Second Best

Time flies....

2008-04-02T20:34:00.001-07:00

Well, long time, no time to blog. Things here have been really crazy since November of last year. Now I am finding thing winding down a bit it's time to blow the dust off this thing and give it another go.

First, the excuses, I swear they are half way decent. For myself, my RA has really taken to flaring up this winter. I am thinking that it might be time to throw in the towel soon and admit that maybe I need to take the damn meds. I am however going to see what the summer brings. Because I like to rush into things that way.

My second excuse would be that my cousin was in a very bad car accident. She was out with four friends, on the freeway. The tire blew out and they rolled numerous times. My cousin and her boyfriend were thrown from the vehicle. The person in the car behind them guessed that she flew 30 feet into the air. Thankfully that person was a doctor, and the person behind him a police officer.

Unfortunatley my cousin and her boyfriend were feeling pretty stupid that day and weren't wearing seatbelts. They are both lucky to be alive. She broke her back in 2 places and they had to staple her head back together. She's only 21. Her boyfriend had to have surgery first to repair his kidney and spleen, and then to rebuild just about his entire arm. His elbow shot out. They never found it. Gross. So we've been spending a lot of time running between home and the hospital. I can't help but tell her everyday, buckle your damn seatbelt! She says she will from now on. WE even took the boys in to see her, as she is now our safety example.

On a lighter note, it's hot here! The boys want to spend most of their time in the pool. I feel fortunate when I hear friend complain that it is still snowing where they are. HA HA! SO for your enjoyment, here are a few picks of me and the boys enjoying the warm AZ sun.

Are you jealous yet?

Pests that you can't kill...No matter how much you want to...

2007-11-02T18:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my son came home with three of these: Fiddler crabs

Three of them. He got them at school. In fourth grade at our school they do a semester with animals. Typically it's millipedes, dwarf frogs, and fiddler crabs. At the end they ask you to volunteer to take some of these guys home. Ok, so for the past 2 kids we took millipedes. We're familiar with them, what's a few more, really. This year the boy wanted the frogs. Ok, so fine, we looked them up, got prepared, I signed the form. Clearly stating, we will take FROGS, and if there are any leftover millipedes, we would be happy to give them a home. So of course, the boy brings home the crabs. Right now they are in the plastic shoe box they came in, with some sand and some water and a place to climb on to. I know they need salt water, but info online is varied and limited so if any one has any tips, I would be eternally grateful...

Of course it doesn't stop there, oh no! Not in our house. It's never that easy... Joining our household yesterday were also 3 of these fellows... (That is not my hand holding the "beatle" No way am I that brave, although I put on a good front, because you can't let the children sense your weakness or you might wake up to find said weakness on your pillow while hearing a giggling boy who is watching to see if you wet yourself. You must pretend you could care less if it touches you, while making sure it doesn't)

Madagascar hissing "beatles" ( you can rename them whatever you want, I know a roach when I see one.)
My youngest raised beatles in his class this year, through all the various stages, and then brought them home in their little plastic case. I felt bad for the little guys, I really did. He was all over those bugs, constantly holding them. You would like we didn't have cute furry pets galore for him to love on. So these beatles lived peacefully in their little tank for a couple weeks until one day I found their case on the kitchen chair, the one facing the patio doors. The doors I had left the window open for that morning. Oops. They were some dead bugs. Sigh. So I did what any mother not wanting to hear screaming and crying all night would do, I hid them on top of the fridge and claimed ignorance while I tried to figure out where to get replacement bugs. A week into this endeavor, I cracked and told him the truth and made rash promises of new bugs. Which is how we ended up bringing these guys home.

We read up a little on them, but still had some questions. I knew it wasn't a good sign when I asked the pet shop guy if they lived better solo or in groups, to which he said "uhhh I have never heard of anyone keeping them as pets, so I'm not sure" Swell. So we compromised on 3. The boy was happy. "Awe, Mom, he's hissing at me, that means he loves me!" Sure kid, just like the cat loved you when she nearly took out your eye for blowing in her face. Sigh. I did read a few sites that had advice on keeping these as PETS so that made me feel better. Hubby says we're crazy, that clearly they aren't pets, they are a part of a Fear Factor challenge. DUH. So if anyone has kept these, or has any advice for us in their care, I would love to hear it!

And the trophy goes to...!

2007-10-03T08:20:00.000-07:00

Me! For worst mom EVER!

Last night was both the most horrible night, and the best, all in the same night. I will start with the worst, since, well, I got an award for it and all...

N9 is special. By special I mean he is our special problems little guy. When he was being born we almost lost him a few times. There wasn't enough amniotic fluid to cushion him, and the cord was wrapped around his neck and chest. He was not able to breathe with any contractions because he was being strangled. They literally asked my husband who he wanted them to save, his wife, or his son. I told them the baby always comes first. They managed to save us both, but not without some minor harm to N9.

At first it was just seizures. He had them constantly. As you held him, fed him, even as he fell asleep. They were very mild and after numerous tests the doctors couldn't tell us why he was having them. By 2 he had outgrown them as a constant and they morphed into febrile seizures. Thankfully we haven't experienced anymore of those in years, and he rarely gets sick.

One of the long term effects is that he is having a very difficult time learning to read. Or write. He is in special ed classes for these subjects. Amazingly he can pound out math better than most adults. He has amazing spacial skills, and can usually complete a video game before anyone else in the house. But give him a book and there can be hours of tears trying to complete homework.

Along with this seems to come an inability to focus on set tasks. He can get very overwhelmed. Which is what went down last night....

I was in a rush trying to get everyone/everything ready for J13's big solo for jazz band that night. I heard M8 suddenly start crying and screeching. In terror. So I ran down to his room, which he shares with N9. The door was barricaded. With a toy box, and a closet door. Because that's what boys do...They take everything that moves, apart. So I pushed past the barricade and found their room a huge mess and M9 still crying. N9 was screaming and throwing things around. I grabbed them both and demanded an explanation.

Turns out that J13 had upset N9 by pushing him out of his room. That upset N9. So N9 suddenly decided he had to find him Gameboy. By throwing everything around his room and accusing M8 of taking it. He can be pretty scary when he is upset, thus the terror that M8 was in when I found them. So what did this smart mom do? I yelled at him. Really yelled. Asked him what he was thinking, told him he had to stop this fit, told him he needed to apologize to M8 and to clean the mess he made. I didn't tell him. I yelled it at him.

So suddenly my sweet confused boy is in a ball on the floor crying his heart out, hitting himself in the head and pulling out his hair. He's begging me to stop talking. He's telling me I am confusing him, that he can't understand everything I am saying. My heart broke. I had just terrorized my own child. Hubby came in and tried to smooth things over by explaining the things N9 needed to do in a more calm manor, but N9 still kept rocking himself and saying he could no longer understand what we were saying. So I asked him if he wanted some time alone and he said yes.

I left the room for about 5 minutes and then went back. He was crying in his bed so I crawled in with him and just held him and rubbed his head. I told him how sorry I was that I yelled at him. I told him that I was upset that he scared his brother so badly. I told him I loved him. He did finally calm down, and when I offered to have Hubby let him help make dinner while I finished getting things ready to go. There's nothing he loves more than helping us to cook.

In the end, the room didn't get clean. N9 forgave me, but I don't imagine he will forget that crazy mom anytime soon. He did apologize to his brother. Dinner was a little burned, but still good.

Now for the proud moment. J13 had his first, ever, solo. He did AMAZING. It was a very proud mom moment when he stood up and played and people cheered him. I took video but not sure yet how to work it off my camera. I did get a pretty good picture of him after. Its a huge change in look from last. My little guy is growing up!

Am I a bad person?

2007-09-25T11:11:00.000-07:00

We had family day on Sunday. The Ex picked up the boys around 10am so I could have a few hours to do some chores and errands. Hubby had to work until 1, so we all planned on meeting back at the house at around 2.

Once everyone was there, including myself, Hubby, kids, Ex, his wife, the 15 year old girl they are fostering, and Roomie, we all sat down to listen to N9 read a story he had written. This is a monumental thing as he wrote it himself, no one helping and it wasn't a school assignment, just something he did for fun. Since N9 has a learning disability, especially in reading and writing, this was a huge deal.

So as he sat there reading, I noticed the Ex was playing on his cell phone. His wife kept jabbing him, telling him to pay attention. He told her he was. Next thing I knew she tossed her (very light) flip flop towards him and told him again that he needed to pay attention. Well the next thing that happens shocked, I think, most of us. Ex threw the shoe down and started snapping at his wife. Asking her what she was thinking, throwing a shoe at his face etc. He breated her a good couple minutes and then went back to his phoen to ignore her. Then we all waited and his wife just told N9 to go on with his story.

Now this may not sound like much, but for me it was huge. One of the reasons Ex and I split is that moments like that were constant in our relationship. Everything I did would set him off. I got really tired of being told how stupid I was. When he and his wife got together, and we all started spending together, I used to whine, rather immaturely I admit, that he treated her so much better than he ever treated me, and what was so wrong with me that he felt I should be treated that way? It was a very big deal for me. So when this happened Sunday I had an other immature moment where for a brief second I was pleased, that she wasn't perfect, and that I wasn't just a terrible spouse. But only briefly. Then I was just sad, because really, no one should be treated that way, and I really hope that it was only an isolated inccident, because I really like his wife.

So do those feeling make me a bad person? I hope not. But that doesn't stop me from feeling a little bit like one.

Stop the presses!

2007-09-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

Recently my Ex made a comment that surprised me. Shocked me really. He said he was glad that I am the mother of our children. Wow. Words can't not express how I felt hearing that.

Our marriage and divorce were not...Pleasant. We fought constantly, and viciously. Every thought in my head revolved around why I had children with this man. Never once did I think, gee, I am glad my children are stuck with this man as a father. I always assumed he felt the same way. Maybe he did then. Maybe he has matured now more than I have. Or maybe I have matured and just didn't realize I had gotten past these feelings, and am also grateful that my boys have someone like my Ex as their father.

We only recently started seeing eye to eye on raising our boys. I was always the positive reinforcement, to his "Reinforceanator". I would offer rewards, he would punish with lectures and physical labor. I would discuss issues, he would rant and tell them how things are and would be.

But over the course of the last year, our family has gone through a lot. And yes, I do still consider Ex family. That includes his new wife for me, and my new husband for him. We have learned to listen to each other, and discuss how we, as a group of parents, would like to approach things. I really like our new system. I think it gives us, and the children, good balance. Plus they know that they can't get away with things just because they are at a different parents house. Grounded at one, means grounded at both. We like to be fair that way ;).

I know that with this new system, I always have 3 other people who love my children, to bounce my feelings and thoughts off of. It's good to have feedback when you tackle the tough issues with kids. It also seems to make the kids very happy. They love our family time together. It went from once a month and vacations, to at least every other Sunday. The kids really look forward to those days when they have their whole "family" together.

Of course there are always going to be some issues we don't see eye to eye on. Some things we just flat out don't agree on. But we almost always meet in the middle and try to make sure everyone is satisfied with the outcome.

So I guess I can now say that yes, I am glad that my Ex is the father of my children, and they are lucky kids for it....

J13 & M8 Look pretty happy don't you think?

N8 & N9 showing their happy selves

Another of M8 & J13...What is it with my kids and the bunny ears?

A reason to blog on

2007-09-12T13:17:00.001-07:00

Recently I got some linky love from another blog I read, and enjoy. It's a blog by a solo mom and I really relate to a lot of things she says, because I was also a solo mom for quite some time. I know the difficulties and I know the way some people will treat you. During my time as a solo mom, I spent a lot of it just trying to keep my family together. I am no longer a solo mom, but I still carry that with me everyday.

I started this blog as a way to stay in touch with Hubby's family. Since he isn't very good at it, and I really hate talking on the phone, I figured if I blogged some things now and then, whoever in his family chose to could pop in and see what has been going on. Once I started it though, I didn't really want to share it with his family. I was hoping maybe to meet some people who are in similar situations, or just need someone to talk to.

Being a solo mom so long, and being so young, with so many kids was hard for me. I got a lot of negative feedback, even when the Ex and I were still married. A lot of people were judgemental not only by how many kids we had, but the closeness in age. This is something we chose to do in our family. I don't regret it one bit. The boys are close in age, and also close in heart. They are and hopefully always will be, each others best friends. I made very few friends during my marriage. I got to the point where I was too afraid of the comments and assumptions of others due to these circumstances. So my married life was all, and only, about my boys.

When I got divorced it was even worse. Single mom, FOUR kids? It didn't mater what kind of mom I was, or why I was single. People just didn't see past those 2 facts. So I kept to myself. I got a job, I went to work, I stayed out of peoples way. In all the years since I had my first son I made one friend that has stood by, and that is more to her credit than mine, she was persistent in breaking through my shell, and now happens to be a solo mom herself.

Even when I began a serious relationship, and then got married, I still carried that fear, of people judging me. Even with Hubby's family I was afraid, but they have done nothing but welcome me and my boys into the family. It helps, but I still am in my shell. Maybe the Internet will be an easier medium for me to find people I can talk to, and relate to, and form some lasting friendships.

They grow up so fast...

2007-09-06T21:32:00.000-07:00

J13 came home today sporting a mustache, and a bloodshot eye. Puberty is hell isn't it?

(Not, Yours), Mine, and Ours...

2007-09-05T13:25:00.000-07:00

I have to give Hubby credit, where credit is definitely due. He is one amazing step-dad. In my rant last night about having to clean up after everyone, I was in such a tizzy I forgot to mention that he not only helped the boys with homework, (a job no one wants, truly, pulling teeth is a much more pleasant pastime), and then played video games with them while I tried to sneak off for a nap, (made impossible by Roomie's constant texting me for shopping advice).

I think step-parents in general get a bad rap. Hubby has no biological children of his own. But he talks about mine, ours, as if they are his own. He has a luxury most Dad's don't have. He gets to be a friend. The boys already have a Dad. Now they also have a step-father, or even better, a friend. A man that is significant in their lives, yet approachable on topics a moody 13 year old might not want to discuss with his Dad, or even Mom.

One case in point was last year when J13 had some serious medical issues. We spent many, many weeks in the hospital with him. I stayed with him day and night, only leaving to grab food from the cafeteria. Hubby (not yet Hubby then) came every night to visit us. Ex and his wife kept the other 3 boys. Ex would often visit in the evenings as well, yet when J13 needed help bathing, it was always Hubby he turned to. His buddy. I don't know if a shrink would say it is healthy for a step-parent, or any parent for that matter to be a "buddy" to a child they are helping rear, but I know in my heart that my kids are blessed to have this relationship.

I had 4 proposals after my divorce. (OK, so one was my 8 year old) but I knew only one of them was truly right for me, and for my boys. Hubby is and always will be my best friend. He was long before we married. But just as important, he is also a great friend to my boys. So even when I am ranting about what a lug he is, I love my lug, with all my heart, and I would never give him up.

My second full time job

2007-09-04T21:23:00.000-07:00

Apparently one full time job isn't enough. This weekend Hubby and I tore the house apart. Cleaned from top to bottom, including the little boys room *shudder* which is an all day affair. All in all a great way to spend that long awaited 3 day weekend while the kids are away at their dads.

Now I didn't mind the weekend cleaning marathon so much. We did take a short break on Saturday to go see Stardust. I had already seen it, but as Murphy's Law dictates, any movie I go see with girlfriends that I am sure Hubby won't want to see, automatically becomes the one movie he has been waiting all his life to see. It was good enough to see twice thankfully.

So Hubby and I joked on Monday that we had better enjoy the clean house before the kids came home Tuesday after school. Ha ha freakin ha. I made a rules list, and put it on the noteboard. Tuesday morning I got up to go to work, and I get the luxury of sleeping until 7 while Hubby has to be to work by 6am and the girl staying with us has to be out of the house before I am up to get her daughter to daycare before work.

I got up. Thinking I would have at least a few solitaire moments with the clean house before I left for work. I go downstairs and glaring like beacons were little messes left by Hubby and Roomie. Some dirty clothes here, an empty Pop-tart box there. A box of screws left out after I so cruelly asked Hubby to finally rehang a couple pictures that were still on the floor after the great HGTV weekend. So I sigh. I pick up after them, I go to work.

I have the luxury at my job of setting my hours. I get there after I drop kids at school, and leave just in time to pick up J13 and get home before the other 3. The moment they step in the door I start drilling them on the rules. Shoes in the shoe box, backpacks in the backpack area, socks in the dirty laundry, go do homework. All is well still in my clean house.

Then its 8:30p.m. The kids are all snug in beds, and for the next hour I get to clean up. After the kids? A little. After Hubby and Roomie and her child? Yeah, mostly them. I get so tired of being the only one. I find complaining does no good. Full on breakdowns with tears and hysterics usually gets me a little help for a couple days. I even throw on the guilt trip; I am in near constant severe pain due to Rheumatoid Arthritis and a whole mess of related health issues, with no health care at the moment because Hubby's job charges way too much for insurance, and the boys have insurance through their Dad so I can't justify paying that much just to insure me, when, you know, the kids like to eat and have a place to live.

I hope that when the Roomie finally can afford to get her own place in January it won't be so bad. It's one thing to clean up after the man I married knowing he is admittedly a lazy slob, and the children I gave birth to, but it's a whole other issue when it's someone you have opened your home to, who makes messes and let's her child break your things without a second thought.

I don't mean to sound like such a baby. I know I am not the only one going through this. Any advice from anyone? Anyone? Hello, anyone out there?

It really does take a village. Or in our case, step-parents.

2007-08-30T09:37:00.000-07:00

My ex-husband and I have a rough history. I was 15 when we started dating, 17 when we (yeah, I said "we" because I strived to make him just as miserable as I was the entire 9 months and I think I did a pretty good job of it) got pregnant, 18 when we had our first son, and 19 when we got married. By the time I was 24 we had a total of 4 boys, a tubal ligation, and were separated. By the day ofter my 25th birthday we had our final divorce papers in hand. At the time I didn't think birthday gifts got any better than those papers. To say our marriage was unpleasant would be an understatement. I will just say for now that we were both very young, very immature, and one of us was resentful, mean, and took to drinking to off-set the unhappiness. I never regretted my decision to leave, and I still don't. I really think, and I believe he agrees, that divorcing was the best thing we did for our family. Not that we thought that immediately of course...

We both dated after our divorce. He found a girl who seemed OK with the kids, and I found a guy who I thought the same. Turns out we were both wrong. She cheated on him, ran around, basically broke his heart. Mine just showed me that he was all about me, but really couldn't stand any kids that weren't mini-adults. My children certainly never lived up to that, nor did I want them to. So they both got the boot. Eventually we both found the partners we ended up marrying. We found them around the same time, and never looked back. It was these two people who helped us make our family what it is today. I hear comments all the time about how I should hate my ex-husbands wife. I think these people are crazy. Why should I hate the person who will have such an important role in my children's lives? Who is that fair to? Certainly not them, and definatly not her. In fact I thank her. She helped my ex-husband and I slowly mend our relationship into the friendship it was before we ever got married. She helped us see that the only important thing was our children. Can't divorce them, even though some days I really wish you could. Really.

Anyway, the point of this long ramble was to say that it was slow going, but we have slowly developed a family of eight. That's four kids, and four parents. I still feel we as the parents are out numbered, but we manage. We have family dinner night at least one Sunday a month, taking turns at each others homes. We help with projects at each others homes, and we do joint birthday parties for our kids. Heck, we even take a couple vacations a year together. The kids have never been happier, and I can honestly say I call my ex-husband, and his new wife our friends. I know they feel the same about us. In fact when I finally got married (once burned, extremely shy there for me) about a year after my ex did, I sent a text message to him "well, I am married now". He knew were were getting married, and wanted to come, but we eloped. He immediately called and said that message made him tear up and he was so happy for him. He asked to talk to my new husband to congratulate him. As I handed Hubby the phone, I could hear my ex yell "Sucker!". It warmed my heart. Nothing is better than having a "village" of people to love your children. We are truly a blessed family.

Anything but the Hanson's

2007-08-29T08:28:00.000-07:00

We just found out that J13 has a solo in his first Jazz band concert. This is a huge deal. He of course is nervous, and so are we. I know he will do great though, as he always does...

N10 decided he also wanted to start an instrument this year. Now, N10 isn't your average kid. He is, to say it in the nicest way, the youngest eccentric I have ever met.

ec·cen·tric [ik-sen-trik, ek-] –adjective
1. deviating from the recognized or customary character, practice, etc.; irregular; erratic; peculiar; odd: eccentric conduct; an eccentric person.
2. a person who has an unusual, peculiar, or odd personality, set of beliefs, or behavior pattern.

In other words, this is my son. Even with with 3 brothers, he most often preferes to play alone. On the playground at school, while you see most kids in groups playing on the monkey bars, or kicking a ball around, my son is sitting alone, digging in dirt. He is oblivious to his lack of social skills, and quite possibly the happiest child I know. He exudes confidence. But back to the topic at hand. N10 wants to play an instrument. It of course can't be a simple instrument like J10, who plays a saxaphone. No, N10 will choose his instrument the way he choses everything in life, by deciding he needs the largest, and most obnoxious instrument he can think of. N10 wants to play the sousaphone. It is larger than N10, by far. Unfortunatly for him, it is a marching band instrument, and in 5th grade that makes it not an option. So in the end N10 has choosen the Cello. Not quite bigger than him, but almost. I guess it could be worse...M8 is already asking for a drum set....

Our Jazz Band musician in his finest

N10 with his best friend, Sand.

Damn HGTV

2007-08-28T09:40:00.000-07:00

It started with a catalog. Ikea. Evil evil place. The blinds on our arcadia doors to the patio are pretty shabby in their old age. Four kids constantly in and out doesn't help. So I decided that we should just hang some drapes instead. At least those I could wash right? So off we go to Ikea. You know, I never did see the drapes...If you have never been to Ikea it's quite the shopping experience. Hundreds of rooms set up. It's like walking through one giant mismatched house with no doors and more kitchens than you can't count. But oh what I wouldn't give to have that many bathrooms in my house! Ok, maybe not, I'm sure I would end up being the one to have to clean them all. So suddenly there we are staring at the coffee tables. We didn't have one currently because the I kept hitting my toes on the last one and got peeved enough one day to just throw it out. I really like my toes, and being able to get shoes around them. I have enjoyed the lack of legs to jam my toes on ever since. But life with 4 kids is starting to demand a larger area for board games. So when we found a rather large 2 level coffee table my dreams of uninjured toes was dashed. Of course this lead to the plotting of replacing more furniture. By the end of our walk we have picked out an entire new living room arrangement and dining room. I guess it's about time anyhow, I have had most of my stuff for over 5 years. I was pretty excited about redoing everything, though we only left with the coffee table that day. Since we have a roommate who is moving in January to her own place, she is the perfect person to pass on the old stuff too. But she has no where to store it in the meantime, so the plot just has to simmer for awhile...

Once we got home Hubby assembled the new coffee table. We put our feet up on it, flicked on the TV and life was good. Until HGTV came on. Design on a Dime. People with any sort of decorating bug should not be allowed to watch this show. My hubby and I are two such people. They were redoing a kitchen and put a couple stripes of paint up towards the ceiling. Cute. Can you say cute? I loved it. I batted my eyes at the hubby and begged for stripes of my very own. Not that begging was needed. I had painted my kitchen two shades of mossy greens when I first bought the place. It flows into the living room which I sponge painted in neutral beige and creams. I loved it. But a stripe, well a stripe or two would surely tie the living room with the dining room/kitchen wouldn't it? Of course it would! I still had all my left over paint so off to Home Depot for magic tape and paint brushes. I was giddy with excitement. We got home and Hubby said he could whip out his trusty level and pencil in my stripes for painting. Great! He penciled, I taped, then he painted. I was so excited! Then I ripped the tape off. My beautiful stripe that Hubby meticulously measured was crooked. Not only that, but it was about 4 inches wide at one end, and about 2.5 inches wide at the other end. This of course was not hubby's fault, but some conspiracy with the level and wall out to get Hubby. It took me two days to fix that stripe, with a tape measure and lots of patience I measured every inch of the stripe as I re-taped it. Then it happened. Not happy with just throwing a little fresh paint on the wall, no no no, not my hubby. Now he wants to do an accent wall in our living room. The outer wall of the stairs to the third floor. So I break out my tape again. One wall, I can handle it. At least he didn't chose the part of the wall that vaults up to the third floor...right? But of course painting for Hubby is a sickness. Once he starts, he wants new paint everywhere. So we ended up painting the fireplace wall and mantle. We were at that until one A.M. because of course Hubby couldn't wait until the next day now that he had his plan in motion. There were a few words exchange, some tears, threats of violence, but in the end, when it was all done, I have to say it looks great. It will certainly look even better when we get all that new furniture in. We decided to watch a little TV to wind down, but this time I put on a cooking show, because neither of us is ever rushing out to cook a meal anytime soon, and stubbed my toe on the way to the couch. Life is good.

I can't believe I'm 31

2007-08-25T11:26:00.000-07:00

Well actually, I turned 31 in March. Call in denial. 31. It makes 30 seem so...young. 31 was the benchmark. I was going to have my whole life in order by 30. Which has come and gone, with no order in sight...
In all fairness in those 30 years I have done a lot of things. I have been married and divorced, had 4 boys, (not all after the marriage, but all before the divorce, and with the same man.), started several new careers, (still trying to find the hat that fits me), and kept myself in denial about some health issues. (Really...It doesn't go away just because you chose to ignore it).
Since turning 31 I have rounded out a few more things. I recently (Yay July 19th) remarried. To the most wonderful man who I complan about a lot but love even more. Really, I am lucky he puts up with me. He is a great husband and I couldn't ask for a better Step-dad for 4, (gulp) boys. For now I will just call the boys J13, N10, N9, and M8. First initials, and their ages. Yep, I was one busy baby machine for awhile there in the 90's. For those of you doing the math, I had my first son at 18, right out of high school. By 19 I was married, by 25 I was divorced. Which was one of the best things to happen for our relationship, but more on that later.
Anyway, to make a long story short, I usually keep a journal, however, knowing it is not the safest medium in a houseful of males, and I speak from recent experience, I have decided to move it out to a place none of them are likely to find, anytime soon.