My Me-Time Weekend

I had a Me-Weekend this weekend. By Me-Weekend I found time to pamper me.

First though, I am breathing a bit easier. My fiancé brought my visiting suggestions to Jane and she said that they worked for her for this holiday season. I found out that Jane will be going to work again come January, and only has Thursdays off. Allegedly she’s looking for a new job, we’ll see what happens. But this means that she (apparently) can only see the boys on Thursdays. So I had my fiancé ask her if she’d be up for taking the boys out for dinner and spending time with them Thursday after they get out of school. She’s good with this. The gripe: I hope that it will work out because it has bothered me for a while now that there was no organization or regularity to their visits with her. So until she gets a new job, this will work for now. (Although it still bothers me that she can’t try to work it out so that she can spend more days with them, but I cannot make her choices for her so I will not dwell on my frustration with it.)

Back to my Me-Weekend. My fiancé dropped Younger Boy and Middle Boy off at Jane’s, and two of Older Boys friends came to stay the night on Saturday. I went to the salon and got a hair-cut. I’m so pleased! I move so often that just as I find a good salon or day spa, I’m packed and moving again. I discovered a salon and day spa that sells/uses Aveda products happens to be very close by our place! *Squeals and jumps with delight*

I was able to make an appointment online and went in. Not only did I find it, but I really love the hairstylist that did my hair! I told her that I’m looking to grow my hair out for my upcoming wedding in 2010. She was really excited after I told her my fairy tale romance and we found a photo of what I’d like to achieve. I also really appreciated how she worked with my hair and didn’t show one ounce of irritation that we spent two hours trying to get the starting point looking right. So now I will be going in every eight weeks to get my hair trimmed and to keep it in shape for the big day. I’m ever so excited about this! Plus she was very nice, had a fun and sassy attitude, and I must mention again that she took time to work with my hair! Not many stylists have done that. My hair is really fine, but I have a lot of it so it acts as though it’s thick sometimes. It’s also wavy and straight at the same time. In other words, it’s a pain in my rear. So it’s nice to have a hair style now that works with my hair instead of me working against my hair.

Another part of my Me-Weekend was having lunch with my best friend (let’s call her Liz). Liz is actually going to be one of my bridesmaids and is helping my sister (my maid of honor) with all the wedding planning. We don’t get to see each other as I’ve always lived rather far away. We’ll she had a day off on Sunday and we Google Mapped it and we live about an hour and a half apart now. So we hopped in our cars and met for lunch at the Olive Garden. Spending time with my best friend, Wild Berry Daiquiris and delicious pasta really did the trick.

Liz and I brainstormed some possible bachelorette weekend ideas, and debated over the wedding invites I found. It came down to “What am I willing to skimp on” and “What do I really want to spend mucho money on.” Invites just might not be worth it I’ve decided.

I felt kind of bad though because I was supposed to go pick out the Christmas Tree with my fiancé and the boys. But I really, really needed some “Me Time” with my best friend and my fiancé understood. So next time I’m going to bring him with me when I go to have lunch with her because they want to meet each other. And I really would like to introduce them before the wedding.

Anyway, I was able to refresh and recharge a bit. Although I came home to misbehaving boys (as what usually happens after a night over at Jane’s is that Younger and Middle Boy often need reminders of the rules in our house and throwing fits doesn’t get you what you want at our house.) But I’m feeling much better still. I just really need to make an effort to do something nice for myself more often rather than wait until I’m about to explode/or have already exploded. I also want to work on making sure my future hubby and I have some time to ourselves soon too. At least I know I’ll have some “Me-Time” at the salon every eight weeks, and we'll be able to have date night every Thursday starting in January.

When the Tears Won’t Flow and the Words Won’t Come

I’ve experienced some pretty gnarly events in my lifetime. Some of the ones I would even have courage to share online would be the ex-boyfriend who tried to strangle me one New Years Eve because I said I didn’t love him. Another would be another ex-boyfriend who stalked me by calling and hanging up multiple times a day, and then would drive by my house to see if I was home and to see who I was with. A lot of these situations have hardened me. I’ve developed some pretty strong walls, I’ve learned to live rather emotionless at times because it was so much easier than feeling scared or anxious or frightened or sad or hurt, and at this point in my life it’s pretty frustrating. Especially since I've learned that life is too short to live in a fog of nothingness. I'd rather hurt than be numb.

The main problem is that whenever I am upset about something the feelings bottle themselves up. I try ever so hard to cry, to scream, to get angry and throw things … but none of it happens. The tears dry up, the emotions get swallowed down even more and I feel even worse. The walls go up and it’s becomes hard to decipher what the feeling/emotion is. It gets even harder to try and talk to someone about it. There have been many a times that I’ve gone to see a therapist or college counselor and I spent a majority of the time sitting there not saying anything much. The words just get caught in my throat, in my stomach and when I try to force them out they freeze. Then my brain goes blank and I can’t tell you why I’m upset, much less what’s going on in my head.

It’s always been so much easier to write it out, however, even trying to get them down on paper is hard lately. I think it comes back to me being hard on myself. I get angry or frustrated or sad by my current new situation, and then I feel guilty and selfish for feeling that way and I try my hardest to swallow it down. Not the best way to deal with it, I know.

Last night was one of those nights. I sat there feeling horribly down, and angry and I couldn’t tell my fiancé why. I felt the walls go up and I couldn’t stand being near anyone. So I slept out on the couch with the cats for a good majority of the night until I could relax a bit and crawl back into bed. I still couldn’t quite get it out this morning. I still can’t fully pick it apart. But I do know that one thing that has pushed me into this funk is that I just feel lost.

I don’t feel like I am who I used to be. I most definitely don’t live the life that I used to, but I don’t get the opportunity to be who I used to be either. I left my sister and my friends all behind. I work from home and I can’t seem to find anyone that I feel I can be myself around. It’s not that I feel that I’m being fake but, more I feel like I can’t be me. I don’t even know if I’m making sense, but this is my effort at trying.

I miss having a beer and watching a game with my guy friends. I miss having saki and sushi after work with my girl friends. I miss watching Paula Deen with my sister. I miss going to the bar or going to a party and socializing with people who enjoy drinking and socializing. I miss being able to have a dinner with people who will eat their food and not whine or throw fits. I miss joking around and I miss being able to be sarcastic around people. I feel pretty isolated here, and I don’t quite know how or where to go to try and feel comfortable again. It never occurred to me before that part of my anger and frustration was because of this.

I’ve tried talking about this with my fiancé once before. He suggested girls night out, except the girls that I know up here wouldn’t have the girls night out I’d imagine. The girls I know are either far wilder than I or far too conservative. I really hated living in Southern California, but I really loved the friends that I had there. I feel like I can be myself with my fiancé, but we don’t get much of a chance to have time to ourselves lately, especially with Jane only wanting two of the three boys visiting. The night he proposed to me was our first night out alone in a long time.

I kind of come down hard on myself about this. I remind myself all the time that “This is the choice you made, deal with it.” But I know that’s most definitely not the way to deal with it either. It goes back to trying to learn to balance things I guess (Struggling To Merge My Two Lives).

I know that this is just a funk that I’ll probably hit from time to time. But does it ever suck to hit it, and not be able to talk about it out loud. I look forward to being able to have a fun night again soon.

Please Pass The Clorox

It’s started. Younger Boy has been inspired to potty like a big boy. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth when I noticed a large puddle on top of Younger Boy’s stool. There also happened to be some liquid spattering the edge of the toilet seat and running down the front contributing to another puddle forming at the bottom of the toilet.

“Start Scrubbing” came to mind. And all the comments from the post swirled around my head. I could literally see them typed out in front of me. And then I giggled. And then I sighed. And then I grabbed the bottle of Clorox Anywhere and some paper towels and cleaned it up.

I felt dread and happiness at the same time. Happiness that the boy felt compelled to take the steps himself to go potty like Daddy and his older brothers. Dread as I realized I am on my last roll of paper towels and should, most likely today, get my butt over to the store to buy some more and possibly a new bottle of Clorox Anywhere also. I’ve considered putting a puppy pad at the front of the toilet too. We have them because my cat likes to stand up while peeing and it’s helped a great deal in cleaning up around the litter box. Why not Younger Boy’s potty training also?

After cleaning the lovely puddle up I again expressed to my fiancé:

Me: I think it would be great if you, and possibly the older boys, would take Younger Boy into the bathroom with you when you have to pee. I have no problem working on aim with him, but I don’t have the part to show him how to properly lift up both lids and to aim. I just don’t know how it’s done.

I often talk with my hands, so you’ll have to re-read that and imagine the hand movements of lifting up both lids and handling the parts to properly aim inside the bowl. And I stick strongly by my visual learning bit. If he sees them doing it I'm convinced he'll want to do it like them too.

I've now entertained the idea of keeping the bottle in the bathroom, along with a roll of paper towels, and possibly a bowl of circular shaped cereal for aim practice. (It would have to be Apple Jacks because we're now out of Fruit Loops. Hrm ... green and orange speckled with green loops. "Aim at the Green Loop" is much easier to say. Maybe I can just pick those ones out.)

I just had to share as I know most of you have been there and will probably enjoy my experience, and to let you know that without your comments I probably would not find this as amusing as I do. Because I actually did laugh when I saw that puddle before I sighed.

Holiday Ramblings

This is my first year sharing a holiday. And I don’t mean with Jane, as she thus far is the least of my holiday issues. No, I’m talking about sharing the holiday with my fiancé’s family. It’s also my first year having children to consider gifts and what not for. And I must admit, it’s a bit more stressful now that I’m living it.

Financial Stacking Tricks
My fiancé and I are paying for our monthly bills/loans; providing for a family of five; trying to find presents for our families; and provide all the holiday cheer for our own family. It probably doesn’t help matters much that we’re also trying to pay for a wedding on top of the holiday spending. Plus, have I even mentioned that Middle Boy’s, my fiancé’s and my birthday are all in a row about a week and a half after Christmas? Because they are! Oh My!

That’s not even the icing on the cake. It’s a pretty good icing base, as the financial issue is the biggest of my problem, so far at least. And I’m hoping it remains that way. No, I’m still plotting our Christmas Day marathon in my head. Have I mentioned that I’ve never had to split a holiday between families before.

Holiday Tap Dances And Cooking Talents
Thanksgiving was a pretty good starter. And I’m hoping that Christmas Day will go along the same lines. The main issue I’m having is that I just don’t have all of the details yet. And by “details” I mean that I don’t know what I’ll be expected to bring food wise for either of the feasts yet. I’m trying to fit in cooking time. Traditionally, I make a bunch of my homemade French apple pies and give them out to extended family. It’s a tradition that I’d really like to keep going as this is really one of the few chances I get to see the people that I give the pies too.

Thanksgiving I came down to the line as I like to prepare things the night before and then throw them together the day off so that they’re hot, fresh and delicious. Not wilted or soaked through. I need details people!!! Perhaps I’m far too organized and structured for my own good.

At work I had a giant wall calendar with color coded deadlines on it. I also had post-it notes on the calendar for things that didn’t have a set deadline but really ought to get done. That and I had great satisfaction in taking the post-it note down when I was through with a task. The point is that I’m trying to plan things out and organize them without the details. And it’s driving me up the wall.

Making Christmas
Whew … let’s jump to presents. I’m really all about getting useful gifts. Now, I remember wanting the most useless toys, and I got a few of them. We had the boys write out lists for things they wanted (that weren’t video games). They wrote some nice little lists. They’re each getting one things off of that list. But man, there are quite a few simple things that they didn’t quite ask for that they’re getting too. Like warm, winter clothes! I feel like a jerk, but now have a new appreciation for my parents.

I remember the socks I got each year. I knew they were coming, and I didn’t hate getting them as those socks got put to good use, specifically the slippery socks that we slid across our hardwood floors in. Now, as a parent, I see why I got winter socks each Christmas.

Sharing Me
I also am still getting used to spending/sharing my time with another person. It was a big deal moving in with a boyfriend, and now that he’s my future hubby, that’s a whole new reality check I’m dealing with. And now I'm expected to also go over to spend time with his family. Not that I can’t do it, and I do enjoy spending time with his family. It’s just a new concept to balance out.

I’ll make it through. Perhaps not completely sane, but I’ll figure it out. I, at least, have that much faith in me.

And I Hope It Scared Her

Last week got a little hectic. We got a phone call during the week, that from the sound of it (between my FH and Jane’s sister (let’s call her Sandie) something was not right. The tone and exchange on my end was strange (usually my hearing is well enough that I can hear both ends, but I was working and not really feeling like trying to hear the whole conversation). By “strange” I mean that something most definitely wasn’t right. I could feel the air thicken as dread spread through my veins. I began running through my head all the possible people that could have died or that could be in the hospital. All I could think was “What has happened now?” Afterward, my FH and I had a little chat in the bedroom.

Apparently Jane was at the hospital having tests done. The story through the grapevine was that she had fallen, hit her head and was unable to 1) use one side of her body and 2) unable to talk. The call came from Sandie (who I actually adore and e-mail with frequently) as she was the one that was watching the new baby. I was thankful that someone was smart enough to call us and let us know. I might not give a damn about the girl, but she is the mother of the boys and that matters enough. Especially since the boys were supposed to go over to Jane’s this weekend.

I looked at my FH and gave my unsolicited (or maybe it was wanted and he knew I'd give it whether or not he asked) advice (in the most respectful tone that I could find considering I was biting my tongue from what I really wanted to say) that we not say anything to the boys just yet until we knew more information about what was going on. I had the fiancé try to get a hold of Jane’s boyfriend (let’s call him Tyson) to try and get some sort of communication going. He sent an e-mail since he didn’t think he had Tyson’s cell number on him.

I don’t know if Tyson ever responded back, but Jane called on Thursday (I think it was Thursday). She’s back to talking again, and wasn’t going to take the boys after all this weekend – Which I don’t blame her, and I wouldn’t have wanted to send them over there anyway. I stress out enough sending them over there when she’s at her best, why the hell would I want to send them over there immediately following an event like that. Let the girl heal up.

So when the boys asked me if they were going to Jane’s this weekend, I followed up with “Sweetheart, Jane’s not feeling well and she needs to rest up and feel better this weekend.” Not too far of a stretch as she was, in fact, supposed to be resting and taking care of herself. The answer sufficed and we had a good weekend. Although it did throw a kink and we had to find a last minute babysitter as we had an appointment to go tour the wedding venue.

So what I really want to talk about is that at first I felt kind of bad. Not for her, but because I didn’t really give a damn, and that the first thought that came to my head that I really wanted to say was “You get back what you dish out and Karma is a bitch, especially when it come back to bite you in the ass.” Then I tried to turn it around. Would she give a damn if something happened to me? Hell, does she even know that I was rushed to the emergency room when I got stung by a bee earlier this year? (Flight Of The Bee entry.) Of course not, because she has no responsibility for the boys, why would I getting hurt effect her life? So I reasoned with myself that I didn’t have to feel bad about NOT giving a damn about her. It's not like I was hoping something bad would happen to her.

My concern in all of this was, just exactly what would we tell the boys if things had gone in the other direction. How would they feel if it had? I really didn't want to scare and worry them with bad news that might not be bad news. Luckily, at this point, I don’t have to worry about it. But the opportunity has risen, and the next time something happens (if something else happens – hopefully not) I hope I’ll be a bit more prepared. The one prayer I did say for Jane was I hoped that she would see the light. I hope that this experience scared her enough to maybe consider that the boys mean more to her than she has been acting.

I’ve been at that point where something happened that scared me enough to see a light and make some changes. I can’t change Jane. I can’t make her change her actions. I can only hope that this experience will have, just maybe, helped to guide her in the right direction to want to be a better mother and to want to be a better person.

Potty Training Boys - Fine Tuning the Details

From my last post “Instant Mom Adventures In Potty Training” I celebrated in the achievement of getting Younger Boy out of diapers and peeing on the toilet. We’ll it’s been a little over a month since then and there has been much progress. *Does A Celebration Jig of Delight*

Achieved:

• Becoming aware that “I have to go poop”
• Acting upon that awareness
• Pooping in the toilet (at our house/when he’s with us at least. I can’t for sure say the same for Jane. But if she’d rather not be proactive in potty training then that’s her choice.)
  

Next on the list:

• Learning to wipe
• Peeing like a big boy
  

Now you see these last two have brought some new elements to the plate that I’m just not familiar with.

Let’s start with peeing like a big boy. That is much further down my list at the moment. I’ve been trying to recruit the assistance of my fiancé, Older Boy and Middle Boy to help me out here. I don’t know about you, but I’m a visual learner. There is a photo of me as a three-year-old imitating my dad by sitting on the training toilet in foot pajamas, holding open a newspaper and smiling for the camera. Was I ever so proud that I could sit on the toilet like my Daddy. *I do want to note that the newspaper is upside down* So I’m hoping that if one of them brings Younger Boy in there with them to show them how they do it, maybe he’ll be inspired to want to do it too.

I did attempt it yesterday:
Me: Do you want to pee like Daddy, Middle Boy and Older Boy?
YB: Yes!
Me: OK, first you have to stand on your stool facing the toilet.
YB: OK
Me: Then pull your pants down, No YB, you don’t have to take your pants off. Leave them near your feet.
YB: OK *assumes the position*
Me: *Throws a purple fruit loop in the toilet* OK, do you see that? Try to pee on it.
YB: *Grabs my hands (which are trying to help him balance on the stool) for dear life … hesitates … whimpers … shrinks back* [Obvious stage fright and there will be no performance today folks.]
Me: You know what YB, that’s OK. You can try again later.

We’ll, E for Effort, right? Perhaps not the best directional method, I do know for a fact that pregnancy tests state a bit more detail then “Pee on the stick.” But I just didn’t think that the phrases “Aim for the purple loop” or “Try to shoot your stream of pee at the purple loop” were going to help my cause. It just is this one little issue I have with potty training boys.

You see … it’s just that I don’t have the package that they have. As a woman I actually lack the male anatomy parts, thus I am just not familiar with how that all works in all matters of toilet use. In college, if I was out at a party in an orchard and I had to go, I didn’t have the convenience of a hose-like device attached to my body to help funnel it in a convenient location. I had to pop a squat with the rest of the ladies.

I tried to do some research on this dilemma and by “do some research” I mean that I had to ask the fiancé. (We’ll refer to him as FH – Future Husband in conversation.)
Me: So, I have this problem.
FH: What’s that?
Me: I need to know how boys wipe.
FH: Huh?
Me: Well, since YB is with me often through out the day, and I obviously, at least the last time I checked, don’t have that package, I don’t quite know how it works.
FH: *Gives me the “Are you F’ing Kidding me” look and gives a sort of chuckle*
Me: No, I’m serious. How do you wipe? Do you stand up? Do you sit down? Do you have to maneuver around that thing? Do you just move it to the side? Do you just reach around? I don’t have one so I don’t know.

This research really didn’t help me. Although I did gain some information that I suppose will be somewhat helpful in my efforts to teach something I’ve never done before. My younger sister found my research quite hilarious but agreed that she didn’t have a damn clue how it’s done either.

I’ve concluded that the older males in the house are also going to have to just bring Younger Boy in there with them too so that he’ll have another example of how boys do it.

So for now, I will try my best to do this latest task. I will flourish in the joy that the boy is pooping and peeing in the toilet and that I don’t have to deal with diapers at the moment. And I will also bask in Younger Boy’s excitement and delight that he is going to the bathroom like a big boy.

His latest phrase is, “When I learn to wipe my butt I can go to preschool!”

At least I have something motivational enough on my side to help leverage him to want to learn to wipe.

Give Me That Tragedy

“There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart's desire. The other is to gain it.” -George Bernard Shaw
“Yes, losing your heart's desire is tragic. But gaining your heart's desire? That's all you can hope for. This year I wished for love...to immerse myself in someone else and to wake a heart long afraid to feel. My wish was granted. And if having that is tragic, then give me that tragedy. Because I wouldn't give it back for the world.” -Peyton Sawyer (The Tide That Left And Never Came Back, OTH)

How I adore my One Tree Hillisms.

I have wonderful, happy, exciting news.

On Tuesday the boyfriend and I actually got to go out on a date (very rare occasion). The boys were at Jane’s to spend part of their Thanksgiving week off.

He brought me out to the pier to watch the sun set. (It was a bit overcast but this has become a special spot for us to go to.) We were sitting on a bench watching the sun set, the calm water and the lights of houses across the water light up. There were some annoying skater boys in the back of us, and I laughed at them while the boyfriend muttered annoyance at them. We were holding hands gazing out at the water when he turned to me and said something about putting an end to an evening of nervousness.

And that, is when he pulled out a beautiful diamond ring and got down on one knee as he asked me to marry him!

I managed to whisper out a yes as the excitement and rush of bliss filled me up, and he slipped the ring on my finger.

Then we went and played some putt-putt golf (he in his slacks and tie and me in my wedges and poufy skirt. It was great!) And then went out for a delicious Italian dinner.

So the boyfriend has officially been promoted up to fiancé. It’s still sinking in, but I can’t shake the blissful happy butterfly feeling that rushes through me lately. I don’t think I want to shake it, as it is actually rather nice and refreshing.

And the boys are very excited about it. Older Boy has been asking for about two months now when we’re getting married. And Middle Boy had a huge grin on his face and swooped up to give me a hug after we told them. Younger Boy seems more interested in whether or not he can play with play doh or not. Expected I guess from a three-year-old boy. Of course, now they’ve been asking when I’m going to get a ring for Daddy. They crack me up.

I was very nervous about telling the boys to be quite honest. Even though Older Boy had been asking for months when we were getting married, or my favorite, “Daddy, when are you going to get a ring,” I had a really bad dream one night last month where we did tell them and Older Boy got so mad and angry that he was trying to purposely sabotage me. But, they are excited and that puts my worried soul at ease.

We’ve started planning and we’re trying to figure out how to incorporate the boys into it so that they feel that they are a part of it. We’ve been trying to work on becoming a family, and I think making them feel a part of it would be great (I hope!)

Anyway, that is where I have been. We’ve been sharing the good news and I’ve been all over the internet (Etsy, The Knot, Here Comes The Guide) trying to be prepared and doing my research. But I had to come on and share it with all of you too! I hope that you all had a great Thanksgiving! Oh, and here is a photo of the ring because, as a fellow lady, I know you all want to see it.