I am a bad sister.

I spoke to my sister last night. Generally, I don't take her calls unless I have to. While I love her and I want only good things for her, her life is all about drama. There is always something and frankly, I just don't have the energy for it anymore. I spent many years being a stable adult figure for her young children when she went through her first divorce. I would drop anything I was doing if she called and said "I need you". My life pretty much revolved around hers and I look back and think "How the heck did I do it?" Oh wait, I didn't really have much on my plate. No kids, a good job, a great boyfriend. I was just a kid myself, really.

So it was an ok conversation last night. I mean it was the usual where I don't get a word in edgewise and she does all the talking except for the occasional "Uh huh" from my end, but it wasn't the earth shattering, my life is falling apart stuff. I can handle that. I mean, Chris wasn't home, we had eaten dinner rather late even for us and the kiddos were eating their ice cream so I had a few minutes. All is good - we hang up the phone and life goes on until this morning...

I open my email after I do my web browsing in the morning while drinking my coffee right before I sign off to get laundry done or the kitchen clean or whatever else I think I must do at the moment. Today there is an email from my sister. Ok. I open it because it looks fairly innocuous. (ugh). She has had another "discussion" with her current husband (after our conversation last night). In my eyes, he's a friggen' idiot who I have zero respect for, but remember I've only heard one side of the conversations and my tie is with my sister. She tells me that he "hates" her - that he said this. That during this intense conversation about their life he gets up, takes a shower and goes to bed. She's now left him. Taken his credit cards and some keys. And is she a bad mother for wanting to only take Olivia? - because see they adopted a sibling pair from Cambodia and Simon - the oldest -, well, he has some serious mental issues...like they've been told he has severe attachment issues and is likely a sociopath. Are you kidding me?! What the hell am I supposed to say? Oh and for clarification, her 4 children from her first marriage are all fully grown adults. All over the age of 21, don't live at home.

As callous as this sounds, I don't care. Do whatever the hell you'd like, but leave me out of it. I can't go there. I find it incredibly selfish that life should revolve around these issues that she and her hubby are having. Either get some counseling or cut bait, but why keep going around and around on the same damn issues for years and years and years. WHY? I also have already gone this route with her. While I don't wish anything bad, I just want to be left alone about it. And please, PLEASE don't move back to CT and bring this bunch of horse poop with you! I don't want my kids involved - I don't want myself involved. Get your shit together on your own and figure it out. Ah, what I wouldn't give to be able to say this, but you know what? I would never. It would never cross my lips.

So I am stuck between really wanting to tell her to grow the fuck up (sorry for any virgin ears) and being the strong, stable person in her life. In many ways I feel like I owe her. She became my mother figure when she was 15 and my mother decided that she was done with my father. My sister stepped up and ran an 8 room colonial with an alcoholic father, a 5 year old sister and an older brother who was just about out of the house (our eldest brother had recently got married). That's a tall order for a girl just a year older than my Rebecca. She did it. I love her for it. I guess I wonder when it is ok to let go. When have I paid my dues for that because I feel incredibly guilty every time I think she needs to "get a life".

Now for the record, I don't have the perfect life. I mess up regularly. I am flawed. BUT, I have a good life. I am continually in awe of the blessings I have. Beautiful, healthy kiddos. A kind, loving husband who is also my best friend. A MIL & FIL who love me like their own daughter. A nice house on a nice piece of land. A brand new vehicle. A gym membership. Health insurance. You see...I could go on and on and on at all the GOOD things in my life - although I know it isn't perfect. I guess I wonder why some people only find the flaws and others focus on the good. I mean, seriously, there are lots of not so pleasant things (mainly money related) that happen in my life, but for the most part, it could ALWAYS be worse. Someone else always has it worse than I do somewhere.

I just don't know how to deal with this although I know I cannot get involved with it to the extent that I have been involved before. So what do I say? How do I stay somewhat supportive without being swept away....

Why you shouldn't clean your bedroom.

And I'm sure you're asking "Why?"

Well, you put things in "safe" places when you clean your room. Unfortunately, at my age, it is safe from myself and unsafe from the many children running around the house. (I'm really out of practice at thinking like a 2yo)

I cannot find the &^%$#@( treadmill key. NO WHERE. It is really making me angry because lets face it - At 4:00pm, I'm not going to get to the gym today and with a dinner date, I'm not going to get to the gym tonight. Especially if the dinner hosts ply me with wine. I won't even want to walk across the street to my house - never mind getting in my car and driving 15 minutes to the gym. I mean, I even took my towel off the treadmill and moved Em's toys so I could put it in the proper position. GAH!

While I am feeling particularly lazy and my shin is still hurting a tiny bit, I really should get at least 30 minutes in. One half hour wouldn't kill me and in fact, it will make my heart beat a little bit better, right?

I guess I'll just go away and sulk...

I think I overdid it and other ramblings

I woke up with a pretty sore shin this morning. I had been so excited that my periods of jogging were getting longer (the cardio is so easy to see progress) and faster (was up to 4.5 mph) that I didn't pay much attention to my shins when they were tightening up. If you run harder, they feel better...

I know I get shin splints from walking and I definitely get them from running. Doesn't matter if I am on the road or the treadmill, but I pushed myself anyway. You know why? Because it burns more calories than the "easier on my body", much preferred, elliptical machine. :( While my main concern is/was my blood pressure, I wanted to magically lose 10lbs in my first week. I know, I know....so ridiculously unattainable. I'm trying really hard not to set those unattainable goals because I really think that is what sets me up for failure each time I've tried to do this before. I am trying to focus on overall health and let that weight issue fall where it may, but it sucks. It really sucks. I want my clothes to fit. I want to put away those clothes that I've had to buy in the last 4 years and wear the clothes that I wore before I got pregnant with David.

While my body was not as thin & lithe before I had David as it was after having Jeremy & Rebecca, it was within a healthy weight for my age and I felt good about it. That is a pretty magical feeling...being comfortable in your own skin. I think that was probably one of the only times in my life that I felt confident in myself. It showed on the inside & the outside. I was so happy. Chris and I had discussed being done having kids and I was ok with it. I had AFs that came every 28 days and I knew when I ovulated every month. Everything was organized & spot on in life. And then...then one month my AF was late. I took a test and sure enough, David was on his way. Funny how life changes so quickly.

So anyway, I'm trying hard not to put ridiculously unattainable goals on myself. Slow and steady...slow and steady. That must become my new mantra. It is easy to say, but oh so hard to follow.

Tell me why I don't like Mondays...

Ah, The Boomtown Rats...did they sing any other songs because really that is the only one I know.

I actually am ok with Mondays except for the fact that Chris goes back to work on Mondays. I don't like that. I miss him. I miss the help with the little people. I know I can do it all myself and do it well, but it still is helpful to let some of the fretting be done by someone else.

The weekend was good. In fact, it was better than good. Saturday was exactly what fun I thought it would be. We spent the day at the home of Chris' high school friends. They had a "mini high school reunion" because one of their classmates was in CT visiting from TX. So it was agreed upon that the daytime part of the party was family time. Great, we took Jeremy, his friend Andrew (who is my "other" son as they've been friends since 3yo preschool) and David with us. Becca stayed home babysitting the middle boys and the napping Emma. I would have liked to bring Emma, but knew if she did not nap, I'd be SO screwed that night with sleeping. It was unusual for the older boys to come along, but there were some bikini clad teenage girls that they knew. Teenage boys never say no to bikini clad teenage girls - even if they do have a girlfriend.

So we spent the seemingly hottest day of the year drinking our Corona's and milling about with the high school friends eating TONS of yummy food. It was a great day. Everyone had a good time and it only took the teenage boys about 3 hours to finally speak to the bikini clad teenage girls. After that, they just hung out. David played with the various kiddos, asked perfect strangers to give him rides around the yard in the wagon and then found a small toy front loader and dump truck and played in the dirt until he was brown and it was almost 9pm. And we had to leave - well, because we were almost out of beer and the package store (liquor store for those not familiar with new england-ese) was closing at 9.

So we left, hit the package store and brought David home where we put all the children under age 10 to bed. It was then that I sort of power napped during an episode of Dora. I started to feel the effects of being on my feet all day and was fading fast even though I knew it was time to go back to the party for the adults only time. So I forced myself to get back up off the bed, changed into a comfy tshirt and some different flip flops (thank you sara - having 4 pairs of j.Crew flip flops is SO important). Even though it was adult time, we took the two teenage boys back with us. I figured if Chris and I both drank a bit too much then Jeremy could easily drive us home all backroads without much issue.

Well this is when the real laughing began. The host of the party has been friends with Chris since they were little boys. He is a hoot. Even more so when he's had a few drinks. Usually he says things that embarrass his wife, but this night it was my turn to be his target. I don't embarrass easily so it was all good. He had me peeing in my pants by the end of the night. Let's just say I earned the title "Materialistic Biznitch" even though that is SO not me. Even Jeremy & Andrew thought the night was a good one. Finally around 2-2:30am, the party broke up and seeing I hadn't had a beer for hours and hours (I got one when we got back to the party, but drank maybe 1/3 of it and dumped the rest), I took the keys and drove us home despite Jeremy telling us all that we were intoxicated and that he should really drive.

We probably fell asleep sometime around 3am and I enjoyed the fact that Sundays are Chris' day to get up with Emma and that I would be able to sleep in a bit. Especially lovely when you are at a party until the wee hours of the morning! Well, he got up with Emma alright...and promptly came back to bed with her in tow. The quiet lasted for about 1 millisecond and then she wanted Dora on. And then she wanted to get down. And then....all hell broke loose. She stole one of David's socks (who literally gets up, has breakfast and then dresses himself - never ever deviates from this plan). So she had David's sock and was on my side of the bed and they were screaming at each other with me hiding my poor tired head under my pillows trying to escape - cursing Chris silently for being lazy - and then it happened. My cup of cold water next to my bed was in my bed! I was laying in a pool of cold water in which my arse moved so fast out of the bed that I forgot that I was butt naked. So here I was screaming, butt naked, eyes not quite open looking for some pajamas. THANKYOUVERYMUCH, EMMA! Chris, of course, said all the proper I'm sorries and then left to get milk for breakfast & coffee leaving me with the little devils who had disturbed my precious Sunday sleep in.

Sunday ended up being a good day even though it started a bit rough. We had a date at Home Depot in which I looked at paint colors for our bedroom (we've decided on "beachy" colors as they are so calming/relaxing) and Chris bought a drill he needed for work. Then we hit the grocery store to pick up a few things as his parents had called and we were having them for an early dinner. When we got home, I went upstairs, took off my skort, threw on PJ bottoms and took a long, leisurely nap and woke just in time for his parents to walk through the door. I cut some cheese up for cheese & crackers, made the salad w/my MIL and then walked down to the garden where my first zucchini was ready for picking and picked some of the sugar snap peas to add to the salad. We had an easy meal of hot dogs, hamburgers, salad & fruit and then ate some yummy UConn ice cream, watched Emma & David get filthy and the dogs run around. Chris' parents left and we had everyone bathe and go to bed. Unfortunately, days like that make Mondays that much harder because I don't want them to end.

So on to the week...on to the gym (gah) and doctor appointments...and well, regular, everyday life.

At the top

So let's see....I guess I'll just write about life. Not terribly exciting, I'm afraid, but all I've got.

Jeremy, our eldest, is scheduled to see the pediatrician on Wednesday. I'm a bit worried. First off, he actually asked to see the doctor. That throws alarm bells up in itself, but after speaking with the doctor yesterday, I'm really concerned. Seems as though Jeremy cannot tolerate strenuous exercise. My most athletic, sports loving child gets dizzy and almost passes out if he does any type of aerobic exercise for any length of time. I took him to the gym with me the other day and he rode a stationary bike for about 20-25 minutes and then had to go to the men's locker room where he laid down in a private changing stall because he felt like getting sick & passing out. When I mentioned this to his pedi yesterday at Em's 2yo visit, the doctor immediately told me that Jeremy is not allowed to play any sports of any kind until we get to the bottom of this. Furthermore, he will be seeing a cardiologist. Then the doctor showed me a checklist of things that could indicate a heart issue. That, my friends, was very scary since I could have checked more than one thing off in regard to Jeremy.

Now my favorite kids' doctor would never try to scare me on purpose. We've had this pedi for over 16 years and there is a relationship of mutual trust between us which is key. The doctor is most concerned that my beautiful, almost adult son should not drop dead at 20yo from some undetected heart defect and I can totally appreciate that. In fact, I can't express how much I appreciate that.

While this particular 16yo can be SUCH a BUTTHEAD and drive me literally insane sometimes, he is most like me. He is introverted, but smart, witty, fun - you just need to get past his shy exterior (and trust me when I say, it isn't easy). He is going through that period of time where you start to try and find out who you really are. What means the most to you. It's like watching a butterfly leave the crysallis really. While I would love to take credit for who this boy is, my firm belief is that he is responsible for that. God sent him to me to raise and while I haven't always done a good job at it (in fact, I've sucked SO many times), I have always loved him. Always. And I am extremely proud of him. Extremely. Even when his report card showed he passed Geometry & Biology with D+'s this year, I was still proud. I know his soul...I know who he is. That is the part that makes me proudest because I'd like to believe our love for him has made him empathetic, caring....(Did I mention that this is the boy who makes his Mom breakfast in bed EVERY mother's day? And I mean a FULL breakfast - eggs, toast, fruit, juice, coffee - since he was about 8 or 9...) I know he loves me - even when he is full of teen attitude, spit and vinegar.

So yeah...next week can't come soon enough. I hate the not knowing more than anything else.

A new start?

I have friends. REAL friends. At first they were just IF's (Imaginary Friends/Internet Freaks), but now they are my LFF's. And really, while I call them IF's, they were so close to my heart before this meeting. The nightly chats were SO much fun. So, we all converged in Boston. Well, not really BOSTON - just on the outskirts really - in a town that my great uncle lived in. How weird is that?! He was a Christian Science preacher - betcha didn't know that did ya? And he gave the blessing at my wedding - I have it on video in case anyone wants to see.

So back to these friends - my LFF's. They did something for me and I'm not sure if they even realize it. For the first time ever, I feel likeable. I feel like I am worth something. I truly believe that I have something to offer that another woman actually would want in a friend and I don't have to change who I am! I have FOREVER sucked at making girlfriends. I have always gravitated towards men because they were easier for me to befriend. Guys don't come with a lot of drama, but they also don't always understand the way the female mind works. Big drawback. They also don't get AF, but that is more of a physical difference, anyway....

Anyway, so when I got home from this epiphanic (is that a word?) weekend, I decided to start changing some things in my life that I've grappled with for the last couple of years. One is my weight. In my late 20's and early 30's, it really didn't matter too much. It didn't affect me any more than I had to buy bigger clothes. As age creeps up on me (a little too fast I may add), it is starting to affect my overall well being. High blood pressure - high cholesterol - diabetes. All very real possibilities for me. I've got a 2yo. I still have a lot of work to do! So I joined the gym. $10/month, no contract, with a $20 start up fee and a $39 yearly fee. Ummm, yeah. No brainer. I've gone every day in the last week except 1. At a doctor appointment on Monday, my blood pressure was great compared to the last couple of times. That folks paid for my membership itself. Today I haven't gone yet, but I figure I could actually use my treadmill in my bedroom later or take one of the dogs for a walk around here instead. It's been incredibly busy with Safety Camp for David and Em's 2yo Well Baby check up.

I have other plans too. Like starting some courses at the local community college. Before I start though, my hubby would like me to speak with a local soil scientist to make sure this is really something I want to do. I think it is, but he's probably right. He usually is (and DON'T tell him that or I'll never be able to live with his big, fat head). Eventually, I'd like to actually add income to our family instead of just using it all up. By the way, if you'd like to read my money saving ideas, check out my latest post on BZ's HT: http://www.babyzone.com/community/Posts.asp?tpc=11869065&brd=407#11871582 (my s/n is trkeylips if you're not familiar).

So thank you to my awesome LFF's. You all showed me something that I didn't know I had in me. Thank you also for just liking me - quirkiness and all. I love you guys - muches & muches - always & forever. Oh and like one of these awesome friends said - unconDIRTionaly! :)

How did THIS happen?

No one knows that I have a blog so I'm pretty safe writing whatever here. One one hand that makes me feel incredibly alone, but on the other hand it makes me feel safe. I can say what I want about who I want without any fear of anyone ever finding me.

Right now, I am feeling incredibly alone.

You know raising 6 kids takes a fair amount of energy out of a person - out of a marriage. I've been feelings less than content since number 6 was born. Some days I feel beyond blessed, but many days I feel overworked, underpaid and alone. Hubby is a good guy and I don't want this blog to turn into Soap Opera Central or a big Hubby Bash, but while I know he loves me (or is it really just "stuck w/me"), there isn't any magic happening between us. By the end of the day I need some adult companionship and he's pretty much ready for supper and sleep. Not much time for us, you know? And when there isn't time for "us" or "me", we fall into a rut.

I don't know how to get out of this rut. It's becoming a dark place for me. It scares me to feel feelings that I haven't felt since being a teenager locked inside life w/an alcoholic father. My kids are too good for a mother who can't get her shit together. God in heaven knows I don't want to repeat the cycles of my own parents. While I'm pretty confident that I won't become an alcoholic any time soon, I'm not so sure I won't follow down the path of mental instability like my own mother.

To be perfectly honest, there is much going on in my head these days. So much that I feel tired. Bone weary tired. My mother has been diagnosed with Alzheimers just as her mother (my Nana - God I miss her) was. Will this be my fate too? I jokingly tell my kiddos to take notes because this will be my fate someday, but inside my head I really feel it will be a reality for them.

My father has been dead for just over a year. Ah, yes, the alcoholic father who actually didn't do so bad at being a single parent for most of my childhood. However, his disease eventually caused some serious dementia. He didn't know me the last time I visited and he looked so old for his seventy five or so years. What I realize is that all my safety nets are unraveling or gone. I don't want to be the "safety net" yet. I'm not ready for this job. Not yet. No. You don't understand. I haven't even lived yet.

Which brings me back to my kids - my husband. I've been married for over 18 years. I'm only 37. I've been a mother for over 16 of those years. I never went to college. I never lived on my own. I feel trapped and alone and no one cares. No one likes me (boohoo), because frankly, I don't let them. I don't like myself. I don't want to be around me so why would anyone else.

It just boggles my mind because I can feel myself falling down deeper into the darkness, but I don't know how to get out. I just keep pretending I know what I'm doing and hope that eventually I'll come out into the light again.