is how much of a twitter baby I actually am.

  Regardless of how inept I feel with all this I am having a lot of fun experimenting with how much I want to tweet and what I want to tweet about.  Just my blog posts?  Only personal things?  Or is it okay for my account to blow up during a favorite tv show, sporting event or a major event in my life?  I don't want to be annoying or anything.  Or rude.  This is a balance I find difficult in all my internet conversations whether it's my blog, facebook or a text (yes I realize texting doesn't involve the internet).

Last night someone replied to one of my tweets making a negative comment about an American Idol contestant that I tweeted about who I thought did very well.  This stranger's tweet wasn't overly aggressive or over the top rude or anything that someone would normally take offense at.  As a twitter baby, however, I am soaking up all I can.

I did feel a bit taken aback by the stranger's negativity.  It would have been very easy for me to hit reply and begin a discussion.  Or an argument.  Who knows.  Is there even a delete button for tweets or for people who mention you in a tweet?  I hope they come up with one.  I love being able to delete unwanted comments on facebook.

Over a year ago now a person I did not know -bloggily or personally - found an old post of mine, she did not like it and she raised hell in my life.  I didn't have a twitter account back then...It makes me nervous to think about how quickly nastiness will spread through twitter shout outs.

I often feel like I'm talking to nobody when I'm putting content out to the masses.  Or I feel like there are so many people that no one will notice my one comment or blog post.

I have no end to this post.  I'm still trying to figure this out in hopes of becoming a twitter toddler soon.

Bottom line:  Twitter is awesome.  But it's also scary.

Me and My Grandmama (not a typo)

I grew up hearing my mom say she doesn't want to be anything like her mother.  So as a girl I thought the same thing.  "I should be nothing like my mother because she is terrible."  I had no basis to think those thoughts.  She was and is a good mom.  I was being a stupid kid.  However I may not have been totally off base in my thinking.

Perhaps I should have been saying, "I should be nothing like my grandmother because she is terrible."

I spent a month with my grandmother when I was 12.  We went on a trip to Germany along with my grandfather, his wife and their daughters (my aunts).  My mom was nervous about me spending so much time with my grandmother alone but I was super excited.  I was a geeky 12 year old with pimples and my aunts were 17 and 19.  They were so cool and knew so much about boys.

The way my grandmother treated me on that trip was terrible.  While things started out fine, her behaviors escalated steadily to the point I was fearful that at any moment anything could happen.  By "anything," well, use your imagination.  Anything.

She yelled at me constantly, particularly when I wanted to do something (like hang out with my aunts) that she didn't quite approve of.  Mind you, at this point in my early adolescence I was a very good kid.  The outward rebelliousness blossomed later.

I vividly remember how loud she snored - I'm a terrible sleeper - and we shared a bed.  I didn't think to use ear plugs but I did have headphones and my cd player.  It was wonderful - until one night I opened my eyes to find my grandmother barely one inch away from my face and yelling as loud as she could.  Something about my loud music.  I'm a spoiled brat.  Blah blah blah.  I was powerless against this woman and for the first time I remember feeling nervous in the presence of another adult/chaperone type person.  I didn't know what else to do in that situation but close my eyes, turn up my music and wait for her to get tired.  This type of thing happened more than once.

Others on our tour could hear her screams, I'm sure.  She wasn't a quiet woman.  In broad daylight, in our hotel room, she screamed in my face.  Multiple times she asked yelled if I was trying to kill her.  I felt guilty for making her feel that way.  At first.  But then I realized that she was acting a little bizarre.  I did talk back to her.  I gave her a piece of my mind as best any 12-year old who knows everything about life could.  This only fueled her.

There were a few nights where my grandmother slept in front of the hotel room door so I wouldn't sneak out.  I can't remember if that was indeed my intention.  Although I do remember wanting to hang out with my aunts and my grandmother didn't like it.  She basically didn't want me hanging out with that family. Period.  So why did she agree to go on a trip with her ex-husband and his family?  Beats me.

I was allowed to call my parents one time.  I had never been separated from my family for more than a few overnights at a time, if that.  And I was allowed one phone call.  Maybe two.  I may have left a voicemail once and I may have actually had a chance to talk to them again when they answered.  Hearing their voices caused my emotions to bubble inside me.  My grandmother, standing over me, hands on her hips, kept me in check.  "How are you doing?" they asked.  "I'm fine."  In my head: I'm not fine.  I'm miserable.  Grandmama is being so mean to me and I'm afraid of her.  Please get me home early.  But instead all that came out was, "I'm fine."  There was nothing else to say.  My grandmother cut the conversation short after just a few minutes anyways.  As I hung up I remember feeling lost and alone and just stuck.  They were my lifeline.  And it didn't work.  I had to endure.

When I finally did get home after what turned out to be horrendous and life-changing trip I found out my best friend had run away from home while I was away.  I had been strong for every moment until hearing that news.  But I didn't have to be strong anymore.  I could cry in the safety of my mom's arms and release the tension I had been holding for so long.

All the disgusting comments my grandmother said about me, to me.  All the evil stares from the across the room.  The knowing that she thought of me as trash.  The yelling in my face.  Curse words.  Obscene accusations.  The control.  Her control over me could finally be lifted.

But was it really?

It's years later and I see someone in my home.  Someone who doesn't quite belong.

I see my grandmother in the mirror.  I hear her hatred shouting through my lips.  I feel the anger seeping from my skin.

I did not see that coming.