Here ya go, Tricia!

Oh, my. It has been a long time since I blogged. I've been a bit on the preoccupied side.
I got a new job. Full time. I love it. I'm still at the school with my kids, just not doing the Instructional Aide thing or the Yard Duty (yippee! I can't say I miss the outdoor elements or the drama...although I do miss the kids...). I am now in the office, doing accounts receivable, lunch program, learning accounts payable and apparently going to be learning the ordering process soon. I love being inside, I like getting to dress like a girl, and I like the challenge and learning new things. I feel so lucky and blessed that I was granted this opportunity.
October 10 was my 15th wedding anniversary...Before anyone gets all gushy wondering what romantic weekend getaway we went on...My husband is in Idaho and has been since October 7. He left in the wee hours of the morning 6 days ago to hunt for our 15th wedding anniversary.
I have never been, nor ever will be interested in roughing it camping or in hunting, anything. I am a girl. I like to use flush toilets. I don't particularly like the mountains, I'm more of a coastal kind of California girl. I don't mind that he has interests outside of me. I rather like it. I don't want to have to say excuse me when I turn around because he is attached to my hip. I like having a bit of independence...
The thing that has been instigating my mid-life crisis, is that I realized that my life is much easier when I don't have him around. He has told me for the whole 15 years that we've been married that he wants me to be OK with him going and doing the things he likes and he doesn't want me to make him feel guilty for leaving us behind. I have gotten there. In the last 7 years or so, I have gotten to the point where I really don't care if he is here or if he isn't. I have been happy when he has chosen us, and fine with him choosing his interests. It seemed like a nice place to be emotionally, I wasn't feeling all left behind and put off. I just kind of let him live his life his way and he could be involved with the kids and me if he chose.
A month ago I realized that I prefer him being gone. It is much easier for me to take care of business without him to take my time. I have a lot to do, and I have done it all on my own for the last 15 years. I have had little to no help raising the kids. I don't want to start a "Let's hate Erich" club and whine about all of the ways he is a butthead. I just realized that I have settled for less than I deserve. I deserve to be higher on someone's priority list than a close 3rd to shooting. I deserve to be #1 and I deserve to have the person I am with understand that my birthday, Mother's Day, Christmas and our wedding anniversary are important not to be forgotten or taken lightly dates. I deserve to be with a man who is not worried about how things look, as long as he's happy with me and with our children. Looks are deceiving.
He learned the art of game playing with some masters. His parents are all about how things look. As long as it looks pretty on the outside with a nice little bow then that means everything inside is beautiful, right? I have become disenchanted with that way of thinking. I choose not to play that game anymore. I don't have to make everything look great on the outside, I can be a real person and let people into my real world.
I am reconsidering my life...I'm not considering abandoning my children, husband and life and running off to the big city to pursue my acting dream (I really don't have one), I am just realizing that marrying young, insecure as I was, forced me to settle for way less than I ever should have.
I am almost 40 (it's a mere 4 years away, the blink of an eye), and I don't want to look back on my life through angry, bitter eyes when I am 60. I want to look back and know that I was loved beyond measure. Not just loved by my children, but also the father of my children.
I read somewhere that the best gift a father can give to his children is to love their mother with all of his heart. I think of that quote often, and realize that my children have not seen their father love me with all of his heart. They have watched him choose racing, hunting, shooting, fishing, friends, his dad, so many other things first. They have waved good bye to him as he leaves on yet another vacation spent with friends or his dad and brother. They laugh at the stories he shares about his vacation, but share no memories with him. It makes me sad for them. It makes me sad for me. It used to make me sad for him, but the scary thing is that I don't feel sad for him anymore.
Things have to change. This is the turning point. I'm not saying I want him to live in my back pocket and sneeze when I tell him to. I just want some semblance of a family. You know, families that go on picnics, or out to dinner, or on family vacations. A real honest to goodness family. I don't know if he is willing to invest himself in that. And, how I am feeling right now, I don't know if I really want him to.
It's a tough position I am in. I don't want my children to be children of divorce. But, I also don't want them to think that what has been our life is OK. I want them to see (when they're adults of course) the sacrifices emotionally, financially, etc that parents make for their children. I want them to experience having a dad. Not just a man who comes home and sits in his chair, or comes home to pack up for his next great adventure without them. They and I deserve so much more.
Ugh. This post is kind of depressing, but, honestly, it really bares part of my soul. So, Friends, go easy on me.

Pour some sugar on me!

OH MY GOSH! I got to go to a Def Leppard concert!!!! It was so much fun! A friend won tickets and had extras and gave them to me and another friend so we could go! We had so much fun! Not only did we see Def Leppard, but we saw Foreigner and Styx too! OH MY GOSH! I think I screamed that so many times Friday night. What a blast.
I sang every Foreigner song, didn't know too many Styx songs, and scream/sang every Def Leppard song. I just can't say it enough times, it was so fun.
Then, the weekend (is there a such thing?) began. My 7 year old had a soccer game and pictures at 10 am. Then, my daughter wanted to go to the mall. Then, I had to take her to dance class, and then meet her downtown as she was dancing with the Pub Scouts. Then, off to the bowling alley, I had promised my 7 year old we'd bowl...he really enjoys it!
Then Sunday, was cleaning the house and trying to make a dent in the laundry.
Did I mention that I think I began having a mid life crisis (at 36...oh I mean 29?). I think I'll save that for another post, when I've thought through the many things floating around in my head.
Suffice it to say, the highlight of my weekend was the concert. I wish I could go again this weekend. No, I think that my friend and I will go Xtreme bowling...I'll let you know.

Oh! What a Beautiful Day!

Wednesday, the 5th, was my birthday. I am 29 (for the 7th time!). I had the most amazing day.
I woke up at 5:30 as I do every morning, and shuffled to the computer to check my email, and catch up on any overnight news. Really, it's how I give myself an extra 10 to 15 minutes to wake up. Hanging on my computer was a sign, it said, "Good Morning, Sunshine! Are you ready to go hunting?" Then I turned it over and it directed me to the refrigerator. I opened the refrigerator, and there is another card with instructions to look in the pantry. I looked there and found the instructions leading me to the oven. There I found a beautiful card that my daughter made for me. She is a budding photographer, and had taken a picture of a telephone shaped bronze music box that we inherited from my husband's grandmother. I can't describe the beauty of the picture. Inside was the gift of a pedicure given by my daughter. I cried. Happy, touched tears.
My boys woke up and told me happy birthday. My One Tru Love FORGOT. We went to school, I dropped the boys off and decided to treat myself to a decaf frappucinno and a cinnamon roll. I got back to school, my son C's class was lined up outside of his classroom, I didn't pay much attention, and as I walked past them, they broke out in song. Happy Birthday...of course. It really made me smile. As I made my way to the office, every student and staff member wished me a happy birthday. I figured my boys had been busy. NO. The principal announced at flag salute to give me a hug and wish me happy birthday.
I got pretty much 430 hugs. I loved it. It was great. My good friend Trish brought me a decaf iced mocha (it was so delightful). A 6th grader organized the K-2nd graders lunch to sing to me. The middle schoolers sang to me. It was so moving. I really felt loved and happy all day.
My One Tru Love was reminded that it was my birthday, and he made a rush purchase at a day spa for a massage for me. Which I am completely excited about. All in all it really was such a wonderful day.
My "adopted son" (my son T's best friend who calls me mom) got me a cute little teddy bear holding a heart saying Love is Mom and the sweetest card. I was truly spoiled like I've never been spoiled before.
As a mom, T.A. and yard duty supervisor (I know, such a fancy title), it's easy to feel unappreciated and unnoticed. September 5th really showed me that I am appreciated, loved and that I have touched the lives of the kids I work with everyday.
I have to say that I woke up that morning, feeling pretty low. Just one of those mornings, I drug myself out of bed, tired, and just not anticipating a day of work, and I was rejuvenated over and over. Truly, what a beautiful day!

Did I Mention...

that it is hellishly hot and miserable here! I am so irritable and cranky and sick of the heat that I can't even find words.
The second week of school went off OK. I guess. My daughter (her third week) ended up coming home sick today. She was running a low grade temp this morning, tried to convince her to stay home, but no...so she called me at lunch and was ready to come home. She has been in bed...literally, since she got home. I have taken her water and checked on her, but mostly she has been laying in bed feeling miserable. That's what we get for living in the middle of the Almond capitol of the world! We have almond orchards surrounding our house, so the clouds of dust (it's harvest time) are crazy. So, she developed a bit of a sinus infection, I believe. Then, there's C who got dehydrated and was trying to get a UTI. Love the little cuties. They stress me to the moon, though.
I have been asked to teach a crochet class to the junior high students at our school. Which I readily agreed to, but, I didn't know I would have to speak at a rally in front of ALL of the middle schoolers. AAAAGH! The only thing I hate more than climbing really high poles and jumping off, is talking in front of pretty much any group bigger than 10 to 15 people (preferrably sitting at a table with coffee or an adult beverage). It pretty much bit the big one. But, I survived and I know at least one person will sign up for my class (thank you, Hannah).
At the moment I am sweltering and wishing for spring or fall or any weather than doesn't involve triple digit temperatures. I took the kids to La Comida for dinner, gotta love any place you can feed 3 teenagers, a 7 year old and an adult for $25. We have made it a weekly institution, I just don't always feel like cooking, go figure, it's only like 185 million degrees outside, with like an absurd amount of humidity going on, and we have a swamp cooler, so...I'm whining. Did I mention that I'm irritable and cranky too? To add insult to injury, I will be 36 soon, ugh. On that note...did I mention that I'm irritable and cranky?

Random

I took my boys up to the ropes course that I accomplished. I was hoping to impress them with the bravery I exhibited. My 10 year old was completely unimpressed. He thought it would be fun and that it wasn't that high. Humph. My 7 year old was just ready to leave because there were "too many sticks", and the 13 year old just had to go to the bathroom. That is my life.
I am totally excited about showing the kids something, and my daughter totally blows me off, she needed to wash her hair or something, and the boys just don't follow through with my dreamy expectations. Such is life. They were much more impressed with the Oreo McFlurrys and the stop at a park. All in all, I did have a nice day with my boys.
I went on a date with my two other boys, I know scandalous, to the races. I love to spend time with them, especially now when they aren't completely embarrassed to be seen with me. They really take care of me.
My daughter wants to take me to A Taste of Chico for my birthday. I think it's sweet, but I am wondering what friends are going to be tagging along. I suggested the Chico State Rock Climbing wall. I think I'm addicted to that darn harness thing from the ropes course.
Actually, I am so amazed at what I was able to push myself to do, even now two and a half weeks later. I can't say I enjoyed the fear. Our music teacher at school says, "Which one is my left?" just about every time he sees me. I must explain...when I was climbing on the dinner plate on top of a telephone pole, the instructor guy told me to lift my left foot. I was so incredibly freaked out that I couldn't remember my left from my right. So I yelled out, "Which one is my left?" I know, I kind of made myself sound brave in my last post, that must have been the adrenaline...really I was terrified and couldn't remember which was my right or left. I also said bad words a few times, shh.
I must say that not only do I feel stronger from this experience, but I feel closer to my fellow coworkers who attempted the stunts and cheered us on. I think I'm going to have to stop talking about it though.
Well, the boys have homework and I must resume my mommy duties.

I am amazing!

I can't believe, still, that I did it!
Today, I attended a ropes course with my co workers. I work for a school, and our principal signed us up for a ropes course for team building. I was way less than thrilled at the prospect of climbing ladders and falling and all that stuff. I went with much trepidation.
I DID IT!!!!! Me, the person who has to constantly overcome fear. The one that always worries more than anyone else about the impossible possibilities. I climbed a tree with another person, stood on a cable leaning forward with my hands on his shoulders and his hands on mine, and we took a step. It was the most horrifying thing I have ever done in my life. I did it though. Then we were billeted down.
The second "station" was we had to climb a pole and stand on a dinner plate sized disc at the top of the pole. I had to turn around, then JUMP off reaching for a trapeze. I DID IT!!!! It was more frightening than anything I could imagine, (up until today and the group jump thing we did).
I truly conquered my fears. I didn't wimp out and not do it, because I was afraid. I cowboyed up, so to speak, and I did it! I still can't believe that I stood on top of a telephone pole with nothing underneath me, my life in my four co workers hands as they billeted me down. I can't even put into words the feelings that are still here, two and a half hours later. I think I need to see the pictures to believe that I really did it. It just feels so surreal. I was able to overcome fear. I won. The fear did not win. I did!
I am AMAZING!

He's 13

Thirteen years ago right now I was looking down into the very red face of my newborn son. I can't believe that thirteen years have passed. I can't believe that he is on the cusp of manhood. I can't believe that it's only been 13 years...
August 4, 1994, I was five days past my due date, and I had an adorable little 19 month old girl. I woke up on the fourth with a ton of things to get done. I needed to clean house and go grocery shopping, I needed to get the laundry done. So much to do.
That evening, as I sat trying to work out in my mind all that I needed to get done I went into a sort of panic. I realized that if I went into labor in the middle of the night, I needed someone to call to come watch my 19 month old baby. My One Tru Love was less than helpful. He got mad at me for panicking and left me. I was having regular yet very far apart contractions, and my instinct was telling me that our baby was coming. In his defense, he was 23 and getting ready to become the father of two.
I couldn't sleep that night in our bed. So, I slept on the couch. I woke up at 3:45 with cramps that wouldn't go away. I timed my cramps, and they were like 3 minutes apart. This was my first labor as my daughter had been delivered by planned C section. I woke up My One Tru Love, and he asked me how far apart my contractions were, I didn't want to freak him out, so I lied. I told him they were about 5 minutes apart. He told me to call his mom, then asked me to make him some coffee, because he wanted to take a shower. I did exactly as I was told, I even brought him two cups of coffee in the shower before his mom got to our house. By this time, I knew that the baby was coming and coming today.
We drove to the hospital, and he thought it would be fun to run all of the red lights on the Esplanade. We got to the hospital and my contractions weren't easing up and were getting closer and closer and closer. I couldn't walk to the Maternity ward, they were too close together.
We got set up in the room and as I laid on the bed I felt an audible pop. My water broke! We had arrived at the hospital at about 4:45 am. I was in hard labor from when my water broke until the wee boy was born at 9:20 am.
At 9 am I felt the urge to push. I was told to wait, then my baby began to decel. His heart rate was going way too low for way too long. My doctor ran in, he started talking really fast and using words like "Stat" which I knew were four letter words. I was scared. My One Tru Love was scared. I had on an oxygen mask and was rolled to my right side, then my left side, then back to my right side, all the while being prodded and poked and told not to push. I was terrified. They finally let me push, and things got worse, he called for the vaccuum extractor, I don't remember or have blocked out all the trauma to my nether regions at this point. All I remember is that my little baby's body was pulled from my body, blue. No reaction to light, no crying, the doctor turned and passed him off to the nurse, and My One Tru Love was pushed behind the bed and not allowed near our new son. Tubes were stuck down his throat and they suctioned stuff out (there was meconium in the water). I started to bleed. They took out the baby and My One Tru Love followed. They kept telling me that I had a beautiful son, and that he was doing much better now, (his first APGAR was 1, second one was 5). I had completely disassociated myself from all that was happening. I got a shot of something to stop the bleeding, the placenta wouldn't detach, and I hadn't seen my baby yet.
Finally, they laid my perfect little boy in my arms. He had all the parts he needed, 10 fingers, 10 toes, a perfect 7 lb, 11 oz, baby boy. He had a really bad bruise on his head from the extraction, but, other than that, he was doing great. He latched on and nursed like a champ. He was amazing.
Thirteen years ago right this moment (8:30pm) my husband's grandma called me to tell me congratulations, her remark when I answered the phone, "I knew E would be too tired from all of the excitement of the new baby so I didn't want to disturb him, so I called you." She was so funny. I was the one who worked so hard to have the baby, but poor E might be tired. Hmm.
T today is a healthy, vibrant, loving boy, who I really can't believe I ever held in my arms and nursed at my breast.