How much longer until school starts back?!?!

Four kids has its joys: four hugs- four kisses- four "i love you's." And then, it has its frustrations: four mouths screaming, four pairs of arms to keep from hitting each other, four bodies to do laundry for. I swear... if I could get an equal amount of the joys to the frustrations... I'd probably feel less like I am going to pull my hair out. Truth is its been an insanely busy week. Every day the little one has had at least two therapies. And in addition to that in about 90 minutes we will venture out to the FIFTH doctor appointment THIS week. I have literally spent my days running around. Last night I was so exhausted that with the television and lights on I laid down and fell asleep. Chris was even on the bed working on his laptop. Eventually, he woke me up and asked me to move to my side. I vaguely remember rolling over. The good news is the weekend is not going to hot and its only mildly busy. That's more than I can say for the past few weekends.

School starts back in a month. August 30th to be exact. Its not like I am counting the days... oh wait... maybe I am. The sad part is that Nicolas will be starting middle school. I'm not quite ready to be the mom of a middle schooler. However, I suppose it was bound to happen eventually. He's kind of quiet and this is such a completely new experience for him. I'm a bit nervous. I remember my first day of middle school. I started @ Thomasville Middle School in Thomasville, NC. I remember the long halls, and the bells, and switching classes. It was also a new school district for me. So, I didn't have any friends coming in. It ended up being an okay experience I suppose. But I remember how things changed. The expectations were greater. The acknowledgement of puberty was greater. The risks were greater. I guess regardless of MY preparedness or lack there of- we have a month and then its go time. I may cry his first day.

Met my little one's new doctor today. He was very nice. Attentive. I'm pretty picky when it comes to the healthcare providers that I choose for my children. I want someone who is equally able to listen to my concerns and steer me in the right direction. Its interesting the accurateness of a first impression. I've found that in most cases my first impressions line up in the long run. However, there are the occasional ones that don't. Regardless, this new doctor will be a good match for us. I never want to feel rushed and he certainly didn't make me feel that way. I do hate going through all the details of her history- including legal and genetic- but there are times that it is necessary. Other than the fact that I was @ the office for 75 minutes- everything else went exceptionally well.

Ok- I've stolen enough time for this. Back to laundry- and the doctor's office. :-(

That's alright because I love the way you lie...

Don't know if many realize it but Eminem just released a new album called "recovery." My brother in law told me this is his attempt to write through "coming clean." The first song that has been released is called " I love the way you lie" which he collaborates with Rihanna. The lyrics on this song are intensely rich. If you haven't heard it...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_6_OlbxYLc
Not for little ears... that is my warning. I think the song is a perfect example of a codependent unhealthy abusive relationship. If you have ever wondered what it must feel like to be in that situation... here it is for the world to experience.

Speaking of unhealthy relationships... heard last night that my dad apparently moved back to Utah to be with his second wife. He mentioned this in his "happy birthday" to my mom on the phone last night. He said he 'believes in second chances.' On the flip side of this, my sister and her husband helped him get away from his second wife who he painted as an insane party girl. So, for him to up and leave and not tell anyone and go back to where he said it was such a hopeless situation. I don't understand. My mother lost her job a few weeks ago and me and my sisters are very firmly trying to get her to understand that she doesn't need to be in Indiana anymore. We've opened our home and my sisters have opened theirs. Now, we just need to make some things change for her. Dad... I told my sister last night... at some point I fully expect I'll be overflowing with his bullcrap and then... I'll meltdown. But, for now, I'm still not there. I can't seem to make myself feel any emotion for him other than extreme confusion and distrust. Go figure.

Went to court this week. Just a 6 month review before the judge as is required by law for any juvenile in the system. Today marks 7 weeks that the TPR trial has been done. Seven weeks of waiting for a report from the judge. 7 more weeks of silence. Frustration is overwhelming some days.

premature heart pain....

I'll preface with: its been several years now since I've had any issues with my heart. I was regulated out on medication that helped and it got to a point where I was able to stop taking the meds. My heart has a functional/electrical misfiring which has left me with an array of issues. I had a cardiac ablation a few years ago. I have ongoing low blood pressure, and I have an arrhythmia in the lower chamber of my heart. I spent years passing out, fighting cold sweats and clammy skin, monitoring pvc's and doing stress tests. I'm 31, by the way. Anyway, in the past I have had instances of chest pain. In all instances prior, it has proven to be anxiety or stress related. I'm an internal ticking time bomb. I suppose all of us can only take so much, but mine eventually manifests in distress in my heart. So, after 10 days of on and off chest pain... waking in the middle of the night wondering if I was having a heart attack... reasoning in my head that I don't have coronary artery disease or high blood pressure or cholesterol... I finally ended up in the Emergency Department at the local hospital yesterday afternoon. I'm not the person who uses the ED (ER) and I hate the process that goes along with it. However, I started wondering if I was really missing something since this chest pain was continuing to wake me out of a sleep. I spent 8 hours there... and immediately they noticed that my heart rate was abnormally low. It stayed between 40-60 the entire time. I was considered 'bradycardic.' Now, due to my training- running- THAT can and will train your heart to work more efficiently and can cause prolonged low heart rate. However, being trained or not, a heart rate that low needs to be monitored specifically when there are symptoms. I had several EKG's, a telemetry monitor, a chest xray, an ultrasound on my leg for possible DVT, and a CT of my chest for possible PE. After all the workup, and an incredibly nice ED doctor, he gave me the option of being admitted or going home. OF COURSE, I chose to go home. The major concerns were ruled out and he is still insisting I have a stress test done- which I'll call my cardiologist about on Monday. However, the chest pain is still there. Bottom line: simplify. Stress is an interesting thing... we can't change the situations that come our way in most cases. But its not the situations that cause the anxiety- its our response to the stress that cause anxiety. So, today... I slept and laid around and didn't do much of anything. The week starts back full blast tomorrow- but I NEED a vacation. My heart and body and mind NEED to rest. I NEED to not feel so consumed by life. The good news is: after this work week... we have vacation. Friends are coming to stay for the week and we are going to the beach, and the pool, and the city, and having crabs and beer, and then to an amusement park. I NEED to laugh. I NEED to unwind. I NEED to throw my schedule out for a week and breath normally. For those of you who worry... don't. I'm trying to take this seriously. Nothing like laying in a hospital bed with a heart monitor on at the age of 31. I'll slow down, I promise.

Holy Dreams Batman...

plagued. That's how I feel these days. I cannot remember the last time I had a restful nights sleep. My options seem to consist of either: tossing and turning, up every 45 minutes all night, dreaming insanely crazy dreams, or some combination of the three. What I've noticed is: I'm a bitch. I'm not getting rest. I'm still running myself ragged all day- then add in my intense workout schedule lately. I'm naturally exhausted. But, that doesn't seem to matter. I do have a little blue pill- not that kind- Ambien CR 12.5 mg- which is a strong dose. I TRY very hard not to use them often. The truth is, when I take one... I don't remember falling to sleep. I don't remember anything until the sun comes up. You would think that is a good option. However, its really not. I feel drugged. During the day, I have little tolerance for the kids being uncooperative. I also find myself yelling at them a lot. Which, isn't something that I do frequently. The other issue currently is that Chris is in Texas, again. So, I don't have him here to take any parenting responsibility with them. Its fantastic really. I feel like I need to apologize constantly for being so upset and easily rattled. At this rate, its going to be a long summer.

On another note, mom is here. She suddenly lost her job last week. She walked in, worked half a day and then they pulled her into an office and told her that her position was being dissolved. They asked for her keys, her credit cards, and escorted her from the building. No warning. No nothing. They did offer her a severance package. Its not great, but it will help. In the meantime, I flew her out here and have no intentions of letting her go back there to live. I offered help to move her out of her apartment to either Nashville (with my sisters) or here. She did bring along her resume and interestingly enough, we found a PERFECT position for her at the local hospital last night. She is sitting in the other room right now updating her resume and I hope to have her applying for positions by the end of the night. She has no one in Indiana anymore and losing her job was just the kick in the butt me and my sisters have been waiting for to make her realize that fact. We'll see how this goes...

So, I've been killing myself at the gym. For the past two weeks- I've missed three days. My body aches from sore muscles but I'm finally starting to notice some change on my running time/pace. Also, even though the scale hasn't been completely reflective of my workouts and diet- my clothes are fitting better/more comfortably. My next race is just a 5k in mid August. Then, I'm not sure what I'm going to do from August until November. However, in November... I'm registering for the Philly half marathon. I made my decision a few days ago and I'm working hard training for this race. I will be ready.

Beating myself up...

I've spent 7 of the last 8 days... working out... hard. Every muscle in my body aches. I'm constantly reminded of the abuse to my body with every step and movement I make. Its especially irritating with involuntary movements. So, I decided to take today off. I definitely needed a break. My feet are covered in blisters from the many many miles I've run this week and my shoulders feel as though I could collapse from just the slightest of weights. Regardless of my discomfort, I feel good. I've spent the many hours in the gym this week thinking. If I found my thoughts to be too disheartening- I added more for my body to do. I've pushed myself harder than I ever have and I'm impressed that I could take it. I realize that for anything to be valued- work has to be done to give it value. Its a slow process... but its something that only I can do. I feel the drive in me coming back. I'm excited and motivated and I'm going to keep going. I'm going to do a half marathon in the fall. I can't decide between three locations- each being in its own merit- a good run. My choices are down to Baltimore, Richmond, Va, or Philadelphia, Pa. - I'm giving myself until mid July to make a decision because by the end of July I'll be full force in training for the race I choose. Chris says I'll never do it. I'm going to prove him wrong.

Snap out of it...

I feel like I need someone to smack me really hard and just say "snap out of it." Out of what? Well, I'm not really sure. I've realized lately (by my husband's own admission) that he isn't sure who I am anymore. Truth is: I'm not so sure myself. I remember a time when I was a little more pleasant to be around. Back then, I enjoyed the party... enjoyed even more HOSTING the party. Now, I run away from the party. If I could figure out a way to be by myself... I'd jump on it. However, I am the mother to four and the wife to one and the friend to many. Not sure how good a friend I am anymore... actually, probably pretty crappy. But, I've have the few that I hold tight to and hope that they don't give up on me like the others have. I've spent what is going on three years in a fog. Some days, weeks, months were better than others. But definitely had periods of time when I'd rather run away and never come back. I've given up on the 'fake.' The facade that we all play to cover our reputation for others. I don't care. Many talk, few do anything but talk. The image of the person looking back at me in the mirror is becoming more familiar but its not the person I once was. When Chris and I were in college... when I was young and naive (he says I was NEVER naive) and had the whole world figured out... that girl looked a lot different. We have the same eye color- but my eyes are now just a bit darker. They aren't so welcoming anymore either. They're still a mix of two warm colors... a unique quality found in few. But, they're guarded and untrusting. I'm not sure when that happened. Was it an overnight experience? Probably not. Regardless, they've changed. Some days I feel bad for Chris. The woman I am today is certainly not the girl he married. Once optimistic, now realistic with a side of pessimism. Once driven, now angry. Once carefree and playful, now unamused and weighed down with life. I told him recently that I don't understand how we've gone through many of the same experiences in the past 5 years of our marriage and yet he seems unbothered by it all. I realized that I internalize everything. I may not blow up about it immediately. I may seem to let it go to some degree. But the truth of the matter is... whether or not I talk about it... its still there. He, on the other hand, truly lets it go. I don't understand that. Maybe if I did... things would be better rather than worse. I guess I'm contemplating this all because once again the reminder that life is short has come back up. In the course of the past week, two friends from high school/college have suddenly passed. And my sister is facing a major change in her health as well. I'm just tired. I want to live life like there is no tomorrow. I want to bask in a beautiful starry sky sipping a glass of wine. I want to smell honeysuckles and taste them again like its the first time. I want to wake up in the morning and love my life. When does that happen again?

Chivalry versus Feminism

I was at a public building today. As I was walking out there was a man walking in. If I had to guess, I'd say he was my age or a little younger. As he hurried through the doors- as I waited... he opened the door just enough for himself to get in and walked past me. I found myself agitated. He seemed like a real ass. Why? I realized that I am used to a door being held for me. And it was surprising how I reacted when a man didn't show that courtesy. I'm a southern girl at heart. I spent my adolescence in a little town called Thomasville, North Carolina. Down there, boys are raised to be respectful men. You hold the door open, you allow the woman to go first, and you pay. I know that in an effort for women to be seen 'equal' to men some women have expressed their disinterest in doors being held for them, in waiting and going second, and in paying their own way. These women are caught up in proving they can do what men do... and maybe they can. However, for me, call it what you will: I appreciate it when the door is held open for me. I appreciate it and I say thank you. I don't see it as an inequality type of issue. I see it as a small gesture of respect. I'm even further impressed when a car door is opened. Silly? Maybe. But, I want to teach my son to open the doors, and wait on the women in his life, and to pay when he asks her out... or when she asks him out. ;-)

As I was talking to Chris last night, we discussed how we can get back on the 'healthy wagon.' It struck me that I got an "A" in my nutrition class this semester... I KNOW the right things to do and I know what we are doing wrong. The real test isn't in KNOWING the right things... its in doing them. This point is true in most areas of life. Just with being 'healthy'.... sometimes the right thing is the harder thing. I tend to want to take the easy route... but then I'm unsatisfied with the road I'm traveling. You could say there is a lesson here in contentment. However, isn't discontentment what propels us (in general) toward change? Isn't it when we become indifferent and complacent that we find ourselves gaining weight and getting flabby? This is obviously just an example but I think its an appropriate one. Somehow there has to be an even ground between healthy and fat. Driven and complacent. I think they call it depression. I don't really want to be in the middle... I want to be driven. But, I can't make myself. I want to make the right decision, even though it hurts sometimes. But, I make the wrong decision. Its not just enough to know. Action has to come from knowledge or else knowledge is void.

Restlessness and bummed...

I've found that one of the hardest things as a mother is to find good medical care. Its interesting that in an area that has such medical resources that it has taken me years to find some of the doctors that I trust my children to. I've found that all doctors are not created equal and some of the ones backed by the best hospitals in the country... are still... well, subpar at times. In a whirlwind yesterday, I found out that my little one's pediatrician is moving to Florida. It is a family decision and one that he had to make. However, it took me six months to find him and we've only been with him for a little over a year. Bummed is an understatement. I've found that he was attentive and persistent in the same token. I left his office yesterday very sad... we'll miss him... but now... I have to find someone that I trust again with the special needs of my youngest. This is NOT an easy task.

On a similar spectrum, my third child yesterday made an emergency visit to her pediatrician (who is different than the one above) due to being sent home from school wheezing. I spent several hours last night between sitting in this pediatrician's office and TRYING to understand her methods and then in xray, the pharmacy, and then again home contemplating. I think the bottom line is: when it comes to your kids... you want to keep them safe and protected. In doing that, you need to have a doctor that you trust. A doctor that you can call and not feel like you are bothering them or that they have "figured it all out" and who gives generic answers to complex questions. I realized yesterday, as the doctor told me she couldn't order a particular treatment because "your insurance won't pay for it" that we are in for BIG trouble. Since when does treatment depend on the money that an insurance company will or will not spend. I felt sick to my stomach. My six year lay there with dark circles under her eyes, blue tint to her mouth, and wheezing between gasping for breath (that I was advised was probably behavioral) and there was not a damn thing I could do. I kept a close eye on her last night, I talked to her school nurse today, and I'm keeping her home from a class field trip on Thursday due to the conditions outdoors. In the meantime, I hope and pray that she gets better and not worse. I'm nauseated by the whole thing.

School is officially out in 5 days. Its crazy to think that we've made it through an entire school year... our first in public school. All of the kids have done exceptionally well and I'm proud of them all. However, I'm also looking forward to not having to get up quite so early. Looking forward to summer vacation and spending lazy days at the swimming pool working on our tans. This is the last summer before my oldest starts middle school. I'm NOT ready for this transition. But, ready or not, here it comes...

Running running running...

I spent my morning today on the trail. 4.4 miles I ran/walked/pushed a jogging stroller with a toddler in it. I spent my night last night NOT sleeping. Not sure the source of the lack of sleep... other than maybe I couldn't breath due to allergies and sinus woes. However, when I got out of bed this morning I was exhausted. In case you didn't know, not a good start for a woman who runs around the way I do. Honestly, when I woke up this morning at 6am and then again at 6:15 and then again at 6:30... I should've just gotten up and gone for the run alone. BUT, I didn't. Instead, I waited for the morning to heat up and my daughter to be cranky to attempt the trail w/the stupid stroller. Now I find myself in a difficult situation... do I take a nap or do I bust out some housework. I know what the hubby would vote for. :-/

I posted a link to a photo from my facebook from the New Year's Resolution Run in Nashville, TN. It was a 5k- but, it should be noted that Nashville is VERY hilly- so the run was pretty intense with hills. I was ambitious with this one... signed myself and my husband (on the right) and my brother in law (on the left) up thinking maybe it would limit the 'fun' we have on New Year's Eve. I can tell you, that morning was one of the worst mornings I've ever had. Ironically enough, we found out on New Year's Eve that my dad had flown to Vegas and married a woman he had only known for about 3 weeks (and met on the internet). Not a good night... and alcohol was too easy a way to drown our sorrows. The men in the family kept their heads on (although, it was me and my sister's- whose father had just made an ENORMOUS mistake). I'd like to mention that he and mom had only been divorced for about 3 months when he made this decision. Anyway... I wanted to do this run... because it was a new year. HOPING that this year would be better than the last. I can say now, at least we did it. However, I realized this morning that its the only race I've done this year. SO... its time to lace the shoes back up and get the miles clocked. I'm signed up for a vineyard run in August and looking into a run for July. I plan to retrain through the summer- and the Baltimore Half Marathon is my fall goal. I've said this for a year now... and actually signed up for a Half in VA beach and wasn't prepared to run it. So... its go time. Maybe it will help me sleep too :-).

What little control I have...

I cut my hair. Well, I had my hair cut. I realized last week as I was sitting there and my 'hair girl' was cutting inches and inches off my head that I tend to do this in the midst of hard times. I guess everyone gets to a point where they NEED change... or for women, specifically, you kind of just get sick of the look you have. However, for me, I think I do it as a method of control. My hair is one of the VERY few things I have total control over. Long, short, colored, not, up, down, straight (kind of), curly. So, on day two of the trial last week, I came home and called my girl and she came over and cut it off. Not too short- chin length... but I didn't tell anyone... or ask anyone. I didn't prepare anyone for what I was doing. I just, on a whim, got it cut. For me, I guess its an outlet. Of course, its a limited outlet. However, it works. I instantly felt better. I don't regret doing it. And I like how it looks. WIN/WIN/WIN. Chris, on the other hand, different story.

Court last week... if I had ONE word to sum it up: conflicted. I sat on the witness stand undergoing questioning from three different attorneys. I was told that I remained articulate and did well. It didn't feel like that sitting up there. I can say that I did my best and I believe that I accurately represented my child, her needs, and her as a part of my family. I went home every evening completely drained. Vulnerability and frustration have remained my 'life' for years now. I'm really looking forward to the day that my emotions come back off my sleeves and my thoughts become as concrete as the drive for my children is. I don't know if that will ever happen again... but I certainly do hope.

I've spent a lot of time (compared to usual) thinking back through mom and dad's divorce this past week, too. And in the light of control... the fact that the longer you share a relationship with someone (regardless of the quality of that relationship) the harder it is to break ties. My parents divorce will be a year old in a few months. It is still hard for me to disassociate them, at times. But, nearly a year later, I've realized that neither of them has REALLY moved on. Dad tried, I guess... but of course, thats a deep well of analyzing. I think, for me, it just shows that regardless of the health or unhealthiness of the relationships we allow in our lives... change sometimes seems impossible.

A few days... a hard week

At the risk of seeming melodramatic, sometimes I feel like my life is a huge tornado. I'm caught in the middle of this huge destructive force that takes out homes and families and shelters and food and people. I, personally, am not the tornado... I'm just caught in the middle of it. Not the middle that has the peaceful, sun shining, beautiful eye... the middle that allows me no way to escape and so I either surrender to the force and go with it or I fight and become a result of the destruction myself. That may not be the best example... but I'll elaborate.

I've spent two plus years JOYFULLY loving a child that I was given. I do believe God allowed her to be placed in my care and protection. I'm not much for the 'everything happens for a reason' camp... but regardless, I've been fighting for the opportunity to be legally deemed this child's mother for over 26 months. It became clear early on that she (I'll not name her- for protective purposes) has a wide array of developmental delays. These delays range from physical to congitive. In the middle of that, I've rushed forward seeking resources to help this child in every area I can. There have been days of frustration and days of disappointment. However, there have been days of great victory and days of massive accomplishment too. Not one day have I ever felt burdened by loving this child. Not one day have I ever felt any differently toward her than I have my other three kids. She is mine... in my heart, in my soul, in my life. She is mine. But legally, she is someone else's.

Tomorrow I begin, what I anticipate to be possibly the hardest days of my life to date. I will sit on a court stand and testify to this child's needs. I will testify to her place in my home and family. I will testify to loving her as my own. I will also look into the eyes of the man who created her life and whole heartedly affirm that he should not be given the right to father her. Its harsh, I know. The circumstances are complicated and ugly and one day I will write a book which details those circumstances. In the meantime, I will spend the next three days of my life sitting in a court room listening to testimony after testimony. I will listen to details of facts that I know little about. I will watch the birth father and his family and I am sure I will be sick. I cannot fathom EVER being in that position. I will NEVER be in that position. But, deep down, I do feel something... not remorse... but something- as a parent myself- that makes it hard for me to sit there hard and emotionless as I pile on to the reasons why he is not fit to be a part of this child's life. He should not be given the opportunity to father her. I have NO questions about that fact. Again, there are a million details I can't go into... but those details are also what makes my heart hurt over this situation. I find myself wondering, is it possible to really hate the man who created a child that you adore? I'm clear headed- my mind is sharp and ready. My heart is heavy and sad. Here goes everything...

No way to sugar coat it

There are two things I hate more than anything.  Number One:  DO NOT yell at me or raise your voice at me in a public place.  If you have a problem, there are other ways to communicate it.  Specifically, there are other places to communicate it.  Number Two:  I HATE looking like a fool.  I guess one and two both kind of correspond.  I think the bottom line is I don't like to be humiliated or disrespected.  Of course, who does?  Ordinarily, number one is something that I constantly bitch at my husband about.  He is short fused and tends to find the most inappropriate times to say the most inappropriate things.  I think I first remember this type of instance happening when I was young.  My dad would raise his voice at my mom or me or my sisters in public.  It embarrassed me,regardless of who the subject of the tongue lashing was.  I see it as the most inexcusable form of humiliation.  However, a close second is number two.  Number two happens when you expect a certain outcome- maybe because its been told to you what to expect or maybe because its the logical outcome of a situation- and BANG you find out (either by accident or by direct contact) that the outcome is wrong.  Thus, you (I) am the fool.  I know number two seems confusing.  But really, its not.  Truthfully, number two has to do with trusting someone and then realizing that there is a level of deceit or even blatant lieing.  With number two- the same thing happens to me as with number one... I'm embarrassed and I feel stupid.  In both instances, I have a hard time recovering from someone I care about doing this to me.  I find it interesting that in both cases also, it is typically someone that proclaims or implies some type of mutual care/relationship.  Maybe I'm just babbling.  Truth is... I was hurt today.  It doesn't take much these days... but regardless, it makes those walls of mine just a little higher and my heart just a little more jaded.

I ran to try and clear my head of the above.  It didn't work.  So, I biked.  It didn't work either.  I'm hoping venting will.  And now, I'm just sore from 7 miles of abuse to my body and ready to climb into bed at 7pm.  Healthy, I know.

You've got to be kidding me...

On April 21st, Emma was diagnosed with strep throat. In the course of the past month, she has had strep twice (we got her second dx today), Julia has been diagnosed with strep twice, and Nicolas has been diagnosed with strep once. Prior to the past month, Nicolas had his tonsils out due to reoccurring strep infections. Obviously, the tonsilectomy didn't help him much. I'm so frustrated. When I went out to get the fifth antibiotic of the month, I went ahead and threw some Lysol wipes, bleach, hand sanitizer, new tooth brushes, and new toothpaste. I'm seriously over the sickness. Its GOT to stop. In the meantime, I have a sore throat. :-(

Chris' 33rd birthday hits in about 8 minutes. Of course, he's still in Texas... actually out on the town tonight. I made a few threats via text message on his anticipated good behavior. As long as they all don't celebrate too much tonight... he'll be just fine.

As ridiculous as it may seem, as tired as I am these days... once I fell to sleep last night, I had a terrible time with dreams. I know there are times when my conscious life creeps DEEPLY into my subconscious during my sleeping hours... but I wonder from time to time just how much of dreaming is a manifestation of what we refuse to verbalize in consciousness. I know you have those random dreams where you're being chased by a giant slice of pizza, you trip and fall and then you realize... hey, I can eat the damn thing. But what about dreams that have a little more realistic tone? I can't seem to figure out the trigger button. I don't know why some nights I lay my head down and I don't move until my alarm goes off. No waking. No dreams. Just sleep. And then there are other nights when it seems as though I wake every 25 minutes and every dream is sequential to the dream before. I see people I don't expect in situations I don't expect to be in. I respond in ways I don't think I'm capable of and then I wake. Some situations are scary... some are just interesting. I don't want to go into detail... but if my dreams become any more lively... i'm going to need to write a book.

I suppose I'll end with that. I'm hoping to sleep tonight. If not, maybe I'll be back...

good night. sweet dreams. ;-)

Texas- His second home

I thought maybe this would be a good outlet for me. A place to keep track of life... since I have so much spare time these days (insert sarcasm here).

Chris flew to Texas this evening, again. His company has launched a huge marketing campaign and Chris is involved in the financials and planning of this new venture. So, he spends another week, almost, in Dallas. We agreed back at the end of the year that it would be okay for him to travel more, and so I knew this would be happening. I'm fine with him being away and I'm getting used to sleeping lightly. Lizzie (my pup) stands guard at night and barks at any sound she hears. I walk around at least twice and make sure that all the windows and doors are locked. My phone stays in its usual spot of underneath my pillow. My kids doors are open and my in laws are right next door... if I should need them. I mostly spend the evenings bickering with my girls (after they are in bed) because they don't seem to settle down and go to sleep for me the way they do when their daddy is here. Go figure. Today, Emma has been coughing pretty badly... which doesn't necessarily mean anything. However, I did have to wake her twice after she fell asleep tonight to give her a breathing treatment and then again to have her inhale albuterol. All is silent in the girls room since the treatment.

I just finished my first semester back to college. I'm going a little nuts waiting for grades to be posted. I think professors have until midnight tomorrow night. I decided to take the summer off... right now, I kind of wish I had decided to continue through but I could use the mental break. I anticipate a B in my Nutrition class. I was borderline the entire semester with an A- but I just don't think I made it. The statistics class on the other hand, kicked my ass. I have never had a harder class in my life. My brain just doesn't seem to contort to the shape of statistical math. I recently found out that these classes are basically obsolete anymore anyway because software and computer programs has made it unnecessary. We'll see how this semester ends up. I restart in the fall taking 9 hours. 6 of those are psychology hours online and then 3 hours is an research writing/english class. The good thing is that in December, I'll graduate with an AA in Psychology. The degree is COMPLETELY unuseful. However, it will help me with moving into the BSN program @ Towson University starting in January. I'm now officially the last one in my family (my parents and sisters) to complete my bachelor's degree... I'm proud of Rebecca... and now Tiffany is working on her masters. Dad already has a masters... mom finished her bachelor's years ago. I want to finish mine. Chris says he doesn't understand why I'm so bent on continuing. He says "I have all my needs met and someone who is happy to do that for me." I have been ineffective in articulating to him that its something that I need to do. I want to be an example to my kids... to finish what you start... even if it take 15 years. I want my girls to know that having an education is important. I need to finish this degree to prove to myself that I can do it. It is hard work... and I am doing it at an impossible time in life. But if the impossible times in life don't press us toward change then we're stuck without hope. I'll press on.

The last few days have been a little... a lot... emotional. Lots of crap happening with Sophie and we go to TPR next week. We've waited for 26 months for this court appearance... and we're 8 days away. My nerves are shot... I try not to think about it. In the meantime, I feel completely self destructive. Its crazy. Really. I say things. Do things. Things that I KNOW are bad... things that I know good can't come from. But, I can't seem to stop. I find that its very difficult for me to attach to people for the same reason its not easy for me to unattach to them. Its all an unhealthy cycle of lack of trust and lack of confidence to leave things behind that aren't good. I have watched person after person become someone different than who they said they were over and over and over again within the course of the past two years. I've been trampled down and kicked by people who said they were "believers." I don't question their salvation, I know we're all sinners. What I do question is if anything in their life is true and real. I wonder that about everyone, really. I mean... does everyone live a different life behind closed doors? Is there anyone out there who IS what they appear to be? I have come to seriously doubt there is anyone like that. I think we're all hypocrites in same form or fashion. We look out for our reputation, we look out for our families reputation. We don't want anyone to think bad things about us... and certainly don't want anyone to see the ugly truth. I think I've realized that once we accept that we're all flawed... some more than others. Or we realize that there is no such thing as a perfect relationship... maybe we can rest a little in knowing we aren't so different from everyone else. My question: When do we all tear the walls down and stop dancing around the truth with fairytale lies?