A Work In Progress

Reading through my blog list this morning, I came across two posts from two wonderful bloggers that got my brain going on the subject of self-loathing or, conversely, self love.  Since I’ve been praying for God to open my heart more and make me a better person (because clearly I don’t think I am), I’m taking this as another one of His bricks upside my fat head.

Hey Sherry!  Pay attention!  I’m tawkin’ here-ya! (In my mind, God is from Jersey today.)

Anyway, Heather over at Sober Boots, reprinted a beautiful prayer from another blogger that I will print and keep in my meditation room so that I can use it on a regular basis.  You’ll have to check out Heather’s blog (which was another one of His bricks for me) to see the entire post but the line that struck me the most was, “…to forgo the indecent luxury of self-hatred…”  Wow.

Then I was reading Amy over at Soberbia (still the best name for a blog EVER), and she posted about learning to like herself now that she’s sober.  She’s early in the sobriety game and doing really, really well.  So well in fact that her writing always gets my brain going.  Thank you Amy.

Anyway…I started thinking about where I was in this journey of “forgoing the indecent luxury of self-hatred” and learning to actually like and maybe, dare I say it, love myself.  Have I made any progress?  How much more work is there to do?  Will I every get there?

To which I answered…yes, lots, maybe.

I have, in fact, made a great deal of progress in this regard.  I have begun to forgive myself and, more importantly, realize that I’m not such a bad person after all.  There are days I look in the mirror and think, “not bad for an old broad”.  And times during meditation when I’m actually glad I am who I am.

Progress people…trust me.

More work?  Oh hell to the yeah.  I still have days when I second guess decisions and what I’ve said to someone and whether or not I’m a good mom or friend or wife or whatever.  You can’t erase 45 years of beat downs with three years of being stripped naked, with nowhere to hide and intense introspection.  I’m still battling demons that were born before I was so yes, more work will have to be done.

Will I get there?  Do any of us every get totally to the point where we stop questioning whether or not we’re good and doing the right thing?  Do we ever get to a point where we completely love who we are?  And, more importantly, should we ever get there?  I mean, if we did, what would we have to look forward to.  Then again, we might be more content with what we have.

Oh Lord…I’m making my brain hurt.

Suffice to say that I’m a work in progress but I’m happier with who I am than I’ve every been.  I’ll continue to work on me because I think that’s what God wants me to do.  Prayer and meditation, clean eating and exercise, and lots and lots of love.

Namaste

Having a Moment

I’m sitting here at work “having a moment”.  That’s what I say when I get emotional – that I’m “having a moment”.  See…I brought the last three kids’ senior pictures into the office where I could enjoy them every day.  Now I’m beginning to question my judgement.  Do I really want to sit here everyday and risk a look (it doesn’t happen every time) that sends me into one of those moments?

Yeah…it’s worth the risk.

This particular moment is brought to you by the letter N…for nostalgia.  Or W for…where the hell did the time go.  Or the letter O…for oh shit they’re grown.

It’s not like I didn’t know this was coming, it’s just that sometimes it jumps up and bites you in the ass – usually when you are least expecting it.  I look at these three gorgeous and wonderful young men, the last three at home, and think, “Oh my…we’re done.”  And that’s when I have a moment.

Of course my rational brain jumps in and says, “Whoa Nelly…wait just one minute…you most certainly are not DONE.  Don’t you field insane calls from the niece on a weekly (sometimes nightly) basis that make you want to reach through the phone and strangle her?  Don’t you have a new grand baby coming from the nephew who called you first when he found out he was going to be a dad?  Isn’t yours the house that everyone flocks to over the holidays?  And isn’t your 19 year old still at home with no plans to move out any time soon?”

Well yes but…

But they are all in the adult phase of their lives.  This is when they really begin to pull away and, if we’ve done our jobs right, begin to build lives of their own.  The boys will soon replace me with a wife who, even if they deny it, will mean more to them than I do (especially after their first child is born).  The daughter has already replaced the hubs with someone who is so much like him it’s scary.  (The niece…well let’s just let that one alone shall we?)  That’s the way it’s supposed to be.  It’s the natural order. 

It also sucks ass sometimes.

(I’m really glad only one of my children reads this blog.  I don’t want them to know what a foul mouth their mom has when the filter is lifted.)

I have loved every single solitary minute of being a mother and will continue to do so until my dying breath.  I was made to be a mom.  I have never, not one single time, regretted parenting any of my children.  From the oldest who came into my life at 12 and began chipping away at the hard, outer cover of my heart, to the niece who we parented part time but who can’t see how valuable that relationship is, to the nephew who has come and gone and come back better, to the three who are the only humans on the planet that know what my heart sounds like from the inside.  Every minute, every second has been a blessing and I’d do it again and again in spite of the pain that their pulling away creates…because the joy that they give me every minute they breathe is so much greater than anything else in the Universe.

When I look into their hearts, I see the face of God.

Namaste

Dishwashers and Heart Transplants

I think I’m operating under a little blue cloud here lately.  Believe me when I say they are all “first world problems” (to quote my kids) but when you’re hanging onto your finances by your acrylic fingernails (which may have to go soon – noooooooo) any unexpected expense can send you over the edge.

Our dishwasher died last week.  Our just a little over five years old dishwasher died last week.  Really?  (Note:  Geez alert – I’m about to sound really old.)  When I first moved in with the hubs, we had a set of appliances in the most beautiful shade of Harvest Gold you’ve ever seen (don’t judge – it was 30 years ago).  The only problem was that those Harvest Gold appliances lasted for 20 years!  They outlasted their trend and I was BEGGING them to break down.  When the dishwasher and the refrigerator finally stopped washing and cooling, I cried tears of joy.

The matching washer and dryer lasted another 5 years or so.

But my GE Profile all fancy and shit dishwasher that came with the house just…died.  The control panel went out and it would cost more to fix it than it would to just buy a new one.  The best part is that the repair man came in, pushed a button on the control panel, pronounced it dead and charged us $75.  WTF?  Our new one will be delivered next week.  Sigh…

I’m just really, really feeling the pinch right now and I don’t even do the bills anymore!  (I turned that over to the hubs a few years ago when I needed a break from all that juggling – it’s exhausting.)  We’ve had B’s hospital stay, which we’ll be paying for when his children come to visit me in the old folks home, senior year times two (announcements, cap and gowns, rings, yearbooks, pictures, college apps, testing fees…), appliance breakdowns, car breakdowns, the oldest needs his wisdom teeth out, and oh yeah CHRISTMAS IS ON THE WAY!  Ho Ho fucking Ho.

We are not extravagant people by any means.  We don’t eat out very often.  The hubs clips coupons.  The boys aren’t clothes or shoe hounds and I try to limit my purchases to what I actually need rather than what I want.  We haven’t been on a vacation in over 8 years.

And I have really cut back my spending.  Except for my nails every two weeks and a hair appointment once every 5-6 weeks (cut only…I color my own hair) I try not to spend money.  Some weekends I don’t even leave the house because the pull of Target is just too great.  I can’t go in that fucking store without spending $200 so I try to abstain…I’m good at abstaining.  Because I’m abstaining we save $20 a day in wine which is a shitload of money every month (yes…I can do that math but I prefer not to see it in print).

I’m just venting.  I was never meant to be rich financially because I’m so rich in other ways.  I have an abundance of love to share and it’s shared right back.  I have good health (with the exception of a knee that I totally screwed up exercising), was fortunate to marry my soul mate, have an amazing family and a beautiful home.  I need to shut the fuck up.  God has always provided for me and mine and He always will.  I need to “be still and know”.

Because I wouldn’t trade my life for anything in the world.

Namaste

PS – my son just texted me…he has a second level cavity and his brother has eight superficial ones.  The dogs go to the vet today for their checkup – I’m willing to bet one is going to need a heart transplant.

Okay…I’m back.

And here’s why…honestly…no bullshit.  It was too hard for the hubs to get to my new blog so he wasn’t reading my posts unless I was standing over him.  Since this is the way we communicate sometimes, it’s really kind of important that he sees them.

My kids will be mortified.

So I’m moving my most recent post over here and here I’ll stay.  I still reserve the right to write about any dang thing I want at any dang time I want…but at least I know he’ll see it.

I love you honey.

Namaste