Category Archives: Hopeless Romantic

Valentine’s Day and Loving People

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Welp, another year has passed and its here again. Valentine’s Day. You know, the day where social media is overwhelmed with either singletons whining about how its a meaningless hallmark holiday or pictures of roses, chocolate or proclamations of love.

I used to be in the anti-valentine’s day club. You know, crazy freshly divorced lady. My biggest argument was that you shouldn’t need a single day to make you want to do things for significant other but should all the time.

I still believe that, but I guess you could say that the thought process is expanding.  Now, at 21 + 5 and on my 2nd Valentine’s Day with not-my-ex-husband, I’m adding to my old ideas.

Yes, you should be wonderful to your significant other every day.  You should. You shouldn’t need a reason to show your love. However, if you’re in a relationship where your partner treats you like you’re the got-damned Queen (or King) why is it so wrong to use a hallmark holiday to go one more step? Why not use it as an excuse to do something nice?

Its not. Simple as that. I think that by now we all know it’s a hallmark holiday but all of us know that it also sucks to be single on a holiday that seems to be aimed solely at couples. People who indulge in Valentine’s Day dont have horrible relationships where their partner is horrible to them on the other 364 days of the year. They are in a relationship where thier partner was thoughtful enough to indulge in a silly holiday. 

More importantly. Its not about just couples, at least not to me. Yes, the boyfriend and I celebrated and I got a sappy card and present. However I also spoiled my daughter with candy and a stuffed animal. We made Valentine’s Day cards for her grandparents and I took time to appreciate those who I love, those who love me.

So I guess I’m done being a hater. Vday is okay in my book, maybe its because Im in a long-term relationship.  Maybe its because I’m getting older. But maybe instead of focusing on who we dont have in our lives, we should focus on who we do.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

I’m still here and so are you.

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If there is nothing else I’ve learned in this relationship I’m in, in this life I’ve lived, it’s to appreciate the small things.  Life is a soul sucking cunt bag, and will deal out some low ass blows.  Sometimes life is shitty, as most of you know my history, and sometimes you just get so run down you don’t notice the little “happy things” anymore.

On the flipside.  Sometimes life evens out.  The bad things go away, life gets a bandaid and you start to heal.  You start to settle into the new direction life is taking.  You start to be happy.  Then.  Then, you stop noticing the “happy things”.  You start getting annoyed at simple things you never worried about before.  There’s nothing exploding in your world, so there’s that thing your kid does, that tone the boyfriend takes.  You spend time getting annoyed with that and forget.

I hate to include this in my writing, but it’s what got me thinking in the first place.  A good friend of mine is currently fighting with his girlfriend.  The whole fight was put on facebook to see, and it rolled around in the back of my brain today.  This guy’s been a long time friend of mine, he’s a great guy and it leave my head that he’s having problems.  So it stuck with me.

Noodle, Ry and I packed up and ran errands earlier today.  Just simple stuff, stopped at the Sprint store, his haircut, and the craft store for me.  It was honestly a good day, we had made a huge breakfast and hung out all morning, so a trip to the craft store made my day.  While we were there I became aggravated at all of the people, I’m not a crowd person surprisingly, and Ry picked that inopportune time to chime in with questions.  I snapped a bit, became more aggravated and walked away to calm down.

As I browsed through glitter, beads and wire, I remembered my friend.  I remembered how upset him and his lady must be feeling.  I remembered some of our bad fights.  I thought about how petty my little outburst was.  As I picked through the glass beads, scoffing at the prices, I realized how good we do have it.  I realized that I had been taking things for granted again, just because things weren’t hectic.

So on the way home, I apologized and we talked about the small things, the “happy things” we take for granted.  The tiff was over, the fight avoided, and things are the same, but better.  Sometimes it takes an outside look, a reminder, and some ass-kicking annoyance to realize how good things are.  How lucky we can be.

 

The things I hate about you… and by you I mean Crohns.

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I feel a bit blah today.  I know why too, and I hate it.  Just like I did last time.  Prednisone.  The oh so wonderful steroid that helps so many of us Crohnies, kicks my ass.  Yes, it helps with the fistula and it helps push my disease closer to remission, but good god do the side effects suck.

I’m not sure what it is about this time, but the side effects have popped up in half the amount of time.  I’ve only been on a heavy dose of steroids for just over a week and I feel like I did three weeks into steroids last time.  My body aches, my joints sting, and my skin hurts, especially around my face and shoulders.  My brain is foggy too, which was a huge complaint of mine last time around.

The point of taking steroids this time is to get my body healthy enough for surgery, which I’m willing to do, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to complain about it.  I feel hung over, even if I haven’t had a drink in longer than I can remember.  I feel blah.

It definitely doesn’t help that this week was very busy, especially the last half of the week.  We had two girls out, and I have been playing catch up on top of it after missing days for my hospital stay last week.  Combined with the extra hours I picked up to help out and these stupid drugs I’m on, I’m exhausted.

I got a lot done this week.  I feel like I’m caught up at work for the most part, and the house doesn’t look too shabby.  Bills are paid and errands have been run.  This week was hell, just like last week was, but at least it was productive.  This weekend looks much better though.  Ryan is going to be working a short day tomorrow, so that means lounging around the house until he gets off of work and then relaxing for the rest of the weekend, until my drive to clean and organize steps in anyway.

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As always though, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, as I always do when I get sick.  It seems like when you’re down and out with your health, your true support network shows through.  As always, I am reminded how lucky I am to have such wonderful people in my life, and how happy they make me.

I’m lucky to have a job that I love and that accommodates me with my odd health schedule.  I may want to torch the place half the time, and bury my coworkers in the back building, but hey, who doesn’t?  I’m lucky to have coworkers who give a shit about how I feel and my overall health… even people I don’t work closely with every day have shown concern.  From truck drivers to stores, every day someone new pops up and asks how I’m feeling and how I’m doing back at work.

Of course I’m extremely lucky to have my parents.  My dad took Noodle for a couple of nights while I was in the hospital last week and spoiled her.  My sister apparently took her to the zoo, but I wouldn’t know first hand, I heard from my Dad.  I’m glad that I have such a lovely family who looks out for my kiddo and takes care of her so I can rest and heal.  My friends have played a huge role, from my “cafe-mom” friends to Katie and Ingrid (Girls I grew up with).  My neighbors even brought over a meal when I got home and have cut me some slack for my crap-mood.  Yet again, I’m reminded that family is not just blood.  Some times people who aren’t even related to you, step up more than blood does.

I am more than grateful for Ryan too.  When we first got together, I was concerned about how he’d react to my Crohns Disease.  I mean it sucks, some days I hurt too much to eat, or am feeling run down enough to just want to lay in bed.  (Granted, I’m still more active than half the people I know haha).  I worried what he’d think about my having to get Remicade Infusions, or when I’d end up in the hospital again (we actually started dating right after my last obstruction ~ cute note ~ he had offered to bring me a bag of books while I was in the hospital, it’s what peaked my interest to begin with. :)).  I was concerned that he wouldn’t be happy with a girl who was sick, and who will be sick until there is a cure found.

At this point though, I’m extremely glad I met him.  He has been by my side every step of the way.   He comes to damn near every doctor’s appointment, and has only missed one infusion (due to work).  He spoils me when I feel sick, and picks up the slack when I’m down.  When I realized it was time to go to the hospital, he came with, helped me with Noodle (ie: getting my Dad to come get her, packed up her and my stuff, and took care of her for the first 8 hours we were there.)  He listened to me bawl because of the pain, then again because of the heavy drugs (I don’t know, I’m a crier on pain meds).  He listened to the pros and cons brought to us by the surgeons, and he met my doctors.

Most importantly, he sat there and held my hand, only leaving when I made him.  I don’t know what I was so worried about.  Crohns Disease hasn’t made me a worse girlfriend, just like with being a mother, it just made me a little more unique.  Luckily for me, I found a man who loves me for who I am, even if my body is a bit off.  It’s nice to know that I am not going through this alone, that Noodle is not going through this alone.  Not only do we have the support of our family and friends but Ryan.  We’re very lucky.

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So worn down I feel today, but all in all I’m not in a horrible mood.  I’m am looking forward to spending time with my kid and the boyfriend this weekend, and just enjoying snuggling in in the morning.  My Crohns may be kicking my ass right now, but that’s not going to stop me from baking cookies with the kid, having a sci-fi marathon with the boyfriend, and enjoying my weekend.  So for now, I’m going to drink this last bit of coffee and wait for dinner to finish.  It smells awesome, and I’m sure since Noodle and Ryan cooked it, I’ll eat every bite.

I hope everyone has a great weekend and enjoys this first couple of days with the Autumn chill and rain.  Happy Friday.

Changing the Seasons

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Apparently the boyfriend’s and my anniversary is coming up, or past, or whatever.  I’m not sure and quite honestly I am content to let the boyfriend figure out when it’s supposed to be.  Regardless we’ve been together for about a year, give or take two weeks.  [Obviously I'm the best girlfriend ever, if I can't remember our anniversary how am I going to bitch at him for forgetting... lets add in that I forgot what MONTH his birthday was in last week.  Trophy please.]  We talked about everything that’s happened in our lives in the past year and we talked about change.

Change.  Our lives have changed quite a bit in the past year.  Some of the changes were unavoidable and abrupt, while some changes happened with out us even noticing.  So as we sat with our coffee out in the backyard, I started to think about how much life has changed.  I thought about the way our lives have evolved, intertwining our families and aspirations for the future.  How my home has been molded into our home and how we’ve changed each other.

While of course, parts of us are still the same as they were before.  He’s still laid back enough that a house could drop on him and he wouldn’t care if he lost his ruby slippers.   Where as I’m still high strung to the point where I can have an anxiety attack big enough for the both of us.. or hell the whole county.  I’m still anal retentive about getting bills paid and the house clean, where as he realizes that the world will not end if it isn’t done right. this. fucking. second. The only change regarding our own personalities is that we kind of balance each other out.  He’ll help me clean when I’m being neurotic and I’ll kick him square in the nads when he has procrastinated on something too long.

I know for sure that other aspects of me have changed.  I’ve finally become a homebody.  I realized last weekend that I hadn’t “gone out” in 4 months… and didn’t even know it had been that long.  I used to get antsy if I was stuck inside all the time, now I prefer it.  I’d much rather be out in the backyard with the boyfriend that at the bar or wasting money at a restaurant.  I’d rather get up at 8am on Saturday and work on the yard than feel exhausted since I was up until 3am.  I don’t know if it was because of his homebody demeanor or what, but something rubbed off on it.  Staying out of the night life has taught me nothing if not that I know who my real friends are.  Which is nothing but a benefit.  We both have learned who our close and true friends are in the past year, and the list has dwindled but friendships we’ve kept have strengthened.

All in all we talked about the people we were and the people we want to become.  I think we’ve got something good here folks, and I’m glad we decided to take the chance and get to know each other.  Who knows what the future can bring, and as long as it’s not dead bodies ie me having to bury him in the yard under the lilies, I’m good.  So I guess once I figure out our anniversary (or just make up a date) I’ll wish for many more years.  In the mean time, I’m happy with what we have and am grateful to have the family we have.

 

A Bitch Called Hope

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There’s this song by Blood for Blood (if you haven’t heard them and don’t like hardcore, don’t waste your time.  You’ll want to stab yourself in the ears.) called “A Bitch Called Hope”.  I used to relate to that song a lot, hell even now, more than 8 years later.  Hope is a hard thing to hold onto sometimes, but one thing I’ve realized through all of these years?  I need to have hope.  I need hope to thrive, to survive, and to strive for more.  With out hope I get nowhere… as I proved for a couple years as a teenager.

At the same time though, when you hope and pray for something, especially when you’ve worked your ass off for it, and whatever it is falls through?  It’s devastating.  Sometimes hope can almost destroy you in the end, and knowing that is what makes it so hard.  Hope is a bitch, a cold-hearted bitch, and that stupid bitch will screw you over if you give it the chance.  So sometimes I’m wary of hope.

I’ve always lived by the motto: Hope for the best, expect the worst and work your fucking ass off in the meantime.  I think that whole line of thought is what has gotten me labeled as a pessimist more than a handful of times, but you know what?  It works for me.  It keeps my ass in gear, my mind working, and helps me prepare for the worst in any scenario.  It allows me to continue to bust ass for something I want, but kind prepare for if things don’t work out as planned.  Almost mutes the devastation if it comes my way.

There has been so much going on in the past few years, quite honestly a lot of it got me down for a while there.  In the not to recent past I had almost given up hope that things would get better.  I saw nothing in my dead end jobs, nothing good coming out of being a single mother working sometimes upwards of 16 hour days.  I lost the motivation to love my life and improve what I didn’t love.  I did the basics for my daughter, made her life as perfect as I could, but as for everything else?  I shut down.  In all reality, that helpless feeling I had as I watched my life circle the drain broke me.  It did, it broke me far worse than the abusive marriage I was in, my self-caused train wreck teen years, anything.  That hope that I had clung to for so many years just disappeared.

When things were getting to be damned near unbearable, I finally caught a break.  I was offered a job, and then immediately offered my current job.  Then, like a brick through a bay window, that hope was back.  I knew that if I kept busting ass, life would get better.  You know what?  It most definitely has.  It’s never ending hard work, but it’s worth it.  Last Spring/late winter, one year ago, I was sitting at this kitchen table trying to figure out how to afford my gas bill.  I was barely making enough to afford food, much less my bills and medical treatments.  I was sitting at this table, praying for a hand up, a break, something.  I was headfirst into a bottle a lot of those nights, because at that point I didn’t even want to cope.  I just wanted peace.

Now?  Things are much better.  Not perfect, but enough to make me happy.  I’m still at a wonderful job, I’m in a wonderful relationship, and I’m working on my relationships with my family and a few old friends.  I realized that I need to keep busting my ass and fix my life, and since I was given that sliver of hope, it’s been a fight to keep it ever since.  It’s nice to be able to look back and reflect, the contrast between last year and this one…. it just proves that it was worth it all.  That things DO get better if you work for it, and having that little bit of hope just pushes you along.

Hope is still a bitch though, but hope is here to stay.

Saturday Night In.

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I never thought I’d be a homebody.  Never in a million years, I was too busy trying to get out of my house and have a life to even consider that to make my house a home I have to be here.  A lot can change in year and I am definitely proof of that.  So instead of trying to figure out tonight’s plans to go out and hit the town, I’m settling in and cooking dinner for myself.  My daughter weaseled a pizza lunchable out of me at the grocery so I can make whatever I want.  Chipped Beef on Toast?  Yes please!  Then after the kiddo goes to bed it’s a night of my favorite shows all curled up on the couch.

I’ve owned this house for 3 years now, and it’s been one hell of a roller-coaster ride so far.  Things are still crazy, but at the same time they are smoothing out (if that even makes sense).

I’ve managed to find a stable job, which I’ve been at for 1 year now (as of Wednesday)… a job that even though it gets on my nerves some days, I still look forward to going into the office in the morning.  This job has given me the monotony that I dread, but at the same time, it’s not the same thing every day.  It makes enough money to pay the bills, and then some now that Ryan has moved in and taken over his half of the mortgage and utilities.  So now I’m capable of saving money, which is something despite at times two jobs didn’t allow me to do.

Since Ry has been around he’s been kicking my butt into gear when it comes to the house.  It’s really coming along since last spring, I put in the floor myself and he painted almost every room.  With the new furniture in it looks fantastic!  He’s even been keeping my plants alive and helping me pick out picture frames and little knick knacks.  Something I never bothered to do.  Once he finished my bedroom, I now have my own little library.  He put in bookshelves up a wall and hung up a lot of my candles, it finally feels comfortable in there.  A little retreat, vacation spot for me while I’m at home.

Frankly, our little dysfunctional family and Ryan’s and my relationship has finally turned my house into a home.  For a couple years there, thanks to a divorce and thanks to my own faults, it was just a place to stay.  Now?  I take pride in my home, it’s mine, and I love it.  I actually love spending time here, there is nothing better than curling up and drinking coffee with my love.  I am as happy as I’ve been, which means it’s time to strive for even more happiness and stability.  Setting things right that have been askew for a long time.

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One thing that Ryan kicked my ass into doing was filing for child support.  I had filed the motion and went to court, unfortunately it got shot down.  I finally managed to get an appointment with Child Support Enforcement and they are hunting my ex-husband down for me.  They found his social security number and have put it in the system, on top of that they have the Colorado State’s Attorney looking for him as well as Illinois.  He may never work a real job again, but if he does, or hell, even applies for assistance, they’ll find him.  They even managed to pull up my domestic abuse case, complete with pictures, and flagged it just in case he decides to lose his cool when they finally find him.

I don’t have hopes for anything, I’d honestly be surprised if he finds a real job, but it was worth it.  Anyone who hurts my daughter is instantly on my shit list, it’s just sad that it had to be her own father.  This father’s day?  It will be one year since we even heard from him, more since he left.  My heart breaks for my Noodle, but she doesn’t need someone like that in her life, she will learn that blood is NOT thicker than water, and sometimes good friends are even better than family.

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Other than that nonsense, I’ve been doing what I love to do.  Write.  Not so much in this blog, but in my journal and on my pseudo book.  It’s one thing I’ve decided to pursue, not because I think I will make any money on it, but because why the hell not.  I also have been writing quite a bit in my journal… the point behind that one is simple.  It’s for my daughter.  I have well over 40 full journals so far, I started a journal as soon as I could write.  This way, when I am long gone, my kiddo can read them and get to know me as well as the person I used to be.  Maybe if I go early, she can use them for advice.  That’s one thing I wish my mother would have done is more journaling.  I think it would be easier to at least have something to read of hers, you know to feel a little closer to her even though she’s not here anymore.

Like any parent, I hope to god that I don’t die while she is young.  Going through that myself when I was in 5th grade was horrible, and even now at 26, I need my mother.  However, facing what possibly runs in my genes, what my medications can cause, as well as Crohns Disease, I do worry about it.  That’s why I have been trying to eat as healthy as I can afford, get exercise in as well as stop drinking.  I am proud of myself, I went from drinking (even just one beer) a few times a week to just once a month… maybe.  With just that alone, I feel great!  My Crohns is practically in remission, with a stray fistula symptom here and there but that’s it!  This is the best I’ve felt in years!   The next thing on my agenda?  Smoking.  I want to at least cut down to the bare minimum – a cigarette with a cup of gourmet coffee because, hello, I just can’t have coffee with out my smoke.  Haha, that’ll never change.  I’m just sick of not being able to run like I used to, and smoking doesn’t help with all of my lung infections I catch now that I’m on Remicade.  So smoking is next, I think I can do it, I just have to get up the courage to actually let myself run out of cigarettes.  I hope I get that courage soon.

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Things are good.  I never thought I’d be on this path in life, but you know what?  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  I love my family, I love Ryan, and things are on the up and up and I won’t let that change.  :)

The Tough Get Tougher.

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What an ungodly long weekend.  For real, I’m curled up around a cup of coffee just to stay awake enough to stay up until my bedtime.  Oh myyyy how I’ve changed (go back about a year in this blog… you’ll see).  The big move was this weekend, and once it finally got off the ground it went by with out a hitch.

The problem was getting the damn thing off the motha fucking ground.  The first issue was the truck, but after we figured that out we were moving by 2.

We also had to find help, since our original helper ended up getting a new job (yay him!!!) and working that day.  Thank god for my neighbors.  Seriously, it’s like they’re a second family.  A came and helped Ry load the moving truck and after we got back from the first round T brought her little munchkin over to occupy my Noodle and she helped me unpack 90% of the kitchen and other misc. stuff.  With out her keeping me focused and A helping Ry we would’ve been lost.  T’s mom even dragged us all over for dinner… that was sweet and much appreciated.  Once again they were life savers, as they have been many times since I’ve moved in.  :0)

The night was (thankfully) finished off with beers and chatter while the kids wore themselves out before their bedtimes.  That was the highlight of the night.  Just hanging out, unpacking, and talking with friends.  I think that was my break for sanity for the weekend.  God knows it’s been hectic since.

The unpacking part is mostly done.  I have a ton of laundry to do, and Ry is in charge of sorting his son’s toys and setting up his bed.  Other than that it’s just cleaning up and putting things away.  Oh, and putting in the new stove.  Yikes… I’m soo not touching gas lines seeing as how my brilliant ass just put a small hole in the wall hanging a fucking tile picture.  Looks like a Ry job to me!

As for today?  Errands.  Endless amounts of errands and appointments for both of us.  None of which yielded good news at all.   Things could have very well been much worse, but we got some pretty bad news today.  And no, I’m not talking about it yet.  Just know that it’s another road-bump (the size of kentucky) in our way.  It’s a little overwhelming, seeing as how said road bumps never seem to show up at opportune times, but you know, after re-arranging my house 4 times in the last 3 hours I’ve cleared my head.  It’s just one more thing for us to overcome and work with.  Both of us have been through quite a bit in our lives, and whether we like it or not, we have no choice but to muddle through and conquer problems.  So the bad news is just one more thing to overcome.  Once we get it sorted out, it can only continue to get better.

So in the meantime it just means more work.  Work work work work work.  We’ll get that happy ending no matter what happens (except for if I have to stab a bitch and get charged with murder) and we’ll make it through.  And in the mean time?  New (old) haircut… and purple hair!!  :)

 

Simple Things. Simple Woman.

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So The Boyfriend and I were talking over the weekend about all of the stuff we need to do with the house in order to make this move go smoothly.  Combining two households worth of shit is not the easiest thing in the world, especially when both of us seem to lean a bit towards pack-rats.  We’re listing off all the stuff we need to do, and of course, in typical me-style, I start getting anxiety-ridden.  It was overwhelming.  The list in reality wasn’t that long.  The major parts just being a general cleaning and clearing out the third bedroom.  Either way, I got overwhelmed.  I went through the mountain of clothes that had over-time grew on the floor and The Boyfriend put away some boxes in the attic for me.  Far from done though.  I had two huge foot lockers to move, clothes to move into another closet and numerous other cleaning to do.  I figured whatever.

Today I had to work.  You know, that adult thing I do Monday-Friday 8-5. The Boyfriend didn’t have to work today (usually he’s got the same schedule as I do) due to his boss being a general putz.  So he was going to stay home and get some additional work done.  I headed into work and dealt with bullshit after bullshit from stores and general annoyance in my mindless paperwork.  If it wasn’t for an awesome viewing with a great customer with exotic granite and finding out raises will be on the next paycheck, someone might have died.  Like no shit, died.  Shanked.  With my little yellow pen with the feathers and glitter on top.  I was not in a good mood.

As I was pulling through my neighborhood, I started making a list of things that I wanted to take care of tonight.  Putting away the rest of the clothes, organizing the closet in my room.  I knew he had done some work, I asked him to move the footlockers since I couldn’t lift them and so on.  What I came home to blew my mind.  My living-room… spot less.  My bedroom… spotless.  Trunks in the closet and clothes put away.  Boxes gone, 3rd bedroom cleaned out (minus a pile of mystery stuff he didn’t know what to do with.  Kitchen… spotless.  Steaks, marinating.  Coffee brewing.  Ya’ll know how I am about that.  Clean a little bit, wield a few tools and know when I’ll need a cup of coffee and I’m yours.  Needless to say, I was amazed.  I walked into my bedroom… and spotted my book shelf empty, sitting in the spotless nook.  Where were my books?  Holy fucking shit.  The boyfriend put up 3 wall to wall shelves in my nook for all my books.  My book shelf, 4 tiers high, and stacked 2 books thick… empty.  Now I can fill it with more books.  :)  It was a wonderful end to a stressful day.

So now, he’s watching cartoons with my little one while I write and enjoy this cup of coffee, and I’m left to my own thoughts.  I’m so incredibly happy, it’s almost like a dream.  I’m a simple girl.  I don’t like bouquets of flowers or expensive jewelry.  I don’t need expensive nights out to restaurants, where a plate is worth more than my beater car.  The simple things make me happy.  Like my rose-bush.  Coming home to a clean house.  Freshly painted walls.  Home-cooked dinner.  Bookshelves.  My favorite presents I’ve gotten? From him.  The two I love most?  My leather and twine bracelet (he picked mine and I picked his) and my shell necklace.  Simple.  I’m very lucky to have met someone who knows exactly what I like, what I need, and when I need it.  Perfectly timed every time.  He’s made this woman a very happy one.  A jealous little girl has said that he’s not a man, but a “bitch”.  At first I was a bit angry but now?  I’m laughing.  A man is not a bitch for up-keeping a house with his own hands.  A man is not a bitch for working every day.  A man is not a bitch for buying me what I want instead of stupid shit.  A man is not a bitch for doing things to make me happy, just because he can.  So if a “Man” doesn’t do these things, then I’m not interested.  I’m in a relationship to be happy, to have someone (literally) by my side.  I want (and am finally) with someone who is on the same team as I am.  We can fight our battles together.  I think that’s what makes a real man, not someone who treats me like shit and leaves me hanging.

I’ve done a lot of thinking in the past week, a lot of muddling through my thoughts.  Debating whether or not we’re making the right decision.  I recapped the last year and re-thought everything I’ve been looking for.  The last year has changed who I am, and what I want.  I’m a better person for all the shit that has happened, and luckily for  me, I found someone who is a better person for what he’s been through.  So I’m going to leave this entry on that, and finish enjoying the evening.

I hope everyone had a good weekend and doesn’t mind my mushy posts the past couple days.  I’m busy making my house a home.  :)

/mushy-gooey-writing.

Change. Change. Change.

by

Things are changing in this household.  Some could say finally, hell, a lot of people will applaud.  Things are changing in my world and to put it lightly I’m nervous.  Nervous?  See: neurotic, antsy and being incredibly overwhelmed.  I can’t say that I’m not excited because well, I’m thrilled.  I’m just not one for major change.  Unless I have complete control of the outcome… which this time I don’t.

I’d like to say that my life is calm, relaxing and whatnot but in reality it’s been one hell of a roller-coaster.  A roller-coaster ride that has lasted damn near 11 years now.  My life has been completely insane, not all of it bad but definitely chaotic.  The one thing that has been static for 3 years now is my house.  I purchased this house in 2009, solely for the reason to secure my future, especially through and after a divorce, and because a mortgage was ( and still is ) cheaper than renting a house of this size.  So through the last few years, through the divorce, restraining order, Crohns flare, DUI, and now putting my life back together, I’ve always had my house.

My house is my safety-zone.  I know it’s mine, it’s my place to run away to.  It’s my quiet zone, it’s my own personal concert.  It’s peaceful or as hectic as I please.  It’s where I sit and write in my book or type in my blog.  It’s where I go to run away from the world.  My safe-zone.  Even through changing jobs 4 times in 3 years, my home has always been here.  On the worst of days, through heartbreak and tears, I could always curl up with a cup of coffee and listen to the silence, or my child play.  My house is my hide-away.

My house is about to become a lot more chaotic.  Hell, it’s pretty chaotic at the moment.  I’m sitting here listening to my daughter sing about a whale… Ryan wrestle around with his son.  I can barely hear myself think.  Chaotic.  Chaos.  At the root of the word.  Just recently we decided to merge our families.  No you assholes, I’m not getting married, hell no.  Not for a long time.  We decided to move in together.  Numerous reasons.  Of course to take the next step in our relationship, but also to help with my finances, and to prevent Ryan from having to pay a large amount of rent or having to move a handful of towns away from his son.  There’s a lot that plays into it, and basically what it comes down to is that it’ll benefit both of our small families.

So we spent this weekend doing as much packing as we can, and then working on cleaning up my house.  Ry’s son is taking over my 3rd bedroom, which means that it’s no longer my closet.  I never realized how much clothing I actually have.  Christ.  Beyond that, just cleaning.  My scummy living room furniture is going to the curb, and his is coming in.  As is my 10 year old mattress for his new one.  We’re also renting a small storage unit for the furniture of his that won’t fit in my house, like his entertainment center.  Merging houses isn’t as easy as you would think.  For the most part we’ll be able to do it… there is a few small issues.  My shed is too small for a motorcycle in winter… but hell, we’re building a deck this year (sorry Dad, you’ve been saying you’d help since lasts spring… times up haha) so we might as well build a larger shed.  One big enough for the kid’s bikes, lawnmower, yard chemicals, motorcycle, etc.  Why not?  We have a lot of work to do with this house, now and in the future, and the thought of it makes me full of anxiety, but I think with Ry being more a long the lines of step-by-step instead of my do-it-all-at-once-why-isn’t-it-done-yet? will help.

I’m nervous about my safe-zone changing, but I think it’ll work out for the best, and all involved will benefit from it.  So yeah, nervous, but also excited.  I’m thrilled to (continue) waking up to the person I’ve fallen in love with.  I’m thrilled that Noodle has someone to play with and hopefully learn from.  I’m beyond excited about the future.  Here’s the hoping to making this house into a home.  :)

Luck comes in the form of a wrench.

by

Sitting on my couch right now, the mini-me is eating her lunch and my Dad and The Boyfriend are installing my new water heater.  I can’t help but think about how lucky I am.  I’m lucky because my Dad bought me a new water heater as a gift, so I wouldn’t be broke.  I’m lucky that Dad and Ry are installing it for me, since I don’t think I could even lift the tank, there for saving me money in labor.  I’m a hands on girl, but sometimes brute strength is essential.  So instead of going broke and pulling every muscle in my body, I get to relax and listen to them chatter among themselves.

I had a little conversation with The Boyfriend last night.  I told him how much I appreciate the help he’s been giving me.  This house had gotten so overwhelming with all of the remodeling and cleaning on the To-Do List.  Working 40+ hours a week and dealing with Crohns made the whole ordeal so incredibly daunting I damn near had an anxiety attack.  Since The Boyfriend arrived and booted his way into my life he’s done nothing but help me.  From painting my house to minor repairs.  To ceiling fans, thermostats, and now the water heater.  When he started steam cleaning the carpets (I still have carpet in the bedroom) and scrubbing cabinets last night I realized how lucky I am.

As far as I’m concerned, it takes a special someone to really see what a person needs.  When I asked him why he does so much for me, the little repairs and such, he responded with “I see how much the little things make you happy.”  That kind of person is someone worth holding on to.  I’m very lucky I met him, much more that we’ve been able to stick it out through out all the various drama and issues thus far.

–

You never really know where a relationship is heading, you never really know if it’ll last.  I’m not just talking about love, I’m talking about friendships.  If there is one thing I’ve learned over the past handful of years is that you have to learn how to enjoy things in the moment.  Make the memories that mean something, that way you’ll always have a bit of that someone in your heart (whether or not you like it).  These days I surround myself with people who matter.  People who show compassion, people I care about, people whom I’d go above and beyond for as well as vice versa.  It’s much easier to live a happy life if you minimize the toxicity in it.  It’s hard to see the negative aspects sometimes, but when you do, when you rid yourself of them, you feel a difference.  Trust me.

I’m lucky enough, finally, at this point in my life, to not only have a wonderful family but a secure set of friends and a boyfriend… all of which I’d do just about anything for (sorry kids, my kidneys are MIIIINE).  It took a long time to figure out who and what I needed in my life, but now?  Even on the worst days, there’s warmth inside of me… instead of just regret.  So I think I’m going to go make a cup of tea and watch the boys work.  I hope everyone has had a great weekend so far.  I’ll be back for more random writing later!

 

 

[ps. Sorry for the un-funny, not-violent, almost-profanity-free blog.  Just had to get all of that crap out of my head.  :)]