So I’ve been having this issue with my WordPress* stat counter on this site.  I installed a stat counter from an outside source, you know, just to see if it is WordPress, or if I’m just so incredibly boring that, really, no one reads me.  *whew* turns out I’m not totally boring.  I even get one or two return visitors! (yea, me!)  And then there is the dilemma…

My handy-dandy stat counter (from statcounter.com) also give me the ability to see where people are reading me (like geographically)…seriously, there someone in Greece that has popped by, and even Cambodia…they have the Internet there?  Hmm…show’s how worldly I’m actually not!  Anyway, I have discovered that I have quite a few California readers (yea to all things Cali!) and apparently a couple (0r one really dedicated one) who uses the same company isp that my dad uses…dun, dun, dun!  Seriously!?

Ok, so maybe it’s a huge coincidence that my dad just happens to work for above mentioned company in the same location as this particular isp.  (Yeah, and maybe monkeys will leap from my bottom any minute now!)  I really don’t know how I feel about this!  Yeah, Mr. W reads my blog, and so do two other friends, but that’s it!  No one else I that I actually know in real life reads me.  I don’t even know any of my non-real-life-knowing readers at all (since ya’ll rarely leave comments…wink, wink, hint, hint, nudge, nudge…)  But my dad!?  I’ve talked about him a bit, or more to the point, I’ve talked about his wife a bit.  I’ve mentioned things, feelings, occurrences in my life here that I wouldn’t dream of telling him, not because I want to hide stuff, but because, really, how do you tell your father (who you see maybe once a year and only chat with briefly a couple times a month) about those everyday stresses catastrophes occurrences that make up life?  My dad and I are close, when we are together…

…well, sort of.  We enjoy a lot of the same things (cigars, wine, beers, football, golf, movies, music, gaming, traveling, the great-outdoors…) so we have a lot of fun together.  We talk a lot, or he talks a lot about a lot of things that are a little over my head, and I listen very  well.  We are just comfortable together.  It’s a bond that never goes away, doesn’t need worked on, is just natural.  At least I think that’s the case…  But as far as feelings, and hopes and dreams, and all of life’s other soft-and-gooey stuff, we kind of stick to ourselves.  And here, in my blog, my soft-and-gooey is running all through the seams, and he might be reading it, and he might think it all sucks, and I just don’t know how to feel about it!! 

Well, I facebooked him to see…if he’ll admit it.  If it’s not him, I will have no choice but to don my ninja garb and skulk around his office next time I’m in Cali to see which of his co-workers is checking in on my life.  Oh, don’t worry.  I won’t use my secret ninja moves on you, because quite frankly, I love you, all my wonderful readers.  But if you happen to be, say, my dad’s assistant, you may spill the beans some day and massive bribery on my part may be in order…at least until I figure out how I feel about my dad finding me here…

*ps.  Seriously!  Why is “wordpress” not in the WordPress dictionary??

There are countless elements to a relationship, to love.  In a perfect world, there would be a perfect balance of them all.  But, alas, we all know this world is not perfect and in that imperfection lies choices to be made on what elements you, the lover, are willing to look past in order to find your true happiness.

Lust:  Unfortunately, nowadays this particular element defines the start of most relationships.  It’s not a bad thing, just probably not the best thing to begin with in the grand scheme of things.  It’s that heart-racing attraction.  It’s that rush of blood to your head (and nether regions).  It’s light-headedness, heart-pounding, breathless, and all-together wonderful.  It’s those first precious interactions, before you know the person behind the attraction, when all you know for sure is the physical feeling that accompanies their presence.  Lust is that thing that takes you to another time, another place.  It makes you forget your worries, your stresses, your pains, and replaces them with the adrenalin and purity of pleasure.  Nothing else matters when you are caught up in the moment with that new lover.  No pain can touch you there.  No harm can come in those moments (or hours) spent in his or her arms.  But, alas, lust is often short-lived.  Life and reality often find their way in, shadowing those moments, and bringing you back.

Friendship: Friendship is arguably the best thing to base a relationship on, if you have to pick just one element.  Friendship isn’t nearly as short lived as all the others.  Friendship doesn’t have that tendancy to fade as it is developed over time and is a reflection of two people’s true selves.  Our true selves don’t change as drastically, therefore any relationship based on our true selves should have equal staying power.  Friendship brings the laughter and caring and trust into a relationship.  Just think of how many things we confide in our friends that we would never dream of telling our lovers.  In friendship, there is little pressure to be a certain way or hide certain attributes and feelings because true friendship means trust and openness and no fear of retribution for who you are.  But then there is the sticky side.  Friends that become lovers often let the introduction of those other elements cloud the core of their relationship (friendship) and soon find themselves pulling back their true selves, taking away what got them there in the first place.

Infatuation: I figure infatuation is a lot like love, but only on one side.  Infatuation give you the butterfly feeling in your stomach.  Infatuation provides those rose-colored glasses with which to view your particular object.  It clouds reality and makes you all topsy-turvy for no reason whatsoever.  Infatuation is just lovely, but infatuation is not love. Love takes two people, infatuation is something you can do all on your own.  I suppose it is possible for two people to be infatuated with eachother.  But there is a difference between that and two people being in love.  Maybe it’s what they call “puppy love.”  Maybe it’s the beginning of true love.  Maybe it’s just what happens when you have a couple elements lined up, but not quite all of them…

Security, Stability(, and all that other Shit): Too often, people enter relationships, or stay in relationships for these reasons.  We have kids, how can I make it on my own, we have years of history, I can’t start over again, blah, blah, blah.  I’ve done it.  I’m sure everyone has done it at some point in their lives.  There is this widespread theory that you have to work for happiness.  Yes, you have kids and a home and a “stable” life together, but without happiness, what is the point?  Yes, you have put in years, but really, in your last days, will you look back and be satisfied with the way you spent the years to come?  Stability and security aren’t all bad.  In fact, they very successfully take the stresses out of relationships that are often the downfall.  They make things comfortable and bring on a feeling of safety, both very enticing elements of life, and if nothing else entices you more, I suppose happiness is possible…

Love: I have no idea how to define love. Is love never ending?  Is love all-consuming?  Would we all lay our lives down for love?  Does love only really exist in fairytales?  Who knows.  I believed I was in love many times before.  But then I met Mr. W and felt love in a way I never knew I could.  Did I simply fall out of love with all the others, or did I never really love?  There really is no way to tell, just as I can’t describe love. I could say it’s butterflies in my tummy, but I suppose that is categorized under infatuation.  I could say it’s heart-pounding and light-headed, but that would be categorized under lust.  I could say it’s comfort and safety, but that is up there with all that other shit.  I do know that love takes two.

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love, and to be loved in return” –Moulin Rouge

So is true love the combination of all the other elements?  It seems that way.  When one of them is missing, it seems we question our “love” and whether it is real.  But does love take work?  Shouldn’t true love just fall into place like it does in the fairytales and great romances of the world?  Do the great lovers from the movies and the stories fight and stress and go weeks without sex after the cameras stop rolling and there are no more pages in the books?  Or is that why those stories are so appealing to us?  They provides us yet another unachievable goal with which to torture our sadistic souls.  They give us a dream, knowing we will always have to wake in the morning.  Or maybe they give us hope in this bleak world of pain of broken hearts and fading dreams.

Ok, so maybe I watched one to many romantic movies today.  Ones where the heroin is faced with the choice of stability, friendship, and personal dreams, all in the name of true love.  There are similar choices in all our lives as that ever-elusive, all-inclusive true love seems to live only in make-believe.  We must choose what will make us happiest and forgo all else, forever praying we made the right decision.  Or we delve into the things we were supposed to give up, gambling the (maybe) happiness we have for fleeting moments of percieved joy in another’s arms.

Either way, I’d say we, as a species are screwed.  So is the search for true love worth it all?  I have to believe the answer is a resounding “Hell, yes!” But I’m just a silly girl who still believes in fairytales, after all…

I’m at work today, and tired as hell.  My strange dreams, Mr. W’s strange sleeping noises, and rolling over on my sunburned shoulder kept me up all night, so I think it’s time for a easy post:  The things I want for my birthday!!

A Winning lottery ticket:

..ok, coming back to reality now…

An iMac and a MacBook Pro:

Hey, it’s my birthday wish-list.  I can be greedy!  I’ve wanted an apple/mac for as long as I can remember, and now, even more.  The iMac is obviously for my beautiful home workspace (thank you, Mr. W) and the MacBook Pro, well that is for my bright future of traveling/mobile photography.  Ok, not saying how far in the future, but a girl can dream right?!

A wide-angle lens for my D40:

I need some good glass to capture all those large-scale landscape and sky pictures I “see” but can’t quite get with the ones I have.  Auto-focus not a must, but definitely a plus.

A set of macro filters:

I do love taking those really close shots, and these will help me get that much closer for all the gorgeous details.

A star filter:

…so I can do this with my pictures.

Time:

I know I said I’d come back to reality, but seriously, just a day of extra time when everything else stops would mean so much!  Sleep, me-time, whatever…just time.

Something sparkly:

Well, not mega-sparkly, but something like this that reminds me of him.  See, I have this unconscious-made-conscious tendency to wear something of Mr. W’s, like, everyday.  It started when he left for Iraq, and it started with his socks… Maybe something like the above would relieve me from wearing men’s argyle socks in the middle of the summer with my sandals (not really).  Of course, I’m sure M and T are simply marvelous people…but our initials would be a plus…

A new tattoo:

I really do want another (or two, or three…).  Problem is, I want it to be my art the next time I ink.  I’ve got some sketches and some doodles, but nothing really nailed down…so this will have to wait anyway.

Hmmm…I guess that’s it.  It was hard enough to come up with these.  I do want a good book or two to sink my teeth into.  I want new clothes and new shoes (of course).  I want a cool desk-accessory set for my at-home workspace (my space).   There are multiple little things here and there, but really, I can get those myself when the desire arises.  I don’t know, maybe I’ve come to a place where I can differentiate between wants and needs and my needs take priority.   Nothing on this list is a need,  and yeah, they are wants, but in a it-would-be-really-nice-to-have-but-I-can-live-without-them-for-now sort of way.  Damn, I really need to work on my greedy side!

In less than a month I will reach the other side of the wide chasm of time, crossing into unknown and terrifying territory.  As I peer deeply into the thick forest of mystery, I take a deep breath and ponder my decision to move on.  But really, there isn’t a choice in the matter.  Moving on is a must, right?  I couldn’t possibly just stay where I am, forever…or can I…?  No.  It would be irresponsible and silly.  I must move on

…to 30…

Yeah, my birthday is coming up and it’s one of those silly milestone ones, you know the ones that make you think of all the things you thought you would be thinking about when you reached that age but probably totally aren’t.  One of those ones that makes you remember when you though 30, 40, 50, 60 was old.  Well, technically 40 and 50 are still old, and 60?  Like crazy old!  So I can still think that, but you get my point.  I’m so not ready to be 30.  Ok, so I’ve got a couple of kids. *check* but what about all the other stuff I was supposed to have accomplished by the time I reached my infirm 30′s?  (That’s when you go all infirm right?  Because my body isn’t nearly as firm as it used to be in my 20′s.  Oh, wait, infirm means something else entirely doesn’t it…damn, I really hope my perception is wrong…I hear adult diapers add a good 20 lbs to your butt…)

So, by 30 I was supposed to have kids *check* but I had planned on 5 (yeah, I was also insane as a child/teenager/young adult.  I’ve just gotten better at hiding it with my years of unfortunate experience.  Plus I had a borderline unhealthy obsession with being a Huxtable.)  By 30 I was supposed to have earned 1 or more degrees and have the perfect dream career.  In reality, I’m still struggling with my first degree, which I totally hate at the moment, and I have a job, which I also totally hate at the moment.  Oh, yeah, and after cycling through the what-I-want-to-be-when-I-grow-ups of Marine Biologist (I get sea sick), President (never mind my chemically-aided shenanigans of my youth), world famous fashion model (not here, obviously…in Short World, where being 5’5″ and a little thick in the middle is lauded as high fashion), a coffee barista (yeah, I had a slight low period in my ambition),  a hitman for a super cool yet ultra-secret society of rich, mad-men (…), and one of those people who figure out how much an insurance policy should cost someone based on a multitude of variables…you know, like Ben Stiller in Along Came Polly, only much nerdier, but cuter (have I mentioned I’m a bit of a geek?)…where was I?  Oh yeah, after cycling through all those possibilities and coming to the realization that while all those things are probably fine and dandy for the folks who do them, and while I could totally pull off anyof them with the flair and pizzazz of a true professional, they just didn’t fit me quite right and I’m left still trying to figure out what-I-want-to-do-when-I-grow-up. 

Problem is, I’m gonna be 30!  That means I’ve reached grown-up, right?  WTF do I do now?  It’s obviously all down-hill from here.  Those white hairs and wrinkles start sprouting like unruly weeds.  The infirmity sets in (yeah, I’m really not liking the prospect of that one) and I start needing naps in the middle of the day, infirm naps…I’m gonna have to invest in more sheets…  My boobs are going to begin to foster an intimate relationship with my belly-button.  I’ll begin forgetting things like my kids’ names and how to play Clair De Lune on a telephone key-pad and how many parsecs are between between Dathomir and Coruscant…what was I talking about again?  *Ahhhh!*  See, it’s begun already!

Gee, I had begun this post thinking I would put out a list for those who have been bombarding me with that terrible question: So, what do you want for your birthday?  Hmmm…maybe later…I think I need a nap…zzzzzzzz

The older I get, the shorter days seem to get…or maybe it’s just that time goes by at an accelerated pace…or that I’m just moving slower…whatever it is, it’s very frustrating. 

Mr. W and I were discussing this phenomenon last night over teeth brushing.  The time lay-out of our day goes something like this:

• 9 1/2 hour work days
• 1-ish hour commutes (total time)
• (striven for) 8 hours of sleep
• 1-ish hour to get ready in the morning

That is 19 1/2 hours out of our daily 24 doing crap we have no control over.  That leaves a measly 4 1/2 hours a day to do everything else.  Of course, that time gets compartmentalized further into making and eating dinner (1 hour, at least), cleaning up (another 15 minutes or so), bathtime/bedtime for the kids (another 30 -45 minutes).  So at the end of the day, there are usually only 2 hours of free time.  And then we are both in school, so those 2 hours are often eaten up by homework and/or studying.  Where the hell did all the time go!? If we want do anything in our off time, all the other probably-shoulds go away…no homework, no cleaning, no play-time, and probably not the suddenly age-required 8 hours of sleep.  (I thought getting older always meant you could stay up later!  We strive to go to bed at 9pm!)  It’s no wonder we’ve been second-guessing the whole gym idea.  There just isn’t the time in the day (or the energy in our bodies) to do it. 

I remember when I was younger and going to school full time on campus  and worked full time with an hour commute each way and kept a (fairly) clean apartment and I still had plenty of free time…which I inevitably wasted away with less than noble pass-times.  I remember in high school when the 5 minutes between classes was more than enough time to use the bathroom, stop by my locker, make out with my boyfriend, get into some mischief with my friends, and get to class and finish my homework from the previous night before the bell rang.  Now it seems like it takes me 5 minutes just to pee! WTF, man!?

It’s a conspiracy, I tell you!  Well, maybe not…but it’s like if you want to succeed in anything (work, school, self-improvement) you have to give up the things that are really important (time with loved ones, hobbies, relaxation).  Unless of course you are lucky enough to have that dream job that lets you work your own hours, doing your hobby, withyour loved ones…or you are independently wealthy…  I guess until I win the lottery, have some long lost rich relative die and by some fluke leave me everything, or I get discovered for my oh-so-fabulous talent to take pictures and doodle so that I can quit my job and make my own rules, I will have to just shut up and color in this time-sucking life. 

My new hero of sorts: Anne Liebowitz.  She has the life (at least from what I know about her life) that I dream of.  She is a fabulous photographer.  Her work has lived on the covers of Vanity Fair (remember that controversial Demi Moore cover when she was pregnant and naked?)

and Rolling Stone Magazine (remember the cover with Lennon and Ono, where he is naked and curled up next to her on a bed?)

 just to name two.  She takes the most interesting and beautiful photos, and what’s more, you can’t buy them!  She has complete control over her work, and what she wants to do with it, and whether she wants to do it at all.  She took portraits of Queen Elizabeth II, for crap’s sake! 

You can’t really do better than that in my book.

So…just when I am totally rethinking my whole entire previous post, seriously, because, as is designed, post-spewage (or post spewage, if you prefer) I generally feel much better about whatever horrid situation I am in.  Today being no different.  Of course, I was rethinking the post because Mr. W hasn’t yet read it (I don’t think) and I while I really want him to know what is going on in my crazy mixed up head, I don’t know if my public-blog-accessible-to-all-on-the-Internet is the best place to spill my guts to him.  But also I’m too chickenshit to tell him, like, in real life, like a person, ya know?  And as I’m pondering removing the post, I get a phone call, but not on my desk line, on the regular office line, which in and of itself is weird since I totally pimp out my desk line for everything, touting it as “my office number” like I’m some totally important big-shot CEO or something.  *hmm, maybe I could try passing it off as “my secretary’s” line and try the exotic Balinese voice I’ve been working on in all my spare time…*  Anyway, I got a call and the lady is all “I’m from LaFern and Shirley and I have a delivery for you.  What is your building number?”  (LaFern and Shirley…how incredibly cute is that for a florist name??!!) And I’m like “Dude, you totally ruined my surprise!…sigh…I’m in 2118.”  So, I’m getting flowers.  From Mr. W.  After being really bitchy to him for the last few days weeks who knows.  And then bitching blogging about him and all the frustration!  And… I’m an asshole!

So I emailed Mr. W who was coincidentally emailing me about something or other at this exact same moment, and was all “So…you sent me some flowers, huh?”  And he was like “What?  How did you know?? I just ordered them.”  And then, a perfect example of one of the many reasons I love him… “…are we in a time shift?”  And then we went into a witty email-back-and-forth about how Y just stabbed BL in the neck with a pencil, but he can’t die because the island won’t let him die, ever, unless we find someone even more “special” than him…which I totally don’t mean in a special-oh-you-are-so-special, ie talented, smart, or any other positive term kind of special, but rather an Olympian sort of special, but not the real Olympics Olympians, but the special ones, you know, that have their own Olympics…anyway, you get it, or at least Mr. W got it and that’s all that matters.  And if you don’t watch LOST you totally won’t get the rest of it either, but I do so I did and it made me smile because through it all, he does really get me, and I get him, and it’s jut great. 

Yeah, and he’s totally getting some tonight! 

Remember the good old days when you were all too eager to please your prospective mate, when you actually got greater pleasure out of doing all those sweet things for him/her than he/she even did?  Young love, honeymoon stage, whatever you call it, it all comes back to being nothing but a phase in the relationship.  But why?

Why is it the flowers and foot-rubs end?  Why does the sweetness and tummy-butterfly-flutter end?  Why does the constant consciousness of your “other” end? 

I remember the days when Mr. W would ask to rub my feet, nightly.  I remember when he told me how beautiful I was on a daily basis, sometimes more.  I remember when he was willing to do almost anything for a smile.  I remember when we couldn’t keep our hands (and lips, and …) off each other.  I remember when we could talk for hours and not even realize it.  And now?  Now we go to sleep at night.  Now we can go hours without saying a word.  Now I fish for compliments.  Now I have to erupt spell out my feelings of low to get a response from him.  Don’t get me wrong, his responses do end up being totally fabulous, but I miss the days when he just knew, and was ready to make it all better before I even realized what was going on.

I realize that I’m probably not the same as I was either.  But, just as he doesn’t realize his changes in specific, neither do I.  All I can say is the overall aura of our relationship has shifted to some other place and while I am fully prepared to take half the blame, I’m really not ready for the shift itself.  Problem is he probably won’t tell me my part of all this, content to stay quiet for his percieved peace’s sake, so I stay here blaming myself in the dark.

I started noticing these changes little by little over the last months, since his return from Iraq.  Something shifted in that time away, and while we have (probably) worked out the tension and thereby all but eliminated the conflicts, there is still something…different.  It has all become more poignant over the last weeks, with little expressed sympathy over my dad, and moreover, with the absence of the historically present overcompensation of loviness that used to accompany my son’s departures to his dad’s.  (34 days until I see him again!)  There was a time that he understood my bouts of depression that sometimes preceded and always followed a newly empty house.  There was a time that he would overcompensate, showering me with love and attention, taking my mind out of despair and onto some other distraction.  He got to the point (in all his wonderfulness) that he even launched pre-emptive strikes on my depression, making plans for my child-less time in advance, giving me something to look forward to.  But that time has apparently passed.

We’ve been a little pick-y at each other over the last week.  Granted, I blame myself for most of that.  He has been stressed over a test (which he passed yesterday, YEA!!) and school.  He also has been having some trouble in dealing with my kids…which worries me.  What if, instead of growing to love them even more, he ends up growing to dislike them?  I know they are a handful, and annoying, and at time royal pains in the ass, but they are my babies and he needs to love them and like them.  There is no other option.  Of course I haven’t been dealing well with those thoughts.  I get on mom-defense and lash out a little.  Add to that my tiredness, my own stresses, probably a little bit of PMS, and the imminent departure/post departure depression that has been knocking at my door, and I’m not being very pleasant or forgiving.

Dammit!  Since this is my blog and my space, I’m going to air my probably unjustified but no-less-real feelings here:  I’m bummed about a whole slew of things (my kids, my dad, my stresses).  I feel like I’m getting fat and unattractive.  I’m tired all the time.  And quite frankly I’m not getting some nearly as often as I’d like due to the tired/stress/general crankiness of us both.  And he’s supposed to fix it all, tha’s his job! (I told you this would be a little unjust)  I remember when I hit my all-time low, post separation from ex#2, mid-custody battles, pre-to-post bankruptcy, taking happy little white pills and mind numbing bigger white pills regularly, etc, etc (etc, etc, etc) and  it was Mr. W who pulled me out of that hole.  He breathed life back into my self-esteem.  He got me to a place where I could stop the anti-depressants and cut back a lot on the migraine meds.  He had my back and held me up against the emotional beatings I was taking from my exes.  He reminded me to love my children unconditionally, and to tell them, especially when I was the maddest.  He helped me keep my temper in check and suggested this very outlet for those times that were the hardest.  He got me into the gym and reminded me (although at times a little drill-Sergent-ish.  Yeah, he convinced me to eat flax seed wraps while throwing away all the chocolate in the house!  Sacrilege!) about the importance of a good diet.  He did all these things for me, and so much more.  (And that’s why I call him Mr. Wonderful!) 

But Mr. Wonderful seems to be on vacation lately.  Or asleep.  Or…I don’t know, but I want him back!  I love my Mr. W, infinitely.  Not for what he does/has done for me, but for who he is.  But I also love him for how he makes/made me feel, mostly brought on by all the wonderfulness that used to ooze out of his pores.  I need to get him sweating again!  I have issues, and I know it.  But he used to know it too, and was not only ok with it, but motivated to support me through and help me overcome those issues…used to…  I know he loves me as much as I love him, and it’s not a conscious change on his part, but I miss it nonetheless.  Not that an actual honeymoon is in our future (financial/kid matters), but I would at least like to think about one before it’s declared over and done with!

And the count-down begins: 35 days until I get to see the boy again.  I drove him up to meet his dad yesterday (yuck), and he won’t be back until our two-week vacation in July.  The girl will be continuing her normal schedule, but the summer will have a lot of kid-less time that I’m really not happy about.  As frustrating as they can be, it is so much worse when they simply aren’t around.  After the two weeks home, the boy will be back at his dad’s for another three weeks before school starts.  *sigh*

But, that gives me roughly 56 days to get my poop together and make some healthy changes in my/our life:

Step 1)  Physical health. 

We began today.  Mr. W and I woke at the crack of freaking dawn (415am) and got our lazy, unfit butts to the gym.  I’ve bubbled out here and there (here being my tummy and there being my butt and thighs) to the tune of adding a size and a half.  Mr. W has been complaining that he’s gained too, although I don’t see it, so I figured it’s a good start.  Our schedule consists of 3 days of weight training, and 2 days of cardio (running, blah!) to get us started. 

We intended to quit smoking along with the gym routine, but, yeah, that didn’t work out so well.  Smoking is a hard thing to put down.  My personal goal is to be quit by the time the boy comes home.  Hmmm…we shall see… The hardest part is that Mr. W smokes and isn’t ready to quit.  Even when we try together, we usually talk each other into cheating.  Well, at least we are united! 

Sleeping kind of goes along with the gym.  We both suffer from insomnia, and we both are constantly tired.  Not good.  So I set my alarm on my phone to go off at 9pm, and our agreement is at that point we wrap up whatever we are doing and head upstairs.  Our biggest challenge will be watching only one (or none, if we don’t have the time) episode of LOST a night.  We are into season 4 now, the season I haven’t seen.  And those of you who watch know that cliffhanger, accompanied by the “dun” and the “LOST” at the end of each episode is like cutting a crack addict off mid-puff! 

And the diet.  Well, not really a diet in the sense of the evil version.  More like a diet-adjustment.  Cutting back to cutting out fast food for one.  (By fast food I mean the Don, the King, the Colonel, and that red-headed chick.  We don’t really ring the Bell much, for, *ahem* other reasons!)  My vegetable garden has committed suicide by drowning…who knew you had to incorporate drainage?  Probably the same person who knew we were going to get days on end of torrential downpours in the middle of June!  So I will be hitting up our local produce stands, planning our meals a week prior, and avoiding the snack eisles in the grocery store…well, mostly…  Mr. W started us off right last night with the fabulous yumminess of eggplant parmesan.  Mmm, mmm, good!  Seriously!

Step 2)  Mental health.

No, not that kind of mental health.  I’m talking about peace of mind.  The house is cluttered and difficult to keep straight.  So we will be doing something about that.  The biggest areas to purge are the toys and the clothes, both very difficult for me.  My kids actually play with all their toys.  They cycle through them regularly, and have gotten very good about putting them away.  That said, they have a lot of freaking toys!  The clothes are hard too, especially with me in this weird body place that is bigger than the majority of my clothes, but is planning on being back there soon with the whole gym thing…plus, I really really like clothes!

After the toys and clothes, we will  move on to general organizing and purging as we go along.  The bookshelves, the utility/laundry room, our desk spaces, the kids closets (currently used for very disorganized storage of God knows what), and our bedroom.  I truly believe a cluttered house leads to a cluttered mind, and we all know I don’t need any more of that!

Then it’s some us time.  He doesn’t know it yet, but I plan to implement some sort of regular couple activity, even if it’s in the form of a “date night,” as cliche as that is.  We deserve it.  We need it.  Nuff said.    

Step 3)  Financial health.

We are planning a wedding, looking for a house, saving for braces, college, emergencies, paying off our February vacation (on credit card)…and yet we can’t go a week without a visit to Target, WalMart, BestBuy, GameStop, Old Navy, and/or PetCo.  (Sometimes all of the above!)  I don’t know how yet, but we are going to be diving into our financial matters over the summer and figure out how exactly we are going to accomplish our goals, together, with the least amount of pain.

I figure planning and organization are key in all of this…but as I suck at both, I could use some tips or pointers on how to make it work and especially how to stick with it.  I’m sure I’m not the only one trying to make healthier choices in my life, so if anyone out there is in the midst and has figured out something that works for them, let me know.  I will post the best/most helpful ideas in an update post in 2 weeks. 

Damn I’m a whiny bitch!  At least I feel that way right about now.  (And I wonder where the girl gets it)  Here I’ve been whining about my stresses and my problems when all the while there are much bigger issues in other people’s lives that my stuff doesn’t even touch.

A close friend just confided that her hubby is coming home from Iraq on Saturday after 9 months, 3 months short of his one-year contract.  He was there under a similar contract as Mr. W, but a month ago he was fully intending to stay two years instead of the originally planned one.  And now he’s coming home, out of the blue, and oh, did I mention he got fired?  My dear friend has five kids, a crappy job that she hates, and big dreams of pursuing a career she actually wants, which these one or two years apart (and the big paychecks that accompany them) were going to all but hand to her on a silver platter with sparkly jewels all around.  Now?  Not so much.  Now she’s stuck worrying about things like mortgages and bills and what activities she has to cut out of her kids’ lives to make ends meet on a single income in a very high cost of living area.  Did I mention she has five kids??  The kicker, she still loves the guy.  They have been married for like 15 years, and have had many of those “worse” times the preacher talks about when you get married and she’s stuck it out.  Besides that, he still makes her heart flutter and eyes light up.  He still makes her laugh, through all of this.  Love…WTF, man!

Then there is The Girl from the Ghetto.  She’s a simply fabulous human being.  She’s Mr. W’s life-long friend and my new bloggy/long distance friend.  She’s the one that needs that real life Dr. House for all the baffling health issues she struggles with.  I can’t even begin to list her pains and struggles, but you can read them here.  But even through all that, when I met her, and when I read her, she’s still positive.  She’s happy, she’s friendly, she’s bubbly and intelligent and hardworking, she’s multi-talented, she’s fabulous!  But now, now she’s been laid off.  She’s civil service, and has been laid off. (Yeah, I was totally under the apparent misconception that doesn’t happen, like, ever!)  After a (finally) trip to the Mayo clinic to shed some light for her.  After finding out she has to have a surgery hubby’s insurance doesn’t cover.  After Michigan’s crappy economy anyway, she got laid off!!  So I’m sending my love, hugs, and prayers and asking anyone who happens to read my blog to pay her a visit, offer some love, and even better, give her some hope.  (Or a job.  A job would be good!) 

Then there is the random crap that goes on the outskirts of my life.  A guy that works in my area (work area, not for the same facility, but the same overall company) stabbed his wife to death for no apparent reason this past weekend.  One of my neighbors’ house flooded last week from a frozen faucet.  In an attempt to fix it (not sure how) her dad set the insulation in the wall on fire.  Flood and fire.  How much does that suck?  (Ok, granted, not as much as being stabbed to death, but I’m just running the list here)  Two of the ladies I work with suffer from health issues that strike without warning and leave them beat down on the side of the road.  Alone.  In the desert.  The Mojave desert.  With bugs.  — ok, stopping there, but you get the idea.  My step-dad’s mother just found out she has Lupus.  And his sister who lives with her and is supposed to be taking care of her fell off the wagon not long ago and fell hard.   Hell, my dad just had cancersurgery, for the second time, and will be dealing with chemo next month-ish and he’ll be doing it pretty much alone since my step-mother is selfish, unhelpful, and living somewhere else, counting the days until she feels a divorce is appropriate rather than working on their marriage. 

How blessed am I!  I have my health, mostly.  I have a good paying job.  I have the love of a man whom I love in so many ways, for so many reasons.  I have two beautiful, healthy children.  I have a nice house to live in and a good car to drive.  I have nice clothes and nice things and eat well.  Who the hell am I to bitch?  Mr. W and I have life pretty damn good, and yet we are too busy whining and bitching and stressing about the little crap to notice all the good in our lives.  Hell, if Girlie and my other friend can manage to keep smiles on their faces, what right do I have to defile their air with my negativity and discontent?

Last night was better.  Granted, the girl was caught standing on the dining room table, jumping on a bed, and intentionally breaking one of the boy’s toys, but given the choice of screaming, defiant whininess and just regular 3 year old bad behaviour, I’ll take the latter every time.  At bed-time, she jumped right in, no arguements, and (presumably) went right to sleep.  Whether she did or not, there was  no pitter-pat of running (playing) feet, or talking, or fussing to note.  Score one for Mom!  Now let’s see how tonight plays out.

In blogging news, I’ve been crappy on here lately, but I intend to work on it.  I think I’ve forgotten what an outlet my blog has been for me in the past, and in neglecting it I’m also neglecting myself.  I have a tendency to hold things in until I just can’t anymore, resulting in volcanic erruptions of some sort of emotion or otherwise (not fun for anyone in my path).  I did update my set-up awhile back (you may have noticed the change to the blaring orange that now graces my page), but have done little productive since.  And, in case you are wondering, I am not a complete deviant…I intentionally spelled “peace” that way, its a play on words, see…  Of course, I messed with some other settings and now, according to the handy wordpress stats thingy, NO ONE reads my blog*.  I was admittedly a little bummed about that, until The Girl from the Ghetto graced one of my posts with a comment containing some fabulous money-saving ideas for my upcoming wedding.  So, obviously someone is reading…but now to figure out how to turn my tracker do-hicky back on…

Home life has been, well, home-life.  The stress of the kids 1) being whiny and defiant and 2) leaving soon for the summer has been weighing on our house-hold.  Mr. W is working on his “parenting” patience, and doing quite well actually.  It’s been 10 years since he’s had to deal with all the pain frustration stress joys of a 3 or 5 year old, so I do my best to cut him a little slack when it comes to joining in the parent parade.  Besides that, we do differ on some of our views when it comes to raising and ruling kids, so I allow him some leway on that lerning curve.    On top of the normal kid stuff, there are all the looming factors.  And the cherries?  Work, school (for us both), and life in general.  All in all we are holding things together pretty well.  No real fighting.  We are taking it all on on a united front, as far as I can tell. 

I am trying my damnedest to plan some sort of weekend getaway for just the two of us, though.  It’s been awhile since we have taken a trip together.  We used to quite often when we were still dating (granted there was more opportunity then).  We’ve done DC, the mountains, Philadelphia/Atlantic City (not our best trip, but hey), Detroit, and a little bit of Miami (before our family cruise).  I think it would help…but then there’s planning, financing, and pulling it all together sans stress…hmmm, wish me luck!

*hint, hint. If you are out there blogoverse, let me know it.  Send me a “hey how, ya doing,” or a comment…you know, whatever.