Judging, love and roaring lions.

Is love really enough?
That question has been on my mind lately.  We are taught "love can conquer all".  But can it?  In my life love has come and gone.  Some loves have stayed with me stronger than others and some left as quickly as they came.  Then you must ask...was it really love to begin with?  Love is a delicate word with not so fragile outcomes and meanings.  It shouldn't be tossed around.  It should be considered thoroughly before being decided upon.  I feel like it is often mistaken for other emotions and we think it is love.   Well, that has been my personal experience anyway.
 
Okay, enough deep thought for this post.  What the frig is wrong with people's driving skill or should I say lack of?   I know a big part of the problem...cell phones.  Nine times out of ten if someone is driving like a moron they are either texting or chatting it up behind the wheel.  Sure, it's a great place to catch up but driving and multitasking don't go hand in hand.  Driving and paying (pay attention...pahhlease)  attention do.  Hampton roads, you should try it.

Did you ever just finish cleaning the kitchen to a spotless review and five minutes later you walk in to see dishes in the sink and crumbs on the counter?  It's called having children and it is friggin' annoying!  It is equally annoying when  you finish the laundry and five minutes later there is a hamper of dirty clothes staring at you in the laundry room.  Also children.  

Sometimes, when I am in the heat of an almost "they're gonna have to come take me away" moment there are so many thoughts swirling in my cluttered mind and all I can focus on is that I have gained a   ahem...few pounds and my fat now hangs over my jeans.  Ten pounds ago it didn't.  Ten pounds ago I wasn't this stressed either.  Everything seems exaggerated (including my ass).  By this I mean there are so many underlying big issues that small ones creep up mid-argument and roar out of my mouth like an angry lion.  I swear I can't help it.  All these little things over the last five years come into my current thoughts and I get pissed off at them all over again.  And I explode.  Alan and I are two of the most stubborn people I have ever met.  I am not sure who holds title to it but what a nasty competition.

Speaking of combo's...Jake's diagnosis finally came in, just today.  One month I had to wait.  A four diagnosis combo pack is what he has, written in blah blah blah Doctor terms.  What I got out of it is this:  Dear mom of Jacob, your road to raising Jacob will be long and hard.  Sucks to be you.  We did a bunch of testing which says he is very intelligent but a part of his brain won't allow him to focus long enough to give a flying eff about what is going on.  He'll be onto the next thing that pops into his head and the next and the next.  He will have random outbursts and emotional distresses that he can't control and neither can you.  Negative consequences must be learned over time, cause he just ain't gonna get them now.  His brain won't let him.  Let's medicate him!  
My response: (in my mind)

Dear Doc's,
Me and God?  Yeah, we got this one covered.
Love,
Ang
I don't know how else to get through it but prayer and God.  Well, the occasional glass of wine doesn't hurt, of course. 
Do yourselves a favor and don't judge people.  You never know what is going on in their world.   Peace out.

They have a laugh that makes me smile.

Today Emma came bouncing off the school bus  "MOM, mom guess what?  Me and Jenna were the only two in our class who got all of our test right so Mrs. Mills let us pick out a toy or a candy!"  "We both chose airheads." 

Does anyone else see the irony?   The smart kids choosing airheads...

Emma knows I do not approve of that particular type of candy.  I would like for their teeth to stay in tact, without overpriced fillings.   But ya know, every now and then I suppose it's ok and she did get a one hundred on the test.  Jake?   Jake, Jake, Jake.

God love him.  Monday was testing day for about two and a half hours.  ADHD, autism, aspergers...all of it.  I was allowed to stay back and watch the whole thing.  He has been through this testing before, when he was six.  That time it was at Portsmouth Naval and I have never been made to feel like a worse parent than at the moment when the head of the psychology department pulled me into his office and told me I had a six year old with the worst case of ADHD and ODD that he had ever seen in his thirty years.  I took it like a champ, thanked him politely and walked out and never went back there.  Before making me feel like a heel, he showed me some of the testing that they had done.  The whole time I was shaking my head and thinking there is no way...he knows this stuff.  He is way too smart.  I even asked "ummmm, excuse me but isn't six hours of testing a tad long on even a 'normal' six year old?"  Oh the look I got.  "I'll bet you get real mad at him don't you?"  What the eff kind of question was that?  Then he proceeded to tell me I would have to find a shrink in Chesapeake and get him on medication because ...and these are his words..."that is the only way he can function."  Imagine hearing this about your child.   That fat bastard is lucky I didn't punch him in the nose.  Seriously dude, go to Jenny Craig, what's making you fat?  Do you hide your own insecurities in a biggie size Wendy's meal for supper?  And deodorant is what you would wear to make that smell go away.  I wanted to lash out at him so badly.   I wanted to say these things but instead it was a mere "thanks"  with a blank stare and every ounce of believing in my son holding the tears back that were about to create a waterfall on my face.
And then the waterfall came.  I had managed to get to the stairs and the tears spilled out of me like Niagara Falls.  I ran through the hallways of Portsmouth naval alone, crying, searching for the exit because it's so friggin confusing in there and I knew I had ten minutes to get to the school to pick Jake up and it was at best a twenty five minute drive.   I, of course didn't have the school's phone number in my phone but I called someone and got it.  I felt so alone.  Alone.  Alone.  The reason I was going to be late was because as so many Dr's do - this one got behind by about an hour.  So I had to wait an extra hour to be told I sucked as a parent.  I suspect his intention wasn't to make me feel like a failure but he did.  Jake's teacher had no problem waiting until I got to the school to pick him up.  She was awesome through this whole process and I was lucky enough to have her for Emma as well.  In fact, all the teachers both of my children have had have been amazing and for this I am thankful.  Speaking of teaching....

I try to teach my kids daily.  I wonder, however, if they realize that they are teaching me?  I suppose they won't realize it until they are parents themselves...and I hope they have children just like they are because in spite of all the grief they put me through I love them so much.  Those naughty little misbehavin' children...whatever they are in life I just know they will be great because they had me as a mom.  And God wouldn't have it any other way.
Now then I am off to finish the blackberry pie that needs to bake and grill up some fabulous steaks for the husband who has been gone for about thirty something hours looking at some engine rescue thing in Charlotte for a city that could care less if he continues employment here or not.  No, no overtime, he went at his own will.  Well I guess my opinion of whether or not he should've gone down to check it out is obvious.  But what do I know?  I am just the dame who can cook and keep a clean house (and I must say a maintained lawn) the dog, cat, chickens and people fed and still look this pretty.  Yes dolls, it is so exhausting. 
If you happen to see some crazy looking lady running down the road with a rolling pin in one hand and bottle of wine in the other it could in fact be me....but only if she is screaming wildly.   Enjoy life people, we are here only a short time.  Oh, and if you're wondering I have to wait to find out about the new test results.  They are going to mail them to me.  Apparently parent torture is involved in the whole testing process.  

Supermodel trapped in a stepmother's body.

Searching for the words to write this blog has proven to be quite challenging for me.  There are eggshells I have always walked on since marrying Alan, with certain people.  I'm done.  This time a new level of not giving a shit has entered my being and frankly I have had it.  Hate me if you must, but the truth is the truth.
Apparently, I am being damned for having some friends over Saturday evening and not inviting the whole flippin' family.  I think some people have way too much time on their hands to conjure up the thoughts that this was a direct attack on them.  To be honest, it was decided a day or two before and it was never intended to be a family cookout.  By the way, dear steps, when was the last time any of you invited us over?  I can not believe the level as to which this has been brought on facebook.  Funny thing is, it was so upsetting to them, yet not mine nor my husbands phone rang.  Nope, immediately a typed reaction was sent out for everyone in social media land to lay their eyes on and think "oh...poor so and so."  Give me a break.  I am 38 years old and if I want to have some friends over for dinner and fun I will.  My husband and I chose to ignore the fb bologna and not respond to any of it.  There have been numerous occasions when I have invited only one child and her family over for dinner - I just don't understand the problem.  I guess they forgot.  There have been plenty of times when they have posted on fb about going out and posted pic's.  My thought wasn't...'those little bitches doing this to me..'  Last time I checked I was allowed a life outside my husbands family.
Well, I guess I didn't get the memo that came with the instruction book on how to handle every situation that could possibly arise in a blended family.  So now I am once again the bad guy for having done nothing wrong.  Geesh, you would think with all this scheming I do I would be exhausted.
The title?  Supermodel?  I just liked the way it sounded.  This blog is, I suppose just a retaliation of missiles fired at me.  And yes, some would consider it as bad as blabbing to fb land about what a victim you are.  But I don't.  It's my blog and I'll bitch if I wanna. 
Now then...lookin' forward to happier times!

Why my fave kitchen utensil is a corkscrew...

It annoys the crap outta me when people leave about a tablespoon of peanut butter or mayo on the knife and stick it in the sink.  Seriously.  Then I have to find some old paper towel or something questionable in the trash, scrape it off and clean the sink.  Apparently I have special hands and am the only one who can activate the dishwasher door to open it.  But it's not really about that - it's more about how many flippin' sandwiches could I have made w/ the leftover stuff on the knife?  Groceries ain't cheap these days.  I also dislike when 'people' leave little bits of something in the jar.  Like tuna fish.  Bleh.
 I used to scrub the kitchen floor on my hands and knees every night after all the kids went to bed.  The floor was very light in color and every little spec showed.  When picking out our new floor I made sure I found a color that would not only coordinate with the new counter tops and paint but hide the dirt.  It does a fabulous job.  I no longer scrub the floor every night.  Of course, we don't have as many kids in the house participating in the dirt department either.  I probably sweep the whole downstairs 2 times a day and it seems as though within 5 minutes after doing so the floor is trashed again.  How is it that I will have the counters spotless and sink empty and the next time I walk in the kitchen there are crumbs all over and dishes in the sink?  It tends to discourage a girl and make her just say eff it and not clean.  But then I can't stand not clean so I grudgingly do it myself and hold the anger in.  After just over 5 years that is a lot of built up anger.  Sometimes I feel like I am the maid and  chef not the wife and mother.  The pay sucks.
What doesn't suck is the yoga I have started practicing.  It is important to do things for yourself and be kind to your body.  Sometimes, we the keepers of the house, forget about that.  When I take that hour for myself, usually having to stick the kids in front of the TV so I can, the world looks more blissful when I am done.  Trust me, if you don't take time for you it is easy to start resenting things and people...

A few weeks ago I turned thirty eight.  When I was a little girl and people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up I would always say a lawyer or ballerina or cowgirl.  I never thought to myself "gee, when I am old, because to an eight year old anything over thirty is ancient, not once did I picture myself divorced twice, on my third marriage and children by two different men.  No college education and living in a place I dislike.  Nope, that is not the picture that came to mind.  But that is where I am at.
Isn't it great though, that we humans have this remarkable power to change our situation?  You just have to have the courage.  Fear can be paralyzing.  One day at a time we are trying to set goals, reach them and have the best life we can, my hubby and me. 
Until that comes...there is always wine.  And that, dear friends, is why my favorite kitchen utensil is a corkscrew. 
Oh, and by the way folks, the trash cans don't empty themselves. 

Paragraphs from my not yet titled (or finished) book.

I chose to post this today as what I really want to write would likely cause some anger.  Speaking of anger, on this part of the month long trip I was completely over everything.  They had beat me down.  And we were only just over half way through.


Chapter 9 

Sex?  No, not on this trip.

Ten.  Somewhere around the number ten is how many times I have told Alan I want a divorce thus far on this trip.  Each time it has been induced by Patrick and/ or Jake's behavior and I get to my breaking point and say “FINE.”  “If we are that bad to be around and you hate us that much we will leave upon our return home.”  Speaking of myself and my kids.   I know, not the best way to handle the situation but my give a damn was busted.  Each day that passed I was encouraged more and more to feel this way.  Sometimes I would get mad at myself that I allowed them to bring me to this point.  Sometimes I would get mad that I showed so much anger toward the boys, especially Patrick.  Even though he put me in a position to justifiably feel that way - I am the adult. 

            Before we left Virginia, my friend Shannon told me to just call her and she would Western Union me the money for a bus ticket home for me, Jake and Emma.  She thought I was nuts for doing this in the first place.  She has been through everything with me in this marriage as I met her a week after I met Alan and we became fast friends.  There were times when I seriously considered it.  In the heat of anger it always sounded like a great option.  

            I was having a hard time understanding why Alan chose routes that are so challenging for us in this old RV.  He holds to his claim that he doesn't want to look at interstates all the time.  I love secondary roads too, but in a car without four kids.  I don't remember the last time he smiled at me.  Emma does all the time though.  Keeping a good attitude is becoming such a struggle I am going into shutdown mode.  I think Alan likes it when I give him the “silent treatment”.  He says he doesn't but he's lying.  I wonder if he is questioning what the hell we were thinking about the marriage, trip, everything as much as I am.  When first together loving him came naturally, it was so easy for me.  Now though, it is as if I have to work really hard at it.  Why do things change after marriage?   Why don't people try as hard to make the other happy?  Perhaps if he and I knew this I wouldn't be on number three and he on number four.  Staring over at him I get so damn mad that his facial expression is that of a disgruntled jack ass.  For crying out loud this is an amazing trip we are on and everything around us is beautiful.  I swear if he would change HIS attitude the kids would act different.

            I had no idea where we were even by looking at the map. I have always sucked with maps.   With each slow mile we put behind us we seemed to be getting further away from civilization.  Again, it was nice to see untouched land but having not a clue where I am kind of jarred me a bit.  Did I mention that each time Alan had to “tweak” her he would start by opening the engine cover?   Yup.  Right in our "living room."  So we are already in immense heat, coupled with him not “allowing” us to use the fridge to keep our water cool and then he would torture us with the damn heat from the engine.  Holy crap it was like being in an unwanted sauna.  No, much worse.  It was like he put us in an oven on broil.  The hot water to drink wasn't at all soothing.  Opening the windows only made it worse because then we would have heat coming at us from all directions.  Sweat pouring off us, I began to seriously wonder if this was possibly hell.

20 Years and can still do the running man.

Forty eight hours ago I was on I-95 south in Waterville, just starting the long trip home.  The temperature was cool at this point so it mattered not that the AC decided to quit in my car while on this trip.   Each time I pull out of Mom's driveway, my childhood home, I get jarred back to when I was 21 and pulling out of that driveway "for good."  Heading to Montana in my car with $500.00 to my name and a bunch of dreams on my mind and a huge grin on my face. Oh, and divorce #1 underway.

This trip was especially nostalgic for me, as it was my twenty year class reunion.  Twenty flippin' years.

  I wasn't in the 'popular' click in high school and really thought twice about going to the reunion.  I mean seriously, why would I want to see a bunch of people I wasn't friends with?  Those that looked down their noses at me in the halls of Hampden Academy? Why?  Because I am slimmer than I was back then and covertly hoped they were all fat.  Who needs a better reason than that?   I am also pretty nosy and was curious as to where life had taken people.  I must say, we all look pretty damn good as we are rapidly approaching 40.  Less than half the class showed up.  More did show up for the adults only evening...well I'll say it like it was... beer fest.  For me, being back home, seeing everyone, most I hadn't seen for 20 years, caused me to reflect on where I am at in life.  Am I truly happy?  Am I where I want to be?  Would my children be better off up here?  Are the Red Sox going to take it ever again?  Is that a pimple erupting on my chin?  Why are my husband and I on separate vacations?  Do my gray hairs stand out to them as much as they do to me?  All of those questions ran through my head in like 15 seconds.  No ADD here.

Anyway it was a fun time and I am glad I went.  I was pleasantly surprised by how much fun I had.  And yes, I can do the running man in flip flops. Impressive.  Some of us ended the night (actually morning) at Dysart's for some extra calories in case the million from the beer weren't enough.  I am grateful to all who planned, you did a fab job.  I know how busy everyone is so thanks for taking the time out of your busy lives to make sure we could all get drunk together again.  :) 

We lost 4 of our classmates before graduation.  Over the years I have wondered who they would be if they were still here.  Would they have gone to college?  What would they have named their children?  Now, as a parent I tear up for different reasons then before.  I can't even begin to imagine what their parents, or any parents go through when they lose a child.  Perhaps one of the reasons I have lived life in the fast lane is because they were taken from us so young so I have chosen to live each day to the fullest.  Being content has always been my biggest struggle and I suppose it always will be.  I want to do it all.  I want to see everything.  I have done a lot and seen a lot and have thought of Jamie, Mike, Chad and Robbie in my travels.  I thought of them when I was at Yosemite and Yellowstone and Mt. Rushmore.  I thought of them on my hikes on the Parkway and throughout Oregon.  They have even come to mind while I have been in Vegas.  They all loved life.   And they all are on our minds and living right along with us in our hearts.   "It ain't fair you died too young, like a story that had just begun but death tore the pages all apart..."

Remember how I said I didn't mind the AC being out at the start of the trip?  Well it sucked out loud from Massachusetts on.  Sitting in the flippin' Bronx for  3 hours with the sun beating down on you and no AC just plain sucked.  But I know...it could always be worse.  I try to keep that in mind - when I am in crappy situations...it could always be worse.  And at some points in my life, it has been.

I can't stand his favoritism.  I can't understand it either.  Does this kid have something on him?  Why treat him so differently than all the others? 

Okay, I feel a tad better after typing that.  I suppose it is better than running outside with my apron on, rolling pin in hand screaming at him.  <like I wanna do> We'd make a fabulously entertaining reality show.  Times like these make me wish I had said "I do NOT"  instead of "I do".   I wonder how the preacher would've reacted?  Always it seems to be when one thing sets me off I think of every other little damn thing he has done to make my blood pressure soar and I go into eff you mode, aka shutdown. 

Blended families are difficult.

I don't think I can say it enough.  At first, it's all wine and roses (literally) and then everyone starts to get kinda sorta comfy in this new living situation and BAM.  I'll never ever forget the time when my then 9 y/o stepson (Alan & I weren't married too long) (and this is the one that hates me) well, I had gone to their mom's to pick all 3 of them up.  9 y/o was asking a question..."Angela -slash- Mom..."   We ALL laughed.  "Yes, Patrick - slash- son?"  And it was said just as you are reading.  I think Patrick didn't know what to call me.  Bitch likely would've been his preference.   I think it was at that moment it hit me. I got more on my plate than I can handle.  And oh boy, I had no idea.
 Years later the kid makes it clear that he hates me.  The days ofAngela-slash-mom are gone.  Well the outspoken version anyway.   None of them have a lick of respect for me and the only person I blame is the one who is currently outside angrily weed eating the places of the lawn the mower can't reach.  My dear husband. Ahhh, yes, that would be the one that I just watched throw a cooler across the deck because I had a high chair (for his grand kids) and some grocery store bags I was going to recycle at target - apparently -mistakenly on the deck.  GREAT reason to flip out.   What I would like to say (scream) right now is "Hey Sgt. Pecker head ~ take your attitude elsewhere."  Somehow I refrain.  I am so getting better at holding my tongue.  I hear Emma in the background "hey Jacob, if you want your nose to stop being red just put your Popsicle on it for about 39 times."  Whatever in the hell that means it made me smile. 

Sometimes just to know my children exist is all it takes to make me smile.  Other times, however it makes me frown... When I think about how much worse we could have it I am thankful.  I really mean that.   I understand that I should just appreciate what we do have and not take any breath for granted.  Life is more so precious than it is challenging.  Some days that is so hard to remember.  And some days if I could drill that into his head I would.  Really?   You want to have a fit about some bags and a high chair when I have a niece with a bad heart and brother in law waiting on lungs from a donor?  And by the way, that brother-in-law has 2 young kiddos and needs massive prayers.  Get over yourself, dear husband.  Get over how the yard 'looks' to people.  I mean Jesum Crow we have the nicest yard on Battlefield Blvd.  We win.  Isn't it enough that we win in my eyes?   You can fix anything and I admire you more than I have ever admired anyone...can't that be enough?  I guess it's not.  So we continue...