Her

Perhaps one of the nicest things about being young and idealistic is because whether you are right or wrong, you feel that your opinions, your goals and your feelings matter. Maybe they don't matter to the person next to you, or to someone across the world, but to you they matter.

Once I felt like I was a goddess, not in terms of beauty or wealth, but in that I held in my hand the possibilities of a thousand lifetimes. I was a young, attractive and smart women in the time of the new millenium, the years that no one and nothing could or should have held me back. There was no glass ceiling placed above my head, no strings to pull at my heart. I was free, free to go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted, do what I wanted, with whom I wanted. It was all about me, and my wishes, dreams, desires. And I knew. Barely out of high school I had dreams of ruling the world, making my name known, taking my place as leader of people...

Today I don't know where that precious girl has gone. She disappeared, quickly, in the last few years. Sometimes, in the mornings, when the rest of the house is asleep, I wake up with a start, sitting up and gasping, as if she is trying to save herself from drowning in the life I have put her in, desperately clawing to get out, to make her mark, to DO something. You see, she doesn't feel like I have done anything in our life. She feels that without a college degree, without being a "power" worker, and staying stuck in this place, we are a worthless individual. We have talent, we have intelligence, but no one values me because to them I am just a mother. I work over forty hours a week in a nice paying, normal secretarial job. She thinks she should be working 80 hours a week bringing money in hand-over-fist. I take and pick my children up from school, she thinks she wouldn't have wanted children. I envision my perfect marriage, with a perfect husband and my two adorable daughters. She envisions Armani suits, 4-inch heels, and a blackberry permattached to her ear.
It's not that I begrudge her. Sometimes I wish I could rewind time and focus on where our paths diverged. Half the time I want to be her, half the time I'm thankful I am not her.

NaBloPoMo

In honor of this month, I figured that I would try to get stuff out here on my blog. I can't promise everyday, especially weekends, and so here goes.
I don't understand people that come hang out at my office and just walk around waiting on folks for hours. Especially when you are trying to let the boss(es) know that you want to leave early. I know in my office, it can be especially hard to get an answer from Boss A or Boss B, but still, quit walking around my desk, hoping to run into one of them.
Anyway, I will get pics of the girls at Halloween up sometime this weekend, although I am mad at myself for buying Cici a "black cat hat" and losing it until sometime last night (one day after Halloween). Also, she had some portraits done at school yesterday, and instead of any kind of "Christmas-sy" clothes, she had what looked like an Easter dress on. Oh well. She is so small and fits into 3 months size clothes now, when she is 6 months old, I have no choice but to get her into some of the very cutest stuff we got as shower gifts before she can't wear them anymore.
In workout news- still sore from workout on Wesdnesday, but liking the burn. However, I am going to have to "re-do" the actual workouts to allow for time. MWF will now be weight-lifting, leaving T and TH for cardio. I am more concerned with toning the problem areas than I am with losing a whole bunch of weight.

Frustration

I have never been the type of person who willingly threatens physical violence when upset, but lately I have just really been wanting to kick the shit out of my husband's ex-wife. She is truly truly crazy, and her craziness is making me crazy. She has made several attempts to ruin my relationship with my husband, and everytime she does, she just reinforces my belief that she should not be a parent, and that her death would make me ecstatic. She accuses my husband of cheating on me with her, she comes to my house and tries to act friendly and then she goes all nuts telling me that my marriage is over, then when I try to work things to better it for all of us, she goes nuts on the phone, and accuses me of harrassment.
I wish I could send her this letter
Dear Holly-
It is not harrassment when I call you to schedule a time to meet to give money to you for child support, but it is harrassment when you call my cell phone repeatedly blocking your number, wanting to speak to me. It is not harrassment for me to request that you call me instead of the husband in order to discuss a proper payment plan for bills, but it is harrassment to ring my doorbell thirty times in order for me to let you into my home. Also, no- I am not a part of your life, but I am a part of your sons' life. You might want to check yourself. I have been nothing but polite and civil to you. I have never threatened you. I have never demeaned you in anyway in front of your child, and you should be happy about that. I act like a grownup- you act younger than your toddler. So what? I took your toy away, its been over a year- GET OVER IT. You really don't want to get me mad. I have more connections in this state in higher places that you will never know about. I can get custody taken away from you in the blink of an eye. I don't want to. I would rather just live in some kind of harmonious civility. But, Holly, I will. I can make your life hell, and if you keep pushing it- I will.
Alas- I cannot. I am too devoted to my stepson and my husband to call her out. I am sure that if I did, she would just take us back to court and it would be neverending, and I can't have that happen to C. I lived my life with my parents bickering, and I hope that she gets the picture before she ruins his childhood.

A Little Divine Retribution

So it has been a good while since I last posted on my blog, but I am itching to get back to a normal posting schedule, especially since I don't get to talk to a lot of my friends that live outside the area. Anyhow- I am typing this painfully slowly as my right hand is swollen and covered in Band-aids. Why? You may ask, and I will tell you.
Last night, I made the mistake of going around the house, checking on the girls, and making sure the house was ready for bed... You know- lights out, air on, little buggies covered with their soft blankets, etc. I saw Brandon's phone on the table next to the couch, and I grabbed it. It is sort-of his backup alarm for the morning, and I wanted him to know where it was. So as I was walking back into our room, he made the gesture to toss the phone to him, I did. It landed on his special manly place, and hurt him really bad. Now- it was a TOTAL accident, and I was very very sorry that it happened. I can't throw worth a damn, and even if I had tried to hit him there, I couldn't make it. But- after he doubled over in pain, I laughed. I laughed hard, I almost cried. I knew he was hurt, and I was telling him how sorry I was, but it was just funny to see him with his face in the pillow. At first I thought it didn't hit him there, and he was just acting, but nope. Bullseye.
So that brings us to today. I'm a believer in karma. Not the whole truly spiritual Tibetan monk karma, just the you hurt someone yesterday, you will hurt today kind. So- as I was walking out of the daycare this morning, I nearly got to my car and realized that the keys to the car where back in my Cici's classroom. So I turned around and tried to jog back in. Well- I was stepping (hopping) over some sand and gravel that collects near the curb and caught my foot on the concrete step, thus tumbling ass over teakettle this morning. And, of course, my best friends husband saw the whole thing, plus two or three other parents. So- my right hand is all scraped up, as is my right shoulder and left knee, plus I think I might have broken one or more tiny bones in my hand. Divine retribution, betches!
Now I am debating on whether to take my wimpy self to the Primed to get an x-ray done, or simply tough it out and have my OB/GYN look at it tomorrow and have him tell me if I should go somewhere and get it looked at. Yes, I said my gyno. He is my favorite dr., and he will steer me in the right direction. Anyway, that's it for this morning. Maybe I'll get hit by a car this afternoon, and then for real need to do some good deeds to get out of my negative karma state.

Okay- Official Soccer Mom!

Here is my baby, at 5 years old a novice soccer player! I can't believe how big she is getting!

The Grammy's

I dont usually watch this- I usually devote Sundays to clearing my TiVo cash, but its already done, so here I am. Here are a couple of thoughts:
A- I'm really good at picking musical acts that go on to be stars- I loved Mary J. Blige, and here she is- winning all of the Grammy's it seems
B- Can Justin Timberlake get any hotter? His music is awesome- I loved his first Solo CD- and this one is better!
C- Are Terrance Howard and Mary J. married in real life? That is TOO cute- especially with them in that video...
D- I really like that TI guy too. His "Rubber Band Man" was really good, and I love him in JT's video.
E- I'm really geeked on JT. Someone save me. Must be hormones.
In other news- Is anyone else really really tired of the Anna Nicole story? She didn't do anything worth mentioning in her entire career or life, except give birth to two children- one who has preceded his mother in death, God rest his soul, and a daughter whose life already looks like it will be forever screwed up. Makes a story for a license to breed. Heaven help that little girl.
Alright- the Grammy's are back- and, Stevie Wonder? Really? Oh God- John Mayer- I really really hate him... So- off I go to watch Food Network until he is off. See ya!