Today is a sad day. Today, September 11th, is a very emotional day for many people. The towers fell, thousands died. Terrible, terrible tragedy. Today is also the anniversary of the death of two people that meant the world to me. It is the anniversary of my very first realization of death. I remember running into my moms bedroom, ready to show her something amazing and I found her in tears. She told me that there had been an accident, and that my dad was going to pick us up. This was also the first time that I had seen my mother cry. My father picked us up, and after dinner told me that my grandparents had died. He had tears in his eyes, and it was the first time I remember seeing my father cry. My sister was too young to quite understand. But I remember saying to him "So - They're gone? Really gone?" and my father hugged me and whispered "Yes, baby. Really gone" It would be a long time before I was told what had happened. My mother rarely talked about it, but there were many times where I would hear her cry in her room, when she thought we were in bed. I couldn't imagine losing one parent, let alone 2 in the same breath. My favorite memory of my grandmother, one of my first memories - was sitting at her big wooden table, eating my dinner. I didn't want to eat all my vegi's but my mother told me I had to. My Grandma had a dog named Benji, who would always sit under the table while we ate. I wasn't allowed to have a cookie until I was finished, but I really hated broccoli, and Grandma made the BEST cookies ever. (Apparently the secret was in the cookie sheet - I have that cookie sheet now - And my cookies are pretty good) Well - Gram leaned over while my mother wasn't looking and whispered in my ear that Benji loved vegetables. I proceeded to sneak the broccoli off my plate and into Benji's mouth while my grandmother kept my mothers vision else where. And I can remember her smile as she winked at me when giving me a cookie. I'm sure my mother knew what was happening, but I like to thing that it was a secret between just me, Grandma and Benji. My grandfather was a trapper by trade. He would hunt and skin muskrats., and hang them in his basement. I was always intrigued by those damn rats. We were never allowed in the basement, but I would beg him and beg him. "Gompa - I wanna see the rats" but my mother would never allow it. Finally, one day - he took me downstairs. "Don't be frightened" he told me. And we went down to see the rats. They were all hanging there, silent & still. I remember him telling me that because of those rats, he was able to make a living and feed his family. He also told me that it was ok to feel sad for the rats, because they had to die so that he could do his job. And we talked about death. How something is there, then they are gone. It's these little things that I remember. I remember my grandfathers big dump truck. I loved so much that I was given a smaller model as a toy. I remember my grandmothers smile, how she was kind to every. living. thing. She caught and released insects - something that I practice this very day. I remember my grandfather finally giving in to my morbid curiosity. I remember being silly with her, and goofy with him. I remember her telling me that she loved me, no matter what. Always. It's the little things that we remember when it's all said and done. Cherish them. |
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I had an eye opening experience this weekend.
I had just finished my shower, hair wrapped in one towel, drying my self with the other. The BigGuy had come in the bathroom to brush his teeth. Then it happened. I did what most women fear. I dropped the towel. I have a rather large mirror over my sink, which is directly across from the bathtub I was standing in. I glanced at my self in the mirror. Naked. Ugh. There were my breasts, not as perky as they once were (lets be honest.. At DD's they were never really perky - but after breast feeding a child they have lost their 'spunk'. Can we say Victoria's Secret? I saw my belly, a little pudge below my waist line, riddled with shinny stretch marks from my young pregnancy. I saw my thighs. which had long ago lost their dancers muscular shape. My arms, definitely not as toned as I would like them to be. I saw 34 year old me. And made a face. ------------------------------------------------------ Then, I saw something else. I saw the BigGuy staring at naked-34-year-old me. And he had a stupid mischievous grin on his face. Like a kid in a candy shop. He looked me up and down, not seeing stretch marks, or pudgy bits. Didn't see my arms or legs. He saw me. His perfectly beautiful naked woman. And he liked it. In that split second, he made me feel beautiful, sexy even. He went back to brushing his teeth, and I grabbed my towel a little more slowly then I normally would. We are always so critical of ourselves, we need to stop every once and a while and see ourselves through the eyes of the people who love us, the people who find us sexy, the people who cannot see our flaws. My advice? Get naked in front of your husband / boyfriend / sex-mate. Let him look at you. He will like it.. and it will do more for you then you realize. <3 Hello Sports Fans..
I'm annoyed. I've been annoyed for the last few days. I'm currently sitting on my sofa, watching severe storm coverage on CP24, balancing a tea, duck and laptop. The volume is on, but it is being muted by the sounds of a "conversation" between the stepson and son. A loud, sometimes animated conversation. The BigGuy is out of the house. And I'm annoyed. There was an incident earlier this week, a mix up occurring between the BigGuy and his ex. This hiccup ending up affecting not only their children, but mine. It bugged me. No. Let's be honest. It pissed me off. So I voiced my opinion. I didn't yell or scream, I was nice about it. ( I may have mentioned that the two of them need to get their shit together because now they were affecting MY child.. and I may have thrown in a few f-words) I guess I always have a backup plan. I was raised to ALWAYS have a backup. This particular situation didn't have a plan b... it didn't even have a plan a.. I was told it was all worked out, and seriously, all you had /// No. I digress. What I was getting at, was that I may or may not have insulted ExWifey. ( It was may. There was no may not) I didn't do it in front of the children. I did during a conversation between the BigGuy and myself. I should also mention that ExWifey and I may have exchanged text messages as we often do. Those messages may have been taken out of context, as I am normally portrayed as a pretty big bitch. In my defense, I'm a very sarcastic person which can be taken as rude. All of a sudden, the tables had turned. Now I was / the negative one / not understanding / need to relax / settle down / don't be rude. Wait.. What? Aren't you on my side here? Aren't you just as angry? Which brings me share some insight I have recently learned. Insight that I have been learning in my years of being the other woman. This is what we are by the way. Us ladies who decide to date men who were once married. We are - and forever will be - the other woman. We are the ones who stole him away. We are the ones who are raising the children. We are the evil, home-wreaking bitch. It doesn't matter how well you and ExWifey may get along, deep down if she is honest - she will agree. It has been determined years before. She will hate you. She may be some horrible-wart-covered-evil-hosebeast. He may not want to touch her with a 10 foot pole. He may hate her with all of his being. But there is - and may always be - some small part that feels the need to defend her. Now what us 'currents' need to understand is that he isn't actually defending her. He isn't defending her actions or her words. He is defending that part of him that needs to justify why he once loved this woman, and why he chose to marry her and have children with her. In most cases, he won't even realize that he is doing it. But we will.. Oh we will.. And it will piss us off. I have talked to many "Other women" who have all witnessed this same phenomenon. We have to realize that it has nothing to do with us. It is all them, and their silly manish ways. This is the same for the Ex. She will always assume that you are trying to do the mom thing better. She will always think you are being rude. She will tell him that you are throwing things out of proportion. She will always read your texts as insulting. it's how it goes. It's how it has always been. But it sure is effin annoying. *** Note*** There's no love lost between ExWifey and I. She hated me when she first met me. Now she tolerates me and I tolerate her. We have different views on parenting, different views on what is best for the children. We like different music and different movies. We are two completely different people. Sometimes we can have decent, real people conversations. Most times it is regarding schedules or discipline. We will never be friends, but we have a mutual understanding that I am helping raise these children, and I do have their best interests at heart. |
Sarah
Mother, cupcake creator, zombie lover.. Archives
December 2017
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