Octobering

I love this time of year. For one thing, living in Arizona, it means that we get to creep out of our homes and into the outside world again--I mean, to places that don't involve dousing ourselves in water to avoid spontaneous combustion. It is gorgeous outside and I can let the boys run free. I also get to drag out the decorations; first Halloween, then general Harvest, finally Christmas. My house likes this time of year too. I can tell.

I haven't written much about life in a generalized way here for a while--saving this instead for late-night confessions and inner-most thoughts. Drama that doesn't really define me, but needs to get out every now and then. Things have been really good the past year or so for me, and also really not so good. Funny how life is like that. Overall, my life is great. I am content; I am lucky. We have jobs and a house and two beautiful, generally healthy boys. We enjoy simple things; DVR'ed reality shows, an occasional night out, reading lots of good books.

But things have been hard too: realizing that Mason's issues are not just your average "toddler" tantrums, being completely let down by my family in more ways than one, struggling personally with faith and identity issues.

On the Mason front, I'm feeling better because we are being proactive. We're looking for the right school for him, meeting with doctors and getting him set up to succeed. And while the day to day with him can be emotionally exhausting (every little thing with him is a fight--he is constantly angry, constantly upset), he is super-smart and right on track for kindergarten as far as scholastic issues go. Now it is a matter of helping him with the behavioral and emotional issues. I just want him to be happy. I want him to love life and love himself.

The family issues, well, let's just say that I've been able to lower my standards of familial support and things are much better for me. I've realized that for many years now, I've been seeing my family (divorced parents, siblings, etc.) as how I wish they were instead of how they really are. My expectations were too high and as painful as it has been to realize how much they can suck, it has only served to make me even more grounded and grateful for my little family of four. Let's keep us strong and not worry about the rest.

The last issue, well, it's been tough. Part of the problem is self-neglect as far as spiritual/emotional matters go. Part of the matter is that I've learned through experience that things aren't as simple and clear-cut as they used to be. I feel a little lost, but realize that a lot of it is because I have been in a state of disconnect for a lot of years now. I go to bed at night, almost every night, with a feeling that I have wasted the day. Like I just didn't do what I should have with the precious gift of time that I was given. I lay my head on the pillow with a vague hope and determination to do better the next day, but still it is the same, night after night. I'm missing something here and part of me is scared to even try and figure it out for fear that what I find will lead me down a difficult road--you see, I may hate the feeling that I'm treading water, but at least I'm comfortable with it.

Still, you can only tread water for so long before you start to sink.

Just to Set the Record Straight...

So after that last post, it seems that everyone has the idea that I am in a loveless marriage and totally unhappy with my life. Where in the world could they have gotten that idea? LOL

Actually, I am very, very happy in my marriage. Which is sometimes surprising to even me. See J and I are extremely different in our personalities. Talk about opposites attract—that is us. In fact, we are so different that I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to see him again after our first date. Not that he wasn’t a nice guy…that was the problem actually. He was a Really. Nice. Guy. And I didn’t do Nice Guys. (snicker) I did complex. I did guys that needed fixing. I did guys that were as messed up as I was (am?). But then I realized after a few more dates that nice is…well…NICE. He was so sweet and so sincere (and yes, a little bit of a geek, LOL). And I knew that when I thought of the kind of guy that I wanted to be with 5, 10, even 50 years down the road, he was it. He was a Keeper.

I was a little scared about the level of commitment we were making, though. He was so NOT the kind of guy I pictured myself with. I mean, would we get bored of each other? Would his lack of interest in some of the things I am most passionate about (and vice-versa) drive us apart after time? Did we have enough in common to make it last? These were things I worried about. But surprisingly (and happily) none of that seems to have mattered. Sure, he drives me nuts sometimes (and really embarrasses me with his nerdy white-boy dance moves at weddings, LOL), and I may have to turn to my friends to talk politics (which he couldn’t care less about) and he to talk about fantasy sports anything (which I couldn’t care less about)—but when the chips are down and I need support on the BIG things, I always know he will have my back. Six years later and it feels like I could go 50 more without batting an eyelash. My cynical self is truly in awe.

And like I said in my last post, it may not be the fiery drama-filled relationship that I was used to. And I may miss that crazy excitement just a little bit every now and then. But then I remember at what price that kind of relationship comes with—insecurities, desperation, self-doubt; and I realize that I am not missing a single thing.

Imaginary Friend

It's late, and I should be sleeping. But instead I sit here, listening to music that I really shouldn't because all it does is make me think about you.

But not you. Not really.

I've googled you--you don't look anything at all like you used to. You are a stranger. You are married with a kid--hell, I have two of my own--and you've honestly have added a few unflattering pounds (well, haven't we all...except for your perfect wife--got what you wanted, didn't you?). You finally made it through law school, I see (I am a bit smug that it took you so long) and are living on the East Coast of all places. Who are you? I have no idea.

And yet, here I sit, wondering how you are; wanting to talk to you again.

But not you. Not really...?

Like the Girls said, I'm in love with your ghost. An imaginary friend. A person that no longer exists. And can you really call it love anymore? Ugh. I hate how pathetic that seems. But what can I do? I really did love you. And when you really love someone, do you ever really stop? Even when they are gone? I still love my grandmother, and she's been dead for years. But thinking about the times I had with my grandma doesn't make me feel like I need to throw up...so that's different.

And the weirdest thing is that I really do love my husband. He truly is amazing. So much better for me than you ever would have been. I know logically that being married to you would have been a disaster. Being with him is like a constant, steady stream--being with you was like a crazy, rocky torrent.

Steady is better...but...not quite as...intense...

No, I know that I did the right thing when I finally found the strength to walk away for good. Hurt like hell, though. Honestly, I thought I was going to die. But I didn't. And I'm better for it, believe it or not.

So why the hell am I sitting here listening to my Dashboard station on Pandora and thinking about you? I do miss you--you were my best friend--but there is no place for you in my life now... What is it I want from you? Do I wish I was with you instead? No--never. You made me feel like shit most of the time. Definitely don't need that. Do I want closure? Closure--what a joke. No such thing.

I don't know...I guess...I guess that I just wish that if for one small moment--when you're alone at night and the wife and kids are asleep, you might wonder how I am. And think that you were a jackass to treat me that way. And in some small recess of your heart recognize the love that we had--that I had for you--and be touched by it. Because even if you were never worthy of it, it was pretty damn amazing, that love. And it seems like such a shame to let it go to waste.

Hello Again. Hello.

Hi. I know it's been a while. I wasn't meaning to write here again, really. But I guess I just needed someplace to go. I have a few other blogs out there using my real name (yep, Anelie isn't it--I know that's not cool nowadays, but I like the freedom to be honest without worrying about real-life repercussions), but I miss this place. I miss my old sites, too. This one doesn't quite feel like home to me. It looks like my old archives (going back to 2002) were taken down. I'm sad about that, but I had chances to move them elsewhere. I guess I just figured that no one would miss them. But, surprise, I do.

My life is good. It is simple and yet complicated at the same time. It is centered around motherhood and being a mother. That's one of the reasons that I don't write anymore; motherhood occupies my life to the exclusion of other things that I used to love. I don't begrudge being a mother for that, but I do hope that one day I will be able to resurrect those old passions that are now lying dormant.

Mason is now 3-and-a-half. I seriously can not believe that. He is so much a little boy. He is, and has been, a challenge for me. A beautiful, wonderful entanglement of love and worry. He is so smart, funny and articulate, but it looks as though the issues that I was hoping were just toddler issues are going beyond that. He is ruled by his emotions, but at times they seem to be too much for his little heart and body to handle. We don't have an official "diagnosis" (how I hate that term), but between his father and me, his pediatrician, and his pre-school director and teacher (he goes part-time a few times a week), it has become apparent that his emotional responses to certain normal situations go beyond what the average 3.5 year old should have. The realization that we will probably have to seek outside help for him has been pretty devastating to me. I feel a lot of guilt (is this from watching too much TV? or diet? etc.), but mostly I just hurt because he is "that kid" in his class and I don't want him to be "that kid." I don't want him to ever feel "less than" in ANY way. And when he is in the midst of these occasional emotional meltdowns, to the point that he is injuring himself out of anger and frustration, I want to reach inside him and take away any insecurity and fears and make him whole...and I can't.

I look back over the past 3-and-a-half years and can see areas where I could have been better and honestly feel like I've failed him. I've cried a lot and lost a lot of sleep. It's been beyond heartbreaking.

But then I have to pull myself together and remind myself that I am prone to the melodramatics, and that things aren't THAT bad. He is loving and sweet and 80% of the time acts like a typical overly-energetic 3-year-old. And I can't do anything to change the past, or any mistakes that I may have made, and the important thing is to get educated, get proactive and go on from here.

Ah, but if only love were enough to make our children perfect...

***

Anyway, on another note, the internet has become way too crowded for me, too. I miss feeling a part of something special. I miss feeling like what I was writing might possibly make a difference. I kind of have the feeling like, what's the point? But what IS the point? What was MY point? Was it to see how many people I could get to read my site? Was it to vent my inner issues in a kind of cyber-therapy?

Mostly it was because I was inspired by some really amazing writers and wanted to follow in the same circle as them. But slowly, little by little, those amazing writers have either dropped out, or become these super-monoliths of the internet, where the only option is to become one unread comment in a sea of hundreds.

I miss the diarist awards, JournalCon (from what I heard, BlogHer is an estrogen-fueled nightmare--high school popularity contest times 100), and the crazy phenomenon of actually making friends with people that you read about online.

I don't know...a big part of it is that I miss the "me" that I was back in the day when I felt inspired to actually write online.

I can't blame that one on the evolution of the internet.

Keyed Up

It is so, so stupid that I am not asleep right now. I will be regretting it tomorrow. But for some reason, I feel like I couldn't possibly sleep. I'm all keyed up; antsy about everything and nothing. I feel a little giddy (see last post). I don't know--there is something about the new year and new possibilities that has buoyed me up the past few weeks.

I've had some incredibly good news from a few of my best friends as of late. They are all expecting and that makes me happy. I have such beautiful, crazy-gorgeous children and I want so much for the whole world to have the opportunity to fall in love the way that I have with my kids.

I have been overwhelmingly satisfied with my life recently. It is such a good feeling, to be satisfied; not to feel that aching need that most of us feel--even in the best of times. I can't even tell you how many years of my life I've spent trying to define that ache and to fill it, or to hopefully anticipate the filling of it. But I've been actively trying the past year or so is to stop and just be satisfied with what I've got. And really, I have so much. It bewilders and even scares me a little with how good I've got it. Afraid that this much goodness can't last forever.

There are, of course, a long list of "wants" that I could spout off if you asked me, but I don't dwell on them and have realized that life will be just fine if I never get a single one of them. I hope that I can hold on to that.

In spite of all this satisfaction, I need to work on showing it more. I let the little things get to me too much and allow my stress levels to affect those around me. Mostly my poor husband. I need to be kinder to him. He deserves it. I can be such the quintessential nagging wife.

So, yeah, the New Year has been good so far. The goodwill of Christmas has spilled over, even in the face of an election year. I want to bottle it up and save it for the slump I'm sure I'll feel mid-March, or the end-of-summer blues in September. I want to fill the year with good books and inspirational movies so I can keep this deep-thinky giddy happiness going.

But right now I just hope it settles down a little bit so I can get some sleep.

2008. Bring it.

Hi everyone! I am unusually giddy today. Life is wonderful! Yay! (Don't worry, just give me a minute and I'm sure I'll be back to my normal, cynical self.)

So it's been a crazy, hectic month or so. We did go to Idaho for Thanksgiving. It was good for J to see his family, but it was really hard on Mason. He is not good with unfamiliar surroundings and tends to act out ten times worse than normal--like to the point where people start asking us if he needs to see someone or something. Not a good feeling for a parent. Fortunately, ever since we got home, he has been doing SO MUCH better. I think it's a combination of things: we are really working hard on being consistent with our discipline with him, and he is also getting old enough where he understands the concept of consequences. Next up, potty-training! Rock on!

I did end up being crazy busy with my business over the holidays. I'm designing photo cards (birth announcements, holidays, invitations, etc.) and was NOT prepared for the holiday card rush. Whew! I was up until one or two in the morning most nights for 2 weeks straight. But I made some money and that's always nice. Next year I will be much better prepared. Like with a part-time nanny, a maid, and a lot of Valium. Woo-hoo!

As of a few weeks ago, Quinn officially stopped breastfeeding. I'm sad because I love that bond and I know how good it is for him health-wise, but he was not having it anymore unless he was very, very tired and nothing else was going on in the room. The good thing about it, though, is that now I can focus on getting back into shape without worrying about keeping my supply up. I have to lose 25 pounds before our cruise in May. No more excuses. Sweet! (<--running out of exclamations of excitement)

I've also gotten sucked into the world of digital scrapbooking. I gave up on the paper stuff. Don't have the patience. This site got a lot of my money as of late. But I also use the stuff for my cards, so technically, it's a tax write-off. Gooo, tax returns!!

That's about it. I hope I can keep up this enthusiasm. I know that it will probably peter-out in a few weeks. But for now, it's a new year and I'm all about the resolutions. Happy 2008!

Missing You

Hello, internet. I miss you.

My life is chaos personified lately. I am ridiculously busy with my online business, but ironically, not making much money. Le sigh.

Mason. Ah, Mason. My son (to quote Sheryl Crow), is the difficult kind. He is gorgeous, brilliant, a big ball of life and energy. And also the first to throw a tantrum and scream at the top of his lungs because I kissed him "wrong." Most people in my life insinuate that he is the way he is because I am a bad parent. That kills me for several reasons, but mostly because I am a little terrified that they are right. I don't know. I'm making this up as I go along.

We've made some improvements. I can't continue to raise him the same way I live my life. I am not disciplined. I am not organized. My son needs discipline and organization. It's a constant battle, not only with him, but with myself as well. It is very, very hard.

Quinn is 6 months now, and an absolute sweetheart. Of course, it is hard to find a baby that is NOT an absolute sweetheart at that age. He is fascinated by his older brother, which is both cute and scary since I want him to love his brother, but do not need another Mason in the works. Despite being in the 10th percentile for his size, he is very chubby and kissable at this age. I nibble on his chubbiness as much as I can, knowing it will not last much longer.

We're off to Idaho for Thanksgiving again this year. Since it is currently 89 degrees outside (thanks, global warming!) I have to buy the entire family a set of winter clothes for just this one trip every year. It will be nice to actually experience a season other than "hot" for a change, though.

Overall, when I assess my life I am very happy. This is surprising to me. I am such the perpetual cynic that happiness in the midst of apparent (to some) mediocrity goes against my expectations. But I am. It's not an overwhelmingly blissful or a giddy happiness, but a feeling of gratitude and satisfaction. I think I am getting better at not letting the little things defeat me. I think I am getting better at realizing how blessed I truly am.