Dreams and lack of sleep...

I can't write these days. Too much inner turmoil, not enough privacy, too many decisions to make...I don't know what the answer is. Probably all of the above plus more. I have the same problem with sleep lately. I lie there, in bed, my body exhausted, but my brain mulling over options and ideas, dreams and goals. I have a dream (not a nighttime, while you are sleeping kind of dream, I mean a life dream) that keeps coming up lately. I dream of living a much more simple life. On a small farm. My children, myself. A few animals. A life of church and family. Laughter, board games, laundry on the line in summer. No television, a smaller life. A life where things don't matter anymore, and people do. A life of giving to others. Of homemade bread, and canning. A life of fireflies, and shoveling snow, and an occassional trip to Starbucks. A life of reading in the evenings, and feeding the goats (chickens? horse? cow?), and walking with our dog loose from his leash. The life I had growing up (somewhat....then it was a monkey and jungles and riding on top of the jeep while swarms of blue butterflies fly from small puddles along the dirt road), and the life I want for my kids. I'm tired of this one. This craziness of "getting ahead" and buying the latest gadgets and keeping up with the neighbors and Hannah Montana and PS3 and get a new car and more and more and more. I want my kids in a country school. I want to garden.

I told my mom about this dream I keep running across, and she said, "You need to let that go, you know you will never have that with Brad." And my heart broke. And she's right. He will never want that life.

I'm struggling in my marriage. I'm annoyed with myself for saying that. Not because it is an untruth, but because I have said it for so many years. Year after year after year. I would avoid talking to me....I've become that wife who always complains about her husband, talks about what a struggle it is, and then doesn't do anything about it. Ugh, I don't like her.

Head's up...I'm going to do some more husband complaining. It won't be pretty. And I won't apologize for it. He lost his job 3 weeks ago. And I can't be the supportive considerate wife because it was his fault. It was through his own dishonest actions that he lost his job. So I am angry. And if he were to learn from his mistake, strive to change and do better, then I could be the supportive considerate wife. But he hasn't. He doesn't. He has put out maybe 8 resumes (his figure, I think it is considerably less than that) in the past 3 weeks. He hasn't ramped up work on the house, or started working out, or gotten more involved in church, or taken his children anywhere. He is doing nothing with his time. So when I say that I am tired of him being in my home during the day, it is more than simple annoyance. Saturday I installed a new mailbox, and took all of the old caulk off of the tub and shower surround. Then I put new caulk in. Then I grocery shopped. And made dinner. What did he do? He sat in the living room, using the company laptop that he has yet to return, and looked up information and videos about people using Ouiji boards. I kid you not. He skipped church Sunday. He is gambling again...with what very little money we have left.
I can't change him. I can't make him a better person. I can't make him want to be different. I am thisclose to pulling a Pontius Pilate and washing my hands of him. And I think that would probably be the best for everyone involved, including him.

Labor Day

In honor of Labor Day, here is a meme from Rocks in My Dryer...

How long were your labors?
Emilie: 26 hours
Landon: 17 hours
Here's hoping if I ever am blessed with another child that the trend of shorter labors continues...

How did you know you were in labor?
Contractions started, and got closer together.

Where did you deliver?
In the hospital with both of them. I have to admit that the hospital I delivered Emilie at, in Ohio, was much nicer than the one I had Landon in here in PA.

Drugs?
You bet your bottom dollar. I went as long as I could with both of them, and then happily got the epidural. Thank God for wise people who developed those. With Landon, I had it twice...the first time it only numbed half of my body. Grrr. And no, half is NOT better than none at all.

C-section?
No, and I am so glad. I REALLY did not want one.

Who delivered?
The doctor. I liked Emilie's doctor much more than Landon's, but no matter, they both got here safely.

Anger

I am so angry lately. It bubbles just below the surface, begging to be released. I've never been an angry person, a bitter person, one to complain....and a friend of mine make an off-hand remark the other day about me not speaking on a certain topic because I would be "sour grapes". She didn't mean it to be harsh. She was just speaking what she saw. Her truth. And I have become that. I'm a downer. This week I have asked a few close friends to pray for me. To pray that God would show me, very clearly, what direction He would have me take. Anyone who has prayed this.....do you, deep down, really hope that it is one certain direction? I keep praying that His will would be done....but tagging onto that this phrase, "But God, you know that if you want me to go that other direction, you will have to change my heart and mind". Is that wrong? I'm just so tired of hurting and being angry and growing bitter. I want to be light-hearted again. And happy. And I want to sing. I want to be a joy-giver to people, not an emotion drainer.

I leave Saturday for a week with my in-laws. Time will be spent with both sets. I am really not looking forward to this at all. Keep those prayers going for me.

Ugh.

Bigger Better Pinker

My daughter has two girls in the neighborhood that she plays with. She's 6, they are 8 and 9. As anyone who is a girl, or has a girl, or knows a girl, or works with a girl knows....three means that there will always, ALWAYS be drama of some sort. Any combination of the girls, when in pairs alone, get along well. But throw a third in the mix, and there are fights and tears and "she saids" and hurt feelings. The oldest of the three girls is a tomboy. She's active and involved in lots of sports and isn't into boys and fashion and things of that nature. The middle one is a girly girl. And my daughter tags along with the other two. My daughter is NOT perfect. She is dramatic and mouthy (at 6? Oh yeah, you betcha!). However....however....I admit all of that. The mom of the Tomboy gets it too. Her daughter isn't perfect either. Mom of the middle one...Girly Girl...she doesn't get it. Her daughter can do NO wrong. And if her daughter did any wrong it is because the other two hurt her feelings. Tomboy mom just called me, for the first time ever, because she heard from the girls that there was some birthday drama. See, Em didn't have a birthday party this year. Instead, I told her that over the summer she could have a friend spend the night. And it was supposed to be a friend who is the son of my good bud...the boy who had her over to spend the night earlier this year. Well, she started talking about this "sleepover party" and each of the two girls was invited by my daughter. And then uninvited. And then invitied but only one of them. And the invited one was flip-flopped depending on which one Em was getting along with. And I told her that there was no "sleep over party", and I told them that there was no sleep over party. But GirlyGirl went home and cried to mom, and mom called me yesterday to complain that my daughter was hurting her feelings by telling her she was invited and then telling her that no, Tomboy was invited. And I explained to mom that there never WAS a sleep over party. And I talked, quite seriously, with my daughter and as a punishment for misbehaving she lost any sleep over at all. Back to Tomboy's mom. She called to commiserate with me over GirlyGirl's mom. GirlyGirl's mom used to call and complain to her all that time that Tomboy did this, or Tomboy said that...and Tomboy's mom said she wouldn't talk about it anymore, that the girl's had to work it out amonst themselves. Then Tomboy's mom told me the tale of "Bigger Better Pinker". Seems that the last 3 of Tomboy's birthday parties, GirlyGirl has been invited. And when Tomboy opens something that GirlyGirl wants, GirlyGirl cries for one. First year, Tomboy got a bicycle, GirlyGirl took one look at it, burst into tears, and told daddy that she wanted a bicycle, a bigger, better, pinker one. Next year, it was some other toy. Year after that, tears again....so Tomboy no longer has birthday parties. I laughed....because last year Emilie got a Webkinz and GirlyGirl saw it and ran home and 10 minutes later GirlyGirl's mom called and wanted to know where to find them. Next day, GirlyGirl comes over with FIVE of them. This summer, my dad and I built a swingset/playhouse in my backyard. GirlyGirl's mom came over and checked it out during the build. Week later, GirlyGirl's dad is out back, building a BIGGER swingset. With a zip line. Laughable, and doesn't bother me. But I can't wait until school starts and GirlyGirl is involved in school again, and dance, and whatever other activities keep her out of my hair. She has a nasty attitude, and a mouth, and lies all the time. And mom thinks she is perfect. And they are all driving me batty. I got out of junior high a gazillion years ago, and you couldn't pay me enough to be a teenage girl again. It was a relief to know that Tomboy's mom understands, could care less if Tomboy is invited to something or not, and is not at all about one-upping. Oh, and if Tomboy does something, I have free rein to yell at her and send her home. Not that I would, but Tomboy's mom understands that Tomboy is not perfect. :)
PS Two days ago GirlyGirl thought it would be funny to bring their big Golden Retriever up to my sliding glass door to bark at my little schnauzer. When I calmly and not at all angrily pointed for her to take her dog home, she ran home and told mom that I had cussed at her. Me, who doesn't cuss at anyone. Ever. Laughable. How do I know that she told mom this, because mom called. I'm tired of seeing her number on my phone.

Inafunk

That's my new word. Go on, say it out loud. Slur it all together. Inafunk. Doesn't that just about describe it all? Yep, I'm Inafunk. Blech. So, to try to jumpstart my way out of my funk, I'm going to list some good things that have happened lately....

• My sister had her baby last Friday morning. I got to be there for the whole thing. It was amazing and exciting and scary. And not as icky as I imagined. It was hard to see her in pain, but okay because I knew what the end result of it would be. And he is here, safe and sound, and she is okay too. Corin Elias _____ 8lbs, 2 oz, 20 inches long. He has an aunt who loves him very much already. The hardest part about the whole day was the end of it...when they plopped him on her belly, and then they scooped him back up, cleaned him off, gave him a bit of oxygen, weighed him, measured him, put him under the heat, then wrapped him up and handed him to Daddy....all this while I only got to watch. What??! I don't get to hold the new baby? Mommy got stitched up and then she held him, then Daddy held him again and then finally, FINALLY, I got to hold the creature that made me an aunt. Ugh. That whole part of not being the one on the bed, delivering the baby, not being the one to hold him first, yeah, that part was not fun. But I'm making up for that time now. :)
• God gave me a little blessing. My sister started her labor on the 24th. I got in the car to go with them to the hospital at the very time that one year ago I discovered the emails that showed me that my husband was having an affair. I have dreaded the 24th's arrival for the past several weeks, and God saw my mounting pain. My sister wasn't due until August 1st. So all that day, the day when I would have sat at home, remembering and hurting again, He gave me someone else's pain to focus on. And it was freeing and healing. And now when I think of the 24th/25th of July, it will be because of the birth of my nephew, and not for any other reason. God is good. Can I get an Amen?
• My kids built a blanket fort this morning, and I could hear them in the other room, giggling and playing nicely together. I have good kids. My 6 year old is such a great big sister, and my 21 month old is so funny. I have been blessed beyond all measure when it comes to them. I love being a mom. Most days.
• I found out a few hours ago that my older of the two younger brothers is coming to town for a week. Oh how I have missed having him around. I'm thrilled that he is coming.
• Never got a chance to post about the week in VA. Hope to, but one thing happened that may sound like a funny thing to be thankful for. My grandma (mamaw) died while we were down there. She had lung cancer, and we knew she didn't have much more time, so we weren't surprised, but it was still sooner than we expected. I got a chance to say goodbye to her, Emilie came in and held her hand and talked to her some, and my mom was able to be there right to the end. I am so glad I decided to go to VA after all, and so glad that I was able to say goodbye. We were able to attend the viewing and the funeral, and I was also able to help my mom and her siblings clean up and clear out my mamaw's house.
• Tossing this in for no other reason than that it just crossed my mind....I have a good dog. He'll be 2 next month, and he is a miniature schnauzer. He came already house-trained, never chews the kids' toys, and doesn't shed. He is cute and sweet and good-natured. Perfect dog for us.

Okay, feeling less inafunkish now. I should do that more often. Off to do more laundry, finally do those dishes, and figure out dinner.

I feel blue....

My brother once said that he associated people he knew with certain colors. Which I found funny at first becuase he is partially color blind, but then I realized that I too "saw" a certain color when I thought of someone. For example, my friend Stephanie is a soft gray, my friend Tayo is a deep brown, my brother's girlfriend is a sharp yellow, Emilie is a slash of gold, Landon is a sky blue, buyit is a steel gray with sparkling, glistening splashes of green and blue and pink and orange, especially orange. See, you guys are doing it now too. Thinking of people and what color they are.
I don't know what color I am, but I know that my moods have colors. And today I am blue. Deep ocean blue. With turquoise and dark, dark green swirling through it. The blue is my underlying sadness, and the swirling colors are the sense of accomplishment I feel for having just hung the blinds in Landon's room, hung his hook shelf, hung his growth chart, cleaned, put his clothes away, etc. So I'm sad today, but feeling proud of what I've accomplished. But it is easier to say I feel blue, with swirling accents of turquoise and green.
I like the days that I feel green. Bright spring grass green. Or when I feel orange. I'm fun when I'm feeling orange. Purple is not a good day. Red is when I feel dangerously sexy. And pink, soft fuzzy sweater pink....that's how I feel when I hold my sleeping babies.
So how about you guys....what colors are you? What colors are your family and loved ones? What colors are you enemies?

Nope, wasn't about cheese...

This was written the same day as my last post....but I only posted it on my xanga blog. So for those of you who don't read that one, here it is...

Brad called me about an hour ago and asked if I was upset. And I did something rare for me....I told him the truth. I told him that I was furious. That I was angry not only with his dad, but with him. I got it all out....how I feel like he has mistakenly led them to believe that our marriage issues are because of things that I have done or not done, he let them think that the reason we are getting along okay now is because I have changed those "issues", I ripped him a new one for not making any changes in how he relates with me. I told him that I feel invisible to him. I told him that it was a year ago this time that he was involved in an affair and in the past year he has not made any effort to show me that I am cherished, or loved, or special. He has yet to plan a date for us, he has yet to give me any little tokens of his love, he has yet to show me that he wants to continue to be married to me. I let him know that I was angry that his dad think so little of me, that it is his fault they have this opinion of me, and that it is only because of all the effort and time I put into holidays and celebrations that our children will have any of those memories at all. I plan all birthdays, I plan all holidays, I do the gift buying and the celebrating. Me. By myself. And I give him half credit for those things with our children. And I understand that this is what a mom does, but I want his family to know that I do those things. And apparently they don't. I told him how angry I was that he uses me as an excuse with his friends or boss when he doesn't want to do things. I basically unloaded it all. And he, I think, got it. And he said he needed a fire lit up under his ass in order to make those changes. And I told him, "consider that fire lit".
As for his dad. I don't know that I want to put any more effort into that relationship. I really don't want to visit them. I don't mind if Brad does, and I certainly wouldn't say that my children can't go, but I don't see the need for me to put myself into that environment. My brother lives a few hours away. Maybe I can visit with he and his wife while Brad and the kids visit with them. No loss to me. I will continue to send pictures, but I won't be putting extra effort into gift buying or letter writing. Why do I need to convince them that I am a good person? My family and friends know who I am. Shame on them for not seeing it. Not my problem.