here's the thing that irritates me.

heh.
like there's only one thing.
i'm getting pissed off at myself.
for wasting time.
not painting when i have the time.
i.e., when the boys are both in school.
i actually have two and a half hours.
instead of painting i seem to find other 'important' things to do.
really??
so what is it.
what is it that is stopping me from WANTING to paint.
from ACTUALLY doing it.
fuck i need to get my shit together.
in some sort of seriously angry mood.
oh.
wait.
i know.
it's day 3 on weight watchers.
I. NEED. SUGAR. and CANDY BARS. and COKE. in huge amounts. *sigh*
hope the craving goes away.
eventually.

here's what i know.

i'm back on weight watchers.
it sucks.
but it's something i have to do.
made another call today looking for a new therapist.
the creative part of me is still alive, and in there.
but i don't feel fresh, full of great new ideas/inspiration.
that burning desire isn't there.
it's more of a smoldering desire now.
and that just fucking sucks.
what i feel is total and complete exhaustion.
so why my body doesn't just collapse i really never will know.
why do i continue to wake up a hundred million times a night.
why do i wake up feeling as exhausted as when i went to bed?
except for the other night.
the other night....
i fell asleep.
slept for about an hour.
had circumstances been right, i am pretty sure i could have slept all night.
course, circumstances weren't right.
but that hour i slept??
i felt better after that hour than after a 'normal' night of what i 'call' sleep.
so what was it?
why did i so easily fall asleep.
i have been trying for three days (since the night it happened) to figure out exactly what it is i felt.
*insert lightbulb moment here*
safe.
i think that's it.
i felt safe.
and protected.
god that has been bugging the shit out of me.
and now i've figured it out.
whatever it means, or doesn't mean, the other night i felt safe. and protected.

the other night.

something happened to me the other night.
a realization.
well, that's not actually totally correct.
i have known this for a while.
just wasn't willing to own it.
or do anything about it.
but now i am just fucking taking it head on.
because that's what needs to be done.
cut the shit.
own it.
if there's somethng you don't like and have the capability to fix, fix it.
man up.
and so it begins. right now.
but fucking-a is it going to suck.
but whatev.
it's gotta be done.
so that's what's happening.
small steps.
a day at a time.
then a week will have gone by.
things have GOT to change.
i can do this. for one week.
then i'll reassess.
figure out what i need to do.
another week?
one day at a frigging time because that is all i can handle.
i have to start somewhere.

redefining.

this is one small corner of my studio. on my easel is an abstract impressionist piece in progress (three boats in water). it's been an interesting piece to create. this is the painting i started about a week ago and was having trouble with. you know, the one i decided was very important to me to finish. as with all of my paintings, one small change can make me love the entire piece. one small change can make the entire thing come together. it is meant to be viewed from a distance which really does impact how you 'see' this particular painting.

this piece is full of thick texture, lots and lots of paint. layer over layer. broad brushstrokes. i see the impact of my love for monet, matisse and gauguin (especially during 1889 when his pieces were full of line, rhythm and bright color) here. definitely shows through. no, i'm not comparing my painting to any of those great artists. i just know they have had an impact on how i paint. how i view things. what i see when i create.

the photo really does not do this painting justice. it's chunky. vibrant. abstract and imperfect. and that is exactly how i want it to be.

the last few days.

the insomnia thing.....sometimes it kicks my ass.
it's not that i never sleep. i do.
i sleep for a couple of hours.
but then i wake up.
and can't go back to sleep.
or i don't fall asleep until really late.
and when i fall asleep really late (3am or later) my body likes to fuck with me. it wakes me up at 5am. or 6am.
i do get breaks from the kick ass insomnia.
i have yet to figure out what makes it come and what makes it go.
i have dealt with insomnia for a long time. since i got pregnant with ethan. he will be 9 next month.
of course after james died it intensified. seriously.
when we first moved into the new house i slept great for the first four or five nights. it was awesome!!
but now the insomnia is back.
i have felt myself going slightly deeper into depression.
have every intention of finding a therapist.
just haven't made myself do it yet. i will.
i sometimes feel very isolated.
sometimes i feel very connected to people.
not many people, i don't know many people here yet.
well, i know a few people, but only a couple do i know fairly well.
but the last few days...it's been the isolation thing.
i do like to spend time by myself. lots of it actually.
but. from time to time...i find myself needing to be with other people.
and not just the casual convo you get from going to the store, or briefly talking to the dude who is fixing the scrapes in your alcohol stained concrete floor.
crying for absolutely no reason the last two days.
seriously??
you have got to be kidding me.
drove to the coffee shack this morning after i took the boys to school.
started crying, sitting in line, waiting to order my coffee. WTF.
i know lack of sleep is part of it.
the isolation thing is too.
i just stretched some canvas.
getting ready to slap some gesso down.
working on two paintings.
one of them is difficult. half of it i really love.
the other half? not so much so.....i wiped it. going to finish this painting. it has somehow become important to me to finish THIS one painting. no clue why. therapist dude could probably tell me.
sucks he's not licensed in oregon.
i think part of my problem right now is my style is changing.
it's still me. but i think i might be going more abstract impressionism.
at least with a few pieces.
and i'm having a hard time deciding if i love it or hate it. fine line.
trying my best to give the boys what they need.
to be present for them.
i wake the boys up each morning to get them ready for school.
this morning E woke up happy. and let me tell you. that NEVER happens. it was a nice change.
listening to DMB. always. can't get enough.
fuck the unpacking for a while.
trying to find my groove with paint again.
trying to just let it be.
not force it.
and see what happens.
dumping the crap. getting it out of my head.
trying to be clear (don't laugh).
i am strong in who i am.
and i am down with it.
that is how i want to be.
couldn't change it even if i wanted to.
it's just how i am.
and i know i am strong enough to get through the crap.
i've already done so much of that.
my life is so so so much better now than it was after james first died.
i have made so many changes. good changes.
acknowledging it all.
gettin through the shit, finding my way out.
i keep my emotions to myself. i mean, if you saw me today, you would have no idea what was running through my head.
i rarely let people see me in an emotional state. i prefer it that way.
a friend of mine, (BETHANY!!) told me to stop doing that. she said to stop being so independent and so i-don't-need-anyone-else. lol... i love bethany. cuts through the crap. my kinda girl.
holy crap. long post. i now have one hour to paint. then it's time to get alexander at the bus stop.

pr[qmz.,dfladf,;ad

sometimes, when i see a couple enjoying each others' company.....you can see they really care about each other.....that they want to spend time with each other......it makes me cry. it makes me sad. it's like a floodgate of sadness comes rushing out. i can't stop it. it pisses me off because i would never begrudge other peoples' happiness. and i want that shit to stop happening.

i love being in our new house.

got a call out of the blue a couple days ago from a friend. someone who was a huge part of my childhood but we drifted apart in high school. it's interesting to get to know her again.

getting little pieces of happiness here and there. scares the crap out of me. i'm afraid it's going to open up more of me, the part that's been so sad, hurt....scared...since james died. i'm not sure i'm ready for that. but at the same time, i'm not sure i can live without that happening. confusing shit.

trying so hard to get my shit together and WANT to paint. i mean, i 'want' to....i just seem to have to force myself to start. didn't used to have to do that. i need to get it going. i have the opportunity right now to do this and i shouldn't waste it. that would be stupid.

wish i could remember how i motivated myself when i was first on weight watchers. cuz i can't fucking motivate right now to save my fucking life. and that, too, is pissing me off.

things i love.

that james' last tweet was about me.
and it's funny.
that even if crappy things are happening to me, i can look out my window when i'm driving and smile.
because i love it here.
that i have managed (with a small bit of help along the way)...but mostly by myself....to have a house built for us.
that i can handle the shit that happens.
so far anyway.
and by the shit that happens i mean getting hit by a 110 year old woman.
it felt odd, i gotta say though....not calling james.
that is still my first instinct.
he made everything better.
he wouldn't have given a crap about the car, only that i was okay.
that the decisions i have made about the house (in a completely disjointed fashion)....because certain decisions had to be made at certain times....when i didn't have necessarily all the info i needed to be making a decision.....have all turned out well. things actually go together. not sure how it happened but it did.
that i am beginning to feel the desire to paint.
and art journal.
and even scrap again.
i am hoping, once we are moved, and i actually have a studio that i really WILL do these things.
that i won't feel the pressure.
that it will just flow.
because i know i don't have to be perfect....that art is what it is.
it just happens for me.
i want to play.
be free.
do whatever.
the more you do something the more you grow.
i need to immerse myself.
to lose myself.
called my first therapist in astoria today.
beginning the process.
so i don't go insane.
because sometimes it feels like that is happening.
especially with going through things again.
packing again.
making sure i'm on top of all the house stuff.
that things ARE getting done.
because i want in my house.
and out of the rental.
with the scary basement.
i WANT to be settled.
to finally know what it will feel like to be here, in our own house.

aieaieaieaieaieaie

counters went in today. granite (the unshiny kind)....i can't stand shiny granite. the cabinets are antiqued and are off white. cabinets did not come with hardware. i had that put on by one of the finish dudes. i think it adds to the overall look. appliances are all stainless. and should be installed tomorrow. hoping it all works out and i really am moving in a week. hoping the light cabinets and stainless (neutrality of it) will balance the dark counter.

small breakdown in the scary basement today. after james died he was cremated. i moved his ashes to astoria with us. in packing up shit in the scary basement, i had to move james' ashes. carefully. and gently. but it occurred to me (uh....duh).....that i was holding my husband's ashes. and holy fucking shit. i sat on the floor of the gross, dirty, scary basement and cried. out of the blue. from no where.

it's all good.....i know good things are happening, the fact we're about to move into our new house, and we'll be able to finally get settled.....today was just not my best day. tomorrow is another one. i am sure it will be better. i will be chill. less emotional.

the last week i have been waking up at 4am and haven't been able to go back to sleep. and that is pissing me off. thinking if it happens again tonight, tomorrow night will be an allergy medicine/lemon drop martini induced night in the hopes of sleeping past 4am.

we are moving in 9 days.

i once had a passing thought that if i ever had my own little studio space, it would have a purple stained concrete floor. so here it is. this is my studio which is just really another room in our new house. except it has the perfect floor for painting and getting messy. and a sink. with cold AND hot water. two very important things for a studio? floors you can easily clean/wipe paint off and a sink with running cold and hot water (so you don't freeze your hands off) to rinse brushes.

i am looking forward to organizing my studio. getting my roll of canvas out. my stretcher bars. all my paint. maybe, one day, when i don't have more 'house' stuff to do, i will paint. i miss that creative, get lost...get in the zone...forget about everything else part of me.

met with a tax dude earlier this week. my taxes for 2009 were more difficult than 2008. lots of questions i didn't know the answers to. so i found someone, made the appointment and went. i sometimes forget to self edit. i forget where i am, who i am with. i am pretty sure i said fuck at least three times (to the CPA). yeah. i'm sure that made a nice impression. lol... i know i have to self-edit when out in 'public'. i just forget sometimes. it takes a lot of effort. ooops.

i just have not felt like posting.

my blog has been, in the past, the place i can put the crap.
to get it out of my head.
but lately, i haven't been able to think clear thoughts.
or if i have, i haven't liked or wanted to admit what they are.
which is unusual for me.
i know i am on overload.
getting ready to move again.
march 5th or 6th. or both.
my brother is coming to help.
haven't seen him since he helped move me initially.
never thought james' mom would actually come and see us.
but she is.
she bought a ticket.
never thought she would come before jan.
never, EVER thought that.
ganja hippy dude.
i think that's where it all started to get fucked up.
it was a trip (seriously like i felt like i was living someone else's life).
he pursued me.
would not give up.
wanted to be with me.
and by be with me, i mean he wanted us to get married and grow old together.
well, i'm already old. so older, i guess. ;-)
i went from forcing myself to go out with him (so i would know what it felt like)....
to realizing how much i miss having someone in my life.
someone on a daily basis.
someone who gives a crap about you.
your day.
someone to hold hands with.
someone to hold you.
someone to talk to. with.
someone to be intimate with.
and by intimate i don't mean sex.
i mean...someone to have a history with.
who knows things about you.
who gets the inside jokes.
who shares himself with you.
someone to speak to in that soft voice and someone who speaks to YOU in that same voice.
unfortunately, (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it)...ganja hippy dude had too many issues.
he was too intense.
could not understand 'go slow'.
it was all or nothing with him so i chose nothing.
he couldn't understand where i am coming from.
from being married to my best friend, the man i thought i would spend my entire life with....
to 10 years of james' illness, his death....now raising the boys....moving.....adjusting.
he just couldn't grasp i really needed to go slow.
there were other reasons i couldn't be with him, too, of course.
he just wasn't the right dude for me.
but it was hard to let go.
and that is hard for me to admit.
i think of myself as strong (most of the time).
but i really wanted to hold on to ganja hippy dude.
because he made me feel less lonely.
he 'wanted' to take care of me.
to help raise the boys.
but there was just something not right.
something i didn't feel with him.
he thought i was the one for him and couldn't understand why i wasn't willing to just jump in.
which is how i normally roll.
but wasn't able to with him.
that right there tells me he's not the right dude for me.
i just didn't want to listen to myself.
i think most of all ganja hippy dude made me realize i really will want to be with someone at some point.
that i'm not capable of living life and feeling all there is to feel.....without sharing it.
admitting that pisses me off.
i know james would want me to be happy.
but it sort of feels like (yeah...i know)...like i am disrespecting him, or unloving him.
which i'm not.
i get that. logically it makes sense.
just emotionally...you know, that's where shit gets fucked up.
afraid i might develop feelings for someone who doesn't have the same feelings for me.
*SIGH*
now i can breathe.
for a little while.
been a pretty emotional ride the last few weeks.
not even sure why.
counting down the days.....
16 days until we move into our new house.
holy shit.
like seriously. HOLY SHIT.
i have to get our shit packed up again!!!

i should be in bed!

sometimes life comes at you hard and fast.
i need to slow things down.
have some time to think.
i need quiet.
alone time.
since i won't be getting that...gotta figure out how to sort through the shit in my head anyway.
the boys have both been sick.
for two weeks.
i now have what they have.
i need to address two issues.
two important issues.
i also need a shitload of sleep.
i am sure if i could sleep the other issues would be clearer.
i sometimes wonder why i do the fucking things i do.
against my better judgment, sometimes i do things.
and it's scary.
there are many powerful emotions.
lack of sleep does not help define what is true and what is not.

therapist dude.

had a telephone appointment with therapist dude today.
he told me to let him know if i needed him.
so i did.
finally.
kind of hard to cram 4 months into 50 minutes.
it was intense.
phone conversations don't have quite the same impact.
but even so, therapist dude helped refocus me.
got asked out by a long haired hippy dude.
which made me throw up.
never, ever thought anyone would ask me out.
it blew my mind.
wasn't ready.
forced myself to go out with him anyway.
because i wanted to know what it would feel like.
how i would react.
of course i threw up after. a bunch of times.
but ultimately i couldn't do it.
something was not quite right there.
therapist dude agreed.
hippy dude was WAY intense.
came on hard and fast.
part of me wanted everything to be right.
because i miss having someone to share things with.
to talk to.
part of me was way not ready.
the boys have been pushing me. HARD.
BOTH of them.
which is unusual.
i usually deal with E's behavior and not alexander's too.
seriously?
i'll deal with this fucken shit.
fucken roll with it.
figure it out.
and i will fucking enjoy every happy moment that comes my way in the meantime.
45 days until we are fucking in our new house.

eporiq-03r-3m,xcmz.x,

hated the place i lived.
so i moved.
adjusting, figuring things out.
and it's all good.












alexander and callie walking (to the rental) from the bus stop today

it's weird, and i'm not sure i can explain it exactly, but i feel my old life slipping away.
on one hand, that's very sad. it makes me feel like i am losing james all over again.
on the other hand, it's good. i came here for a new start. a fresh place.
but it's sortta freakin' me out.
because i feel like it's all happening so fast.
since moving i haven't really talked to anyone about james.
yes. i know. i need a new therapist dude.
i'll work on that.
life is happening here.
even though it scares the shit out of me, and i literally spent friday night throwing up because of how bad i felt, the guilt i felt at contemplating and taking action to have a life without james, i am forcing myself to do shit. to move forward. even though i don't want to. i know i have to. i have to back the shit with some action. i DO have to move on. to show the boys what there is in life. how to do this.
just wasn't expecting how hard that would be.
it's weird for me to say i don't want to move on.
because for the past few months all i have said is that i DO want to move on.
but now, now that i see a little bit of life opening up to me....fucking scares the shit out of me!
and now i'm not so sure i want to do this.
it's amazing that you can feel so many conflicting emotions at once.
i am excited.
a little bit happy.
missing james.
wanting to open myself up.
but scared to do it.
that takes me to a whole new place.
one that i'm not sure i'm ready for.
a whole lotta guilt with all this.

a letter.

14 months later, i want you to know i still miss you each and every day.
i am doing my absolute best with the boys.
some days i feel like a complete and total failure as a parent.
some days i don't.
E is constantly pushing me.
just when i don't think i can take any more, he either senses it...or i'm not even sure but he somehow magically snaps back into the adorable and caring little boy i know he can be.
today, for the FIRST time, he told me he was sorry for something he had done.
i almost felt like he understands that you HAVE to take responsibility for your actions.
not so sure though. because this has been a hard lesson for E. i've taught it over and over and over again. sometimes i have felt like i've been slamming my head against a wall, that he will never, ever get it. then...today...wham. maybe it's a first step. god i hope so. because he HAS to understand.
alexander, too, is trying to find his way.
form some independence.
which is sad for me.
it sort of shocks me, actually. i guess i should have expected it. i guess i wasn't prepared.
the boys miss you so much.
they talk about you, alexander more than ethan, though as more time passes E talks about you a bit more. when you first died, he totally and completely shut down. i see him, beginning to talk about certain memories he has of you, of us....it's a good thing. but i see it also makes him sad.
all of the decisions i have made, i have made with the boys' best interest in mind. their best interest and MY sanity.
i want you to know i love living in astoria.
i asked the boys the other night, each individually, if they like it here.
alexander does. he seems content.
ethan says he likes it, however, his answer was slightly reserved.
i think he misses you, and equates you to reno, and our old house and is still mad at me for taking him away from 'you', if that makes any sense.
a week or so ago the boys and i were sitting at the table.
alexander said to me, 'i want things back the way they were. i want daddy back. i want our house back. i want everything back the way it was.' it of course, made me really sad. becasue i feel guilty for uprooting them. i needed to do it. i couldn't live there anymore. but i know my decision was hard on them. for them. and they aren't over it.
i know that i am lucky.
lucky that i can have a house built for us.
i also feel the stress.
the stress of being a single parent.
of making every single decision for all of us.
once the virus attacked your heart, our lives changed. not to say i wouldn't do it all over again with you, because i would. i wouldn't trade our time together for anything in the world.
some days i think of you and am happy.
other days, i am sad beyond words. because i miss you and i'm not sure i can do this.
wait. that's not right. i know i can do this. i'm just not sure if i can do it well.
i worry, a lot, about fucking up the boys.
i miss having you here.
to talk to. with.
to tell me it's all going to be okay.
you filled in all those little gaps and spaces that needed filling.
i don't know how else to say it except you and i just went together.
we belonged together.
and my insomnia.....it's back.
when you died it came back with a mother fucking vengence.
it went away for a while.
but it's back.
i should find a new therapist dude.
i just haven't.
there are many things i should do.
and haven't.
on christmas day when i had to talk to that person, my body shook.
the entire time.
i did my part and let the boys talk to them.
i know i need to let my anger about this particular subject go.
but i'm not entirely there yet.
i want you to know that you had some good friends.
vish, for one.
a year later, he sent the boys something for christmas.
he did not forget that there are two little boys out there, missing their father.
and THAT is way way way beyond amazing.
and someone has been a secret santa to the boys. got something in the mail for them yesterday. no return address. but i have my suspicians about who it is.
some days feel normal.
others, well...they just don't.
i really truly do miss you more than i can say.
i haven't painted.
i want to.
i need to.
i may have to just fucking force it again.
i have to find a way to get over not wanting to paint when the boys are around.
because the boys are ALWAYS around.
unless they're in school (and that's a short period of time for zan).
i have to get over the mental block and just fucking blow through this shit.
i think now that more time has passed since you died, i am starting to process more.
it's come and gone for me.
i think that's the only way i've been able to function. when it gets to be too much my mind just shuts it down.
and lately, it's been letting more get through. not sure if that's a good or a bad thing.
i feel like crap, because i miss you, and i know many people expect me to be 'over' it and fine and perfectly happy at this point. but that's not how it works. for me anyway.
i think i am only allowed to process a bit at a time because if it were otherwise i really truly would just shut the fuck down. completely.
so maybe, when it all works its way to the top, just enough gets out. and then it starts all over again. i really do try hard, though, to make it all go away. because i want to feel normal again.
i love you.
and i miss you.
i am doing my best with our boys.

peace out, yo.

took callie for a walk at the beach yesterday.
more often than not, less is more.

jan sent me a card yesterday.
these are her words:

you're such a mixture.
cookie baker, mother, protector, rebel, artist, creator, dissatisfied seeker.

i won't post all of what she said. they are, after all, her words, not mine.
they are a personal exchange and i haven't asked her permission. i'm certain the part i posted she would be okay with.
but what she said to me?? she is right mother fucking on. she wants me to want to do things again. and sometimes i want to. sometimes i even do.
we all make choices then live with the consequences.
having an extremely difficult time with both of the boys right now.
usually it's just E.
i'm sort of shocked at the behavior i have seen out of alexander the last two days.
and i'm sad about it.
turns out, one of the hardest lessons for my boys to understand is taking responsibility for their actions. that was something james spent much time on with E. and he still doesn't get it.
i feel at a loss.
not sure what to do, exactly.
i need to find another therapist dude.
just haven't felt like it.

this year.

for santa:
sugar cookies, a glass of milk AND a poster made by E. he wanted santa to have something special.
for the reindeer:
leafy carrots and a bowl of water.
the roses were sent to me by my mom.
she is at my brother's this year for christmas.
perhaps missing all of us being together.
this year it is just me and the boys.
no family.
no friends.
just us.
the boys have been meticulously counting down the days until christmas. E drew a picture of a christmas tree AND a picture of me at the bottom. you can tell it's me. right? because of the spikey hair?!

today:
christmas eve walk on the beach with callie.
made and baked sugar cookies with the boys which they decorated.
bought carrots for the reindeer. (a must have according to E).
watched the video clip santa sent for each of the boys.
let me tell you.
E was one nervous little boy waiting to find out if he made the 'nice' list.
the kid was sweating.
he should have been.
tonight:
sitting by the lights of the trees.
watching a movie.
waiting for the boys to fall asleep.
so i can get the boys' santa gifts set up and in front of the real tree.
and fill our stockings.
if only i could take a hot bath. i so would.
going to bed early.
because you KNOW my early risers (how did that even happen when i am a night owl) will be up EXTRA early tomorrow.
sad? maybe, a bit.
it's different. not really good, or bad. just different.
i knew moving would force me to stand up, and handle what came along.
by myself.
it's a good thing.

an art journal page.

i haven't art journaled in 3 years.
until today.
took this photo with my iPhone in october.
i look like shit.
and it was shocking to me when i saw the photo.
i have admittedly abused my body over the last year.
not sleeping.
not eating right.
not eating at all.
or eating nothing but candy bars and drinking coke.
or the months that i drank red bull hardcore.
drinking more alcohol than i ever have before.
and the other things i've done.
that i don't care to mention.
i still abuse my body.
on a daily basis.
i am aware of it.
it doesn't seem to be something i can stop.
i know it's part of me dealing with james' death.
it's part of my i don't give a fuck attitude.
if it weren't for the boys i would have done way stupider things than just what i've done.
but i always remember.
i told james i would care for our boys.
raise them the way we intended.
it was nice to art journal.
page happened in 5 minutes.
it practically did itself.
wonder how long it will be before i art journal again.

things i like.

real tree that smells good.
















charlie brown tree.

i am over the christmas thing. the boys are not. so there ya have it. two trees. BOTH of which are in the small living room in the rental.

things i like:
sleeping.
coffee.
unexpected surprises.
nice people.
thoughtfulness.
the way it smells here.
boats.
people that make me laugh.
books (art, art history, boats and on and on).
letting go and being 'in' the moment.
if your life sucks, or parts of it anyway, let go and when good things happen...let 'em roll.
i especially like it when karma comes back around and bites someone in the ass. just sayin'. it's just.
my newest thing: obsession with home decorating mags.
i'm sure i'll be over it once i move into our house.
the signs of bonding i see between the boys.
yes, they fight. a lot.
but they do have their moments of kindness where the love shows through (though E would never admit it).
the freedom you get from shutting the shit down and walking away.
yes, it's there in the end. but you did get a nice little break. sweet.

apparently....

apparently my way of dealing with things is to pretty much NOT deal with them.
i get a flip attitude.
an i don't give a fuck attitude.
i do whatever it is i want to do that makes me forget.
i realized today, when i was oh so angry with ethan, that this angry person is not who i want to be.
taking care of the boys is swallowing me up.
it is no secret i struggle with being a mother.
i struggle with the amount of time and energy it takes.
with the constant-ness of it.
is that even a word?
if it isn't, it should be.
sometimes it really feels like it sucks the life right out of me.
and before you go gettin all up in my face about i'm lucky to have kids and blah blah blah....
yeah. i get that.
part of me is all about it.
the other part of me....not so much.
i was talking to one of the dudes building our house the other day.
he has 5 kids.
he's been married for 26 years.
when he met his wife she was pregnant (not by him) at 16 years old.
he loved her.
and took on another man's child.
they built a life together and had children together.
i told him his was a pretty amazing story.
that there aren't a lot of men who would do that.
he looked at me and said, 'it wasn't the kid's fault'.
he raised that child as one of his own.
why am i telling you that story?
to remind myself.
it's not ethan's fault his father died.
it's not alexander's fault either.
and they deserve better than i have been giving them.
E yelled at me tonight, 'why don't you just kick me out?!'
i calmly told him i will never ever do that.
that i love him.
that i will always be here for him.
but he has to understand he cannot continue to push me.
being so angry and disrespectful.
today was not my best day.
along with all of this alexander had his christmas recital at school tonight.
i loved watching him up on stage.
but at the same time, it made me so so sad.
because james just ate that shit up.
he LOVED being there for the boys.
going to their school functions, games....and everything else.
so it was glaringly huge tonight to me, that james wasn't there to see alexander up on stage.
and, as i've said a million times before, that is the saddest part about james' death.
that my boys, at such a young age, have to grow up without their father.
i watched as they looked longingly at other 'families' with a mom and a dad.
i had to turn away and breathe.
and dude.
i am mother fucking sick of that shit.

i am a firm believer.

i am a firm believer in appreciating what you have, when/while you have it.
do what you want.
sometimes that's hard.
do it anyway.
i am a firm believer in karma.
what goes around comes around.
there are a lot of assholes in this world. just sayin.
treat people well.
we soak up the energy of those around us.
most of my emotion remains inside.
you won't see it on my face.
usually.
i laugh, and smile....
but the real emotion.....i prefer to keep it deep inside.
but sometimes emotion escapes.
mostly it's when i'm tired, frustrated....and i have just absolutely had fucking enough.
i still haven't learned how to answer the inevitable question.
and what does your husband do?
and....your husband...is....where?
no one expects you to say he's dead.
pretty much everyone assumes you're divorced.
clearly they don't know me very well.
i'm not a negative person.
i sometimes wish i was able to show more emotion on the outside, instead of just feeling it all on the inside and dealing with it 'later'.
it builds up.
and grabs hold of me at inopportune times.
which pisses me off.
death is a beautiful part of life?
i'm not buyin' it.
i am not over it.
sometimes it feels as if i am living my life with a great big hole in it.
i am afraid.
i am lucky and i fully realize this.
and i absolutely try to never take anything for granted.
i am hoping one day to get my shit together.
to be able to paint again.
to be be less afraid again.
and i am trying my mother fucking best not to be sad right now.
to make this a good christmas for the boys.
we (the three of us)....we are enough.
we are all we have.
and we are enough.
when i decided to move here, i knew it would go one of two ways.
either the boys and i will be super duper close...or....uh....yeah. we won't.
because they are all i have.
and i am all they have.