My Achy Breaky Heart

I have a billion and one things to do today.  I have a review to write about chocolate.  I know.  I am so lucky to get to taste chocolate and then write what I think about it... and get paid to do it!  But there are no words in my brain about chocolate right now.  I need to write a post to promote our Holiday Craft Expo coming up in two weeks.  And promote it on Facebook and Twitter and every other social media platform that I can think of.  But I have no words for that either.  My heart is full.  Achy breaky full.  So much sadness seeping out of it that I cannot stop the flow.  And my brain is paralyzed.  Having to arrange words into anything that makes sense right now seems so impossible.  But I need to write.  It's the only way to wash away my hurt.

 

Someone will probably think this post is selfish.  That's okay...it is. I am acutely aware that I am not the only one hurting tonight.  My entire family hurts.  My mother hurts as she cares for her husband in what has become the most unimaginable circumstance.  He lays in his bed, dying of cancer.  My step-dad hurts.  He's the one who is dying.  To say I can't fathom what he must be feeling and thinking is an understatement..  A month or two ago he was diagnosed with bone cancer and told he had about 6 months to live.  It was shocking and sad and we were not prepared for the news.  I guess no one is ever prepared for that kind of news. But we thought we had more time to say our goodbyes and get our relationship affairs in order with him.  To say the things we needed to say to a man who welcomed us into his home, even though we were not his children.  To hug this John Wayne-esque, giant of a man who was never big on showing emotion or public displays of affection.  All of the sudden, his health deteriorated and now we are, along with him, staring his death in the face.

I am not ready for this.  I am not ready to lose another person with whom I did not get the chance to develop the kind of deep, meaningful relationship I wanted to have.  I am not ready for my boys to lose the only grandfather they have had who was willing to spend time with them, JUST when he decided to quit being a hermit and start paying attention to them!  They were just starting to get to know him!  They were just starting to hear his hilarious stories and see his face light up when he talked about all of his life adventures.  They were just starting to earn nicknames from him, because he rarely calls anyone by their real name...he has a nickname for everyone. 

My grief over his passing is way more profound than I feel like I can handle.  And I have had to stop and figure out why his passing is affecting me to the point that I want to shut down.  I can't shut down.  People are counting on me to take care of them and help them.  My mom doesn't have the luxury of just shutting down and she truly needs and deserves to shutdown over this.  Why am I not able to be stronger this time around?  It's not like my step-dad and I are super close.  I love him very much, but we haven't had a typical father-daughter relationship (more on that later).  So why do I feel like I am losing more than I can stand to lose?  That sounds bad.  Like I'm saying I shouldn't be AS SAD that he is passing away because he isn't my real dad and we weren't as close as we could have been.  That's not what I mean by saying I shouldn't be so very, very depressed about this. I'm saying that the level of sadness and grief I feel is debilitating and it feels like there is more to it than my step dad's untimely and pending death.

I have to believe that this is less about his rapidly approaching crossover to heaven, which is truly a blessing given the extreme amount of pain he is enduring, and more about my feeling that one more time I am being left alone to deal with life.  I feel like my whole life has revolved around people leaving me.  I won't go into details. But it's happened a lot. And the hurt has caused has started to become unbearable.  I thought my real dad dying tragically and unexpectedly was pretty painful to sort through.  But now I am losing my other dad - the only one I have left and have struggled to develop a relationship with - and it almost feels worse than the first loss.  

Clearly I need to get over my own abandonment issues and focus on the good times that I had with my step-father.  I have some good memories of him.  He is a good man who had issues of his own due to his upbringing.  His walls were so high.  It took him until just recently to finally decide to let them down and start to let us in a little more and now he's leaving us. It doesn't feel fair.  I know...we all have our issues.  I just wish my family's issues would have been less detrimental to our having a rich and full "normal" life. The whole thing just really, really sucks and I'm not ready to say goodbye to one more person who means something to me. Oh my gosh, I can't tell you how NOT ready for this I am. 

And yes...I feel like a self-absorbed, whiny ass, drama queen for posting this.  Because my dad's cancer and death should not be all about me.  But the truth is, it is about me.  And about him.  And about my mom and my sister and my aunt and my sons and whoever else is affected by his disease.  Every single one of our lives is changing because my step-dad has cancer and is dying. And it hurts.  So I sit and write to process and heal and then I have to choose whether or not to share what I feel with everyone else or hide it away somewhere.  Who will I hurt by posting this?  I don't know, but I'm pretty sure there will be someone. Who will feel like I am seeking out attention?  I don't know that either, but I know sometimes I have a problem with that.  Who will just read the post with an open heart and identify with it and walk away with a greater desire to spend more time with their kids and grand kids so they don't have to feel like they missed out on one of life's greatest joys?  I hope many.  

Will sharing this do any good?  I don't know.  I just know it helps me.  And I choose to think I am not the only one in the world who has these kinds of thoughts and struggles.  So I guess I hope that when I make my personal issues public, it helps someone, somewhere, deal with a difficult situation because they know they are not alone.  So for now, this post will go live.  Because it's what I need to do to cope and to find some peace in my out of control life.      

A Life Well Lived and Some Other Stuff about Life and Death.

This is a post about death and dying and life and living.  I know.  I'm sorry.  It's where I'm at right now.  It's what is happening in my world.  So I am using my blog to process.  Because I can't afford therapy.  I will not be offended if you stop reading right now.  Maybe you don't feel like crying.  But if you do need a good cry, this might be a good post to read.  It's making me cry.  But I tend to do that a lot these days.  So now that you have been warned, stick around or don't.  Either way, it's all good.

I think I mentioned in a previous post how ironic I think it is that I am dealing with end of life issues at the very same time that I am trying to create a rebirth for myself and my family.  As I contemplate the marks left on communities by those who are leaving us, I am still struggling to find my place in the world. As I feel sadness for the loss of people close to me, I feel joy and gratitude for those who have been sent for me to raise and nurture.  One day finds me holding a dying man's hand, 

 

while the next finds me helping very much alive and overly-excited boys make a lemonade stand to earn money. 

The emotional toll this juxtaposition has taken on me is exhausting, mentally and physically.  My brain keeps trying to process deep life and death concepts that make me think about my own mortality and my own happiness (or lack of) and other complicated stuff that causes me pain to think about.  Not liking it at all.  At. All.  I keep trying to shut it all out by just focusing on living in the moment and enjoying each moment for what it is.  Except some moments are kind of painful.  Like watching someone you love pass away. 

For a few weeks now I have been watching my step-grandfather deteriorate and face the end of his life. Because he is 100% coherent and aware, it has been tough on him to deal with a body that refuses to give up the fight to live, even while it is shutting down and cannot support him any longer.  It has been tough on his family too, to watch him struggle to die with some kind of peace and dignity.  We were hoping it would be an easier passing for him.  It would have been nice for him to go to sleep one night and not wake up.  The phone call I got tonight indicated the further breakdown of his bodily systems and I was told that he may not make it through the night. Even now though, during these last hours, he is experiencing much discomfort and frustration.  I hate that this is how he has to experience death.  

I have been blessed over the last month to spend some days sitting with him as he winds up his time here on earth.  He is an amazing man.  He has some incredible stories about growing up in Oklahoma during the Dust Bowl years, about working for the Civilian Conservation Corp during the Depression and about surviving D-Day on Omaha beach during World War II.  He lived through some of the worst times this country has seen.  

Despite struggling to endure and survive some really tough and sad situations, my grandfather never dwells on the negative aspects of his experiences.  If he mentions the pain or negativity at all, it's kind of in passing and then he quickly moves on to the valuable lessons he learned from what he went through. He is seriously one of the most positive, upbeat people I have ever known.  The last few weeks of visits haven't brought much conversation from him.  It's painful for him to talk because he can't breathe well.  But I talk to his nurses and others who stop by to see him.  In spite of his weakened state, he offers them a smile or a quick hello.  They offer hugs in return.  Even the cook came out of the kitchen to see if her "favorite guy" wanted anything special for dinner.  There is never an unkind or impatient word about him from anyone in the facility, or for that matter, in his life. They talk about his humor, his enthusiastic attitude, his positive outlook and his ability to remember names.  He leaves a lasting impression of all that is good about humanity on everyone he meets.  

 

When he married my grandmother after she left her horribly abusive first  husband, he changed not only her life, but ours as well.  He opened his heart and his home to her and her family without hesitation.  It was his idea to invite my grandmother's mother to live with them instead of living by herself halfway across the country as she started to suffer from the effects of a stroke.  And even though he loves Idaho, he was happy to relocate every winter to Phoenix after they retired so my grandmother could be closer to us.  Her life was so much better because he understood the give and take required to have a happy marriage and he understood that her family (no matter how messed up he thought we might be) was part of the package.  He never judged us.  He accepted us and did his best to love us. I am going to miss him an awful lot when he's gone.  Strength of character, a positive outlook, a kind heart and resilience will be his legacies.  I hope I have learned enough from him to emulate him even just a little as I continue my own earthly journey. 

There's so much more I want to say about Grandpa Russ, but I don't have the words tonight.  I just know that I'm a better person for having known him.  And I know when he is reunited with my grandmother in Heaven, he will have nothing but great things to say about his life here on earth.  Even the dying part.  I know he will find a lesson in all that suffering.  I hope I can say the same thing about my struggles some day.  

Until then, I will say thank you to a great man who served his family, his country and his God well.  

Old School Christmas Shows and the Flu - It's a Family Tradition

I don't know why I can't seem to get back into a blogging rhythm.  This blog has been such an important part of my life for the last 5 years and it pains me that I have lost touch with what inspired me to start blogging/writing in the first place.  But I don't want to analyze tonight.  I just felt like I needed to give I Am Boymom some post love, so my blog knows I haven't forgotten or abandoned it.  

So...in reference to the title...Christmas in our house is probably not like Christmas in most houses.  Some of that has to do with my upbringing.  We lived with lots of different people and got bounced around a lot.  Consequently, we didn't really get to establish "family traditions" in the normal "Christmas-y" sense.  My husband's family tries with this big family party at his brother's huge house.  It's a tough crowd.  Let's just say they have their own special brand of dysfunction.  Not judging!  Soooo not judging.  Just stating the facts as I see them.  

Back to the point...So even at this late date, as my kids are becoming teenagers, I am still trying to establish some fun and memorable holiday traditions.  I suck at it.  I never know what they will enjoy and I think I try so hard to make things work that I end up being stressed, which makes everyone else in the house stressed and before you know it, everybody's frustrated and no one is having fun and I feel like a failure.  Again. 

Well, tonight it kind of hit me that we do have a few traditions of our own.  They may not be GREAT and WONDERFUL traditions, but by gosh, they are ours and the fact that we have anything at all that we repeat each Christmas is progress.  And maybe my epic FAIL at trying something new tonight is making me lie to myself about whether what we do is indeed a tradition, but at this point, I'll take what I can get. 

First tradition we have is TV.  Not a great tradition, I know.  But at Christmastime it works for us.  We try to catch every Christmas movie or special on TV, starting on Thanksgiving and going through Christmas day.  What we don't catch on TV, we rent.  It was fun when we grew up to watch Rudolph and Frosty and Charlie Brown and it's even more fun to watch them now with my boys, who laugh hysterically at the thought that we found these shows enjoyable when we were kids.  "The graphics suck!"  "Why do they make the adults talk like wierd aliens?"  We try to explain that we didn't have Computer Generated Animation then!  Puppets and stuff were state of the art, dudes!  What I love though, is that no matter how much they yammer on about how "lame" some of our holiday shows were, they always sit down and watch them with us.  We bond over Old School Christmas TV shows. 

Another tradition we have is that we always put together a few stockings full of food and water, soap, razors, snacks, shampoo...little things like that.  Then we find someone in need, maybe someone living on the streets or in a shelter, and the boys offer the stockings.  We've had some amazing conversations after giving our stockings out about charity and how life circumstances can turn on anyone and land them in a position to be in need of help.  The boys understand how important it is not to judge people based on immediate circumstances or appearances. They are compassionate young men who have empathy for others and they look forward to giving their stockings to people every year.  I'm glad they have the chance to serve and share with others who are struggling even more than we are.  It's good to see the world from another perspective once in awhile.  I hope this tradition is something they will carry on when they leave our home.

The last tradition we have is not one we choose, but one that seems to get thrust upon us almost every year.  It's a really crappy tradition, literally and figuratively, but the one thing it does is force us to slow down a bit and regroup during the hectic season.  For whatever reason, someone always ends up sick with flu or a horrible cold during Christmas!  It makes me crazy!  One year my husband woke up on Christmas Day unable to move his head or neck and in excruciating pain after he stretched!  He stretched, people!  Didn't know you couldn't do that on Christmas morn without repercussions! 

Being sick makes whoever is sick cranky.  Christmas isn't a time for crankiness!  We are supposed to be happy and focused on family and giving and the spirit of the holidays!  Instead, someone is sneezing and hacking or pooping and puking and downing Nyquil or Thera-flu by the gallon trying to be functional for all the events. No one can enjoy the dysfunctional family Christmas party when they feel like crap!  It's hard enough to enjoy it when we are well!  But like I said, the one thing it does is force us to slow down and prioritize.  Do we really need to attend 8,000 Christmas events?  Do we really need 100 homemade, hand decorated sugar cookies or can we be happy with refrigerated, store bought cookie dough and sprinkles this year?  It compels us to take better care of each other in a season where we talk of Christ and try to focus on the "reason for the season."  It brings us closer to one another as we serve and nurture each other. So while we would not necessarily choose the "Christmas illness" tradition?  We have learned to live with it and it has kind of just become part of the Holiday tapestry we are trying to weave.  Weird, I know.  But it's something, and as far as traditions go, isn't something better than nothing?

So that is my recap of our family traditions.  Not great, but we have forward motion.  And as I'm writing this, I remember that I had a whole other, much shorter post planned.  Pictures showing the results of my attempt at Christmas Craft night.  And when you see it, you will know why I started this post by trying to convince myself that we are making "tradition" progress and why I don't always have the gumption to push forward with finding new ones:

My oldest, who deals with fine motor skill issues and absolutely hates crafts, put this bad boy together with some pipe cleaners and a foam ball.  I know.  A cat with tape on its paws could do something nicer.  I had a picture for him to look at, but after about 10 minutes he was bored and thoroughly frustrated.  This from a kid who will spend hours precisely placing army guys in formations for battles.

 

This is one of those scratchy things that starts out all black and then you scratch designs in the back to reveal the colors.  My youngest started a design then decided it was taking too long and scratched off the entire black cover and then walked away from the little pile of black shavings that were all over his work space, declaring he was done and "by done, I mean I'm going to bed.  I don't feel good again."  In his defense, he has been home sick with some kind of stomach issue for 3 days (maybe the illness portion of the holiday came early this year and we can relax and enjoy the next few weeks).

This would have been a really cool ornament cover had I actually been able to sit down and do some beading, but the sick kid and the bored kid finished so fast that I had to give it up and mediate the fussiness that ensued.  I called it a Christmas Craft Night FAIL at 8:30 and everyone went to bed.  

Maybe we'll try Craft Night again next year.  Or maybe not.  Maybe we'll just watch National Lampoon's Christmas vacation, drink some cocoa and call it good.  And we'll have "the hap hap happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny freak-ing Kay!"  Clark Griswold understands my pain.

Late Merry Christmas Post!

It seems like this entire year has found me constantly running behind, in almost every aspect of my life.  It has been a chaotic, unpredictable, rough and tumble year for Boymom and my family!  So it seems fitting that I should end the year like I started, frantically trying to pull together a Holiday blog post before the year ends and I miss the opportunity to thank my friends, family and my wonderful readers for sticking with me and coming back here from time to time to read my...stuff.

So...how was your Christmas?  Ours, although hectic, ended up being a pretty good Christmas.  This year we really tried to focus more on the spiritual aspects of the holiday and less on the gift giving (lack of money was how that idea started, we decided to run with it!).  The gifts we did give were a lot more practical than in years past and thanks to the generosity of friends, family and a Secret Santa, the boys got more than they (or we) expected.  By the end of Christmas Day, I was feeling pretty grateful and extremely blessed.

I think this year, more so than any in the recent past, I truly felt the Spirit of Christmas in my own heart.  Maybe because I quit focusing on what we didn't have and what wasn't working and started focusing on what I could give back.  It was a joy and a pleasure to watch my boys get excited about our own Secret Santa project, which didn't amount to a whole lot of money, but definitely showed my boys that there are people in the world who are so much worse off than we are.  Little Man almost broke into tears when he realized that there are people who literally have nothing other than the clothes on their backs.  Listening to him pray that night for the well-being of a stranger we met who was living under a tree in a park is a Christmas experience his dad and I will cherish the rest of our lives.

I'm glad we took the time to help my boys understand that it's not about the gifts.  It's about being a good human being during a season when we celebrate the birth of one of the greatest beings ever to walk the earth.

(Ignore the tighty whities and focus on the Nativity, please.  The nativity set, people!!!

Merry Christmas, my dear bloggy friends.  Thank you for your wonderful examples, your kind and caring words, your generosity of spirit and good will.  You have made a difference in this Boymom's life.

The Stress of Transistions

Transitioning is always stressful.  We have lots of decisions to make in our house, but no information to make them with.  So here we sit, in limbo, waiting to know if we have the job or not before committing to Plan B, which is not all that strong at the moment either.   I've had a lot of time to stress over not being able to control the situation, which has led to me getting very sick this week.  Lots of stress = weakened immune system = me getting hit with a chest cold and flu-like symptoms that knocked me on my butt.  Lots of crying and general malaise. 

Today, I forced myself to get up and get the kids to church because Little Man had to read the monthly scripture today in Primary.  It required putting forth effort that I really didn't want to put forth when I feel like hammered poo.  But I did it for my kid, because that's what moms do, right?  My son was magnificent, he read his very long scripture perfectly and he even understood what it meant.  Was it worth the effort?  Of course.  And in return for my willingness to sacrifice my comfort for my son's church participation, I was blessed too. 

No, my lungs did not magically open up and expel the foul virus that is making me ill, nor did a bag of money or a job offer drop from the sky.  But my eyes did manage to open up and take notice of the beautiful cornflower blue sky laced with wispy white clouds.  And my poor, dried out skin took delight in the wonderfully cool breeze that brushed over my arms and gently swept over my face as it hurried toward the trees to tickle their branches and leaves.  My nose breathed it in deeply and despite a few hacks and coughs, the crisp, clean air filled my lungs and I felt renewed and refreshed for a few moments.  My mind instantly recognized the signs of fall and my soul truly jumped for joy at the realization that the brutal heat of summer is finally gone.  We have officially survived another hellish Arizona summer!  And just like that, I had one less thing to stress about.  Deep breath (cough, hack, cough) and sigh.  My shoulders just relaxed a little. 

As I write this, I am sitting by the open window, not hearing the constant drone of the air conditioning unit. Instead, I hear my boys laugh, play, giggle and yell while they take in all the neighborhood has to offer a couple of active boys who have been cooped up for 3 months by the intense summer sun.  The cooler weather has lifted their spirits too.  They frolic and kick like spirited colts running through fields of perfect, green alfalfa, but instead of whinnies and neighs, I hear laser and machine gun sound effects and instead of alfalfa, the frolicking takes place in the dirt fort next to our house.  No matter...as long as they are happy.  I love that I can hear them so clearly - their plots, their dreams, their gross boy humor.  I remember having a few great play days like this when I was kid.  You know them...those days when everything and everyone from the neighborhood comes together in perfect harmony to create the ultimate perfect day; great weather, good friends, awesome snacks, no arguing, no hurt feelings, no bike wrecks...just pure, unadulterated fun that you never want to end.  Suddenly I am aware that my chest feels a little less tight and I realize that I have pretty good, generally happy, well-adjusted kids.  And with that realization comes one more release...Now I have two less thing to stress about.  Is there nothing more healing to a sick mom's heart and mind than the laughter of her happy kids? 

So I thought I'd take a minute to make sure I got this day down in writing.  The day that I remembered what fall feels like in the desert.  The day I remembered a few good days from my childood.  The day I remembered to enjoy my kids.  The day I remembered that hard times (or excessive heat) don't last forever.  The day that I was reminded that there are so many good things in the world to think about and enjoy as we struggle through our trials and tribulations.   It's been a good day to just sit and remember.

Transitions - Part 1

Along with other life transitions, I am working on a new look for the blog.  It might get kind of crazy around here 'til I figure out which direction I want to take it, so try to hang on while I get it figured out! 

As far as life outside of my blog?

It seems like my life has been in transition for a long, long time now.  I keep trying to evolve to fit my current set of circumstances, but none of the changes I make seem to take hold on a permanent basis.  As I write this, I realize that just being human makes life transitory by nature.  We are always learning and growing and adapting.  But right now?  I'd like to just chill until I can see a clear path. 

This really all relates to stability.  Emotional stability, financial stability, domestic stability...it seems like when I get one of those elements lined out, another one spins out of control.  Some of my instability is due to choices I have made in my life, and some of it has had to do with circumstances and choices that others made on my behalf.  I get that I can't go back and change that.  Finally, I get that.  At this moment I want to create a more stable life going forward, not just for me, but for my kids!  Stability is all I want right now.

So...here I sit, on the precipice of several HUGE life choices.  All of them will directly affect my life and the lives of my children, especially when it comes to our ability to feel safe and comfortable.  For me, it's really hard when financial instability becomes the driving force behind our decision making process because then the process feels frenzied and chaotic and desperate.  It's hard to stay calm when you're backed up against the wall.  Having said that, had we had a Plan B on file in the first place, we probably would have made better choices at the beginning of this trial and could have avoided some of the last minute misery and debate we are dealing with now.  Hindsight, right? 

Now we are facing the inevitable...Do we move to another state and try to start over in a new environment or do we stay put and try to slug it out in a place where both of us have spent what seems like an eternity trying to carve out a niche for ourselves?  My vote?  Stay here.  Which is weird, because we've always talked about the day we can finally move out of Arizona!  But now that I face that possibility, I'm not ready to go.  I'm still trying to decide if my lack of enthusiasm has more to do with the location my husband is leaning toward or having to pack the house up all over again.  Either way, I'm not ready to deal with this change.  I know the demons I face here!  I know the economy (or lack therof), the streets, the politics, the weather, the people...all of the things which I gripe about on a daily basis!   Isn't it ironic how familiarity can sometimes ease the lack of stability of our lives, but that same familiarity also leads us to feel contempt and boredom for our same old surroundings?  We are weird, complex creatures sometimes, that is certain.

All of this comes down to what?  Me being too afraid and tired to try something new.  Before I had kids I probably would have jumped at the chance to see another part of the country.  Now I just want to get where we need to be and stay there.  I want to put down roots and become part of the community and live my life there and know that at last, I am home and I never have to leave.  If I thought for one second that the place my husband wants to move was that place?  I'd be all over it.  But I don't feel that way about his choice.  In fact I work hard everyday to try to imagine life there and I can't. 

So why is it even a consideration?  If I'm not gonna be happy there, why would we even consider it?  Because Big Man has a brother there whom he adores and who brings out all the good and wonderful qualities in the man I married.  Their love for each other is deep and strong and without judgement.  My husband doesn't have kind of relationship with most of his other siblings.  Big Man feels like maybe with his brother's help and support, he can get back on his feet and create a new career path.   More importantly, he feels like he will finally be away from the many people he has grown up with here who seem to always see him as a failure.  His road here has been a tough one, not filled with very many positive experiences.  

So maybe a change is warranted.  Sometimes all one needs to shake old habits and demons is a change of scenery.  Some place to start over again, with a new outlook and new perspective.  Some place where you get to be who you really are, where no one has preconcieved ideas about you based on who you used to be. 

I just wish that place wasn't Florida. 

Movie Review: "Life As We Know It"

Lucky me, I actually got to go on a date with my husband last night, thanks to Mom Central!  We were invited to see a pre-screening of Life As We Know It starring Kathryn Heigl and Josh Duhamel.  I had seen a few commercials for the movie and it looked really entertaining, but you never know until you actually get there if the movie lives up to the hype. 

Well, I'm here to tell you, the movie is really, really funny and touching at the same time.  The basic premise of the movie is this:

"After a disastrous first date, the only thing Holly, an up and coming caterer, and Eric, a network sports director, have in common is their dislike for each other and their love for their goddaughter Sophie. But when they suddenly become all Sophie has in the world, Holly and Eric are forced to put their differences aside and juggle career ambitions and competing social calendars to find some common ground while living under one roof."

First of all, I had to laugh at the whole Holly/Eric relationship, because we all have single friends like those two characters...the ones who irritate each other so badly, but would really be a great couple!?  The casting for those two parts was so dead on! Kathryn Heigl and Josh Duhamel made such a cute couple and they played off each other really well!! 

So Holly (Kathryn Heigl) and Eric (Josh Duhamel) get thrown into the whole parenting thing with no warning and have to figure out how to deal with each other and a child, as well as the loss of their best friends.  As life issues go, definitely not how I would want to start my child-rearing gig.  But as a parent, there was so much about this movie that I could relate to.  The thought of a child losing her parents immediately triggered my nurturing side and I was totally moved to tears watching that whole issue unfold.  Then as the main characters took on the parenting roles, I remembered how I felt so overwhelmed when I had my first child, even with 9 months to get used to the idea!  So it was really easy to be sympathetic and even laugh when these two single people, who had parenthood thrust upon them, struggled with basics like changing diapers (Josh's character gagging and running out of the room) and trying to calm an inconsolable baby at 2 a.m. Kathryn and Josh made the struggle seem believable, not campy or trite. 

Then...there was the whole "neighborhood support" issue, which had me in stitches, because again...I could relate to the whole dynamic!   The lady who brings casseroles, the endless unsolicited parenting tips, the married couple with 9 kids who always looks tired and wrung out...it's true to life and it made me reflect on my own neighbors with both affection and irritation.  There were seriously some very funny scenes involving the neighbors.  Gotta love 'em!

I won't give anymore of the movie away, but I will say, I was a little concerned at first that there wouldn't be enough meat to carry the plot and that it would just be a bunch of poopy diaper and spit-up jokes, both of which were part of the script, but there was a lot more going on in the story. 

Life As We Know It really is a light-hearted, somewhat realistic snapshot of what people face everyday as they decide to merge lives and raise a child.  Careers, income, even which TV shows to watch...everything changes when you bring a baby into the picture!  It was refreshing to watch Kathryn Heigl and Josh Duhamel play out everyday situations that most of us face with great comedic timing and with the emotion that we all feel when it comes to choosing a partner and raising a family.  And yes, I get that this is a movie and movies generally tend to have happy endings, but sometimes life has happy endings too.  This movie gave me some perspective and helped me laugh at my parenting challenges and made me want to try harder for my own happy ending. 

Life As We Know It opens October 8th.  Go see it!  It's totally worth the admission price!

**Disclosure: “I attended a complimentary screening of this movie to facilitate my review and received a gift card from Mom Central as a thank you for my time.”**

This Post is For My Friend at Work

You ask me sometimes about marriage and kids.  About what it's like to be tied down.  You have not found your soulmate and you wonder if you ever will.  That's what you tell me.  I've watched you for a few short weeks as you choose your dates and search for "the one."  I don't always get your choices, but I get the need to feel wanted and needed.  I know that you are a real catch and one day you will make someone very happy. 

You tell me you aren't a kid person.  One day I watched you get really annoyed at some kid whose mom was letting him run amuck in a restaurant and you started to get loud about it.  I kind of told you to calm down, but realized that you had a point.  The kid was out of control and the mom was really lackadaisical about her kid ruining the atmosphere for the other diners.  So I see that maybe you really aren't comfortable around kids.  And I understand why you might think all kids are like that little dude.  But they aren't.  There are some good kids around.  Kids like the kind of kid I think you were when you were little.  I hope one day you get to experience the love of a really good kid.  It changes your heart.  It changes your life.  Ask your dad how it feels.    

You also mentioned that it seems like I am in prison sometimes because I have all these family obligations that keep me from really letting loose and being who I am.  You are right...I have felt like that sometimes.  I have felt like I was trapped and struggling to live a life that makes me happy.  But the truth is, my kind friend, if I have ever felt trapped or imprisoned by my life as a wife and a mom, it has nothing to do with my kids or my marriage.  It has everything to do with who I am and the choices I have made.  And more importantly, the reasoning and logic I used when I made those choices.  

Let me clarify.  Yes...when I was single, I could come and go when I pleased and I could spend my money the way I wanted to and I NEVER had to worry about having someone attached to my hip 24 hours a day (except for an occasional clingy friend).  My life was my own, my choices were my own and my mistakes were my own.  Rarely did I have to worry about others, unless I chose to do so.  Sometimes I do miss that freedom of not having to worry about anyone but myself. 

But I can honestly say that I never miss that feeling so much that I would give up the experience of being a mom and a wife to have that freedom again, no matter how much the choice to have a family costs me.  Maybe "cost" is the wrong word.  It's not so much a matter of how much the choice cost me, it's more a matter of how much of myself I chose to give up in trying to make a perfect family and live a perfect life.

We have these ideas of what relationships should look and feel like and so we go into life situations with expectations and pictures in our heads about what a perfect marriage and family unit should be.  And my choice was to set really high, pretty unrealistic expectations for what married life would be like for me. So when life happens and it's really hard?  Yeah...I have felt trapped.  Why?  Because I loved my husband so much when I married him, I never foresaw a time when we would not be as close as conjoined twins.  We would never tire of each other and we would have the best relationship EVAH because he was perfect and I was perfect and together we would be double perfect!  Whoo-hoo!  Even though I knew deep down we were far from perfect. I know...it was naive.  All I knew is that I didn't want to have the kind of relationships I had seen growing up, so I went into marriage hoping and praying for the best and thinking that if you love someone enough, the rest just kind of comes together.  I had no clue that I would have to have an advanced degree in human nature and psychology to navigate my new life with a man and kids!  I know.  I KNOW!!  Naive.  Too bad Dr. Phil wasn't around then to help me out. 

So being the optimist that I was at the time, I chose to set up my relationship with my husband on the highest freaking mountain peak I could find.  "Let's shoot for the stars, Honey!"  Then, I expected him to want to climb the mountain, and to be able to reach the peak with me where we would experience the pinnacle of "perfect married life."  Angels would sing and the clouds would part and the finger of God would reach out to bless our union with love and harmony and we'd buy everyone a Coke and there would be singing and laughter throughout the world!   

Except I never bothered to stop and ask him if he knows how to climb mountains.  I just assumed he knew how because he's smart and funny and he has goals and aspirations, so...cool!  Seemed like a good assumption.  Let's go, Dude!  Up the mountain!  Then one day it occurs to me he's not making much vertical progress and he's miserable and I'm getting angry because I'm tired of dragging him up the hill and when I finally take the time to ask what his problem is, he says he hates climbing mountains!   WHAT!?!  How did I not know he hates mountain climbing?!  In all our years of dating, how did this question not come up?  Not slightly dislikes it...HATES IT!  So now I'm married to a guy who is not a mountain climber.  He is something else.  Maybe he's a swimmer or a flyer or a runner.  Whatever he is, he's not a mountain climber.  So I end up being pissed that he sucks at climbing mountains.  Can I be mad at him for that?  Well, I can be, and sometimes I am mad at him for it, but should I be mad?  Probably not.  I made the choice to marry him and I made the assumption that he would and could climb mountains.  And I geared my whole life around making sure we got up the mountain together, at the same time, the same way.  I became his Sherpa.  I thought that's what I was supposed to do.  So I did it. I never gave myself the option of taking another path.   I also never considered that he might have his own life path to take.  I never thought about letting him fly to the top of the mountain while I climbed and then meeting him at the top, where we would both be happy with the separate paths that we took and then the clouds and the music and God's finger and the Coke....you get the idea.  But the key point here is this...I CHOSE to do all of this.  I chose to set it up this way, I chose to assume the role I did, I chose the path.  I chose. 

Then my kids came along.  And when they came, my heart turned to jello and everything in my entire body screamed out with joy and fear and the most fiery hot intense love that I have ever felt in my life.  And in my zeal to give them the kind of childhood I wanted, I threw my entire being into making sure they get a fair shot at being normal and functional as they grow and face life in an adult world.  I want them to have choices that I never had.  So I sacrifice. 

I sacrificed my business and my career.  I sacrificed my body.  I sacrificed my wardrobe, my health, my happiness.  I put everything on hold for my kids and my husband.  I thought it was the right thing to do and at first I was really, really happy with my choice to walk away from everything that took my focus and attention away from my boys' well-being.  Because remember...my mission is to give them something different than I had - a solid home life where they feel wanted and loved and safe, no matter what is going on in the world around them.  It all sounds so noble, right?  I should have been so happy making these sacrifices, knowing they would give my kids the kind of life I didn't have.  Everything I did was for my kids, and sometimes my husband. I never did anything for myself.

But I wasn't happy.  I was mad that no one appreciated my efforts.  And my being a martyr was not noble.  All I was doing was teaching my boys to feel guilty for having a good life that I was giving them!  How whacked is that?!  I was constantly angry that I was not finding any joy in my role as a wife and a mom and I was blaming everyone but me.    

 

Then one day the realization hit me:  I asked for this.  I told God what I wanted and he gave it to me.  I wanted a husband, I wanted children and I got what I wanted.  I asked to be a stay at home mom and I got what I wanted.  These were my choices.  I can tell you they were and still are the right choices.  I know that with every fiber of my being.  But somehow my choices left me feeling trapped and unhappy and wanting to escape my reality to just let loose and be who I really am inside. 

 

The truth is I chose to give up that "fun, crazy, impulsive, creative" part of myself.  No one asked me to give it up, I just assumed that part of my self would be counterproductive to raising a family.  And really, I don't want my boys to have to go through some of what I went through when I was crazy and impulsive, because frankly, it was kind of scary to figure out how to navigate some of those situations with no one to turn to for advice and counsel and help.  So in my mind that meant I have to be a different person now so my kids have a good role model.  Because I'm setting the example for them, right? 

So somewhere during my life journey, my values changed.  Actually, they didn't change, I just finally developed a core set of values by which I want to live my life.  Maybe I was afraid that letting loose would lead me back to being the person I was a long, long time ago.  That person struggled with being able to stay safe around toxic people and situations because I didn't always have guiding principles by which to make good decisions.  While I had some fun times, I had no self-worth or no sense of how to protect myself.  I don't ever want to go back to that place of feeling like I had no value or reason to exist other than to be abused or neglected by the people who claimed to care about me.  And I never want my kids to feel like that.  Like they cannot protect themselves or that they don't have the skillset to deal with life's trials. 

 

So I made choices.  I decided that I wanted something different. Obviously the choices I made were based on some flawed logic and ideas.  Nevertheless, they were MY choices.  Did my choices create some kind of prison?  Yeah...you were right about that.  They did.  But one man's prison is another man's safety.  Obviously I didn't feel safe being myself.  Assuming the title of wife and mom gave me something to hide behind, for awhile anyway.  Your questions about marriage and kids and happiness kind of brought things full circle for me.  Your calling me out made me realize that for the last 2 years, through this blog and my writing and getting involved in various other endeavors, including my new job, I have been coming out of hiding.  It's been quite a process.  Sometimes slow, sometimes painful, sometimes scary, but really very exciting and fun, all at the same time.  So what does this all mean? 

 

Does this new realization mean I walk away from my family so I can feel free?  That's one choice people make.  Is it my choice?  Absolutely not!  It means I change the way in which I live my life with them.  Because it is my life, right?  It means that I give them the best of who I really am, because they deserve that effort from me and because I truly want to give it to them, not because I feel obligated to give it to them.  It means I give MYSELF the best of who I really am, because I deserve that.   It means I let the crazy, fun, spontaneous, creative parts of me come out once in awhile because my family needs to be with "Fun Geri" too sometimes!  It means I quit using my husband and kids as an excuse for not living my own life.  It means, my friend, that I would not be the person I am today had I not gotten married and had kids.  So while the experience may have felt like a burden at times over the last ten years, the truth is I would have never known these things about myself had I not made the choices I have made.  Getting to this realization has kind of sucked.  It's been painful and scary.  But now that I'm here...I feel free to be a different, better version of me.  Like it's okay now.  Somehow I have permission that I wouldn't give myself before.  And I can thank a dear new friend for caring enough to ask some really tough questions and push me to finally address the issue at the level it needed to be addressed.

 

Thank You.  I owe you.  Big time.  And I love yer guts for taking the time to really get to know me. I hope someday I can return the favor. 

Gratitude Post Part 2

Yep...there's more.  Another lengthy gratitude post.  More stuff for which I am grateful.  Can you stand this? Too gushy? I know, but like I said - my heart has been full lately.

So who'm I gonna thank today? 

My husband has really struggled with my going back to work, for a few reasons. First, he would rather be the one bringing in the majority of the income. Well, I would rather that be the case too, but until it happens, we have to work with what's been made available and that's the job I have right now. Which means he gets to be at home with the kids alot. It has been an adjustment for everyone and it has not been an easy adjustment for any of us. But I think we are getting better at dealing with the change and I want to thank Big Man for stepping up where he can. The house doesn't always get cleaned, but the kids are spending some real quality time with their father. Big Man is a great dad and I am so thankful that he takes the time to teach his boys valuable life lessons, like how to be a good consumer and how to be a discerning person when it comes to the friends they choose to hang out with. He prays with them and loves them and plays with them and sometimes he even feeds them vegetables with their dinner. I love him for his efforts and his desire to get me back home with them as quickly as he can.  Now if I can just figure out how to get him to quit splattering bacon grease all over the kitchen we'll really be in business!

My sweet, sweet boys deserve all the love and thanks that I can shower upon them.  They have really stepped up and tried to handle our new set of circumstances like little men.  They have had to stay with other people and get up at 2 a.m. to come home and go back to bed when we couldn't find a sitter who could help us out.  They have had to get their own breakfast on weekends when I am trying really hard to get a little sleep.  They have had to take on more responsibilities at home and I know they get stressed about it sometimes, but they are trying hard to roll with the punches. 

Little Man really misses his mom and has gone out of his way to make sure he gives me lots of hugs and kisses when he finally does see me.  Oh...if he only knew that some days those hugs are the only reason I can get through the day.  Knowing that there is a kid at home who thinks I am the greatest thing since sliced bread makes me wonder what the hell is wrong with him sometimes!?  I mean, seriously!  Do you not see what a trainwreck your mom can be, kid?   All joking aside, his love gives me a reason to try harder.  His hugs are like warm caramel to my vanilla ice cream soul.  I simply melt when he puts his arms around my neck and snuggles into my lap and tells me how much he has missed me.  At that moment, I would walk barefoot across frozen tundras and burning desert sands to ensure he has everything he needs to be a happy human being.  Knowing he still needs me is the best kind of feeling.  EVAH.  I am so grateful for his sensitive, kind nature.

And Big Brother?  He is doing exactly what he thinks he was put here on this earth to do: he's taking care of his family.  He likes having a kingdom to preside over and while I am gone, he presides.  Boy, does he preside!  He ensures that Little Man does his chores and homework (funny how someone else's homework is important, but not your own?).  Big Brother makes sure that the cat is fed, that the boys get to Scouts and he ensures that everyone is safe and sound at night by locking doors and turning out lights. Big Man says Big Brother prays for my safe return home from work every night and asks for us to be blessed so I can get back home and work here instead of for someone else.  He's the caretaker when I'm away.  He's getting kind of big for hugs and kisses he says, but a quick peck on my cheek and a squeeze from him helps me know that he's okay and that he can handle the changes that are taking place in our lives.  And sometimes I can move fast enough to get my arms around him for just a minute and kiss his forehead, which is now only a few inches lower than mine.  He wants so badly to be a man and I want him to be a boy a while longer.  I need him to stay young for a few more years so I can keep him close.  He's such a good boy and I am so grateful that he feels a sense of responsibility for us.

Can you handle one more gratitude shout-out?  I'm seeing that glazed look again, so I'll make it quick, but ya'll know I write like I talk, right?  And ya'll know how much I talk...right?  Okay.  Then quit givin' me a hard time about my long posts and start readin' faster so you can get through this ramble sometime before the day ends!  

Can I just say that my new co-workers rock out loud?!?!  Well...SOME of my new co-workers.  'Cause truthfully?  If I never see a few of them again I would be a happy, happy woman.  There are hundreds of people in this building where I work.  I usually get along with peole fairly well, but in my department of approximately 80 folks, there are a few who seriously rub EVERYONE the wrong way.  Luckily, I don't have to deal with those folks I don't like much, because I mostly stay with my little team of 11 peeps in Box Creation, plus a few others who kind of got adopted into the group.  We're a weird little group.  We're kind of our own island.  We bonded way too quickly and we have some drama once in awhile, but in the end, most of us all really, truly care about each other.  It's kind of like a little dysfunctional family, but way less dysfunctional than one would think if they were looking in from the outside.  I think it's because we talk alot.  Our job function allows us to do that and still be productive.  In fact, the fact that we can visit while we work actually enhances our productivity.  It's pretty repetitive work.  So talking helps.  On many levels.  So issues just kind of end up working themselves out through the conversations we have.   We talk about everything while we work and we work freaking HARD! Sometimes we complain, but we get stuff done and we get it done right.  The other teams all want to be us, but they can't be us, because we have this cool factor that cannot be duplicated. I'm so not even joking about that.  Okay...kind of I am, but seriously?  We have had other people from other teams in the department tell us that they envy the fact that our team is so tight.  They think it's awesome.  We think it's awesome too.  It just kind of happened...so we embraced it. 

My team members are HI. LAR.I.OUS!  They make me laugh harder than I have laughed in years.   I have also cried on a few occasions while I was there.  Yeah.  I know.  EXTREMELY unprofessional.  And the tears completely hit me out of nowhere.  Raging hormones and stress, I guess.  My team?  Hugged me, grabbed me a Kleenex and proceeded to think of every stupid or funny thing they could say to help me get it under control.  When that didn't work, they took me outside and talked me through the meltdown, then said some more really stupid, funny things and we all moved on.  They took me at face value and let me cry and several of them even offered some really good and helpful advice.  Amazingly helpful coming from people who are so different than me.  They get how hard this transition has been for me.  They laugh about it alot. They enjoy watching the rollercoaster of emotions that I go through on a minute by minute basis there.  I'm up, I'm down, I'm up, I'm down...it's like that for most of the shift.  Although I have to say, in my defense, I think I am finally leveling out, but I'm glad I can provide some much needed comic relief with my mood swings and work place trauma.  

My new friends are all (okay, mostly all) hard workers and fair-minded people with wit and charm and intelligence and beauty.  They make working away from home tolerable.  They value me, not only as a co-worker but as a person.  They let me mother them (most are younger than me!) and they take care of me and we all talk about life after the Census.  If I could I bring them to my next place of business I would, 'cause I don't want to make new friends and go through getting to know a whole new group of people again in a few months when this job is over.  If I have to work outside of my home for a while, I want to work with THESE friends.  They have made my first venture back into the workforce a memorable and mostly fun experience. So I need to thank Eric, Jesse, Lizzette, Monica, Mercedes, Roxann, Patrick, Faith, Brittany, Mike, Melody, Pat, Stephen, Pebble, LT and Marilee for helping me see that I can survive out in the work world.  Your support and humor have made all the difference where this job is concerned and I am a better person for knowing each one of you.

And last - at least for now - I have to publicly thank my Heavenly Father for providing me and my family with what we need and for giving me the strength I need every day to face the challenges that are in front of me.  He has blessed me greatly.        

My Gratitude Post

So you've all listened to me whine and complain and vent and stress and whatever else it is that I do and have done over the last two years on this blog when it comes to my personal and wanted professional life.  I'm sure there are times when you all wonder if I am EVER going to make peace with my issues and finally lay them to rest!?!  You know what?  I wonder the same thing.  And I can tell you that I am closer than I have ever been to just letting go of all those things that have kept me from living the kind of life I want for me and for my family.  My boys and my husband (and myself, for that matter!) deserve the best I can give them and I have not given any of us the best of who I am.

The last months/year have brought comments and support from all kinds of people in my life and for the first time ever, I feel like I have finally been in a place to receive the help with humility and gratitude, rather than with embarrassment and guilt.  Being able to accept the help without feeling like a loser was a huge step for me.  Without those feelings of worthlessness and stupidity clouding my view, I see things from a very different perspective.  For the first time in a very long time I have hope that my life can be the life I want it to be, regardless of my past, regardless of who I married, regardless of my parenting skills, regardless of my level of education, regardless of the stress that comes with each new trial.  I can be the person I want to be, inspite of what my negative self says.

I know, this is like 2nd grade psychology.  I tell my kids stuff like this everyday.  I just never tell myself stuff like this.  But other people have been good about telling me stuff like this.  People like my friend with the very funny son who makes hilarious videos.  She's been quietly following my blog for some time now.  She never leaves comments so I had no idea she read my posts.  Until she sent me an email after I freaked out about that job I didn't get but really wanted.  She gave me some excellent advice, which I followed.  I still didn't get that particular job, but I feel a lot better about my ability to get that killer job, whenever I run across another one.  So I want to thank my new friend for taking the time to offer a kind word and some really good counsel.  She made a difference in my life.

I have to thank my family.  My mom and sister have gone out of their way to help me work through the financial situation with which we have struggled for the past 2 years.  I know they look at me sometimes and wonder what is wrong with me and why I make the choices I make.  I have wondered the same thing, on many, many occasions.  All I can say is that part of the reason I have had the financial struggle is because I have had to struggle with other demons that have kept me from being able to go forward sometimes.  But I think I finally have a handle on all of emotions and I am done being helpless and paralyzed by fear.  Thanks for not judging me. 

I also want to thank my regular readers:  Miss Hope, Miss Pike, Kristi, Sports Mama, Queen of Chaos,  Deana, Denise, Tam, Trisha, Alepuz, Koni, Bandana Mom, Party of Six, Suzanne, all the other Boy Moms out there and the many, many other readers who stop by regularly to stay in touch and either commiserate or laugh at my endless conundrums.  I love and appreciate each and every one of you.  Even the chick who posts in whatever Asian language you write in.  I don't know what you are saying, but thanks for the effort.

Bear with me, people, I know this is starting to sound like an Academy Award speech.  I just need to do this while I am still  full of gratitude today.  Tomorrow might find me exhausted and grumpy again, with no desire to say anything nice to anybody.

I also want to thank the companies who have worked with me to offer products for my review and giveaways for my readers.  I have gotten to know many of you on a more personal level and have enjoyed making new friends (Maria and Amy and BSM Media, Jeff, Jason).  You have all been extremely helpful when I have asked for advice or help or even sponsorships.  It means a lot to me that you are willing to give me the opportunity to use my writing skills to help promote your products.  I work hard to give honest reviews and to let the people in my circle of influence know about who you are and what you have to offer in the way of products that are family friendly, I hope that my efforts have helped you as much as you have helped me.  It has been so rewarding and fun to share what you make and sell with the people around me, in my neighborhood and around the blogosphere.  The fact that I am kind of the "gal-in-the-know" who gets the cool hook-ups has shot me up the cool ladder about 8 rungs.  So thanks for helpin' a sistah get some street creds, guys. 

This post is getting long now and I can feel eyes glazing over as some of you keep reading and reading and reading and thinking "Oh my Gosh! Does she ever stop talking?" Nope. I don't. So I will wrap this post up for today and continue my gratitude post as Part 2 tomorrow. Lots of love and hugs to all my blog friends and family! Ya'll rock out loud!

A Day for Giving Thanks

As Thanksgiving Days go, this could seriously go down as the worst ever if I were to judge it by normal standards. The meal was less than tasty, the company in which we ate the meal was very Jerry Springer-ish, there was nothing festive to eat at home when we returned from our wreck of a meal and the neighbor kid got his bike stolen from out of his garage in broad dayight, which made my boys sad. But you know what? It wan't a bad day. It was weird and different, but as a family, we enjoyed each other. And we really needed a day to just take time to be with each other.

The food thing? Went down like this...Gramma ended up having a lot of last minute dinner guests, which stressed her out and her food suffered because of the stress. So hubby and kids didn't chow down like they normally do. Now me? I'm not judging Gramma or her efforts cause been there, it's a lot of food to cook and I've messed up my share of meals.

The people thing? Was just wierd. The in-law situation is touchy when things are normal, which is NOT our definition of normal. Again, not judging, just stating a fact regarding our differences in how we filter reality. Their reality is an open door kind of thing, where lots of different "characters" are welcome in their home, like their current son-in-law and his friends. There were some real winners there today. I won't go into details. Let's just say we lead very different lifestyles from the visitors there today. Which is fine, but awkward when they are obviously used to "that special kind of oregano" and kegs as part of the meal...and having to constantly remind them there were kids present during some of the conversations was even MORE awkward, given that some of the kids were their own! Again, not judging...they were nice people. Just different and I think they were glad to have a place to be for Thanksgiving.

THEN... because I have moronic moments of what think is brilliance, I decided not to buy a lot of food for today, because I usually bring home lots of leftovers. But we boogied so fast from Grammy's house this year that we didn't have anything thanksgiving-y for dinner. Little Man was straight out mad that he didn't get deviled eggs this year and Big Brother wanted some stuffing without burnt gravy like Gramma's.

We didn't have any of that. So we ate burgers and watched Star Trek the movie. The kids were happy, Big Man was happy, I was happy and we had brownies for dessert. Total peace and satisfaction. And I am grateful. Because as weird as the day was...I recognized my blessings. Actually, I recognized them because of the weirdness.

I realized how important my husband and boys are to me. Their happy faces and laughter make my heart sing. Spending time with them brings me joy (most days) and I would be lost without them (most days).

I realized that the guests at my MIL's house were just cash strapped people trying to build a life like we are right now, but they had no family to turn to or to eat with. And I am grateful that we have somehow managed to keep our home and a shred of dignity and that through the grace of God and generosity of family, we have survived an incrediby tough year.

I realized that even though the food was not her best, I am very blessed to have a MIL who was willing to take the time to prepare a huge meal and have us over to celebrate with the family. I am so grateful that I have family close to me. And that I didn't have to cook. Or clean up!

I am grateful that my MIL was understanding when my husband wanted to leave early. She was gracious and loving and honestly? I think this group freaked her out a little bit too. It was nice to leave without a guilt trip.

I realized that I really am growing to love my neighbors. When M came over to ask if we had seen his bike he was so sad and it made us all sad for him. My boys immediately helped him scour the neighborhood while all of us parents stood around commiserating about the state of our neighborhood and speculating about who we think the offenders might be. I am grateful that I have neighbors who look out for each other and that our kids all get along (most days) and that my boys love their friend enough to want to help him with his plight.

And I am most grateful that I have a loving Heaveny Father who helped me recognize that I am where I need to be right now and that I am truly blessed with all I need right now. Other than a job. I still need that.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Boymom Has a "Girly" Day

It was like a mystical, magical girl kingdom where no boys were allowed. There was girl food (like Brie, which I got for free as a product tester!) and chocolate covered strawberries (which I also got for free by becoming a fan of Edible Arrangements on Facebook!)and there were crafty things like fun paper and paper punches and embellishments(all of this was also free, courtesy of houseparty.com and Martha Stewart Crafts). And there was glitter. EVERYWHERE! And we loved it. It was one of the best days I have had in a long, long time. And it was the first time in a long, long time that I got to feel like a girl again. I am still sparkly from the party. Twinkly on the outside from all the glitter that continues to adhere itself to anything and everything in the house. Shiny and happy on the inside cause I got to spend the day with some of my favorite women. Doing fru-fru stuff that I never do.

Why? Because I Am Boymom. Boymom's are busy super gluing broken laser guns and pulling rocks out of pants pockets. This boymom gave up on trying to do anything "girly" awhile ago. Girly just didn't seem to fit into the boymom equation. Plus, you know...I've never been really crafty anyway, so the whole boymom excuse works for me. Until this last Saturday. When my friends and family showed up and the glitter came out. The little girl in me leapt out of my heart and into my life again and she was alive and ready to play! Wanna see what we did?

Looks like fun, yes? IT WAS! I felt like Buddy the Elf! It was so fun and happy and Christmas - y I could barely contain my glee! I know...it sounds preposterous that something as trivial as a craft party could transform my attitude. I seriously think Martha Stewart put something magical in the glitter. I might have to rub it on my arms and face everyday now to maintain the positive attitude.

I guess I just had no idea how much I needed to let go of life's grind and let down for a few hours with some really cool chicks.

One of those cool chicks is one of my best blogger friends EVAH! She drove from the far end of China to get here , which was a HUGE sacrifice of her time and gas and she brought her wicked awesome son, who spent a few hours keeping my boy crew entertained. Sports Mama is an hilarious boymom who either keeps me in stitches or tears with her blog posts. It was so wonderful finally getting to meet her. We seem to have so much in common, she's definitely a kindred spirit. You can read her thoughts about our girl party here.

I've spent so long being in "Boy" mode that I had kind of forgotten how much girls need to be around other girls sometimes. My craft party was a great reminder to me that I need to let "Geri" come out once in awhile to play. Because although I like playing army man and watching Star Wars for the 109th time as much as the next gal? Sometimes I just need to be glittery and feel pretty and loved.

I want to thank my wonderful friends and neighbors and sister for showing up to help me reconnect and feel human again. Having you as my guests was the best start I could think of to what could be one of my most memorable holiday seasons ever.