The Vodka On Top Of The Fridge

I spent the whole weekend with my boyfriend and his family. His parents were down to celebrate their anniversary so we brought the boys over to both of his sisters’ houses (Saturday and Sunday) to hang out with everyone.

I love his family. But sometimes I feel like such an outsider. It makes me kind of sad. I know that I have the rest of my life to build new relationships, but right now it kind of sucks. I love hearing stories of when they were growing up. It’s quite humorous.

I think what makes me feel like such an outsider is that my life has been completely different than theirs, and it makes me feel like a wild, party girl. (And although I did have my party days, they’re not quite what I know a wild, party girl is.)

I’ve found that sometimes I’ll say something that is obvious to me, from my life experiences. And the boyfriend looks at me like “what?” It has happened while with his family too. I forget how it came up, but I brought up Beer Pong. And I got the “What?” look. And then he asked some of the others there and I got multiple “What?” looks. And it was far simpler to just stop from there than to continue on. And I lived this really independent life for so many years! All of them got married young, all have at least two kids minimum. (All the siblings, no joke!) So sometimes I feel like the young out of control wild child teenager compared to them.

And man, do I ever feel like a party girl when I’m with them. I don’t drink every day, nor do I get out of control. But I do enjoy a nice glass of wine with dinner or a delicious cocktail now and then. I grew up with alcohol in my family. My dad would have a glass of red wine every night with his dinner. My mother is a tequila connoisseur. I’ve worked on becoming an amateur wine taster and learning all about the different wines. I’m aware of alcoholism, and I don’t believe that my drinking habits even come close to alcoholism or being out of control. (As I have seen it in real life with family and friends.) But when you’re with a family that hardly ever drinks, and with a boyfriend that literally just started drinking (mainly more because he’s met me and my family) well … I feel like I’ve corrupted him. I feel almost evil, and dirty, and wrong.

His parents were over last night to look at the apartment. We had bottles of Vanilla Absolute, Strawberry Stoli, Hazelnut Kahlua, the remains of some Strawberry Margarita mix and some nasty Mike’s Hard Lemonade bottles (his because man that stuff is nasty) on top of the fridge. (Off Topic, if you’re looking for a tasty White Russian mix – I recommend a 1 part vanilla vodka, 2 parts Hazelnut Kahlua and the rest half and half or whole milk. So good!) On Topic, I heard his mother being motherly and, in that worried motherly tone, reminding him that alcoholism runs in his family. (It reminded me of my mother except she starts off with “Don’t forget depression runs in our family…”) But it made me kind of flinch as I sat there at my computer working.

Every time we see family (either his or mine) it’s like he’s discovered something new that he likes or dislikes and has to share it. He likes Corona. He likes White Merlot wine. He likes margaritas. However, he’s not fond of straight liquor, and I really don’t foresee the two of us toasting over Irish Car Bombs together in the future. There was another time this weekend when it was jokingly pointed out that the boyfriend didn’t drink until he met me. And I know that it was jokingly, but man … I dislike being blamed for the choices people make. (Not that they were accusingly pointing a finger. I guess it’s just a tender spot to push with me.) Do I influence people? It’s a possibility. I’ve been told “I blame you” for a lot of thins. I believe that anyone can be a role model or influence (good or bad) in a person’s life. But it’s how the person being influenced perceives and acts upon this influence. Man, I hope that made sense.

It makes me wonder about how our wedding is going to be. I can see it now. My family would be on one side with the glasses of alcohol, laughing and being their crazy selves (sober or not), and his family in the corner with their sodas, looking upon us all saying “Tsk, Tsk.” OK, maybe not completely 8th grade school dance. I’ve had drinks with his sisters before. But still … sometimes I feel like the wild, fraternity sweetheart college girl in the group. And it’s not a bad thing, but it can just be an awkward thing. I guess it’s something we’ll all just have to work on accepting.

I Feel A Little Bit Like I Failed

It was around 11:30pm and it was insomnia … brought on by too much going on in my head and preventing my tired brain from enjoying precious sleep. It wasn’t even that I was worrying about anything specific. I was just awake – Uneasy, emotionally uncomfortable and awake. I decided catching up on One Tree Hill was the best way to deal with it. And one little line made sense of everything.

“I feel a little bit like I failed.” Brooke Davis’ character said to her therapist.

And the minute I heard that line, the light bulb went on in my mind. The clarity of it all came on in a wave, and a weight felt lifted as I figured out what it was that was bothering me.

I’ve mentioned before that I am way too hard on myself. That my standards of myself, for myself, expected of myself are always set higher than the average level of acceptance for any task. On MySpace surveys I’ve always listed that my worst fear is Failure.

Failure is terrifying to me. I work too hard to fail. I’ve always been that girl who gets everything that she wants because she works sooo hard to get it. And if I don’t get it, then it’s because I’ve decided along the way that I just didn’t want it anymore. Competitive in personality I’m the girl that takes on the challenge of being told “You can’t do that” because it’s such wonderful satisfaction in being able to show them wrong.

Except that I feel a little bit like I failed, and it’s been eating me up from the inside.

I feel a little bit like I failed myself when I quit my job. I worked so hard to get my degree, to get my job. My dream job has always been to be an editor at a magazine. Now, I realize that my life now doesn’t mean that I still can’t be that. But the job I had was my dream job in itself. In fact, once I started it, it became the dream job come true. And after all that hard work, and all the effort and love that I put into my education to get my job and my job once I had it, I walked out on it. I feel a bit empty inside. I feel a bit like I’m missing a part of me. I feel a little like there is a hole in my heart when I wake up in the mornings to start off the work day. And in a way, I feel a little bit like I failed myself.

I know the task now it to let it go. I actually got to live my dream job … my dream career … And, it is still attainable. So it hasn’t passed me by. The opportunity isn't gone.

And now, I just have to accept and know in my heart that this is all true.

And now, I just need to make new goals and new expectations. I guess it goes along with the change and the Mantra (see last entry for the Mantra).

And now, I need to understand that even though I feel a little bit like I failed – I really didn’t.

I Want Off The Ride! Or At Least A Chance To Catch My Breath

I’ve been waiting to write this entry, as it’s another emotional and challenging one. So please consider this as your forewarning.

Once again, it was an exhausting ride on the emotional roller coaster this weekend.

The fury and wrath from Friday fizzled later on that night, especially after catching up with my god brother. I got to get all caught up on the details of his nasty divorce and after a martini and delicious food all was well. I talked to the boyfriend later that night and Saturday started off pretty well.

The Ride UP
We took the boys to the library to get them library cards. It was really pleasant to see how excited they got when we went inside. Younger Boy automatically started looking for Thomas the Tank Engine books. Older Boy and Middle Boy sort of just looked around in awe. I pointed Middle Boy in the direction of some Curious George books and older boy sat down with a book, that he enjoyed so much he’s read about six or seven times since we brought it home.

Then we went to a little mom and pop candy shop/ice cream parlor that has been around town for years. Boyfriend felt it was necessary to get me some coconut covered in dark chocolates and we got the boys some very good sinful tasting ice cream.

Then the boyfriend and I got to go out to dinner with my parents, we had the dessert (homemade cheesecake) first, and had a rather good night.

The Ride DOWN
Well, the boyfriend and I were out to breakfast Sunday when we got word that the boys’ mother was in labor at the hospital. My stomach soured and a sudden sadness flowed over me like a fog. In fact, I seemed to absolutely stew in it … and I didn’t quite know why it was there.

We got home and I had to get out on my own. I grabbed the keys, hopped in my car and just started driving. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew that I had to know what was causing this sadness. About halfway to where I thought I was going (about 25 minutes later) it hit me.

The sourness was jealousy that she was having another child, the sadness was almost mourning for a child that I had convinced myself that I wasn’t going to get to have.

Let me explain this. The question of “Are you two going to have children” has come up plenty of times. In my heart, of course I want to have a child one day. I want nothing more that to experience this bond between parent and child that I have observed in both the boys and their undying love for their mother and between the boyfriend and the boys.

But in my head, right now and for quite some time, it would be financial suicide. The boyfriend and I both have student loans and of course some sort of debt. Who doesn’t? But, when you have three growing boys to care for on top of it, adding a possible one or two more children (as my generation in my family my cousins have been having twins left and right) just isn’t smart. In my head, I know that it’s going to take a couple of years to get us financially stable enough to even consider having a child. And, personally, I don’t want to have any children past the age of 31. I’m 27 now.

I could blame the no-longer-existing-old-school Plan on this I think. I would most definitely like to be married before we even consider having children. And in the Plan my children would be no more than three or four years apart from each other. Having a child that much younger than the boys really just makes me uneasy. I guess from years of experience I’ve seen success and I’ve seen failure in much younger children with much older siblings. And I just don’t want it.

So I was sad, and bitter, and jealous of the girl. And of course, quite angry at myself. "Get Over It!" I yelled at myself. Of course that didn't work out too well. There she was, getting to have another child. While here I was, sacrificing and taking care of the three she decided she didn’t want to be responsible for.

“It’s not fair. What about me? When do I get to have something that I want?” I thought.

And I cried. I cried a lot. I cried practically all night. And I slept horribly. And the next day I got to hear all about Mommy’s baby. How cute he is. How soft his skin is. How little he is.

And I could only swallow my sadness and smile. You take the good with the bad when you make a choice. And you must accept all aspects of the choices you make. (I feel this is my mantra lately. Maybe I should start a club. We can make jackets.)

Will we ever have children? Who knows, it’s possible. But right now I know that it wouldn’t be the smart thing to do. Nor would it be the right thing or the responsible thing to do. And I’d much rather be childless than struggling each month just to be able to provide for the boys, the cats and us. This is either just a new obstacle I will have to learn to deal with or a new fact I’ll have to learn to accept … for now ... and eventually learn to let go of.

In the meantime, I will enjoy my new smell that I got from Bath & Bodyworks. They apparently discontinued my old smell, so I had to find a new smell. And I have oh, so been enjoying it in the form of bubble bath and after shower. Show yourself self love and pamper yourself with a nice treat when it seems like there’s no way out.

And Then I Exploded

"If you go in for argument, take care of your temper. Your logic, if you have any, will take care of itself." ~Joseph Farrell

You never quite really know just how strong and how much emotion you’ve been bottling up until it explodes on you. If you’re lucky, it’s something silly and stupid like watching one of the saddest episodes ever on One Tree Hill (“And Then I Cried” Sept 17 entry). But sometimes it’s something that really hurts you. And it all just snaps like a levy breaking on a damn…and all of hell’s fury breaks loose on the unfortunate people living in the valley down below.

Well that’s what happened today. In fact, I’m still rather furious at the boyfriend. In fact, I’m waiting for one of my childhood friends to call me back to say that he’s back from the gym so that we can go out to dinner and catch up on life. Because I’m so furious, and angry, and hurt right now that I need to get away. Because if I don’t get some away time and calm down, then I’m most likely to say something that I’m going to regret. And you can’t take things that you say back. And the most hurtful things that you would ever say to someone when you’re angry and hurt, are most likely to someone that you love. And I do love my boyfriend that I’m going to calm down first before I attempt to communicate why I’m so furious, angry and hurt.

I was looking forward to a family weekend. One that we could have fun and relax and be a family. I really wanted to bring the boys to the library to get them library cards. I really wanted to bring them to a park or something so that we could play and get some outside time outside of our apartment. Well, that all changed when I received a phone call from the boyfriend, saying that their mother had called and wanted them for the weekend.

And whatever contraption was bottling everything I’ve been pushing down inside, well that sucker flew loose. I don’t know where it is – maybe it’s somewhere behind my desk or maybe it rolled behind the TV. But I was pissed.

I understand she wants to see them. I understand that they love her and always will. But I don’t agree that she can just call at her convenience and expect to have the boys dropped off at her place because she willed it so. I want to spend time with the boys too (that isn’t on a work day.) Not to point blame or throw a pity party, trust me. I’m not. I’m just … hurt.

I gave up my life to come and take care of the boys and to live with my new family. I take care of them every day. I wake them up and give them breakfast, I feed them lunch, I make them dinner. I help with homework and my effort, unconditional love and patience and my paycheck go toward this family. Sure, it’s only been 12 days, but I like to think that I’m a part of this family too.

It just hurts my feelings, and I’m aware that it only hurts because I’m allowing it to hurt. But it hurts. Our family is not serving to her beck and call. We’re a family too. We have plans and she really needs to call in advance if she’d like to see the boys. This really pisses me off too considering she has no sort of custody of them. She has no responsibility to them (outside of being a mother that I’ve already said my opinion on). It just … a lot of things about this situation irritate me. But this … I just can’t grasp and refuse to bow down too.

I always make a conscious effort to choose my battles. And this is a battle that I am going to pursue. I refuse to have my life revolving around her beck and call. I do not bow down to another person’s irresponsibility, especially hers.

Am I being a stubborn bitch? It’s a big possibility. But do I have a right to be angry and upset? Hell yes I do.

So here I sit. Waiting for my childhood friend to call me so that I can go out, and calm down, and after I’ve calmed down and found my smile I can calmly and rationally discuss with the boyfriend. I don’t like to be angry, but I’m not one to bow down when someone has hurt me either. I’m confrontational … it’s my personality. And if we expect to get married and live the rest of our lives together, we need to learn how to deal with this, in a way that works for the both of us.

Struggling To Merge My Two Lives

“Every person, all the events of your life are there because you have drawn them there. What you choose to do with them is up to you.” ~Richard Bach, Illusions

My being here is still kind of strange at times. (I do realize that it's only Day 12 of my new life, and perhaps my expectations of where I ought to be are a bit high.) I’ve managed to get into a routine in balancing the kids and work. However, I’m still struggling in finding balance for myself. It’s like I have two lives still, and I’m having trouble merging them on a level.

Life One – Being the girlfriend living with a boyfriend, taking care of the kids, dropping them off and picking them up from school, making sure everyone takes naps if they need to, doing the domestic goddess routine of laundry, making meals, and making sure that homework gets done.

Life Two – Being the single career-oriented business woman I’ve always been, work-a-holic wanting to get done what can get done today instead of putting it off until tomorrow.

Like I said, I’ve managed to balance these two live together so that I get it all done. However, I guess on a mental mind level, I’m having trouble leaving my single, independent career oriented mind frame behind. It’s awfully stressful trying to let go of this identity that I have been for years, upon years, upon years. This is also at times, OK more often than just “at times”, quite frightening.

I feel like I’m circling in the sea of change trying to reinvent myself. Treading water furiously as I try to figure out and build up this new identity that I’ve thrown myself into.

I’m in a new skin, and I can’t quite figure it out. I guess I can compare it to a snake. I want these beautiful new colors to shine through, yet I’m not ready to full shed my old skin.

I’ve always been about business. I was my class secretary in high school for all four years, doubling up as the associated student body secretary and senior class secretary my senior year. In college I quickly got involved in Student government as a freshman and stepped up to a Vice Presidential position my sophomore year. In addition I was involved in sorority and was the CPA president, and the Features editor for the newspaper. And after I transferred to my other university I was a sorority alumnae volunteer, fraternity sweetheart and worked again on the newspaper staff. Even now, I’m still a region wide advisor in sorority, still somewhat active in volunteering and community service for the fraternity and sorority, and working a full-time job.

Am I overdoing it? Not really, for me at least. I realize that others couldn’t handle it, others wouldn’t want to handle it. But, oh, how I love the chaos of it.

And here I am. My reality is that I am no longer that single, career-oriented business woman. I’m more the career-oriented, nurturing, business instant mother. Except my mind frame is split between the single, career-oriented business woman and the nurturing instant mother. And on some days, it’s driving me up the wall.

The most successful moment I think I’ve had was when I made home-made playdoh for the boys. They were playing with the playdoh, I had a phonics CD playing on my computer and I was doing my work. Why can’t my poor mind run that smoothly every day?

Again, I remind myself that I chose this life. I want to be here and I want the boyfriend and these boys here. And, I guess it will just take some more time for me to rediscover myself and learn to balance and merge my two lives into one. Why does growing up take so long?

Being A Role Model

Have you ever heard yourself saying something to your child and mid-sentence thought “Am I really saying this? OMG, I’m turning into my mother/father/grandmother” but had to continue saying it because the child is looking at you waiting to sink it all in? Well, I experienced this last night.

Middle Boy was pretty vocal about the fact that he didn’t like what we were having for dinner.

MB: “I don’t want it.”
Me: “You should be thankful that you have food. Some children don’t get to eat food every night for dinner….*insert pause as realization of what is coming out of my mouth and sideways glance at boyfriend who is wide-eyed and shoveling food into his mouth to keep from laughing*…because *insert another pause as I think of a good reason that is going to make sense to a 5-year-old because I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t understand any reason from my Non-Western world college course*… their families … can’t afford to buy food as often as we do.”

And then I sat there and took a drink from my cup, because the cup was big enough to hide the slight frown/grin/laugh that was forming on my lips.

I really couldn’t tell you who said that to me, but I know that it was some adult figure in my life. And as embarrassing as it was, I’m rather thankful for the role models I’ve had, because without them, I don’t know if I would have the strength to do what I do.

Some of them are role models of who I don’t want to be.

The overprotective ex-boyfriend’s mother who automatically didn’t like me because I (and the rest of the female population) just wasn’t good enough for her baby boy.

The mother who was so interested in spotless, clean perfection that her kids weren’t allowed to be kids and have fun – like playing in the dirt/sand because God Forbid you get your jeans all dusty.

There are the role models of who I do want to model myself after.

My mother is a role model of who I’d like to be. It helps that I did follow in her path of getting involved in child development. And trust me, I’ve already put in the “Mom, I have a kid issue question for you” regarding homework. Again, Middle Boy really didn’t want to read at home. So my mom came over and helped show all of us how reading can be fun to a kindergartner, and so far, we haven’t had an issue in reading since.

My mother has also always been the mother who helped push me to be independent and taught me to hold myself accountable. That my actions cause reactions and that other people may get their feelings hurt and to handle my friends with loving care and respect.

Not that she’s perfect, who is? I also have gathered that I’d like to have somewhat of a relationship with my boys. I want to know what is going on in their heads. I’d like them to feel comfortable talking to me about things and in asking me for help. (Something I still struggle with often with my own parents.)

There are also role models that have inspired me to take on the challenge of instant motherhood. Women that have given me hope that there is a light at the end of a very frightening path.

My Editor from my old job showed me that it’s possible to be a mother and have a full-time job in my chosen career. And although I’m no longer doing what I was doing, I am managing to be a stay-at-home mom and hold a full-time work from home job.

My other inspiration was my high school sweetheart’s mom (step mom). She also became an instant mom to three boys. It wasn’t easy, I could tell growing up. But those boys did respect her and care. And she did it. She’s still doing it, even with a fourth child that they had later on, and now a new grandson.

I’m very thankful for all of the role models I’ve had along the way. Also for the fact that I took all of it in and can reflect back on it. (Is that the mature growing up in me?)

And I want to make sure, that no matter what bad role models my boys (and any future possible children come along) have encountered, I want to make sure that I am a positive example of how a woman can be and what a woman can do…even if it’s taking quite a few for the team by not causing more drama or sounding like my mother now and then.

Balancing My Emotions

This last weekend was rather rough for a couple of us in the household. At least there were a couple of meltdowns.

There was a collision of emotions for me this Sunday for sure – anger, frustration and a whole lot of stress. It’s all a perception and a mind frame, and I do know this. It just doesn’t help when things happen to feed the fire.

Middle Boy woke up in the middle of the night crying, and saying that he wanted to come home. “I want to come home” he wailed. Flailing his limbs out at both me and the boyfriend and wandering around aimlessly, obviously lost and confused. He does this every time, at least as long as I’ve known him, he spends the night at his mother’s house. Which as I’ve said, isn’t very often; which is also why I can honestly say that every time he’s spent the night at his mother’s house, the next night he wakes up crying and lost.

It breaks my heart and I’m rather lost on what to do. Is “Home” with us because he’s not used to sleeping somewhere else? Is “Home” with her because that’s where she is even though she hasn’t lived with them for well over a year? What do I do to help him, console him, comfort him? It's hard to help someone that you don't understand, so patience, unconditional love and hugs is all I can offer.

Instinct tells me not to let him spend the night over there until he can mature a bit, or at least understand the situation a bit. “She can spend the day with them, but he can’t spend the night. Hold the woman accountable for her choices. It’s not fair to him that she gets to decide when she sees them and we bow down to it!” I scream inside.

I’ve always been rather hard core about holding people accountable for their actions – especially myself. But that line here is rather gray. (I guess it goes back to my post about smudged lines.) Is it really horrible of me to want to hold her accountable for her actions? For her choices? I guess it’s just something that I’ve learned while growing up. Holding myself accountable and doing the right thing, and making sure that I’m being responsible and not focusing in on the wrong things. And also, making sure I hold other people accountable. I can't push all the blame on myself if I accept that other people need to hold themselves accountable also. If they fail in doing so then I shouldn't beat myself up. Because before I learned this lesson, I would have.

Back on topic, it drives me up the wall that this is happening. She’s their mother, she always will be. That can’t be changed. But it just doesn’t seem fair to the kids. They love their mother, but their mother’s actions just don’t add up. She chose not to have any sort of custody of them. So does that mean that if the kids are having a rough time with situations that we try to work things out so that it’s best for them and not to please her?

It’s all so confusing. What’s right? What’s wrong? What’s fair to everyone, but what’s best for the boys. Am I being responsible? Am I being too responsible? Am I being unreasonable or too Capricornish? Maybe a little bit of "all of the above?" Or maybe I'm being a bit too hard on myself (as usual).

Back to the topic (for reals this time) …this last waking up in the middle of the event left me exhausted. The anger welled up and then ... fizzled. I woke up this morning, and the wanting to hold people responsible and accountable is still there, but the anger inside was gone. I’ve decided that the wonderful little things are just far too good to pass up enjoying. The anger, I know that will always be there, but I will try my best not to lie in it. My last post talked of needing to find a way of dealing. I think it’s more that I need to find a way of balancing the emotions. The wonderful happy ones should far outweigh the negative ones, even if at times it seems that there are more negative ones. Wonderful Happy Moments by far bring warm fuzzies to my soul, and I much prefer to feel those than a sour upset stomach.

Wonderful Happy Moments of Today:
*Older Boy asking “When are you and daddy getting married?” (this just made me laugh…because he has asked this before.)
*While helping me put clothes in the washing machine Middle Boy tells me “Crys, when I get to school today I’m telling my teacher that I helped my mommy put clothes in the wash.” (Me = mommy. Although this is awfully confusing because they call their mother “Mommy” also. I guess you have to know the context to understand who they are talking about.)
*Middle Boy running up excited and giving me a big hug after school today.
*Middle Boy (picky eater) asking for seconds on his pizza tortilla (a creation from my childhood.)

And the day is still pretty new, so there are more moments to come.