Time flies...but not always when you're having fun.

What a chaotic mess of a few months.
Work is a trainwreck as usual. Ended Mr. Poly. Friendzoned Mr. Unavailable.
The boys are in flux.
The car stopped last night. Driving home, literally just lost power. I hate car trouble. I just...need things to stay the same. A character flaw of mine.
Not much else to report.
Same ole same ole. Boring Nix.

I'm....

It's been a tough week here.
Work-wise, I've had chaos across the map and it's under my skin. Yesterday I had to fire a driver, which resulted in some pretty big confrontations. Anyone who knows me well knows I don't like confrontation and I tend to avoid at all costs. There was no avoiding this mess. He was up in my face, cussing like sailor and there was no backing down. I seriously thought at one point he was going to throw a punch. Thankfully, it ended with temper tantrums and stomping out but my adrenaline was through the roof, leaving me shaking once I started to come down. And it's put me in a weird head space today.
Well...that and the other chaos in my life.
I have an interest in someone who is extremely difficult to read and he's not forthcoming about what he's feeling, if he's feeling anything. I'm really...confused. We laugh a lot, talk frequently, have sexual chemistry like crazy and yet I feel like he's holding back.
And what is it with me being interested in emotionally unavailable guys?
There are a couple who have more than hinted at wanting to get to know me better and while I've entertained that idea, even gone so far as to really getting to know them and spending lots of time in conversation....the initial closed down fellow resonates with me. I just have to figure out if that resonation comes from an actual connection or my unhealthy need to meet a challenge like this.
I'm...tired. Deep down dark tired. I'm lonely and I miss snuggles.
I'm...being pursued by a man in a poly relationship and while I like this man, I just don't think I'm poly material.
I'm...tired of being in a holding pattern. I want my life to move forward.

People

There was a wedding I was part of last weekend, someone who's become a close friend but one shared by me and Dee. Doing this wedding was difficult as not only did I have to see Dee but I also had to see Dee with her new fiance. I was kind of a mess, all sorts of jacked up. I settled down, made the bride and our wedding party my focus and made it thru relatively unscathed. Lars came as my date and Kenz got an invite so she brought Connor. They kept a running commentary that had me laughing a lot and were just above and beyond supportive of me. That meant so much to me. Nemo was a wreck too. It's the first time he's seen Dee since everything went down with them too and he was scared I think but with the support system we have...it went okay. The groom doesn't care for Dee either, nor did Nicole (one of my besties) who was also in the wedding party and the best man was the groom's brother so in the grand scheme of things, Dee was the outsider in a group of people who see her for who she is. I felt...safe. It was a nice change of pace. I feel like I have a semblance of a community finally. It's kind of amazing.

In other news, the boys are good. Trev is maintaining an even keel. Ry got his license and is buying an Explorer from his gf's parents. Bran is Bran. Still walking thru his life sleepwalking but he's steady and stable so I can't complain.

I think we're going to have to put Reecedog down soon. He's getting so old and he's having a tough time with stairs and getting up and down from couches and beds. He also sporadically is peeing on random things (Ryan's shoes,  my laundry basket, etc) so I'm thinking we're getting close. His sniffer isn't working as well, he has cataracts and he IS nearly 14 now. My poor sweet boy.

Easter

Easter was pretty quiet, boys home but each doing their own thing and me doing mine. It's not the same as it was when they were little but I treasure having them around. I know there's a time coming soon where they won't be, where they will be moved on to their own lives and interests, doings and families and I won't have them so close. 

I was missing home pretty badly. Or rather, I was missing knowing I belonged somewhere. That little knowing in the back of my head that THIS is where I fit. Some of this, I think, was brought on by the news that Dee proposed to the rebound girl this week while they had their very first face to face meeting (as one friend said, MOVE FAST MUCH??). On most levels, I still very much feel like I dodged a bullet there, and this set of circumstances simply made that all the more clear. I guess on some tiny little deep level, my ego took a smidge of a hit. I'm adult enough to admit that it stings a bit to know how little I mattered. Realistically, I know that it's not a direct reflection of my worth but..the unhealthy part of me holds on to that for a bit before letting go. 

She has followed nearly exactly the path she did with me, and I'm not sure what that says about her but it makes me feel foolish and like I missed way more red flags than I was aware I had already.

In the end, I am better off. The stress of being with her, the fighting and the constant walking on eggshells we'd evolved to, the now-apparent ways I completely changed who I was when I was with her...it's freeing to NOT be Dee's gf anymore. 

Maybe we all have twinges now and again and part of being self aware and healing and moving forward in a healthier manner with lessons learned is acknowledging those twinges and then setting them free? 

I wish Life had a guidebook at least, potential pitfalls that may occur along the roads and pathways, and detours to take when you meet them. That would be too easy, though, wouldn't it? And maybe defeat the whole purpose of the venture.

The other side of the "missing" equation is that I do miss some of the family and I miss the familiarity it bred. I didn't always feel accepted and loved there, felt like there were hoops to jump through in order to receive approval but it was still home. Maybe I need a visit home, to refresh everyone in my mind and remind myself of why distance is a good thing. I think we all tend to romanticize things a bit when at a distance like this. Sometimes, though, we have to go home to remember why we left.

Relief

My brother had his triple bypass this last week. I think we were all scared, him more than anyone, but he came out okay, off the ventilator in good time and as of yesterday, was resuming his humor and ornery old man demeanor. I'm relieved. We may not be super close but he's my big brother and I do love him. I worry about all my siblings like a Mother Hen, because it's always felt that's what I AM to them. I hope he continues to make good life choices so we don't have to revisit this place again anytime soon, but it's a relief that he came through and is on his road to recovery.
Dee opted to remove me from both her Facebooks, as well as removing the boys and just about anyone else associated with me, I think. She says it's because she was cleaning out the people she doesn't talk to often but in reality, it was me and my associates because she's readying for a visit with her new girl and wants to protect them or wants privacy. Regardless, she could have been honest because I really wanted to delete her myself but didn't want the drama. While it stung for about .00009 seconds, there was a bigger sense of relief. It feels like I've shed a winter coat in favor of a spring jacket in 60 degree weather. It's ...lighter.
Things with the boys are lighter as well. They are currently at a place of truce, no fighting over stupid video games or inconsequential details just to poke at one another. Ryan is feeling the pinch of having changed jobs and I think he's realizing that maybe it wasn't the best choice to have made but he's taking the adult route and moving forward. Trev's doing okay with his third shift, although it certainly is an adjustment both for him and the household. We don't tiptoe around all day but the flip side is that he also does not tiptoe around all night on the nights he's off. Bran is trying to adjust to his new full time hours but he's struggling a little to find a new norm. Time management is not his strong suit but I have faith he'll get there, with a little extra cheerleading. I guess when I was told a long time ago by my Grams that you have to deal with each one on their own level, she was right.
Work is...work. I was offered a position with ParentCompany, doing essentially what I'm doing now but with added responsibilities of title clerk but taking a pay cut. Granted, I'd have insurance (another expenditure though) and vacation time and NOT have to deal with RabidChihuahuaBoss but I can't afford to lose the kind of money each month this would entail. Not even for the relief of not having him on my back all the time. Onward and hopefully upward, I guess.
I'm sort of at loose ends on the personal end of my life spectrum. Lars and I dance around, enjoying each day as it comes without making any formal declarations of any sort. On one hand I think he very much likes my company and is becoming attached to me but I think he's afraid to hold onto that too tightly. For me, I'm  just not willing to put pressure on anything. I have my own fears, I guess? We have fun. He makes me laugh every single day and while we have had differing opinions on some things, it hasn't reared into an actual disagreement or fight. He's sweet and thoughtful. I guess we have the benefit of time and patience so it's okay not to rush or push into something too serious too fast. It's like an odd sort of boxing but..more pleasant than that sounds. There are things I don't ask and maybe assuming will come back to bite me in the ass but at present time, I'm okay with NOT asking those questions because it allows me some freedoms of my own, I suppose. And after the mess with Dee? I'm gun-shy still. I may be that way for awhile yet and it's a relief to be able to give myself some grace and say it's okay to be that way, but not forever.

Triple bypass

The news back from doctors after my older brother's heart catheter yesterday was not good. He is 95% blocked in his main arterial corridor, 85% and 75% blocked in his ventricles. Kel is facing triple bypass surgery in the next few days. He's all sorts of chaotic feelings right now, which the nurses explained to my mother is very normal: apparently after a heart attack many patients face crazy hormones and chemistry, which causes them to be all kinds of bipolar. Kelly is already bipolar and ADD so this is sending him into a tizzy and they're having a tough time keeping him calm. Mom said yesterday after his cath that they had to stop him from leaving the hospital because he was hellbent on NOT having any surgery. I understand his trepidations, I get that it's a shock but I'm worried he's not thinking clearly. I hope as he adjusts to the situation he calms a little and weathers this. I talked to him last night and he was in turns angry (at the situation, at God, at LIFE), worried (he doesn't want to lose his job, or his house because he's going to be off work for a couple months), scared, and even vain (he's a good looking guy and is disturbed to know they'll be cracking open his chest and leaving a scar! smh). My poor brother is a rainbow of emotions and none of that can help his blood pressure or his poor heart at the moment.
My mom is also a mess, just torn to pieces that there's something wrong with her firstborn and she can't fix it. As a mom myself, I can so understand that. There's nothing worse than seeing your babies in pain and not being able to make it better. Mom also has a very soft spot for my brothers. She'll never admit that but it's truth. They occupy a special place for her.
I think sometimes Life gives us wake up calls, a chance to change our ways or take a different path. A reminder that the purpose of living is to LIVE but not always the way we think.
Heavy heart but hopeful.

Rollercoaster weekend

I guess it was more than the weekend though. It technically was a whole week of rollercoasterishness. (Yes, a Nixism). Work last week was a bear, with an ebb and flow to the actual business that caused a few waves now and again. My boss...HE was the real issue. I think I drove home after work in tears 3 out of 5 days last week, with Friday being the absolute worst. There's nothing like being told, when you literally eat, sleep and breathe your job and put it neck and neck with your family, that it's not a priority, that you aren't good at it, that your boss doubts your commitment and you desire to see it succeed, that you're a liar and he's seriously considering replacing you with someone who cares.
I was so mad, I was shaking. I left work half an hour early because if I stayed, I was liable to say or do something to ensure I got fired. So mad, I squealed out of the parking lot. So mad I burst in to tears before I even hit my car. He's such an ass, upset over something caused by his OWN actions and lack of attentiveness. You can't tell people you're going to call them to rectify a situation then avoid them for weeks on end and expect there to be no fallout and that's exactly what he did. He's...an ass.
I cheered up a bit on Friday after talking with Kenz and Lars and peeps. It was already a hard day because it's the anniversary of my Grandmother's passing (10 years) and I swear I miss her more every day. I think I'm just at a stage in my life where I wish I could talk to her about everything that's going on and get her advice. I feel her absence keenly.
 Saturday brought a few errands, a rainy day that I loved, a BBQ with my drivers and their wives for my birthday on Sunday. They made me tear up. My drivers truly are the only family and friends I have out here beyond my sons. I bend over backwards to make things as easy for them as I can and they mean a lot to me, after 2 yrs working so closely. I've suffered through health issues with them and their children and wives, I've celebrated births and graduations and birthdays. They make me feel like I belong and that means more than I can ever say.
 Sunday dawned with flowers sent to me for my bday from Brandon, a card and a call from my mom with news that my baby sister Sissy is getting engaged. More errands, a tie rod being replaced by 2 of my drivers (thank goodness they were able to!), and bad news: my brother Kelly had a heart attack on Saturday and was taken by squad to a hospital in Cols, where they were going to do a heart catheter in order to assess damage. It's also my birthday and the anniversary of my Great Grandmother's passing. I swear, my birthday is cursed. *sighs* Lars was moody and sad, and all I wanted was comfort of my own so we spend time commiserating.
Lots and lots of good and bad this weekend, with not a lot on the even keel.
Here's hoping the rest of this week goes more smoothly. I think I've had my fill of peaks and valleys.

Respect

Yesterday...was an awful day at work. My boss is a handful on GOOD days and yesterday was far from good with him. He's based in another state so for the most part, I run our office here with the help of my head driver and our branch manager (we work for another company).
Every now and again, my boss decides he's not thrown his weight around enough or that he's not being kept in the loop somehow and becomes a tyrant. Yesterday was one of those days. He called me, aggressive from the beginning of the conversation so it quickly escalated into a full on screaming match. I should never, ever, EVER have that sort of situation with my employer. Like...NEVER. I have decent people skills but dissolved in the face of his onslaught. I'm not proud that I let him get to me but I'm also not going to lay down and let him verbally kick me over and over. The ridiculous part is that after calling me a liar, etc. he realized he was wrong and that he was mis-remembering things but never once said he was sorry or apologized for his behavior. That's inexcusable on a basic human level, let alone as an employer. I hung up on him at one point. I'm just not going to listen to someone go off on me like that about something that is a figment of their imagination. He refuses to listen to reason when he's in that state, like a kettle with boiling water needing to let off steam before the shrieking ends. Once he pops his top, he's a little more reasonable but it's ludicrous that it even needs to be that way. I wanted so badly to tell him to fuck himself yesterday and walk but that's not what a responsible me does.
Because as much as I hate his actions, as much as the disrespect is getting to me, I uprooted my sons from everything they knew for this job. I lost the vast majority of my family over our move here. We've put down roots and I need the money I make at this job in order to keep us afloat. Granted there are a bajillion jobs in Omaha but no guarantees I'll make what I'm making here.
So it's a toss up and a weighing of options when I consider NOT working here any longer.
I just..I want what everyone wants: I want to be able to do my job with the knowledge that I'm going to have basic human respect the same as I offer. 

Days

Yesterday was Brandon's 22nd birthday. I cannot believe he's 22 already! I know every parent says the same thing when their child gets older: "where has time gone, time's flown, how can they be this age ALREADY" and I fall into those ranks readily. I truly cannot believe he's the age I was when I had my last baby. His birth, 6 days before my 19th birthday, changed my life in every single way. His presence in my life saved me on so many occasions. I'm pretty sure without my sons I wouldn't still be here, as horrible as some may think that sounds. There were multiple times in the past that I lived my life for them because I didn't think it was worth living for me.
I had a miscarriage at 16 but it was Bran's birth and his arrival that made me a "real" mom. He taught me the meaning of loving someone unconditionally, what it was like for your heart to live outside of your chest. It was all so messy because I battled postpartum depression horribly and while I loved him desperately, I was drowning in my own demons as well.
Not long removed from the chaos of my family and graduation, still newly married and with a baby at not yet 19. His dad worked third shift so the primary brunt of care fell into my hands and while I was used to caring for kidlets having raised my little brother and babysat to earn money, it was a transition made difficult by the crazy hormones twisting me up in knots. I can't say I was always the best mother. His dad and I began to fight a lot, I was seriously isolated and depressed, with no support system and a husband who thought I was being a baby. Dishes didn't get done, except Bran's bottles. I hated cleaning. I became a shell of what I was. I loved this little baby with every ounce of my being but I hated myself and felt like I was disappearing. Everything imploded, husband and I split, I moved out with nothing but my son and my clothes. We settled into a visitation schedule of two weeks and two weeks which shredded me. I may not have been the best mother at that time but I loved my son and to go two weeks at a time without seeing him crippled me.
That said, I'm pretty sure if I hadn't had my two weeks on with him, I would have ended things and can say I kinda tried. Our custody situation turned brutal and there was a period of 6 months where I didn't see Bran at all, not once. It was one of the darkest times of my life. I took A LOT of Vivarin one night mixed with Tylenol. I threw up until I couldn't anymore and I'm surprised I didn't have any long lasting impact from that, lucky I didn't burn up my damned liver or stomach.
I look back at that time now, having weathered it and am so grateful for my sons. I'm so thankful I made it through the seemingly insurmountable days to come out into sunshine again.
I haven't always been the best mom, have made more than my fair share of mistakes but I've never taken for granted how lucky and blessed I am to have been chosen for them.
Twenty two years a mom and so very proud of the man he's become. Maybe I didn't screw it all up as much as I feared I might. And maybe I'm just a really lucky woman to have been given the ones I was. 

Poker face

I am not the sort of person who is good at hiding my emotions or thoughts. I have the kind of expressive face that gives it all away, that lets people see inside me like I have no barriers. So many times I've been told I wear my heart on my sleeve or that someone can read me like a book and while there are times I wish it were different, that I could keep a little of myself hidden away for protections, for the most part I'm okay with being so open. I guess I like to think that in spite of all the bullshit I've been through and dealt with, that I've managed to keep an open heart. I am a strange mix of child-like and gun-shy, open and scarred.
Boundaries have always been an issue with me. Mine are very fluid, easily moved or smudged. I tend to overthink everything, place others' needs in front of my own and swallow any frustrations or resentments I have because I war with my sense of self preservation vs. my people-pleasing personality. I wish I could stand firm more often but that leads to a guilt that ...I can't always handle. Sometimes it feels like disappointing myself is more easily managed than the disappointment of others.
I don't want to be that way, though. I want to be healthy, with knowledge to my core that it's okay to say no, to put myself first, to not always just take what is handed to me. It's just...not easy. It hurts. And while I know all change hurts to some degree, putting myself in front of others hurts to the nth degree when I know it makes people important to me unhappy in any way.
It's a complex situation that is exacerbated by  my submissiveness, by my  Piscean nature, by my life-long training to be what everyone wants and needs me to be.
Relationships...not having a poker face in a relationship is akin to handing someone a box of matches then setting up kindling all around and putting flashing signs overhead to alert them to where to start the fires. Or at least, in my experience, that's what it's like. Maybe because I haven't had such stellar partners? Rob wasn't so bad, although we tended to fight a bit towards the end. He was probably the healthiest of all my past relationships. I just wasn't. I was fresh out of my dysfunctional family home, fresh out of high school, raw and wounded and trying to heal without any guidance as to how to do so. Dean and Dee we won't even go into. "Submissive" got bastardized into "slave" and "doormat", which I neither want to be nor AM.
I just..want to be happy. Healthy. Able to be assertive, not aggressive, not passive. Able to just be..me. And be loved and accepted for that. It's what everyone wants, right? To know that they can be their authentic selves and still matter, still be valued? I guess I don't understand why that's so hard to find.
Does having a poker face, being able to hold a piece of yourself back, help? 

Fault lines

I'm not a perfect person. I make mistakes, I make bad choices, I stumble and I fall, I hurt myself and others, I damage things sometimes. I overthink things, I have the kind of temper that occasionally flares quickly and burns out just as quickly but other times takes a long time to ignite then burns so hot it's cold. I have a sharp tongue sometimes and can slice and dice without even realizing I'm doing so. I'm impatient with myself, harder on me than I ever will be on others, insecure at times and have a melancholy streak a mile wide. I need as much attention as anyone, but also need my personal space.

I'm flawed. I'm human. I try to be self aware, to take a personal inventory now and again and fine tune the parts that need it. I try so hard to treat other people how I want to be treated and yet somehow, it never quite comes out that way.

I champion the underdog, I'm intolerant of intolerance, I have a kind heart with a gentle soul. I want to matter, I want to know that if something happened tomorrow the people I love would remember that I loved with every ounce of my being and I cared so very much for them. I want to know someone somewhere would mark my absence. 

I've struggled in my life. I know I've caused damage sometimes. I have regrets but I try hard to not have too many. What I've done, who I've been in the past, the errors I made and the bumps in the road have brought me to where and who I am today and I'm a better person for it. 

I wish I could write a letter to each person I've damaged, some of whom are still actively in my life, to explain why I've done some of the things I've done or where I was in my life at the time shit hit the fan but a larger part of me thinks that's counterproductive in a lot of ways. We can apologize for actions, admit we fuck up, give sincere apologies and try to make amends as best we can but we can't wallow in the negativity in our past. We can only move forward. I think sometimes understanding is the hardest part of everything. We all want to know WHY right?

Sometimes, there's just no answer to that question. Or if there is, it doesn't REALLY answer it because even with all the empathy in the world, we can really only see things from our own perspective. 

And maybe that's the lesson. Take no shit yet do no harm.

I'm grey today.

After a weekend overflowing with sunshine and warm temps, I woke up this morning to bleary, grey and cooler temps. Mother Nature is so fickle.
"Yo Yo" seemed to be the theme of the weekend. Ryan decided after I rolled out of bed Saturday morning at the butt crack of dawn that he wasn't going to class and I couldn't fall back to sleep so I bumbled around doing this and that. This resulted in a late afternoon nap that left me smudgy-minded but functional at least, since I had a birthday party to go to for one of my driver's wives. It was nice to get out for a bit, but I'm such a homebody anymore, I literally have to talk myself into going to functions like that. I recognize it's not exactly healthy to have social anxiety of sorts but I figure as long as I'm aware and working on it, that's progress.
The boys had asked friends over for a marathon game of Cards Against Humanity but it was arranged for after everyone got off work and people were tired so it got cancelled. Overall a quiet weekend at home.
Sunday was spent sluggishly, a few errands run. Ry set up his appointment to get his tattoo done. I'm counting my blessings that it's NOT his gf's name or something he might have trouble living down when he's 80. I don't really understand the symbol he's having done but it doesn't really matter if I DO, it's his body and needs to mean something to him. If he's going to get a tat, at least it's something semi-sensible-ish. (Yes, a Nixism.)
I returned a few things to Dee over the weekend and promptly got chewed out for it. I'm so done with her thought process that it's okay to be an ass to me. I'm no longer hers and therefore she's lost the right to snap at me. I'm just... done.
Today...today is the anniversary of my stepfather's death. In my head he's still this flawed, larger than life giant of a man, all bare chest (he hated wearing shirts) and long dark hair and limpy walk due to his prosthetic leg. The Daddy who called me his Munchkin, who smiled at me from behind tinted glasses and would run his huge hand over my white blonde hair like I mattered. The Daddy who was in and out of prison all through the time I had with him, from choices and demons he just couldn't make better. The Daddy who's heart I ripped out at 11, because I refused to allow him to adopt me, instead letting my fairy tale soul believe that some day the man who donated his biology to me might come back on his white horse and claim me. The Daddy who could make me giggle, who indulged my love of reading, who would twirl his handlebar mustache and laugh at me when I was being a goof. The Daddy who beat the hell out of my mother in a drunken rage every weekend, yet was so wise and book-smart through the week that I could have long conversations about novels and stories and Life with him. The Daddy who picked me up out of a pool of blood off the floor when I had a miscarriage at 16 and nearly died from hemorrhaging, who sat at my bedside and cried because he almost lost me. The Daddy that was a biker at heart and at play and yet so gently helped my 1 yr old son stand and learn to crawl and walk because I didn't have any other babysitter.
The Daddy who came to see me the day he died because I'd had another miscarriage at 20 and he wanted to make sure I was okay. The Daddy who was stopped by a deputy after leaving my house because I wasn't home. The Daddy who had been drinking a beer and knew that he faced going back to prison because he was on probation. The Daddy who gave the deputy his library card and his expired license then took off, starting a high speed chase through back roads. The Daddy who took a corner too fast, rolled the car he was driving and hit a tree, breaking every bone in his neck and dying.
I don't remember a lot of the day my mom called to tell me he was gone. I was at work in the greenhouse, called into my boss's office where he very somberly handed me the phone. I remember hearing my mom's voice and wondering why she was calling. I remember her words..."Bob's been in an accident and he's not okay". I remember asking Bob WHO? and when she clarified, telling her I didn't think this was a funny joke. I remember sitting down on the floor suddenly, when it hit  me what she was saying. I do not remember the rest of the convo. I do not remember my boss taking the phone. I do not remember much about the drive home, other than the music playing: The Crow Soundtrack. It has always been one of my favorites and oddly, still is. I remember walking in the front door and down the stairs, trying to wake my husband who had worked 3rd shift and was sleeping. I remember crying until I couldn't breathe. I don't remember the next few days at all.
I remember meeting at my mom's to tell my little brother. I remember his rage. I remember tears from all of us. If you ask him today, he hasn't cried about it since. I don't know if he can.
I remember speaking at his memorial. Closed casket, a picture that was so very HIM: all dark hair and eyes and warrior-like bearing. I remember tears flowing while I tried to tell these people who didn't know him like I did what a mish-mash of contradictions he was and how much he mattered to me. I remember thinking no words could ever fully describe the hole I had in my heart.
I will forever wonder if he would have continued to mellow with age, if he might have conquered those demons he fought. I watched how he was with my oldest son, before I ever even thought of the younger two and will be forever grateful I was given the glimpse of the grandfather he was going to be to my boys. I will never forget the lessons he taught me, good and bad. They've formed a lot of who I am now. I miss him. I miss his humor. I miss his intellect. I miss feeling safe, because ironically in light of the abuse that was rampant in my childhood household, he was the only man I've ever felt safe with. I think as an adult our relationship would have been a different chapter than my childhood and I mourn that lost possibility.
I hope he's found peace. And I hope he's proud of me and knows how much he was loved. 

Because I'm happy...

Not much of a title but it IS a song lyric, one that's been running through my head today.
I really AM happy.
Moving to Omaha was a huge step for my little family. I was petrified I was making a gigantic mistake, that we'd end up having to go back to Ohio with tail between legs, broken and broke. Terrified the boys would be unhappy, friendless, unable to adapt to life here. All kinds of scared and second guessing but it's been one of the best decisions we have made as a family. And it really was a family decision: I sat the boys down, we discussed pros and cons, I was 100% honest in all respects and it was a choice we all voted on. Thankfully, it was a group decision. I can't imagine if Bran had decided to stay back in Ohio. It would be like missing a piece of my heart.
They've settled in well, made friends, have jobs, have made this home and that makes my heart so happy.
For the most part, I have too. There are still things to work on: I don't have a friend group outside of work really and I'd really like to explore Omaha a bit more, move outside my comfort zone but time will bring that. Financially, we've never been in as stable a place and it's nice to not have to rely on anyone for help to stay afloat. Independence is hard won for me sometimes and the place I'm in at the moment is a good one.
I've had heartache this last year, ending my relationship with Dee. It's not what I wanted but I think it was not completely unexpected. I knew going in there were issues but I'd hoped we could work through them. Unfortunately NOT the case but in the big picture, we're both better off. Too much fighting, not enough communication, both of us miserable is NOT a good place to be.
Sunshine is flowing inside and out today and I'm making the most of it. I have friends who love me, sons who are healthy and happy and whole, a guy who's become a very close friend with a hint of perhaps something more somewhere down the road, a job that is (for the most part) stable and something I love....Happy is a nice change of pace.

Hope

Hope is a fragile thing.
When the boys were small, my hope was that because they were close in age and because I was raising them as a unit, that maybe they'd be close. My hope was that they would have the sort of sibling relationship I never really had with any of mine, largely caused by the age differences.
My hope...has and has not come to fruition.
If you take them in certain groups of twos, they are close and get along well. There's one set of two that never works and that is Ryan and Trevor together. I don't know if it's because there's only a year between the two of them or if it's because of the personalities involved or a combination of all of those factors but they don't get along all that well. If you ask Ryan, he has NO relationship with Trevor and has no feelings for him at all, no attachment at all. Trevor, because of his Asperger's Syndrome, can't really give a clear-cut idea of his level of attachment to Ry.
And it breaks this mom's heart just a little, to allow that hope to die it's death. I think sometimes you have to stop having an expectation or a hope and deal with the reality of the situation and that's where I'm standing when it comes to these two younger boys of mine.
I don't know if they'll ever be close. I think Ry has a lot of resentment towards Trev because he's always felt like he was the older brother and also because Ry tends to lack empathy. It's something I've fought since he was small, trying to instill in him some sort of compassion for others so he doesn't end up a sociopath or freaking serial killer. It's been a battle that's had minor triumphs and myriad losses.
Neither of these two are bad people, just maybe they don't mesh well and that's something I'm still struggling to accept.
Brandon, as oldest, tends to buffer them. It's reassuring in a lot of ways to know after I'm dead and gone, he'll be there for Trevor because with Trev's autism, he's easily swayed and easily taken advantage of. I just wish Ryan could mature enough to the point he can be not so obstinate and aggressive in his stance towards his brother.
Again, maybe that's just a refusal to accept a dying hope.
I have other hopes, some unrealistic in the face of my past experience. I don't need a husband or wife to be happy but I want one. I have always held some tender little hope in my heart that somewhere, somehow, there's someone who will love and accept me for me, someone who will let me love them back, someone who will decide I'm a keeper.
In the big picture, I don't believe in fairy tales, I know relationships are always work and I know that there's no such thing as a knight in shining armor but deep in a corner of my heart, I hope there's someone who wants to be that for me. Maybe that's why I keep picking up the pieces of my smashed little heart and dusting them off after each and every failure in love I've had. I want to matter. I want to know there's someone in the world who looks forward to my existence as much as I do their's. I hope that someone, some day, will look at me and love me, flaws and all.
Hope...fragile. And persistent.

Perspective

The older I get, the more I realize how very important perspective is. Our outlook changes everything. I read somewhere that when you focus on the negative, that's what you attract and while I don't know if that's wholly true, I can say that, for me, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy: when I focus on the negative, it's literally all I see. All the positive little flares of light are dimmed and fall out of view and I become steeped in the dark and gloom. I don't know if this is true of everyone or if I am blessed with a streak of melancholy but what I've come to believe that I also need these "down" times to resurface into a mind-space of appreciation and joy. I need introspective moments in order to re-evaluate ME and refocus on my blessings. Maybe it's that age old yin and yang thing, where you have to have bad to balance the good and for comparison.
Life today is on an upswing. The weather is having a break, with temps expected around 60 for the next three days and anyone who knows me, knows that Spring and Fall are my absolute favorite times of year. Again with the comparison/yin and yang. Rebirth in the Spring, fresh blooms, greening up, sun-kissed days neither too warm or too cold, the scents of warm earth and clean air. Laying to rest in the Fall, crisper air and temps, russets and oranges and plums, like we're putting the world to sleep for a bit.
The boys are holding steady: Bran has finally given up on Morgan (I think) which is a good thing for him. She's had him in a holding pattern for far too long in my book and it's time for him to start branching out and exploring his life on a real basis. Trev continues to be Trev, sometimes anti-social, sometimes a social butterfly. Ryan is restless, I think. He's looking for a new job because he's become dissatisfied at his current position. Seems restless with school too. I think he's feeling the need for some forward movement.
On the Nix front, I've spent some time recently talking with a very sweet man named Jason. No rush, no push, no expectation, just enjoying each other's company. I like him. He makes me smile and we laugh together every single day, which is a nice change of pace. I hope I make him smile too, and that seems to be the case. It's nice to be a source of sunshine in someone's life. I'm rebuilding the friendships that went fallow while I was with Dee and that's a good thing too. Lesson learned: no more ignoring red flags and no allowing someone to isolate me from those who only have my best interests at heart. While I can put some of that on Dee, I have my own culpability with it all. I allowed it to happen. I picked the wrong battles there. Work is chaotic as always but it's the nature of the business. I actually really thrive on the juggle of it all, the puzzle it presents.
It feels like a rebirth of sorts...and maybe it's because my perspective has shifted. 

NOT an Eff Bomb Friday

Most weeks, Friday is one of my favorite days. Not only because it's the end of the week and the beginning of the weekend but typically because I know when I go home, I'm home for the evening. My sons typically find a ride home from work on Fridays which means once I'm home I can get comfy and just chillax. Being pretty much a homebody, this makes me a happy camper. 

Most Fridays are a joyous day, no matter what slams into them, simply because they are, indeed, Fridays. I know the end is near and it takes a lot to tarnish that shine for me.

Some Fridays are what I call Eff Bomb Fridays, where a terrible no good very bad week culminates in an even worse Friday and it seems I just wanna chuck it all in the fuck it bucket.

Thankfully, today is NOT one of THOSE Fridays. And that, folks, is a miracle of epic proportions after the kind of week I've had work-wise. 

I think I'm keeping things in perspective better this week with the help of a pretty major accident one of my drivers was involved in. I'm thankful that he's alive, that the other driver is alive and that while injuries DID occur, they are manageable. The day of the accident I did like a lot of people do: I went home, hugged my sons, told every single person I care about that I love and appreciate their presence in my life, Facebooked it and then had a pensive, sad moment before bed then had trouble sleeping. That's what everyone does when something like that drops in their laps, right?

Yea...probably not all of it anyway. It's stayed with me this week, though. I have made a conscious effort this week to pay attention even more to the positive things in my life, to appreciate what's in front of me every day and to make sure my loved ones know how much they mean.

Life is short. I know this and I accept it. I work hard to be appreciative of what I have in my life but sometimes...I lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel or maybe it's just a matter of losing focus. 

This week is not one of those. And this is NOT an Eff Bomb Friday. 

Instead, it's a Friday filled with sunshine (albeit a cold day, the sun warms me from inside my heart, out). It's a Friday filled with a chaotic job that I mostly love and a boss who happens to be in town from Denver to drive me a little batshit crazy but just reminds me that I'm lucky to have a job and how peaceful things are when he's away. It's a Friday filled with a small motley crew of good friends and occasional family members, people who get me and know me and love me in spite of my many, many flaws. It's a Friday filled with an inner peace, my calm in the face of the stormy week. 

It's a good place to be. 

Valentine's Day and a restless spirit.

This time of year is rough for a lot of people, I guess, with the ending of the Christmas season followed by Valentine's Day, all wrapped in a cold white coat of Winter. I can't say I'm any different. Valentine's Day is a mixed bag for me. My little sister's birthday which is something I celebrate and a reminder that I'm apparently  not a keeper, which I obviously do not celebrate. Dee got mad at me for saying I'm not the kind of person who inspires others to romanticism or big gestures but it's how I feel. In truth, I don't really need grand gestures but I guess every woman at some point enjoys them...hell, I'd be happy with LITTLE gestures. Maybe just a reminder that I count and matter to someone, somewhere.
This melancholy that's so pervasive right now with me gets shattered by random oddities, like the cotton candy sunrise I saw on my way to work: pinks and purples finger-painted across the sky like Mother Nature was letting her inner child out to play. Or by the sound of my aging Reece-dog snoring like an 80 yr old man, sprawled out next to me on the couch dreaming his doggy dreams and waking only long enough to raise his head, look at me with bleary eyes, then plop back down with a sigh.
The sounds of my sons laughing raucously in the basement family room with friends while playing Cards Against Humanity, a sound I hold near and dear to my heart because so often anymore the rooms of my house ring with a quietness I'm not used to.
A song unexpectedly on the radio or Spotify at work, blooming memories in my head of times with the boys in the car or concerts enjoyed with friends or happy pieces of my puzzled life.
I miss companionship. I miss cuddles. I miss conversations with someone who gets and accepts me as me, not some version of me they've concocted in their head. Beyond having a significant other, I miss feeling...ALIVE. I'm not depressed, really, just sort of in a holding pattern it feels like. Like I'm a Boeing 747 making laps in the air space above, waiting for my turn to land, not crashing, not rising, just maintaining altitude and watching out for the random bird or call from air traffic control.
I miss having friends to do things with and at 40..how do you MAKE friends? It's not like kindergarten where you could walk up to the little girl with pigtails like yours and ask to be friends or the boy with the scraped knee who rides a bike you covet. I have my online friendships that I cherish but I can't morph them through the computer to come lounge on the couch with me and binge watch American Horror Story or Downton Abbey. I can't wave my magic wand and enjoy a new restaurant with them over drinks and giggles.
Maybe that's the crux of it all, this isolation I feel. I knew moving here would bring that but perhaps I hoped that it wouldn't be a lengthy thing. And maybe the realization that it is...is leaving me more than a little at loose ends. Combine that with my mid-life melancholy and you have a perfect storm of moody me.
It makes me want to smack my own self out of it. And that...made me snort and laugh out loud.