Monday, August 20, 2012

Three Months

I haven't blogged in a while. Ben has been off from school for the summer and they keep me busy. I was also kind of in a funk for a while.

Three months ago I lost something that was very important to me. My best friend. No, nothing happened to her. She's perfectly fine as far as know. But our friendship is not fine. It's broken and I don't think it'll ever be fixed.

We've been best friends for 20 years. Twenty years. That's more than half my life. She stood by me through some tough times and I did the same for her. We met in 7th grade and while we've had some differences over the years our friendship always pulled through. From the outside we seem like very different people but there was just something about our friendship that worked.

Three months ago everything changed. I spent the day at a craft fair, Jeremy was working and my parents had the kids for the night. I talked to my BF (best friend for future reference) and she said she was having a little campfire in her yard that night and invited me over. It sounded good to me. I was looking forward to spending sometime relaxing and she and I didn't get to hang out often because we both have kids.

So I got there that night and her "friend", we'll call him DB (for douchebag) was there along with her cousin, her cousin's daughter and her BF's kids were playing nearby. Now, I had previously liked DB and had encouraged BF to be in a relationship with him. She had come from another bad relationship and this guy didn't seem so bad. He took care of his kids and had a job and seemed to treat her pretty good. Most of all he made her happy and that's what mattered most to me. Over time I realized that this guy had some anger issues along with a serious drinking problem. I stopped encouraging after that. So I wasn't real thrilled that he was there but again, she was happy so I said nothing.

We all hung out for a while and we were having a good time. He was drinking and quickly got drunker which made him run his mouth a lot. He was just completely obnoxious. Her cousin left and shortly before she left I found out that he had hit her with the rung of a chair earlier in the evening. I won't tell more of that story because isn't my place to tell her story.

I'm sitting there talking to BF and DB keeps interrupting acting like an ass. I finally tell him to shut up so that I can talk to my friend. He rushes me from out of nowhere and shoves me out of my chair. I hit my head on the wooden chair next to me and slam my arm on the ground. It hurt. A lot! I get up off the ground and he's acting like he wants to hit me. I tell him that real men don't hit women and I make and attempt to leave but I can't get around him because he's in front of the gate. BF gets between us and she's trying to push him back and calm him down and being all sweet to him. Not once does she ask if I'm okay or show any kind of concern for me. He's telling me to "bring somebody" because he wants me to go get my husband or someone for him to fight after all of this. She finally gets him in the house. I look right at her and say "you made your choice." I knew right then and there that our friendship was over.

I've spent a lot of years watching her go through one destructive relationship after another. I supported her, listened to her cry and helped her through when her heart was broken yet again. I finally decided that I was just done. I just can't do it anymore. I just don't have it in me.

I know I made the right decision but that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt and it doesn't mean that I don't miss her. I do miss her. There are times when I want to pick up the phone and call her. I'll see something funny online that makes me think of her and I want to share it with her and then I remind myself that I can't.

After all of that I've decided that my husband and my mom are all the best friend that I need. They are two people who are always there for me. I'd rather spend my time with my husband more than with anyone else in the world other than our children.

I've been really hurt before by people who I called friends. My entire senior year was a nightmare because of people that I thought were friends. That was the absolute lowest point of my life. A year that should have been filled with fun and making memories was the worst year of my life. Time heals all wounds but it sure can leave scars. I've never allowed myself to become friends with a large group of people ever again. After that and what now happened with BF I find myself holding people at arm's length. I have awesome neighbors who I consider to be friends and yet I know that a part of me is holding back in becoming really invested in these friendships because I don't want to get hurt again. I know it's wrong. They're wonderful people and lots of fun. I'm just not sure I could ever fully trust a friend again.

Losing a 20 year friendship makes me sad. She knew me better than almost anyone else. We had some really fun memories together and she really was there at times that I needed her. When all of those other "friends" decided to make my life a living hell she was there. I miss that friend. I think I'll always miss her.

I may even have let everything go if she had at least made an effort the next day to see if I was okay or to apologize for things getting out of hand but she didn't do that. To me that meant that she was clearly showing that she supported him and that hurt even more.

I wish her the best in life. I truly do. I loved her and her family. I've known her boys since they were born and I've loved watching them grow over the years. I loved her mom and the rest of her family and I wish them all well.

Friday, April 27, 2012

We get! You're the MAP! Now shut up already!

"I'm the map. I'm the map. I'm the map. I'm the MAP!"

If you have a child who is 17 or younger, chances are you've been subjected to Dora Hell at some point or other. Amanda is 17 now and Dora was just starting and gaining popularity when she was about 5 so she watched it but only for a brief (although it felt like an eternity) amount of time. It was annoying then and it hasn't changed in the 12 years that have passed since she watched it.

After suffering through the repetitive annoyingness that is Dora when Amanda was little, I vowed that I'd never let any of my kids watch it. Most kid shows are annoying to some extent but Dora takes the cake and I didn't want to have to watch it. I did okay with Ben and managed to avoid it until recently. Somehow, Jillian discovered Dora and it was love at first "Hola!" Ben decided he liked Dora as well.

Poor me. Now I spend my days trying to decide which would be more painful...watching Dora or inserting small wooden spikes under each of my toenails...Listening to that effing map or having to walk barefoot through a mixture of broken glass, rusty nails and hot coals.

It's torture I tell you! Torture! If the government wants to get confessions out of terrorists they should make them watch Dora 24 hours a day until they crack. I watched 3 episodes this morning and I was resisting the urge to call my mom and confess every bad thing I had ever done if she would just make Dora go away!

I'll bet you're thinking "But you're the adult...surely you control the remote and you can just turn Dora off and move on to something else." Oh how I wish it were that easy. I tried it today.

This was the result.

Don't they look like they've lost everything that they've ever loved? Jillian will cry for an hour for "Gora and Boops (that would be Dora and Boots for those of you who don't speak toddler). She'll have a full on, throw herself on the floor, crying, kicking, screaming tantrum. One glimpse of Dora and she's happy again.

Jillian is a bit behind in speech and has been receiving speech therapy for almost a year now. Dora has encouraged her to speak more than anyone else so I guess she isn't all bad.

My parents had to put up with the annoying crap that my brother and I liked when we were kids so I guess this is my payback!

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Creepy Little Bastards

Don't worry, I'm not talking about my children! I know that's what I usually blog about but I wouldn't call my kids creepy little bastards!

I'm talking about spiders. I hate spiders. I've always hated spiders. I have nightmares about them. I don't understand people who keep big tarantulas as pets. Only an insane person would keep one of those eight legged freaks as a pet.

It's Saturday night and the kids are spending the night with Grandma and Grandpa. Jeremy works on Saturday nights so it's my time to get somethings done with no interruptions. I enjoy a little peace and quiet. I was having a nice evening. I cleaned most of the evening. I decided to go take a shower before Jeremy gets home from work. It's not often that I get to take one without having to listen to a kid trying to beat the door down or having someone say "Mommy I have to pee!!!!" the second I step under the water. When I don't have to rush I don't have to make the tough decision "Do I wash my hair or shave my legs because I only have time to do one of those things before all hell breaks lose."

So tonight I was looking forward to my peaceful, relaxing shower. I turned the water on and got it to just the right temperature. I stepped into the tub and turned to close the shower curtain behind me when I spotted it. The spider. He was quickly crawling on the wall of my bathroom headed straight for my peaceful shower. Crap! I was already soaking wet from the shower and because I had just dyed my hair yesterday, color was still coming out so I was dripping hair dye all over the shower. I grabbed my towel, threw it on the floor so I didn't drip dye everywhere, grabbed a washcloth and tried to kill the spider. Fail. I managed to knock it off the wall and it disappeared. Great. Just great. Now that spider was in hiding while it plotted its revenge against me.

I got back into the shower but couldn't stop thinking about how this spider was probably burrowing into my clothes and laying eggs filled with creepy little spider babies. I knew I had to get out and find it. So once again I was faced with the I wash my hair or shave my legs? The hair won out because I had to rinse more dye out (had a little mishap with the shower head yesterday when I tried to do it and had to resort to the kitchen sink sprayer).

I got out and dried off while scanning the bathroom for any signs of the spider who was surely going to murder me. I finally spotted it crawling back up the wall. I grabbed my weapon of choice...a washcloth, took a deep breath, let out a little squeal and squished the little effer! I threw the whole washcloth in the trash and slammed the lid!

I'm sure I'll have nightmares about that stupid spider tonight!

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Getting old

It happens to all of us. I remember being in high school and thinking that people who were in their 30's seemed so old. I was right. I'm almost 32 and I feel like that is old. When I was 21 or 22 I felt all grown up. Not it seems like someone who is 21 or 22 is just a kid! I didn't want to be thought of as a kid at that age.

For the last couple of years I've gone back to the job that I had as a teenager. I know you probably just hopped right on your high horse and felt all superior when you read that right? Well, it's a job and it's a job that works well for my family. They work around my schedule and I only work a couple of days a week for a few hours each day. Who says you have to be a teenager to serve ice cream? I make better money doing that than I would at any other part time job. I like the job overall and I like the people. My mom has been there running the place for years. She got started doing it when my brother and I were kids for the same reason that I do it. It worked well for our family.

What really gets me though is working with young girls. What made me feel really old is when I realized that I was already working there when these girls were born. That's right, when I was 15 years old and working there some of these girls were just being born. Umm....wait.....HOW DID I GET THIS OLD???? I swear I think I just blinked and 10 years disappeared.

This year Jeremy and I will be celebrating our 12th anniversary. Twelve years! That's how long it takes to get through all of your years of school. Twelve years of school seemed like it took forever but 12 years of marriage just flew by! How could I possibly be old enough to have been married for 12 years? Surely, Jeremy must have robbed the cradle and married me before I was even legal right?

I know in the long run that 31 one really isn't that old. I know that one day I'll look back and think of 31 as young and I think that I was pretty damn silly to think that 31 was old but right now, when my back and feet are hurting, I feel old.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

New Year's Resolutions

I will exercise, eat right and lose weight. *Oh crap, I just ate like 5 cookies. So much for that one*
I will spend less time on the computer. *Uhh...I'm blogging right now so there goes that one*
I will be more patient with the kids *OMG They're screaming so loud that I'm sure the neighbors think I'm murdering much for patience*

Oh screw that whole resolution thing. Does anyone really stick to those things? It seems like a good way to set yourself up for disappointment. I don't need that! Who wants to start off their year disappointed in themselves? Not this girl. Resolutions are for suckers. I'm good the way that I am!

Sunday, December 18, 2011


I've always wondered if my kids know how much I love them and if they understand exactly what love means. I tell them that I love them all of the time but how exactly do you explain to a child just what love really means?

I think Ben is starting to figure it out. Today, he and Jill were at the table eating dinner and I was at the stove making dinner for Jeremy and me. Jeremy walked over and stirred the onions that were cooking in the other pan and then he put his arms around me and kissed my cheek. Ben had turned around and was observing us and he asked "Mommy, do you love Daddy?' I told him that yes I love Daddy very much. He then asked, "You love me too, right?" I said that I loved him all the way to the moon and back and he replied, "I like that you love us so much Mommy."

I like that I love them so much, too. It feels good to have that kind of love to surround me every single day. I may get frustrated, angry and overwhelmed on a daily basis but I also feel so much love for them and from them every day. I love when Ben gets into my bed in the middle of the night and puts his arm around my neck. When I ask him why he's in my bed he tells me that it's because he loves me or that he misses me. I love when I go to his school for something and his face lights up when he sees me and he yells "MOMMY!" like I'm some kind of rock star. I love when Jill squeals with happiness when I get back from being away from her even when it's only been a few minutes. I love the way she runs up and hugs my legs and acts like she never wants to let go. I love when she snuggles up on my lap or gives me hugs and kisses without me even asking for them.

We may not have a lot of money. We may not be able to afford to give the kids countless presents for Christmas or take fancy vacations. But my kids will never go a day without feeling loved. It is my greatest gift to them. Loving their dad, my husband, is another gift to them. It's important for them to see their parents love and respect each other. I hope that it will help them in their own relationships with others some day.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

The Ripple Effect of Suicide

"Some people don't appreciate what they have til it's gone." This was the final Tweet from a 16 year old girl who ended her own life last week.

Sixteen years old. The same age as my stepdaughter. I actually met her once. When Amanda was in 3rd grade we went to her class to visit. We brought snacks and read them a story, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. We had a great time and the kids loved it. There were lots of questions about our "accents." They live in Rhode Island, we're from New Jersey. Anyway, there was a little girl named Liza in that class. I remember her. Out of all of the children in that class, she is the only one that I remember (other than Amanda obviously). She was this petite, beautiful, giggly little girl who seemed so full of life. She was excited about us being there and asked us to visit again. Seven years later and I still remember her.

How could that little girl who was so full of life no longer be living? I haven't seen her since that day. When I heard about what happened I looked her up and found her picture. She was beautiful, just as beautiful as I remembered her, only more grown up. She had the kind of beauty that turns heads.

From what I've been told, she took her life because she was being bullied. I don't know if that's the real reason or not. But then again do we ever really know the real reason(s) why someone would choose to end his or her own life? No matter how well we think we know someone we really never truly know what is going on in that person's head. Sometimes, I'm not sure we even know those things about ourselves.

I've spent this week thinking about Liza a lot. I'm saddened by the fact that she ended her life but I'm also saddened by the fact that while she was alive she was suffering so much that suicide not only became an option, it became a reality. No 16 year old girl should have to suffer that way. No person should have to suffer that way.

A girl I met only one time has had a powerful effect on me. My heart hurts for what she must have been feeling and for what her family and friends must be feeling now. Maybe it's because she was the same age as Amanda and was one of her classmates, that this has had such an effect on me. It hits close to home. Teen suicide happens a lot more often than most of us realize. Bullying has always existed but with the current technology, there seems to be no escaping it. Now bullies can taunt you in school, through texting, email, Facebook, they can Tweet it all over the world in a matter of seconds and once those words or those pictures are out there you can't retrieve them and hide them somewhere.

Something needs to be done. Now. Today. Yesterday. But what? How can you make kids understand the effect that bullying can have? How many kids need to die before people really get it?