My Tarot Reading for 2010

I have a friend that is a professional Tarot reading. Not one of those 'for entertainment purposes only' kinds but a true honest to goodness Tarot reader. She's read my cards many times and sadly, none of them mention me getting the hot bod I've always wanted but that's okay. Probably the cards are old; you know, from a time when hot bods looked different than they do today.

She read my cards for this coming year. I found it to be interesting. I know there is some 'give' to the deciphering of the meaning surrounding what each card means but I believe she has a good handle on where they take her and it's not primarily left to her imagination.

Here's her reading: (as she said, generalized for 2010)...

First card down is the Emperor, which means a tremendous expression of will power and control.
I like this card. This card tells me I have will power and control. That makes me happy considering I've felt a total lack of both in the past year.

Crossing that is The Tower, which means the will power and control will constantly be challenged and broken down.
This card I don't like as much. I don't mind the will power and control being challenged but I could go without the whole "broken down" part of it.

The foundation is the 5 of swords, which means trying to "clean up after a battle" and get things back in place. I believe this is the restructuring of your life and yourself after processing the grief from your mother's death.
This card holds very important words for me. Restructuring of my life and myself is something I've been 'planning' to do. I say planning because I'm still trying to figure out how to get to that point. I'm working through my grief and starting to work towards wanting things again instead of simply going through the motions of life but it's a process and it takes time. Knowing that the goal is in sight is helpful.

Passing away and out of focus is the 2 of wands, which is a strong partnership. I think this might be the attachment you have to your mother's physical presence rather than her spiritual one.

When I first read this, I felt frustrated. As a matter of fact, I'm still frustrated by it. Of course I have an attachment to my mothers physical presence. I'd like to have an attachment to her spiritual one but for me, it's lost. Perhaps I will find it this coming year. Perhaps she is here with me and I'm still too far in my grief to feel her yet but the fact is, I don't. I'm hoping what my friend did not write is that this year I feel begin to feel that attachment to her physical presence become less important and that I will find her spiritual one but I'm fairly certain she won't make that type of prediction. Knowing how important this is to me, I'm sure she doesn't want to step into that arena just yet.


What is in the works to come into being is the 9 of pentacles, which is a strong, confident woman who is able to take care of herself on many levels.
I have always been a confident woman, strong through many obstacles and issues in my life and while I feel slightly weakened by the loss of my mother, I am confident I will work through this loss and feel the strength I felt before. She will help me wtih that, I'm sure.

What is in the future is the 3 of cups, which means celebration, parties, joyfulness.
I have not been much for social activities or joyfulness and can use some of that right about now so I'm going to work toward this being right!

Over the self is the High Priestess, which is a re-exploration of the spiritual self.
I don't know if there is a spiritual self for me. For years I've felt like there should be more depth, an awakening if you will, for me but I got nothin. I try and try and I end up feeling fairly superficial and boring (for lack of a better term). I am hoping that the benefit from my mother passing is that I will have a stronger relationship with God and whatever that may entail for me. I'm feeling drawn to certain things but nothing concrete enough yet to blog about. Once I figure them out, I will.

Over the environment is the Knight of wands, which is a new energy level change, feeling physically well and vibrant.
I can certainly use that. It's time. Believe me, it's time.

Over the hopes and fears is a long term, secure family.
I take this to mean that my relationship with my husband and my family is solid and for that I am grateful. I'd like to try harder this year to enjoy it more and not take him for granted. As much. :)

Over the outcome is the Star, which is finding your goal and letting it be the power that guides you along your life path.
This is something I've been working through a lot lately. Since I turned 40, actually. What is my purpose? My life goal? My passion? I've decided that my passion doesn't have to be a job, a goal or anything specific but that my passion is simply, me. I need to be passionate about me. About my life. About living my life. Experiencing it and doing what makes me happy and helps me to grow in the ways I want to grow. This is my passion and this is the goal I will continue to strive to achieve. Will it be easy? Probably not but that's okay. Living life to its fullest is never easy but it's worth the effort.

I've printed out this reading and am keeping it in my journal. Yes, I have a journal again. I used to journal, years ago but haven't felt inspired to for a long time. Part of my plan is to start journaling again and to work through my thoughts on paper - maybe I'll sleep better at night.

I'm looking forward to 2010. I have big plans for me. I hope you have big plans for yourself, too. Truth be told, there were a lot of rough times in 2009 but there were a lot of good times too. I choose to look back at the year and see the good things, not the bad. I choose to remember the time I spent with my mom and feel confident that she knew I loved her with all of my heart. I choose to relish the new friends I made and the strength that came back into some of my old friendships, too. I choose to build from those feelings and continue down a path of positivity instead of dwelling on that which I can't control.

Happy New Year.

A Spiritual Visit

Growing up in Indianapolis, I had a friend named Naseem. We were close friends through elementary school but after I moved out of state in sixth grade, the friendship dissolved. It’s hard to keep up a friendship at that age with so many miles between you but I never forgot about her and always held a special place in my heart.

Years later, I was visiting my father in Indianapolis and he was reading the obituaries. I’m not sure when he started that and thought it was strange but I now do it too and it makes sense to me. While reading them, he mentioned, in casual conversation that a friend of mine had died. Naseem is not a common name and thus easily remembered. I was shocked. This was 1987, we were 20 years old.

Naseem was in a car accident in NYC and died instantly. I hadn’t talked to my friend in years but it made me sad. Sad for her and for her family and also for me. As I said, she held a special place in my heart and her passing impacted because she was my first ‘friend’ to die.

Her memorial service was that day and I decided to go. I didn’t talk to anyone and only stayed a minute but I felt it was important to pay my respects. I remembered the good times I shared with her as a child and felt sad for the lost chance to ever rekindle that friendship.

After she passed, I started dreaming about her. Actually, I didn’t dream about her as much as she was in my dreams. She wasn’t a part of my dreams but she was there. No one in the dream saw her. She wasn’t involved in whatever was happening in the dreams either. It was as if I would step out of the dream and have a conversation with her. She always talked to me about something happening in my life at the time. Something I was struggling with. Something I needed to work through and it never once had anything to do with the dream. She was separate from it entirely. I have not had a dream with her in it for many, many years. I just figured she’d moved on or I didn’t need her anymore.

I always felt she was there as some sort of guardian angel, helping me through a tough time. After the first few dreams, I sent her mother a letter and let her know how Naseem had impacted my life as a child and continued to as a young adult. Her mother appreciated it and we kept in touch for some time. Each time I go back to Indianapolis, to this day, I make an effort to visit her final resting place. I don’t always get there but usually do so at least once a year. I don’t stay long. I simply go, say hello and acknowledge that I still think of her and move on. I’m not sure why but I do.

The holidays have been a bit tough for me this year. It’s the first without my mom and I find myself struggling to be happy, to be involved in them. I’m going through the motions but feel sort of like a zombie. They don’t really matter. I understand the feeling and realize it’s a part of the grieving process so I’m just trying to let it happen and get through it the best I can.

The other night I had this strange dream. I was at a table with a bunch of friends and Simon Cowell. Well, first it was Simon and then he became Kevin Costner. The women at the table were all interacting and talking and I was just sitting there, not really speaking, not really interacting. Sort of like I feel lately; just kind of going through the motions. Eventually everyone got up from the table, except me. I have no idea where they were going.

I just sat there for a minute and then suddenly, there’s Naseem, next to me. I couldn’t really see her clearly. She was more like a voice than an actual person but I knew it was her. She told me, clear as day, “You need to get on with your life.” I looked at ‘her’ (which was more like a fuzzy aura) and said, “But you don’t understand. I’m grieving.” She simply replied, “I understand, believe me. But you need to get on with your life.”

And then she was gone and I woke up.

I know my friend came back to me at a time when I needed someone; someone to tell me to move on and start living my life again, not just go through the motions. I would have liked to talk with her longer. Maybe ask her HOW to do that. It’s not that I’m not trying. I was making progress, going through the stages of grief but functioning and working at starting to work toward some goals again. Then the holidays came and I tried very hard to be festive. I decorated the house, I shopped for gifts, I made plans. Unfortunately it’s all just there and I feel numb to it. I’ll get through it and I know I’ll be okay but I think Naseem wanted to give me a swift kick in the ass to push myself.

I’m forever fascinated at the power of faith and I believe God uses those we love to help us through hard times or questionable circumstances in our lives. I believe Naseem is watching over many people and only comes when needed. I don’t know if I’ll see her again but those few words are weighing heavily on my heart and I’m trying to figure out a way to do what she said. Hopefully once the holidays are through, I’ll be able to.

On Forgiveness...

Last night my husband and I went to dinner with our best friends. They have been our friends since 2003 but really, the friendship kicked into high gear after that Christmas. They're good people. (Yes, Peter, I'm talking about you and your wife who never reads my blog so I won't name her!)

They make me laugh. Peter was trying to talk while sitting on his hands and couldn't do it. It's okay. No one wants him to talk without his hands. It takes away from the experience of his story, which is always humorous, even if it's not supposed to be. Really, when you hang out with Peter, it's hard to be in a bad mood. Unless his wife is. Then it's best to run screaming.

Anyway, he made mention of reading my blog in the way that he always does, just by gently acknowledging it in an casual way. He also made mention that I have mentioned other friends and not them so now I have.

Can I move on to another subject now, Peter?

Actually, after dinner, my husband and I were giggling about them, as we always do. We have rarely left a night out with them feeling crappy. Usually if we do, it's because my husband becomes mean Jack or I'm in a crappy mood - not because of them. And that works. :) We had a relationship that was just ending when we met Peter and unnamed wife that wore us down and made us feel crappy so this one is a nice change.

(Peter, notice the nice transition into the subject of my blog here, please.)

This got me thinking. I've been reading a LOT lately and read something about forgiveness. Apparently it's good for the soul and all that. I read that if you don't forgive someone or someones, it can eat away at you, make you older, sick, whatever but that apparently, it's not good to not forgive. Here's my problems with that theory:
1. What if you just don't want to forgive? If the person or people don't deserve it or if you've tried and you can't?
or
2. What if it just doesn't matter anymore and there's nothing in you that gives a rats ass about the person or people, to forgive?

See, the thing is, this couple that we were friends with...prior to really getting to know Peter and his unnamed wife... and my husband and I, had a falling out and the friendship did not end well. I was told to forgive this 'friend' for what she did to me and for awhile, I tried. I truly tried. But it didn't work.

In a nutshell, what happened was silly and immature and I have come to understand after all this time, not at all my fault. Trust me, I took blame for it for some time but realize my actions in the incident were reactions to what was happening.

I realized this friend wasn't really my friend at all and instead felt jealous and insecure. I started to see the friendship for what it was and took steps to move my life in another direction. I began getting to know people at my health club and establishing relationships with others so I wasn't tied to having just one friend, which is pretty much how it had been for five years. (this is where Peter and his unnamed wife come in.)

This friend didn't like that. She told me that she and her husband really didn't like to have a big group of friends and liked to have just one or two couples that they hung out with. Which is funny because years before she said the opposite. Whatever. I felt things were starting to change and I felt it was right for me to move forward in my life in a direction that didn't center on that relationship. I didn't shut her out. I didn't blow her off. I invited her to places with us but it just wasn't her thing and that was fine. She had always done what was best for her as an individual when it came to things in our friendship and I hadn't. It was time I did and I made that choice.

Around the same time she and I both mentioned to each other that we wanted to have some cosmetic changes made to ourselves. I had been thinking about it for some time but hadn't said anything because I didn't want to create any tension in the relationship. As I said, I felt some jealousy issues on her part (though she accused me of them, actually) and I didn't want to make things worse.

I mentioned to her that if I were to have this procedure done and she wouldn't, would she be mad at me. She said yes. Now correct me if I'm wrong but if someone has something that you want and you get mad, that's called envy and jealousy, right? Just checking.

I thought about it for some time and decided to have the procedure done and it came to be that her husband would not allow her to, even though he'd promised her she could. I felt bad but took a page from her book and did it because it felt right for me and I wanted to think of myself and my feelings for a change.

Yup, she got mad. It pushed that growing wall between us even further into the mix and I knew it would. Could I have NOT done it? Sure but I made a decision and her jealousy was hers to deal with, not mine. Besides, she also told me she would do it whether I was upset or not so I figured what the hell.

A few other things happened that drove the friendship further apart and eventually it took a final blow. I was fine with it. I had made friends and worked hard to break away from the negativity my husband and I continued to feel in their presence.

After the final blow (or what I thought was the final blow), she called my house. I didn't answer but my husband didn't know her cell number and did. Since she lived right across the street from me, I knew she knew I was home and I felt like I should answer. She wanted to meet for a drink to talk. I didn't want to do it but felt it was the right thing to do. I know now that it was not.

Prior to that I'd written her a letter telling her what I felt I had done wrong in our relationship (I'm big on closure) and held her responsible for her actions too. She wanted to talk about that. We did. She told me that I was her best friend and she did not want the friendship to end and that I meant the world to her. That she loved me and that many of the things I'd written in that letter were correct.

I took that information home, processed it and talked to my husband. He was done. He wanted nothing to do with them and while I knew in my heart, he was right, I felt like I needed to 'make sure'. I made an effort to be her friend. I spent time with her and she treated me fine. Her husband, whom I hadn't liked in a long time, was nice and even asked for my husband's help in looking at a house they were buying to make sure it didn't have any major problems. He didn't want to do it but did it because I asked him to.

They moved about two weeks later. The night they left a group of men in pick up trucks came to their house across from us (they still owned it) and started walking around it. I called her to let her know. Her daughter answered the phone and I heard my 'best friend' say in the back ground, "Tell her you don't know where I am."

And I was done. I was hurt and I was pissed. I went out of my way for this woman who claimed all this wonderful BS about how she felt about me because I thought it was the right thing to do and she yet again, stabbed me in the back. Would I ever learn? She'd moved from across the street from us and her husband, I'm sure, decided the friendship was over. Control freak that he was. And still is, I'm sure.

I never called her again. I did see her a few times along the way and ignored her. Except for once when I saw her on the street and honked and flipped her off. Clearly the forgiving thing wasn't working for me. Hey, I thought to hit her with my car but I didn't. Progress, right? She called me right after and I didn't answer. I knew there was nothing left to say and I didn't want to deal with it.

She knows what she did. She knows that she told me all of that stuff and that I made that effort for her to slap me in the face again. The thing is, I think she actually meant it. I think the friendship ended that way because her husband has a big ego and couldn't do it. I said some things about him that pissed him off (because they were true) and he couldn't forgive. Maybe he should read the stuff I read recently.

Since then, I've seen her searching for me on a few things like reunion.com and Facebook. She blocked me on Facebook which cracks me up because I would never try to friend her. I actually sent her an email on reunion.com once and said if she's that interested in my life then she should just ask me about it. I would talk to her. I wouldn't be rude to her. I wouldn't be her best friend but I wouldn't be rude. Not anymore. She just doesn't really matter anymore.

And that's where we get back to this forgiveness thing. I haven't forgiven her for what she did to me. I tried but for a long time I was hurt and angry and I couldn't. Then the hurt and anger went away. It wasn't a process of forgiveness. It was a process of "there's a lot of other stuff in my life and she's simply not important" and it just stopped mattering.

Why should I put the effort into forgiving someone when it no longer matters to me? I don't feel anger or hurt or anything toward her. I don't wish anything bad to happen to her and her family but honestly, I don't care if anything good happens either. I simply don't care anymore.

Some people might say that I still care if I'm writing about this but the fact is, when analyzing my life before the new year (which I always do), the only people I could come up with that I might need to forgive are her and her husband. Otherwise, I got nothing. And after thinking about it, I realized you have to care about a situation or a person if you want to forgive them and I simply don't. She's like that stranger at the mall who walks past you. You don't want anything bad to happen to them but they have absolutely no impact on your life whatsoever.

So is forgiveness really all it's cracked up to be? Sure, if that person is an active part of your life, I think so. I think it can eat away at you, the hurt and anger or whatever but if that person is gone and your feelings for them are gone too, there's simply nothing to forgive.

Since that friendship ended, Peter and his unnamed wife and my husband and I have become close. She and I talk daily, usually several times. We are very similar and do not have any problems in our relationship. We don't argue. I know that if I truly need someone, she's there. We're not mushy and emotional and we don't talk about mushy and emotional stuff. I'm not jealous or envious of her (okay, I do wish I was her height but that's not her fault) and I'm quite confident she's not jealous or envious of me. Except for maybe my boobs. :) It's two women that get along, have things in common and don't give a crap about the stupid stuff and it works. I suspect this friendship will be around for a long time. It's one of those kinds that just works and I don't think it would really change unless our situations changed, we moved, they moved, something like that. Would we still be friends? Sure, just maybe not the friends that hang out almost every weekend.

Oh, and I KNOW it would change if I ever started liking sports. Which, sorry Peter, is NEVER going to happen.

Music, Mayhem and Madness

My daughter is completing college application essays. I feel for her because not only does she hate to write, she's not the best at it, either. She's applying to the University of Georgia and one of the required essay questions is:

"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent."
Victor Hugo
If someone were to look at your music collection right now, they would probably know a great deal about who you are. Individuals are drawn to music, and each song conveys something about that person. Select a musical piece to be your theme song. Tell us what it would be, and more specifically, why it represents who you are. (200 Word Limit)

I would write it for her but I don't know much about the music she listens to and therefore can't even pick a song. Actually, between you and me, I don't want to write it anyway!

It did, however, get me thinking about music. I love music. Since I was a little girl, it's always been a part of my life. I remember sitting in my childhood living room listening to "A Hole in the Bucket" and "Sweet Caroline" while eating Malted Milk Balls and drinking Dr. Pepper with my dad.

Songs bring back memories and feelings and take me back in time. They remind me of friends, of situations and events; some good and some well, not so much.

I'm not sure though, if there is a song that defines me. I think that's a hard essay to write. There are songs that relate to times in my life but I don't think I can pick just one song as my theme. There are simply too many me's to consider.

There's the mom-me. She loves "Can't Touch This" because my son dances to it as a bribe to get Dairy Queen. He doesn't know I'm usually planning to get it for him anyway and I'm not going to tell him because I love to see him dance!

There's the misses my mom-me. I can barely listen to Faith Hill's "There You'll Be" without bursting into tears.

There's the wife-me who loves basically every cheesy love song out there and thinks about her husband during each of them.

Then I've got the 7th and 8th Grade Carolyn who loves Air Supply and REO Speedwagon's "Time for Me to Fly". The single woman who thinks BoDeans rule. This one also ties to a friend who went to virtually every BoDeans concert with me. There's my spin class songs that make me want to exercise and 80's music that makes me feel like a high school kid again.

There are just too many songs to define who I am at any given moment. What I can define though, is what music does for me. It inspires me. It releases me. It brings out feelings in me, some I like and some that just need to be released. It makes me happy. Motivates me. Annoys me. Sticks in my head until I can't stand it anymore and gets lost in time with barely a verse remembered.

Music helps me get through hard times. It makes the fun times more fun. It brightens my mood. It makes me dance (mostly by myself because I am not a good dancer!).

I'm not sure how my daughter plans to write this essay but I hope she finds a song to help her through it.

Contemplations and Life Expectations for the Over 40...well, for me, at least.

My friend Pam will be thrilled to know I'm updating this blog. Finally. She's lectured and threatened but I know she's non-confrontational so I wasn't worried. Now had she threatened something akin to eliminating all of the Snickers in town, I'd be concerned. That is a scary possibility!

There's a lot to update but not much of it is interesting so if you have more important things to do, just close down the page now and move on. Otherwise, sit down with a cup of coffee and enjoy.

Let's start with me. After all, this blog is all about me so that's a good place to start, don't you think?

I turned 43 this month. Four-tee-three. Wow. How the heck did that happen? It just baffles my mind that at four-tee-three I still think like a thur-tee-three year old. Sort of. Maybe. Anyway, considering the fact that I bawled my eyes out when I turned the big four-de, this didn't go so bad. I guess it's good to add a year than to stop, right?

Needless to say, I was fairly sad on my birthday. It was the official start of the 'firsts' for me. The first birthday without my mom. The first next year of my life without my mom. It made me feel lonely. She was the only one physically there to share the my life from day one. My father was at home watching TV (actually, probably sleeping since it was 2:30 AM but he likes to embellish a bit), so it was just mom and I and while I haven't spent a birthday with just since, it was sad to think I'll never talk with her again on that day. Or any day for that matter.

Then I had the first Thanksgiving without my mom a few days ago. It was a good holiday. I was busy cooking and cleaning and entertaining so I didn't have a whole lot of time to be sad. I thought of my mom a lot and I talked to her, giving thanks for the times I did have her close. My dad and 'step' mom (I really hate that title) were here and that was great. My father is 81 and lately I've seen his mortality. I'm sure it's because of my mom dying but it is still hard to think that in a few years I will likely have lost both my mother and my father.

I learned a big lesson with the passing of my mom and I wish I could have learned it earlier. My mother had many problems and I had many solutions to those problems. Most were health issues and I constantly told her what she needed to do to be better. She complained and got frustrated and I got frustrated with her. She had no intentions of doing any of the things I suggested and I continued to attempt to get her to change. What a waste of time. It created frustration for both of us and if I could go back and change that, I would. Now I watch my father make decisions for himself that harm him; he smokes, he doesn't move, he doesn't eat enough, etc. It frustrates me but I have learned that saying anything is pointless. He's not going to change at my suggestion and I'm not going to make him feel bad or frustrated because I don't like what he's doing. He's 81 and his life is his to do with as he pleases. What right do I have to try to change it just because I think it will keep him around longer? No right, actually. Instead of harping, I'm choosing to just let him be him and while that can be sad at times, it makes my relationship with him much easier and non-combative.

Sadly, with the onset of the holidays comes the onset of more poundage. It's time to take it seriously and start to move more. Actually, the moving more isn't the problem as much as the eating is. I found a diet in Health magazine to lose 5 lbs in 5 days so on Tuesday I start that. I say Tuesday because that will give me time to get to the store on Monday morning. It's got stuff I don't like on it but eating isn't for pleasure, right? Yeah, I know. That's my problem, too. I eat for pleasure.

Most of the holiday decor is up and 99.99% of the shopping is done. It was ALL done but my husband decided to up the budge for it, so I have more to do. Not much, which is good. I hate shopping and hate it even more over the holidays.

Indoor Lacrosse for my son starts this week and thus I'll be driving around town for a few hours a night a few nights a week again. Oh well, it could be worse. My daughter could be back in competition cheerleading. Yikes.

Oh, one more thing. Let's play a little google game here. I'm going to type a name here and see if it pulls up from google when I google it. Here it goes. "Gracie Ridder Aspenson".

Happy Thanksgiving! Pam, let's walk this week on my new greenway.

Sanding and Staining and Sneezing and Sniffling

This, it seems, is all I do lately.

Sand the walls. Paint. Sand the dining room table. Stain the dining room table. Sneeze (and out comes some lovely sawdust from the dining room table) and then sniffle. Sneeze and sniffle some more.

My kids go to school and TOUCH EVERYTHING. Then they stick their fingers in their mouths. Yes, even the one who is almost 18 and we consider the smart one. She's only doing it to bite her nails though but it still counts. They come home and I basically follow them around the house with a can of Lysol, spraying everything they touch and then what happens?

I GET THE COLD.

NyQuil has become my best friend. It's now 6 PM. Dinner is done. The kitchen is clean. I've helped my son study his vocabulary words. I've updated my Examiner.com article. I've taken a big ole' dose of NyQuil and hope to be asleep within the hour.

I'm starting to think that maybe taking NyQuil is better than sex. At least I fall asleep right after instead of staying up and planning the next day.

So off I go to lala land! Tomorrow is the last day of boot camp and I can barely move my arms from all of the sanding and staining so wish me luck!

The Start of My Book...

I've been working on this for years. It's that book everyone who wants to be a writer writes but can't seem to finish. This time, I'm finishing. My mom thought I wrote well. She clearly couldn't see through her bias but in her honor, I'm going to finish this. Here's a start to what I've already completed. Just wanted to share. I thought it might help motivate me to continue. (Another installment will be forthcoming...I have a lot of it written already but mind you, this is a DRAFT in progress...)

CHAPTER 1

As a little girl I dreamed of being a beautiful princess in a flowing gown of sparkling diamonds and rhinestones. My Prince was handsome, ingenuous and clearly adored me. Princesses spend life being doted on, never having to lift a finger. That life worked for me.
Sometimes dreams come true. Not this one. I’m more like Cinderella before the Fairy God Mother showed up. And my husband is no Prince. Case in point. We’re in the process of remodeling our all white, outdated kitchen. I’m shooting for a Tuscan look but my aim sucks. My husband of eleven years can’t help but rub it in.
“I feel like I’m drowning inside a French’s Mustard bottle.” Jake said.
“It’s supposed to be warm sun. It looked totally different in the magazine.”
“No worries, Carly. Toss in some prosciutto and mozzarella and you’ll have an Italian sub.”
No Prince here.
“You’re funny.” I stare at the can of mustard. “We should have gone with autumn breeze instead.”
Jake shrugs his shoulders and begins to clean up the paint supplies. “I’ll go back to the store and pick up the autumn breeze but we have to let this dry before we paint over it.”
“That’s fine. Sue’s coming over in a few minutes anyway. I told her I need her opinion on the color.”
“I’m sure she’ll have something enlightening to say,” he said, pounding the lid on the paint can.
“I told her I wanted her brutally honest opinion but now I’m not so sure.” Sometimes Sue’s mouth opens and things fly out before she can close it. Once I got hit with a partially chewed pea.
One cue, Sue Rowland, my best friend for the past five years, walks in through the garage door and stares at the yellow walls. “Wow. Suddenly I’m hungry. I’m thinking turkey on whole wheat.”
Jake stops pounding on the paint can. “Too late Sue, I already picked the mustard card. Try again.”
“Damn. I hate sloppy seconds. Okay, how about, whose baby crapped on your walls?”
“Oh my God, that’s it. Exactly.” Jake said.
I look closely at the walls but don’t see it. My kids never pooped mustard. Their poop was more like mashed green peas.
“I think the beige will look much better,” Sue said.
“It’s not beige. It’s autumn breeze.” I said.
“Autumn breeze. Beige. Whatever. As long as it’s not baby caca, it’ll look fine.”
Jake looks like he just won a bet. “I’m going to get the beige paint.” He pushes past the painting materials on the floor and leaves.
Sue sits at the kitchen table, picking on a dried food smudge with hot pink acrylic nails. “I’m bored. Let’s go to the coffee shop. ”
“I don’t feel like it. I’m frustrated. I need to do something physical. How about we go to Central Park and ride the off road trail and then get a coffee?”
Exercise to Sue is like going to the gynecologist. She only does it once a year. Or less, if possible. “Um, I’m thinking no. You forced me into that boot camp class last week and my thighs still burn so I’m good for a while.” She gets up from the table and heads for the door. “Call you later.”
Thirty minutes later I’m at Central Park unloading my bike from the back of my Expedition, ready to ride the three mile off road trail.
I like riding in the woods. The trees form a canopy over the trail letting the sun peak through just enough to see if I’m about to squash a snake. Squirrels dart onto the path, stuffing their fat cheeks with nuts then retreat quickly back into the trees. I feel like a foreigner in an unfamiliar country. I don’t belong here but they tolerate my visit.
The trail is nothing more than a break in ground cover with dirt as the base and a spattering of rocks and debris tossed around by animals, hikers and Mother Nature. Rounding my second mile I see a family of deer and slow down to get a better look. The fawns are closest but too busy munching on mini trees to notice me. The mother stands guard behind them, keeping a sharp eye pinned on me while the buck is further back, eating. The male-female dynamic is universal. The mother watches the kids while the father is off doing his thing. Her deep brown eyes fixate on me, silently warning me to stay clear. I coo happy sentences like, “You’re so pretty” and “Hi there mommy deer” but she doesn’t budge. I move on.
This trail has intense hills and twists but at a decent clip I can finish the three miles in about 30 minutes. If I don’t have to pee. Sometimes though, it’s like jumping on a trampoline a week after giving birth. Today all of the ups and downs kick my bladder into overdrive.
Sadly, my bladder never went back to normal after being pregnant. How could it? Take a five ton elephant and set it on top of a semi truck tire for nine months. Probably that’s what my bladder looked like after child birth and ten years later.
I jump off my bike, dodge the rocks and sticks covering the ground and head into the woods for a spot to squat. The smell of honeysuckle captures my nose and I’m tempted to pick a flower to suck its sweet nectar. Miniature sized Dogwoods bunched together with last season’s fallen leaves topped on a mound of dirt provide the perfect spot. I check behind me just in case. The key to peeing in the woods is in the positioning. I push my shorts down and balance my rear in a squat position. If I’m lucky, I won’t back splash.
I have a to-go roll of toilet paper but never seem to remember to put it in my pack. Searching the ground for something that won’t scrape up the sensitive skin of my unmentionables, I find a plump leaf to use instead. As I wipe, I notice something shiny under the leaves beside me. Curiosity may have killed the cat but it won’t stop me from waddling over, pants at my ankles. My balance is odd and I can’t help but fall on top of a pile of leaves and dirt, where the shiny something is sticking out of and that’s when I see it. A diamond ring. A gigantic diamond ring. And it’s still on the ring finger.
I am completely still for about five seconds and then it hits me. The sticky, sour smell of something so disgusting it makes the acid in my stomach rise to my throat. A sick curiosity forces me to move more leaves, revealing the body of a woman.

The Art of Contemplation...

Lately I’ve been sitting on my couch (bed, chair, toilet, whatever…) contemplating my life. Between of course, the kids fighting or whining at me or the dogs wanting to go out or come in. No, I’ve not given the whole “What should I do with my life?” thing a lot of continuous thought because I’m just plain busy. I’m a forty-something year old wife and mother but I like to call myself an Executive Charwoman, which is real life English is a professional servant. Some people would say I don’t need to contemplate my life. I have a life that’s just fine. I have a bang-up great guy for a husband and three kids who, when they aren’t driving me crazy are equally ‘da bomb’. I live in American suburbia; drive my Volvo and lunch with my friends on a regular basis…after I’ve finished my daily workout at the health club, that is. Yes, I have the life. What’s there to contemplate? Ha! I bet all of you Executive Chairwomen reading this are nodding your head, thinking the same thing that I’m thinking. There’s got to be more to life than this.

It’s not that I’m unhappy. Well, maybe for a few days out of the month (the same days I often tell my husband I want a divorce). But the fact of the matter is, I’m happy. Happiness isn’t my issue. Content on the other hand…content poses a bit of a problem. The angel of contentment has been floating around my life like a lightening bug. I try and try to catch her and when I think I’ve got her trapped in my hands, I open them up and she’s not there. She’s simply out of reach. Personally, I think she’s mocking me. Flying around in clear view sticking her tongue out and laughing. “You can’t have me! You can’t have me!” I mean, come on! How rude is that?

So today I’m sitting at Starbucks (something else most Executive Charwomen do) listening to a very attractive woman give me her network marketing spiel, telling me how much she loves her company, how all of her team members are just tres fabulous and that if I’d just give the company a chance I’d find my passion and be rich at the same time! Sign me up! I want to have passion (outside of the bedroom or the bathroom that is)! I want to be rich! Show me the passion and the money and I’ll show you one content Executive Charwoman! But am I really going to find my passion in a nice shiny but light bronzer? I’m thinking no. Needless to say, I didn’t sign up. That’s another $29 I’ve saved my husband today, thank you very much. Never say I can’t save money when I want to.

I’ve been so desperate to figure out my life I even bought a self-help book to help. The Success Principles: How to Get from Where You Are to Where You Want to Be. In the first chapter it tells you to define your life’s purpose. Once you’ve done that you can move on to chapters two, three and finally to the end of the book where you’ve done each and every thing the book’s detailed and in only 64 chapters you’ve reached all of your goals and are living the life you’ve always dreamed! I’ve had the book for over a year now and I still haven’t made it past chapter one. Everyone’s gotta have a life’s purpose. The problem is figuring out what the hell mine is.

I’m still on the path to discovering myself. I thought I’d done that when I had a great career, traveled often, worked out daily and weighed a whopping 107 lbs soaking wet. Life was good. I was past the bar stage, wasn’t really interested in dating and honestly felt I would never get married. With that thought in mind I decided it was time to stop paying someone else for my housing and start paying a larger establishment; Chase Bank. With the purchase of my quaint little townhouse in a small community full of old people (I hate hearing the loud banging of my neighbors stereo so old people worked well…I just had to listen to endless repeats of Matlock if I stayed home during the day), I felt it was time to trade in the old pink, mauve and gray floral furniture so popular in the early 80’s for something more ‘single woman pretending she’s not a spinster’-like. And this is where my life began its warp speed change.

Wouldn’t it be my luck…while walking into the furniture store an incredibly attractive man with the tightest little buns I’ve ever seen walked by me. (Really now, how many good looking men with nice butts are there in the world? Was it fate one just happened to walk right by me at that exact moment? I think so.) We both just about broke our necks looking at each other. The next thing I knew it was four months later, we were engaged and I was living with him and his two very young daughters. Oh, and I was pregnant. We still have that damn townhouse and I still feel sad when I think that I only lived in it for four months!

Fast forward eight years later and fifteen pounds heavier and now I’m out of the professional world and rarely travel to anything but cheerleading competitions in places like Chattanooga, TN and Macon, GA. I still workout every day but the life I have now and the life I had then are vastly different. Things happen on a daily basis that make me look up to the sky and scream, “Are you kidding me? I did not sign up for this!”

And still, I contemplate my life, searching for its purpose. While doing ten loads of laundry and giving the dogs their allergy pills in pieces of cheese.

Letting the Chips Fall Where They May for My Teenage Daughter...

I have found that as I grow older, I become wiser. Most people do. Yes, it's a strange statement to make but I'm not sure I mean it in the way you're probably thinking. For me, it means a lot has left the wishy-washy arena and entered into the reality of black and white. Or, it either is or it isn't. And even, it is what it is. For me, there's very little sitting on the fence anymore.

Part of this is because I'm smarter with age and the other part is because I lack patience but in a good way. Okay, truth be told, I lack patience in the not so good way too but for this conversation, I mean it in a good way.

Sitting on the fence and seeing things outside of the arena of black and white means there are too many feelings involved in whatever it is I'm dealing with. Frankly, unless the feelings are mine, I don't particularly always want to deal with them nor do I always give a crap about them either. Hey, I never said I was sensitive! Seriously though, think of it this way...you're either pro-choice or pro-life. You can't be one until your teenage daughter gets pregnant and then change sides. If you do, you've fooled yourself for all those years thinking you were the other when actually, you really weren't. If you choose neither side it's because you're either waiting for that possibility and 'just in case' something happens, you don't want to be called a hypocrite or stand up for something...emotions, if you ask me.

Lately we've been struggling with one of our daughters. She's a wonderful child and has a heart made of gold. She, however, makes a conscious decision to take the easiest road in every aspect of her life and sadly, most of the time it gets her nowhere except maybe two steps back. She's currently doing poorly in school and instead of owning up to the facts, she finds excuses and reasons and blame and flat out lies. She's lied so much over the past few months I'm pretty sure she doesn't even know she's lying. About everything and anything. She is the queen of telling you what she thinks you want to hear and dealing with the consequences later.

For years we've dealt with issues with this child and this year the light bulb went off over my head. I realized there's nothing wrong with her (yes, she's been to doctors, therapists, on meds, diet controlled, etc.). She simply is that kid that doesn't give a crap. About much of anything. I realized that all of the consequences in the world I can give her will do nothing...have done nothing. Except of course, make the rest of us miserable.

We've spent night after night in emotional meltdown hell for hours on end to no avail. Nothing works. We've taken away privileges and rewarded for good behavior and done everything every book out there says. One Two Three Magic is a farce, by the way but don't get me started on that book. Nothing has worked and it doesn't matter how much we try, she continues to lie to our faces, even when the proof is right there in front of her. She continues to not do what she's supposed to do and finds ways, when caught, to make it someone Else's fault.

I'm tired of dealing with the emotions and the lies and the stress. I'm tired of my family having to accommodate her emotional sensitivities and I'm tired of our lives being disrupted daily because she chooses to do what she does. If you don't do homework, you won't pass a class. If you don't pay your cell phone bill, you don't get your cell phone, etc.

I finally realized that nothing we do makes any difference so everything we do just makes the situation worse. With that light bulb, I've decided to do nothing. I'm not arguing. I'm not encouraging. I'm not babysitting. I'm not suggesting, reminding, supporting, defining, catching, watching, asking, proving. I'm simply letting her make her own decisions and letting the chips fall as they may.

After all, it is what it is. (See how I finally tied that first paragraph or two into this blog?)

I can continue to be frustrated and do all that I've done or I can let natural consequences take their course. It seems to me if anything is going to work, it's not going to with the veil of protection a parent provides when trying to stop their child from failing. Instead, I'm going to let her fail. She has to learn that the world doesn't bend for us, we have to bend for it and the only way she's going to learn that is if we step back and let the world works its magic.

I would much rather my daughter learn this now then when she's 22 and trying our the world on her own for the first time.

Will this work? I don't know. It may not. Odds are it probably won't. It could be very likely that this child is the one who we define success by when she gets a full time job at the grocery store and can afford a small studio apartment. Can she do better? Certainly. She's smart. She's just lazy. Does she want better? Absolutely. She just wants everyone else to do the work for her.

Things are much more pleasant around our house right now. I'm not pushing. She's not pushing back. She's still lying about the few things I do call her out on (because some of them are necessary) but she knows it's all up to her now. She's out of district at her high school and the principal has told her that if she doesn't improve her grades, she's going back to the other school where she knows no one. I've also told her that she has to bring her grades up. I've explained that if she chooses not to, then she will definitely go to the other school (in case the principal caves) because I will not drive and pick her up every day if she is not going to live up to her end of the bargain.

Relationships are a give and take and it's time she starts doing some of the giving and does the right thing.

It's black and white to me. She is either going to do it or she's not. She doesn't have a learning disability. She's got all of the tools she needs to succeed but she chooses not to use them. Had she turned in her homework, she would not be failing one of her classes but she didn't do any of the assignments. She is capable and has to make the decision on her own. If this means she spends an extra year in HS then she'll have to do that but she will also be paying us rent. She gets four years in HS like the other two in our house. If she can't finish in that time frame then she's responsible for supporting herself and contributing to this home.

Life is hard. She'll figure that out eventually. But I can't be wishy-washy about it and continue to be emotional. Instead, I'm on my side of the fence...the side that practices tough love and lets her learn from her mistakes, even those that are going to impact her future long term is she makes them. Nothing else has worked and it now simply is what it is.

I'm Back...but who knows for how long?

Wow. I hadn't realized it's been since September 18th since I've posted on this thing. I guess I've either been really, really busy (probably not) or simply have nothing to say. Which, truth be told, seems unlikely for someone like me.

I do have several things I'd like to touch on so have a seat, grab a cup of coffee and be prepared to be un-wowed.

First and foremost, I would like to tell whomever it is that is associated with my husband and reads my blog to back the ______ off. What I write on this thing is NOT going to impact him starting his new business and being successful. If there is anyone out there that has a family and is the spouse of a person starting a new business in this economy and ISN'T worried, tell me what drugs you're taking because I think you're onto something. Come on buddy, it's NATURAL to be stressed when starting a new business and it's natural for a spouse to be stressed also. But I find it incredibly hard to believe that Carolyn's little old blog that gets, what? Ten readers on a good day, is going to impact the success of his efforts. Plus, if someone is going to read this and then not do business with my husband because of it, so be it. We don't need idiots like that in our lives.

Oh my, I see I took my happy pill today!

Now that I'm done venting about that, let's move on.

I have been focusing on working out and spending time in two, yes, two boot camps for a total of four days a week. I haven't done much of anything and went overboard which put my poor, surgically altered back into an upheaval. It shouted out at me to stop for a few days, which I did. Finally got back after a two day rest and then my arm and shoulder issues decided it was their turn. My arm/shoulder has been bothering me all day today but I decided to go ahead and sand the dining room table anyway. I have decided that yes, I can rest and deal with the pain but if I continue to stop what I'm doing because of it, I'll never get anything done. Nothing a little Aleve and Icy Hot can't cure. Right?

I had my friend S come to visit recently. S has been a good friend of mine, well, actually, more than that, for years. I'm pushing 43 and we've been friends since I was 12. We talk a lot, most of the time on an almost daily basis but talking on the phone and spending time together are two different things. Or they can be in most relationships. In ours, it isn't and honestly, that fascinates me. We fall right back into that friendship thing and it just feels good. It's like 'home', for lack of a better word. I can be me in all of my glory (no, people! I'm not talking naked here!) and there is no fear that she won't love me anyway. It's very rare to have friendships like that and I suspect part of the reason we do is because we've been friends for so long. I cherish that friendship and am thankful for it.

Speaking of friends, I did get to see another friend recently, too. My WT (nickname)lives in VA and I went out at the beginning of October to visit her. How fun! This situation is a bit different because while we went to HS together, we didn't know each other and for us to spend time together, in her house for a few days, was risky. I personally think it went well, though I'm wondering why she hasn't called since. Okay, just kidding! Sometimes there are people that you just hit it off with and my WT is one of them. I'm not sure how that happened but I am glad it did and I'm pretty sure if she lived here, I'd be stalking her on a regular basis to hang out with me. She's probably very lucky she's in VA.


Things that currently make me happy:
1. Peppermint Mochas are back (though I've yet to have one, so so far, so good!)
2. Eastwick. Great show but who knew RR was so tall?
3. Jonathan Jackson is back as Lucky on GH. Love me some JJ.
4. Everyone on Cougar Town but Courtney Cox.
5. I'm getting better sleep.
6. Left over Halloween candy.
7. My son, almost 11, still wanting to snuggle every night.
8. Catching up with old friends on Facebook.
9. Listening to Journey's Greatest Hits and still thinking that Steve Perry is the greatest singer, ever.
10. Having almost finished re-doing the dining room.
11. My dogs feet that smell like Fritos.




There's more to say but I need to organize my thoughts and get into a more humorous
mindset. When I do, I'll write more. Sorry, Pam!

Respect...to or not to?

Back in the days when I grew up, children were taught to respect adults. It wasn't an option to not respect an adult. Maybe I didn't always respect them but I never let on that I didn't. It just wasn't done. I could have been unique to this theory but based on recent conversations, I'm pretty sure I wasn't.

Today kids do not feel the need to show respect to adults. Often times they do just the opposite simply because they can. Any time my children have been disrespectful in my presence, I make sure to call them on it when appropriate. In my book, disrespecting adults is just wrong. (So is putting your elbows on the table while others are eating but that's an entirely different post.) I find it sad that today so many parents have not felt the sense of urgency to teach their children about respect.

Case in point: (I love writing that. It makes me feel official, like I'm the respect expert!) My 17 year old daughter has a boyfriend who my husband and I do not feel is a great choice for her. He's not a bad kid in any way, he's just simply not a good choice for our daughter. They have had some issues, as do most teenagers yet their relationship has survived almost two years. He's always been good at following the rules we've laid down for our daughter. She has a curfew. She needs to let us know where she's going...things most parents should expect from their child. We have always appreciated that respect for our rules and have expressed that to him from time to time.

A few months ago my husband totalled one of our cars, leaving us with two for three people driving. Shortly after that I stopped working full time, my mother got sick and my husband was laid off. The decision to buy another car was put on hold. My husband has since started his own business (www.abs-e.com) and since he's not traveling, we decided the extra expense without any income wasn't a good idea. Our daughter drives to school daily because our county redistricted us and she's now out of district. When necessary, my husband will use the car she's driving. It was purchased as a convenience to us for her use at our discretion. It is not 'her' car. Regardless of what she thinks! She works close to 30 hours a week at Starbucks (see previous post, it's one of my other locations!) and often until 11:30 at night so having this car for her to drive makes our lives much easier.

HOWEVER...because we're down to two cars, with five people in our family, it's a juggling game. Obviously. Our daughter's boyfriend is now in college about 30 minutes away from us and due to college rules, is not allowed to have his car at school. We made an agreement that she could take the car to see him every other weekend (not for the full weekend, just for one of the days and to return home that night) and that the other weekends he would have to come back to our area to see her. If of course, that's what they wanted. It was by no means a requirement on our part that he come back to see her.

We felt the need to make it clear that on the weekends he was here, she would not have access to the car. We're busy on the weekends with sports, errands, etc. and thought it was reasonable to accommodate their desire to see each other twice a month but the other weekends were his responsibility. After all, his car is at his parents house close by.

Apparently they did not feel our decision was the right one. She attempted to talk with us about it and we wouldn't budge so she called her boyfriend to let him know. A few minutes after that call, she came to her father with the phone, saying her boyfriend wanted to talk to him.

Oookkkaaayyy....first mistake.

He felt it was important that we understand his situation. He didn't have a job (quit his job this past winter and never got another one). He is paying for his own college and had to take out loans and is trying to sell his car so he doesn't want to invest anything else into it such as gas and mileage. How nice for him. He felt that we should allow her to use the car on the days that he's here because he believed we told them that before. They must have had something stuck in their ears during that conversation. Needless to say, my husband explained that while he appreciated his situation, it was a mute point. His family has four people, three who drive and three cars. We have five people, three who drive and two cars. Do the math. It would just be easier to have his parents pick him up at the bus station or leave his car for him but we were not going to allow her to do it. Maybe we were standing firm on something that we could have given in to but it would have been an inconvenience for us to plan around their schedule and we felt we were already doing that enough on the other weekends.

This did not go over well with the boyfriend. He got heated, quickly and proceeded to tell my husband to "F**K off." (Second mistake) I've never seen my husband jump out of his seat as quickly as he did. I'm certain if that 18 year old boy were standing in front of him instead of on the phone, he would have been on the floor, unconscious.

Really. Did his parents teach him that was acceptable? Way to win points with the parents, buddy.

I decided to write him an email because I wanted to do right by my daughter and since he would not give my husband any true opportunity to explain our situation (even though we didn't think he had to, he wanted to to be nice), I wanted him to understand. When I wrote him, I signed it "Mrs. Aspenson". He wrote back to "Carolyn". (third mistake) He commented in the email about "Jack" my husband, instead of "Mr. Aspenson". (fourth mistake)

He also continued to discuss why he felt we were wrong and how he is so incredibly independent but he just needs our daughter to help him with this one thing. Would he ask his parents to help? No. They raised him to be independent. Would he ask his friends for a ride? No. He doesn't want to use them that way. (???) Yet he will be the dependent boyfriend who finds it totally acceptable to rely on and use his girlfriend and her parents to help him be independent. (fifth mistake)

I should have stopped after my first email but I admit, I like to have the last word and continued. Apparently so does he. He continued to tell me that we have to earn his respect. (sixth mistake) Here comes a plethora of mistakes so don't lose count. That his parents taught him to be independent and make his own decisions and mistakes and that false consequences (ie: grounding) don't work and that my husband thinks of him as nothing but an inconvenience to his life and just wants what he wants. Here is an actual excerpt from one of his emails:

" Aside from that, Jack only views me as an inconvenience to the family, and there is nothing that I can now or ever could have done to change that. The fact is that, regardless of my tone with him, he will treat me generally the same way. He's impossible to talk to because all that he cares about is proving that he is right. I think that attempting to talk to him at all was the mistake that I made. I'm not trying to insult him or anything like that, these are my observations."

MY TONE WITH HIM? What tone does an 18 year old boy deem acceptable for a conversation with an adult?

Eventually I got so incredibly disgusted with his idiotic comments and sheer blindness to his stupidity I just said, enough. You're done. You are no longer welcome at our house and while I will not forbid my daughter from seeing you (we know how that works), I will no longer support her efforts to do so and she will no longer be allowed to use MY car in any way, shape or form to visit you. If you're so independent, show us that by figuring this out on your own.

It's been a month now and he's seen her once. He is coming home again this weekend and couldn't find a ride from the train or bus and she asked if she could pick him up. I told her no. I told her he created this situation and Mr. Independence there has to figure out a way to make it work.

I've also informed her that there is now a GPS tracking system placed on the car and that if she does decide to go against what we've said, she will be spending the remainder of her senior year at the school to which she is districted and take the bus. She will no longer have use of the car. I do not want to punish her and I explained that. I do, however, what her to understand that his actions have consequences that have impacted our family and her life and I am not going to allow him to continue to do that.

F***k off? Gotcha far, didn't it buddy?

Someone needs to tell his parents what a fine, respectful boy they're raised.

In Search of a New Starbucks!

Remember that show, Cheers? Where everyone knows your name? That's my Starbucks. The people there (the behind the counter ones. I don't really talk to the patrons because I'm really shy, actually!)...oh, sorry. Okay, the people there are great. They talk to their customers. They engage their customers. They are happy and bright and shiny people who make a person want to come back to their location for reasons other than only the coffee. Plus, they make a mean-a** tall non-fat with whip two pump mocha, which is very important in my world. I love going to my Starbucks. Most of the time, I don't even want the mocha. I just want someplace to go and that's where the car takes me. I'm sure if I had a full time job I'd feel differently but for me, it's part of my social interaction for the day. Truthfully, most of the time I don't even finish the mocha, though I do get every single bit of the whip cream I can because that's just yummy. I just simply like the people.

But now it's time to find a new location. Some of the people there are now my FB friends. I like that. It's fun to interact and you learn funny things, like one calls her boyfriend creepy and one thinks those Star Wars of Star Trek events are fun. One has trouble not spilling and one likes Pandora almost as much as I do. One suffers from the same tendinitis issue as I do which makes me feel a special bond. Anyone who suffers my annoying and sometimes painful issue gets nothing but respect from me. So as I said, it's fun to have them as my FB friends.

Who knew there would be one of them actually reading my blog? That's just not right.

How can I go into my Starbucks and order the yummy, wonderful Morning Bun and be told NO! Yes, you read that right. My Starbucks friend told me I COULD NOT have my Morning Bun. She read my blog about my efforts to control my weight and said I couldn't have one. I considered jumping over the counter and stealing one but it's a big counter and I can't really jump that high. Plus, I didn't want to split my shorts.

I just can't mix my blog life with my Starbucks life. They're two separate things and must remain that way. She broke the cycle. She crossed that very small, very fine line between what I want for myself long term and that immediate, spontaneous desire to snarf down a Morning Bun because it's there, looking all yummy and needy. Really, who has the right to cross that line? I certainly would never hold anyone accountable in the Morning Bun department. Hey, they're your buns people, have at them, right? But no, she had to go and be all supportive and motivating and guilt me into no bun. I considered reporting her to the Starbucks police because she was stopping a sale but she did suggest I eat the yogurt.

Yogurt schmogurt. What's that when you can have a Morning Bun?

I mean, have you ever seen a one? It's a flaky, light, yummy, sugary, cinnamon type doughy thing filled with delight and yumminess.


Resisting the urge to have one is like sitting in a movie that's just at the climax yet you have to pee so bad you can barely concentrate. It's an evil, terrible feeling and yogurt just ain't gonna make it better.

Yogurt schmogurt. Plu-eeze.

So I have a plan. Since I'm on this darn 'eating better' thing and my current Starbucks location is so darn supportive, I'm going to switch. There are three within a mile of each other, so it's not like I have to travel far. I'll go to one where Morning Buns call to me and I can give in to my weakness without hearing that little "NO!" from across the counter. I'll spend my mornings happy, bun in hand, joyfully licking my fingers after I've consumed every last, sugary crumb, just slightly freaked out by the scary guy watching me do so. He's not going to interrupt my little bit of Heaven. And I won't talk to these Starbucks people. They won't be my friends. I won't tell them my silly stories. I won't friend them on FB. It will be strictly business. Mocha, Bun. Nothing more. Maybe a Peppermint Mocha for the season but nothing more. I can do it.

And if I can't, I can always go to My Starbucks, get my mocha and conversation and then go to the other location for the morning bun. Probably I'll get the bun first. They don't have many and they sell out quick.

See, if you just think things through, there's always a solution.

Fitness & Nutrition Principles of Carolyn

I've been working on this for some time...the exercise plan, that is. So I'm posting what I'm going to do...let's hope I have the gumption!

Fitness & Nutrition Principles

Fitness Principles

Cardio: 45-60 minutes six days a week (mix it up so as not to do the same type of cardio daily)
Weights: (see exercise plan below)

1.Three days of full body compound exercises supplemented with smaller muscle exercise in superset/cardio interval style with four sets of each exercise.
2.1 minute rest between sets
3.Keep a journal of progress

Nutrition Principles

1.Drink eight 8oz glasses of water daily (not including replenishing of water loss during work out)
2.Eat five small means every 2-3 hours
3.Eliminate sugars except for one snack daily
4.Maximum of 1200 calories daily (approximately 200 calories per meal plus sugar snack)
5.Eliminate soda
6.Eliminate whites (flour, bread, pasta) stick with whole grains only
7.Eat a protein and complex carb at each meal
8.Reduce processed foods as much as possible and increase veggies
9.Take multi-vitamin and calcium twice daily
10.Take Flaxseed or Fish oil daily
11.Keep a journal

 


Monday (approximately 45 minutes)
EXERCISE
Bench Press
Lunges
Crunches
Squats w/Bicep Curls
Military Press
Back Extension
Push Ups w/One Arm Raise
Plank
Dead Lifts


Wednesday (approximately 50 minutes)
EXERCISE
Bent-over Rows
V-Sits
Lunges w/Side Shoulder Raise
Captains Chair
Leg Press
Chest Press
Inner/Outer Thigh
Push Ups
Leg Extension
Oblique Twists

Friday (approximately 50 minutes)
EXERCISE
Cable Row
Walking Lunges
Tricep Pull Downs
Lat Pull Down
Barbell Shoulder Press
Cable Crunch (Abs)
Barbell Bicep Curls
Squats
Bent-Over Low Pulley Side Lateral
Leg Press

Diets DON'T work!

Really. I know this for a fact. Medical, scientific, personal fact. I can verify that every single diet I've tried has not worked. Temporarily? Maybe but I have not once kept the little weight I've lost off and yes, I've done what everyone else complains about...put on even more. So I'm done. D....O...N...E...DONE!

The Oxygen 10 lbs in 21 days? Sure, I'm sure I could lose the weight. Who wouldn't? You are required to eat so much fiber and drink so much water there's no way you can't lose weight. Then again, you'll spend that 21 days on the toilet and I guess you have to ask yourself, is it worth it?

Let's take a quick look at each diet I've tried...Oxygen's as mentioned above. South Beach. Atkins. Weight Watchers. NutriSystem (GROSS!) Suzanne Summers. Eat Clean Diet. Body For Life. The Zone. Flush the Fat. The Biggest Loser. Five Factor. I've even recently ordered the Acai berry and cleanse thing I've seen all over FB. (Yes, I've been THAT desperate!) So far, none (sans the last) have worked. To name a few...

Why? Because one cannot stay on a diet forever. So let's change the way we're looking at this.

Really, all of these (but a few really freaky diet ideas) have the same concepts in mind:
1. Eliminate whites (sugar, bread, flower, pasta, etc.)
2. Drink at least 8 8oz glasses of water daily
3. Eat veggies
4. Eat good fats
5. Eat five to six small means a day consisting of a complex carb and a lean protein, fish or chicken
7. Cut the sweets (goes into #1 but bears mentioning again!)
8. Exercise (weight bearing exercising and cardio exercise) at least 5 times weekly
9. Eliminate processed foods
10. Eliminate soda (diet and regular)

SIMPLE. Right? Should be except you have to have the want. You can't do anything without the want. And after the want, you have to have the gumption. Gumption is what makes a diet work.

Wanting is important. Gumption makes you ACT on the want. I want to lose weight. I want to be in the shape I was a few years ago. I want to feel better physically and mentally. I want to take better care of myself. But I've not had the gumption to follow through on it. I've certainly had the gumption to complain about it but that's about it.

So I've decided, with my personal training background and all of the research I've done on nutrition (I have almost every book ever written on it, trust me!) I am going to design MY OWN weight loss and better health program based on the 9 principles listed above and see how that works for me.

I've got a nutrition and weight training journal and I'm going to use it - including weigh myself and take those nasty photos that no one ever, ever wants anyone to see until they don't look like that anymore (except Jillian Michaels. She got rid of hers entirely. Wuss ass!)

I'm going to start designing the program today and I'm going to post the official Carolyn's Cut the Crap Better Health program on my blog. Then I'm going to track it - from the lies, to the motivations, to the screw ups, on this blog and HOPEFULLY I'll find this to be a successful route. Between us, (don't tell anyone else, please), I'm kind of tired of the lack of success.

Wish me luck!

Up and Running (I hope!)

Things are sort of almost starting to get back to normal for me. I'm not quite sure what that means except that I'm beginning to feel like myself again so I figure that's got to be a good thing, right?

After my mom passed, I couldn't eat much. I lost a few pounds and sent a special thank you to my mom in Heaven. I'd told her that if the ending of a dating relationship could cause me to lose weight, certainly she could take a few pounds of mine with her went she passed. We laughed and smiled because she knew me well and knows how much I identify myself with my appearance.

The weight loss lasted a few days and then suddenly I found I was packing it on, by the minute it seemed. Daily I look up to Heaven and speak softly to my mom, saying things like, "CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING ABOUT THIS? COME ON ALREADY! WTF?" As always, she's probably just ignoring me.

It's medically proven that stress causes weight gain. Death of a parent certainly qualifies as a stress. Sitting on my butt for two months barely doing anything but breathe and eat because of that stress and the weight started piling on. I'm not fat. I'm actually not even 'over weight' (depending on what charts you view as correct) but I am unhappy with myself and unable to fit into my clothes.

I've struggled with my weight all of my life. Born half Italian, (the bottom half of me mostly) and German, I'm short and like to eat. Oh, and stubborn. So fixing this issue has not always been easy for me. Up until recently I really didn't struggle. I could eat whatever I wanted and exercise and then the weight would magically disappear. Then I hit 40 and that stopped. My metabolism took a dive and instead of losing weight, I gain, gain and gain. I workout. I gain. I cut my calories. I gain. I breathe. I gain. It's a vicious cycle of frustration and motivation and I haven't been able to figure out a solution.

I've not been writing down what I eat lately. Truthfully, I think I'm scared to. Maybe I'm better not knowing? Really then I have no right to complain. I have just found myself feeling that I deserve to eat what I want when I want it and I have a sorry addiction to Starbucks mochas. I can find any reason in the book to eat what I want and then I suffer the consequences and berate myself for it later. Is that the way to live?

Women all over the world, most bigger than me, commit to eating healthy and losing weight and THEY DO IT. What's my problem? What happened to my motivation? I was once a certified personal trainer. I KNOW what to do. I just choose not to do it and instead look for reasons outside of reality as to why it happens. I'm really starting to piss me off.

I've succumbed to Atkins, Zone, South Beach...you name it. Except the maple syrup thing. That's even too nasty for me. All of them work for a bit and then I gain the weight (and the dreaded more that everyone else talks about) back. Then I get frustrated and eat to make myself feel better. Obviously that's working for me, huh?

It's a matter of motivation. Where is mine? If someone who eats 5,000 calories a day can commit to eating 2,000 and do it, why can't I commit to eating fewer calories?

I have no more excuses. I've decided to try an eating plan (notice the choice of words here) for 21 days. If this plan, which is not easy and does not include any yummy things like chocolate, mochas or Mexican food, doesn't do what it's supposed to, then it's back to the doctor for a plethora of tests to see if something truly is wrong.

This new eating plan is Oxygen Mag's "Lose 10 lbs in 21 days". It was in their spring issue and I've read a lot of great things about it. So today was my first day.

I had a banana protein smoothie for breakfast. I did NOT have a mocha (though I did go to Starbucks and talk to a friend). For my snack, I had an apple. For lunch I had tuna, 1/2 cup of Jasmine rice and some lovely sauteed zucchini. I usually eat mine friend. I did travel off of the plan a bit - added olive oil to my zucchini (only because I don't know how to cook it so I just sauteed it) and I added 1 T of mayo (reduced fat) to the tuna. Everything can be tweaked, right?

So we'll see where this takes me. On September 30th I will weigh myself and see if I've lost weight. If I have, great. If not, then we'll set that doctors appt. I'm going to work very, very hard at not cheating and doing the right thing FOR ME because I deserve it. It's really just time to get over the excuses.

A Revelation of Sorts...

Ever had one of those light bulbs go off over top of your head? Okay, I'm talking figuratively, not in the literal sense. I've had a few and though most haven't been life-altering, some have certainly come close. Take the most recent one. It hit home more like a brick to the head instead of a light bulb above it but I think that was my higher power trying to make a point.

For years I have said "I'm prepared for my parents to die" and I meant it. I truly believed that and still do. Both mom and dad have never taken great care of themselves and I firmly believe that had it not been for my (step)mother, my father would already be gone. Truth be told, I never thought my mother would beat him to Heaven. Their ill health and lack of desire to improve it have kept me reality based. I knew they would die at some point. Everything dies. Isn't that something we learn at some point in our childhood? So yes, I was completely prepared for my mother's death. What I was not prepared for however, was my mother to be dead. There's the light bulb moment.

Make sense?

My point is that I was ready for her to physically pass. I didn't want her to be in pain and I didn't want her to suffer, even just a little. I know she didn't want to so I accepted her decision not to fight her cancer (it wouldn't have mattered anyway)and did what I could to keep her comfortable in her last months. I was with her as she literally took her last breath and I knew it was her last. I could feel it in my bones.

Looking back, all of that was the easy part. The hard part is the now. The time after the dying. The dead part. I was not and am still not prepared for my mother to be dead.

I don't know exactly what I was thinking through her last few months because I know I didn't want her to die and I did think about what it would be like when she was gone but the problem with that is you can't really know. You think you know but you don't. So now I spend my days doing whatever it is I have to do with this huge monkey on my back. My mom is dead. Gone. Forever. And while I believe in Heaven and I feel, in my heart of hearts that I will see her again, I struggle with the "what if?" of it all. I was not prepared for her to be dead.

I wasn't prepared for the empty, lonely feeling one has when they go to pick up the phone to call their mom and realize they can't. I wasn't prepared for packing up her clothes for Goodwill and not being able to smell her because I'm so damn anal retentive and washed her clothes all of the time. I wasn't prepared to be fine one minute and a crumbled, emotional wreck the next.

I wasn't prepared for most everyone to not understand. I wasn't prepared for my husband to have the need to fix things and make me instantly better. Though truthfully, I should have expected that. I wasn't prepared to have to talk about this on other people's terms because honestly, death is ugly and people don't really want to know how you're feeling. They ask to feel good about themselves but they don't want the truth. As Jack Nicholas says, "You can't handle the truth". It's true. Unless you have lost a parent or someone at that level of closeness to you, you cannot possible understand. Sure, you think you can but you can't. Someday you will but don't pretend because us grievers, we can see through it. We're in the know and you simply aren't. Thanks for trying but a simple, "I'm sorry" is much better than anything else you can say.

I wasn't prepared for the realization that I will spend probably more than half of my life without my mom. Today I spoke to a friend whose mother died last year. She's 60 years old and said, "I know I should feel lucky that I had my mom for 60 years but I don't. It wasn't enough time." You can never have enough time with the people you love. I suspect we'll all feel cheated each time someone we love dies. It's the way our hearts work, I guess.

I've spent the last month and a half not interested in a whole lot of anything. For several years I used a lot of emotional and physical energy to care for my mom and now I have this huge empty space and honestly, I don't know what the hell to do with it. Most everything that used to be important to me, isn't now. My 60 year old friend told me today it will be again and that it just takes time. She said to cut myself some slack but I've never been good at that.

I know my mother wouldn't want me to feel this way but really, when have I truly done what my mom wanted? Why change now, you know? I don't want to shock her or anything! Personally, I don't want to feel this way either and have been smacking myself in the head trying to figure out how to move forward but I'm not sure it's something I can make happen. I think it's a process and I have to work through it. I do know that I have to force myself to do things, like exercise and stop eating everything I see. I feel better when I exercise and I berate myself for not eating properly so having these things not going how they should just makes things harder. I keep telling myself I'll work on them, tomorrow. Yet tomorrow comes and I sit and try to figure out who I am now that I'm Carolyn-without-a-mom. I don't like it and I'm really sick of feeling this way. Tomorrow I will start to do right by myself. Or so I say.

I have learned that while 'death' itself is a process and an experience, in this case, it's not mine, it's my mom's. She died. Her death is about her and not about what it has done or is doing to me. She owns it and she's gone from this place to another and I'm pretty sure she's all right with that. I'm not angry and I'm not bitter. I haven't felt the resentment some feel and I haven't bargained for her to 'return' or to feel better. Again, it would require me to give a rats butt and I just don't much care about anything. But while her dying is about her, her being dead is about me and that is something I have to find a way to accept. Though accept might not be the right word. I accept that she is dead. Hard not to accept the obvious, right? I just have to learn to live with the obvious. It's a different life for me and as with anything new, I'm still trying to work my way through it.

When I get to where ever it is I'm supposed to get, if I do, I'll let you know.

A Poem About Gaining Weight

I've been gaining weight. That's what happens when you eat large amounts of food and don't exercise. I actually enjoy exercising but since my mom passed, I just haven't felt like doing any of the things that were important to me before. Except eating, of course. Eating is more important to me than it used to be.

The good news is that I've figured out what I'm doing and I've not gained THAT much weight that I can't fix the problem. The bad news is that I still just don't give a crap enough to do what I need to do.

See my problem?

I've thought about major full-body lipo but that's quite costly and with my husband starting a new business, probably not the smartest decision. I've prayed for thin thighs and then I gained four pounds. Really? I'm sure there's a message in there somewhere but I fail to see it right now.

I've given myself until Monday. On Monday if my lazy butt isn't back at the gym on a regular basis and if my mouth isn't closed past 1400 calories (yes, that number is correct, keep your panties on) then I'm going to duct tape it shut and lock myself in my gym overnight.

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

In light of my weight gain, I searched online for weight gain poems. I found one I enjoyed by Barbara Warnock. I'm copying it here because it's a joy to read.

Hopefully Monday you'll read a post about my wonderful work out and how sore I am.

Here's Barbara's poem.


"I'll start a new one Monday", we've heard it all before,
but if I don't really start one soon I won't make it through the door.

I start with good intentions of that I can't deny,
I'm getting fatter by the hour, I'll really have to try.

So no more chips or chocolate, no more 'pigging out'
I'll be very careful of what I eat, of that there'll be no doubt.

I'll watch my waist get tiny, I'll watch my figure thin,
Oh what a joy it's going to be to at last be nice and slim.

I can see me walking down the street in dress size number ten,
(from Carolyn: NOOOO!!! 4!)
I just have to resist and resist I will when I get a hungry yen.

With exercise in every form and regular daily jogs,
you'll see me lazing by the pool in my top designer togs.

So come join me all you tubbies, come join with me at last,
I'll need all the help that I can get to get me through this fast.

If you see me eating lollies or sneaking greasy fries,
then smack my hand and click your tongue, remind me of my size.

I'm sure that I can make it, I just need a little space
before Monday comes around again, till then I'll "stuff my face"!

Health Insurance Doesn't Cover Stupid

Just one of those silly FB and email things...


***********FOODOLOGY***************

What is your salad dressing of choice?
Balsamic Vinegarette

What is your favorite sit-down restaurant?
Cinco

What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?
Mexican

What is your favorite pizza toppings?
Green pepper, black olives, crumbled sausage, tomatoes, spinach

What do you like to put on your toast?
Smuckers Mixed Fruit Jelly which they only sell in those little packets anymore and that really yanks my chain.

***********TECHNOLOGY***************

How many televisions are in your house?
Currently hooked up to cable: 4
Currently in use for VCR only: 1
Currently in the house but not in use though still working: 2

What color is your cellphone?
Black with a blue case

Do you have an iPod?
Yes, an I-touch. Best invention ever.


***************BIOLOGY******************

Are you right-handed or left-handed?
Left

Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
a baby, scar tissue, cysts

What is the last heavy item you lifted?
bags of my mother's clothes

Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
Briefly when my dog dragged me out of the vet and I hit a pole with my not so hard head.

************BULLOLOGY**************

If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
No.

If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
Foxy Roxy.

Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
No. The hospital bill would be more expensive and health insurance doesn't cover stupid.

**************FAVORITOLOGY****************

Season?
Fall

Holiday?
Doesn't really matter

Day of the week?
Monday when the kids go back to school

Month?
Who cares.


***********CURRENTOLOGY*****************

Missing someone?
Yes, many people like my parents in Indy but mostly my mom who I won't see again for a very long time.

Mood?
Varies often due to increasing PMS

What are you listening to?
The ceiling fan

Current worry?
If my husband's company will ever make money and if we can survive without it not making money for much longer.
***************RANDOMOLOGY*****************

First place you went this morning?
Downstairs to steam clean dog puke.

What's the last movie you saw?
The Ugly Truth

***************OTHER-OLOGY*****************

How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
None. I don't wear them. I hate having something between my toes. Ew.

Last time you had a run-in with the cops?
We got pulled over coming back from my mom's memorial service and when he asked my husband where we were coming back from and we told him, he said, "Drive safely". Nice cop.

Last person you talked to?
My daughter Morgan who is making me nutty right now.

Last person you hugged?
My husband before he went to dinner at a place I like but he didn't ask me to go. Bastard. :)

Do you always answer your phone?
No, usually never.

It's four in the morning and you get a text message, who is it?
Someone drunk texting the wrong number!

If you could change your eye color what would it be?
I like my eye color. It's a pretty blue.

Do you own a digital camera?
Two

Have you ever had a pet fish?
Several but my husband boiled the last few on accident.

Favorite Christmas song(s)?
Yikes. I hate Christmas songs.

What's on your wish list for your birthday?
Thin thighs.

Can you do push ups?
Yup but I don't like to.

Can you do the splits?
I haven't in some time but I could again, I'm sure. Though I don't know if I could GET UP from them.

Does the future make you more nervous or excited?
excited and nervous

Do you have any saved texts?
I did but not on this phone. I saved the ones where my husband says he loves me without me saying it first. Sad, I know.

Have you ever been in a car accident?
Yes.

Do you have an accent?
Of course, to foreigners I do.

What is the last movie to make you cry?
Marley & Me.

Plans tonight?
Hide from everyone.

Have you ever felt like you hit rock bottom?
Repeatedly based on different circumstances.

Name 3 things you bought yesterday?
Coffee, a morning bun, a water.

Have you ever been given roses?
Yes.

Met someone who changed your life?
Yes, my husband.

What song represents you?
Right Now by Van Halen. Or at least I'd like it ot.

Name two people who might complete this?
No one. No one reads my blog.

Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?
Yes, to spend the last year of my mom's life with her doing things differently.

Have you ever dated someone longer than a year?
Several people.

Do you have any tattoos/piercings?
5 ear piercings, 1 belly button piercing and 1 tattoo.

Does anyone love you?
I'd like to think they do.

Would you be a pirate?
No.

What songs do you sing in the shower?
Journey or BoDeans.

Ever had someone sing to you?
Yes.

When did you last cry?
Today, while packing up my mother's things.

Do you like to cuddle?
Sometimes.

Have you held hands with anyone today?
No.

Who was the last person you took a picture of?
My husband.

Are most of the friends in your life new or old?
Both.

Do you like pulpy orange juice?
Yes

What is something your friends make fun of you for?
EVERY FREAKING THING THEY CAN THINK OF!

Dead is Dead

I have experienced death up close, personally. Not personally in the sense of some white light beckoning me or my spirit floating above my body only to be shocked back via some electric current. I’ve experienced death as a bystander. In reality, the bystander side seems like it’s probably worse. We’re left here to deal with death and its ugliness.

I literally watched my mother die. I curled my body into hers as she lay dying and watched her breathing go from rapid and labored to slow and infrequent and then just stop. People have expressed sadness at not being there when a loved one passed but I was there and there was nothing beautiful or peaceful about it. She didn’t look at peace. She didn’t look asleep. She just looked dead. And I felt dead. If I knew...if I felt she was ‘there’ before it happened...if I felt maybe she could hear what my brother and I were saying to her I might feel some sense of relief but I think she was gone already. Her body focused solely on her most important organs, not interested in anything other than basic survival and when that became too much, she just stopped being. It didn’t provide me with any consolation prize...any relief. Dead is dead.

I have always believed in an afterlife and I still do. I believe there is a God and my God has a Son who died for me and everyone else who has accepted him into their lives. This isn’t a question for me. It just is. Maybe I don’t always get what it means but it’s sort of like taxes. It is what it is and I accept it. I have also always believed that those who have died can somehow still communicate, be near or keep tabs on their loved ones still here. I’ve had experiences that have led me to believe this to be true. I never questioned it. Again, it’s one of those things that just is.

My mother and I often talked of her passing. I could talk easily of it because it wasn’t real. Once it became real, just thinking the words choked me up so saying them was impossible. But we had an agreement. She promised she would let me know she’s okay and I felt it was a sure thing, that once she was gone she’d find a way uniquely her own, to tell me she made it, was safe, happy, healthy or whatever and I’d know. I’d know she was where she was supposed to be.

It’s been a month now and I’m still waiting. I don’t question where she is. Her heart was golden and I believe she deserves Heaven and its glory and I’m sure she’s there living it up with those she loves who left before her. That isn’t my concern. What’s so upsetting to me is that I haven’t had my sign. Yes, shortly after she died I saw a lovely heart cloud pass over me but really, a cloud can be shaped like anything and that just wasn’t obvious enough for me. I was hoping for something more substantial. Something personal and something uniquely mom. I thought I’d dream of her. Nada. I got nothing. No dreams. No cold air on the back of my neck. No doors opening or pictures moving. No scent of her. Nothing. Dead is dead.

My whole belief system is shaken and stirred. What if she can’t contact me? What if that concept is just a pile of crap thrown upon us grievers to make us feel better? I’m beginning to wonder. Let’s face the facts. If you are a Christian and believe in Heaven and that it is truly what we’re taught, then truthfully, why would anyone in their right minds want to come back and even peek into the reality of earth? Seriously. Yes, they care for us and they love us but from what I understand once they’re gone they don’t have any care for earthly matters. And I’m starting to think that includes us. Not that we’re not still loved but that they see things differently and understand what we cannot possibly understand so they move on and know that eventually we will too, or not.

I hate that.

For me that means my mother is gone. She’s not ‘still with me’. She’s not ‘watching over me’. She’s just gone. Dead is dead. This theory is beginning to take shape in my heart because I don’t feel her. I don’t feel her around me. I don’t feel her inside me. I don’t feel like she’s still here, in my heart. I just feel like she’s dead. I feel this empty space deep within my soul and there’s no spirit floating around waiting for the right time to enter and fill me with peace.

Some people say I’m too involved in my grief to feel her. That I will, once I’m adjusted. Really? Listen people, the thing about death that really sucks is that life goes on. Every day happens whether you want it to or not. Whether I feel like getting up and facing the day, it’s there and I can’t just sit and dwell on the fact that my mother is gone. It is what it is and while I’m sad and I miss her, I’m really just pissed off. And not at the fact that she died. I’m pissed off because I thought I’d still feel her...that she’d ‘always be with me’ even though she was gone. I don’t. Dead is dead.

Maybe eventually I’ll feel differently about it. Maybe I’m in the middle of some step of the grieving process and tomorrow I’ll progress to the next step. Who knows? I’m not reading up on it. I don’t want to plan out my grieving. It is what it is and I just have to work with what I’ve got which sadly, right now, is nothing.

I know I’ll work through this and for the most part, I’ve come to accept the fact that my mother died and isn’t here. I still talk to her because on the off chance that she can hear me, I don’t want the backlash when I see her again because I didn’t talk to her. Heaven may be a wonderful place but God has no power over a pissed off mother. That’s one thing I’m sure of.