Strange Days

So many bizarre things have been happening of late. Maybe it's true what people say: A change is coming. People, things, our environment, morphing into something different. I don't think I like it. It's not an easy-going, happy feeling. It's tense, like waiting for a tornado to hit, or being in the eye of it. My power trio family is doing well. We're all getting along and loving eachother. But others in my life have fallen by the wayside. After 17 years or so my best friend has made her final exit from my life, to my benefit I'm sure. I look back at the things that have happened and I get angry I let myself be used so often. I was knowingly used. I let it happen. I've wasted so much time. Family, love, helping who you can without taking from yourself, these are important things. Yes, giving of yourself without taking from yourself. Save the best for those who matter. Your children, your family. They are all you have or need. Keep them safe and let life do what it will, I guess. We are still under God's eye.

Christmas is Coming!

I love nighttime now. Even though I'm an incurable insomniac, I watch Elise sleeping curled up under Anthony's arm as they both snore. She is beautiful! And she does the weirdest things when she sleeps. Last night she sat up, said "Bleep, bloop, blop" and laid back down, sleeping soundly. Like a little robot. What do 3 year olds dream of? Sometimes she wakes up crying, but sometimes it's just hilarious gibberish. Her dad does that too. The gibberish part. Yes, I used to dread the bedtime battle for sleep, but now I feel peaceful, calm. I just watch them both, mostly her, with complete adoration. That child is my best friend. My carbon copy. She sings like me, she dances like me, she does whatever I do, and that makes me paint a smile on my face - everyday. I dive full-force into my day with her. I talk to her about silly things I can't talk to anyone else about. I've always been a kid at heart,(some say immature), but I want her to see life as a chance to improve on our next day here. She makes everything I do an opportunity to brighten her life, to shape her personality into a strong, creative being. I am very lucky I've had the ability to be a work-from-home mom. I don't think we would have as close a relationship as we do if she was being raised at some day care. I know some mothers have no choice, but some mothers are glad for the break. To each her own. It may be good for some personalities. Some people need space, but she and I feel a mutual bond. We both enjoy eachothers company. It reminds me of my relationship with my grandmother. We could talk about anything. She was always my best friend. This year we have mega presents for her under the tree. I don't know if that's good for her or not. I don't know whether to follow up on the Santa myth either. I tell her it's Jesus birthday, but he loves us so much that he lets Santa give us all his presents if we're really good. Anthony doesn't want Santa taking credit for the presents he's buying. That's kind of funny. I mean, Santa isn't real, ya know? But I was the oldest of three and we didn't have lots of money when I was a kid, so my mom asked me to forego the Santa present so the younger ones could get more. I kept the secret so long I think my sister still believes in Santa. (She probably just does that so she gets the extra presents, haha!)

Why Did I Think I Liked Christmas?

It all started when I was thirteen and I started my very first period on Christmas Day. Man, I was so happy cuz I thought this meant I was an adult. I could now do as I pleased. A full grown woman. Well, we all know what a cruel joke that was. My mom was even laughing her ass off at the irony. So why do I insist on hopefully looking forward to this date as if it were an actual holiday? I mean, it's not even Jesus' real birthday. Maybe that's what this is supposed to remind me of. After all, it's supposed to be Jesus' birthday, yet we move the date and give ourselves the presents. This day is just wrong from the start.

Under the Covers

Days go by, getting colder and colder. I have good friends, I have lost friends. I disappoint myself. My husband had me stop taking the birth control pill because he thought I was getting fat. One of my girlfriends says that's the reason for my emotional rollercoaster. I also heard that Anth volunteered to go to Afghanistan to assist in operations out there in the future. It may or may not happen. Here I've been sticking around cuz I thought it would be cruel to leave, to take his 3 year old daughter from him at this age. But he volunteered to leave us. All for the sake of money, of course. But I don't care as much about money as he does. I feel ...undriven. Definitely not motivated. I called my Dad cuz he always makes me feel like the old me, the young me. But he actually hung up on me cuz his new girlfriend came over, probably with drugs, and the party must go on, with or without me. I miss that party, but I love my family more. I wish it weren't such a tightrope of tension.
Ah...a friend stopped by with words of encouragement and a shot of courage. It's so nice to know that people KNOW me. It's also frightening. Am I that visible? I shouldn't be. I thought all my guards were up and working all this time. They've kept people off my trail for years, and now, suddenly, peep holes are appearing in my armor of defense mechanisms. They appear in my nightmares. Last night I dreamt that my well-perfected catwalk of confidence had decayed. I was so in pain that I couldn't stand straight and tall, let alone strut with an in-your-face, don't fuck with me attitude. I wonder if I can pull out of this downward spiral. The last time I felt this hopeless I was younger, kicking synthetic medications created by the government to tear the little folk down. This time I'm just kicking...myself. What is wrong with me? I need to start working out again. It's an addiction I should keep. I was still sad, but was able to disguise it with my healthy glow, ha ha. Oh well, it may be just a temporary lapse of reason. My optimism is working its way back home to me. I know it will find me here, waiting in the usual spot. Under the covers.

Church

We went to church today and I was actually disappointed that the sermon wasn't longer. It was a guest pastor and he didn't hit all the points mentioned in the handout, but sitting there...it was like I wanted to spend the whole day going over the Bible with Anthony. We were getting along great this weekend and even if it's thanks to shopping, pill popping or bar hopping; outer space or inner peace, it still means something. One day at a time - that's what's working for me lately. If I can just get us all through one day intact, no fights or tears, it starts to build a foundation. Sometimes it gets broken down piece by piece till there IS NO PEACE. I feel like the situation is hopeless in those moments. I want to take Elise and run away before she gets damaged by the negative force field being created around us all. But when we are a happy, typical middle-class family, going out to the bouncy place, dinner, shopping for gigantic mega-toys for her (like the Barbie Jeep that even has a stereo in it!), then I'm blown away by the wholesome happiness. I feel like an accomplished writer or a talented artist who has finished a masterpiece. My beautiful family. I've wanted a family to call my own ever since my spotted childhood. I want to give Elise what every child deserves. A solid foundation to build her life on.

Systematic-Problematic

We have the perfect ingredients for a happy family and all the good things that encompasses. Except for sanity. My husband is constantly a rollercoaster of anger, neediness, greediness, just an unsympathetic in-your-face bully.With our beautiful daughter telling us stories and scratching his back to help him fall asleep, he can continue to degrade the both of us. It makes her cry, this makes him angrier. I don't understand what changed him. Another girl? His new "assistant" who although single, childless, and 20 years younger than us apparently holds the secret of being a great mother and wife and has told him I'm not it. He tells me how she has critiqued my mothering style and declared my child ruined. Yes, she is so worldly and wise she is quite sure my 3 year old daughter is already an unfixable mess. Now, either he is making this up to hurt me and Elise, or he actually discusses our private family matters with his new co-worker. In either case, he is bullying a 3 year old girl who thinks the world of him. He has been terrible to me before, but now he's allowing some other girl to put me and my child down. He says this girl is secretly pregnant, although she states on her profile that she's single. He says its a secret because it's a co-workers. I just hope he's not the co-worker. She's far enough along that it coincides with the night he stormed out and went out with her, coming in after midnight. Thank God for nosy friends and cell phone cameras. He's been a terror ever since then. I pray he didn't knock her up. That's a dealbreaker,(thank you, Tina Fey!)If he did I will know. Because I know he's half Japanese and she doesn't. But his son and my daughter both show it. That's how I'll know it! I almost ran home to my dads with Elise, but I was afraid to take that big step (and long drive). I pray that our family is still intact, but his erratic mood swings are still tearing us apart. I love being a wife and mother, but he wants to be taken care of, financially. I haven't worked full-time since I had my baby. She'll be my only one, I think, so I've given her my all. And I'm so proud of her and that I was able to change my way of life to accomodate this mini-me. I shouldn't even be writing about this. It's just speculation and a lonely housewifes crazy fears. But it keeps me up at night as I hold her close to me. She deserves a perfect life. That would include a perfect mother AND father. I hate that I can't just WILL it into being. I'll just keep returning my daughter's bright smiles back to her, and keep telling her we're all happy. Then maybe we will be.

Her 3rd Birthday!

Elise got a Dell Inspiron mini (Nickelodeon version) for her 3rd birthday from my father and me. My Dad doesn't even own a computer or care to, but she LOVES it! It's pretty cool looking too. Being 3, she's not a very materialistic person so she doesn't care so much that she got oodles of presents, but she did act like one of those people on Wheel of Fortune who just won a car when it arrived. She was hoping her Grandpa Roger himself were delivering it, so she was a little disappointed that she didn't get to see him. Even though I've heard it's better to come from a broken home than to live in one I still think maybe it's better we stay together for now. He is not the most romantic person in the world or the sweetest, but it's probably safer to keep him around for now. I really wish I could trust him, that he was sweet, and that he didn't take our love for granted, but there isn't anything better for us right now. I hate that we don't go on dates or that he'll take us out only to abandon us under the pretense of "oops, forgot to roll up my windows on the truck at home, be right back!", leaving us alone at the bouncy park without transportation or money while he disappears who knows where. He is SO inconsistent with his moods and given our past I worry a lot of the time that it's because of drugs. I'm always worrying that one day he'll push it too far and we'll have to leave him. I have nightmares, so does she apparently. I'm afraid his mood swings will get like they were 5 years ago. I know there is no dealing with a speed freak. Pills, crack, coke, meth...they all are a recipe for madness. There is no compassion, no pity, no remorse when you're dealing with someone like that. And there is a part of him I feel is unreachable. No matter how adorable his baby is or how pleading I become he can be cruel beyond forgiveness. Which is how I've become. Hardened, unforgiving. I remember every stroke of evil he's painted on my canvas. But at night, as we lay together with Elise between us, things are purposefully forgotten so I can rest and enjoy the beauty of living 3 in a bed with our daughter. She reminds us to read a Psalm every night, saying "Amen!' loudly when we're done. I read her her bedtime stories then she tells me to turn the light off. We immediately get into "cuddle position", where she curls up in my belly and my arms wrap around her. Sometimes she hums songs or pets either one of us on our arms or face, and I fall asleep so much easier than I ever did before. Sometimes she awakens from a nightmare, or still in it, yelling "No! Stay away!", and we both wake up to comfort her until she's aware it was only a bad dream. I feel like this is the right way for families to be. We are all where we belong - together. I've never been a cuddly person, (not that I remember anyway), but I have become one. She allows me to be and I love it and who I am: A good mommy. I don't think it's changed him much one way or the other and I think, "How can it NOT?". How can he stay so selfish, so in love with being trapped inside his own self and not feel alone? Can't he see that this is how things should be? I love these times. I only wish he did, too. These are the days of wonder, vulnerability, of feeling like the fragile human God meant me to be. I would give anyone anything to make them feel as whole as I feel in these moments. I wonder who he is inside? And am I wrong for caring? I'm so confused...I can only be who I am. And on nights like these, with the bed full of love and family, and the pounding rain and thunder outside, I am a very grateful person.