is it wrong to be satisfied?

I guess I am surprised at how I honestly feel about my life at this point. If you asked me ten years ago where I wanted to be at age 30, I seriously doubt I would have said "divorced, dealing with a big loss in my business from an economic disaster, and living back in the same area I basically grew up in." But then again, you'd be asking a 20 year old. And WTF does she know?

I'm happy. I am where I am and it's not what I planned, but I am at peace. I am growing. I am watching myself become who I decide to be. I am learning from my mistakes. I like my personality. I am proud of my accomplishments, my ability to make a living from my hobbies, my family, my beliefs, my opportunities, my experiences and my newfound ability to be okay with these stretches of life where things are hard, painful, destructive and demanding of change. A good friend told me a few weeks ago "Wherever you are in life right now, BE there."

I used to feel the need to be in a place where others would look and say "she's on the right path. she's making the right choices. she's got it together." But you know, right now, I'm not there. I AM in a place that's good for me. But on the outside, it's anything but obvious. I am accused of making bad choices. Being selfish. Not seeking. Not growing. Disconnected from my foundation... But it's not true at all. And I'm finally okay with whatever it might look like on the outside. Because for once, I'm at peace because I know in my core that I'm learning more in this single year than possibly the past 29. It looks to my parents, my brothers, my old friends, that I've fallen apart... gone off the deep end.. whatever.. but it's actually quite the opposite.

I finally know WHO I AM, and that is an amazing feeling.

Have I made mistakes? Obviously. Do I have any regrets? Only one. My only regret in life is the pain I caused my ex-husband. I dont regret our relationship, and I wouldnt trade it for a different marriage that didnt end. But I do regret that I didnt know at 22 what I know now. His pain is the one thing I would change in my life if I had the option.

But everything else, all the mistakes, I own them and I have grown from them and I dont want to know what parts of me would be missing, different, unfamiliar if I hadnt made them.

I dont know how long this stage will last. But I'm owning it... recognizing that I'm still being transformed into whatever it is I'm supposed to be. Even if you don't see it. Because I honestly dont need YOU to see it anymore. Because really? WTF do YOU know?

big

fat

smile :)

Dirty Laundry

Disorganized.

Impatient.

Inconsistent.

Insecure.

Scared.

Clingy.

Depressed.

Anxious.

Hard

Why am I finding that the lessons I struggled with in college are coming back to be relearned all over again. Is that fair? I mean, really?

Is it just me? Or is it hard for everyone to retain lessons learned. Maybe I never really learned the lessons. That sucks.

One good thing about intense personal struggle, is that it really is impossible for me to come out unchanged. I refuse. I refuse to experience emotional and mental torment, and then make the same mistakes. Well, I may make the same mistakes, but they will be closer to resolved next time. They wont be quite so bad. I'll come out faster, causing and experiencing less damage. 

Life is hard.

i dont know yet...

this week has been a rollercoaster. emotionally. physically. mentally. i dont seem to be able to handle as much emotional turmoil as i used to be able to. i'm beginning to feel defeated in some ways.

there so many grey areas in life. they make it hard to make decisions, i think. i have a fear of regret. i want to make the best choices, so that i dont look back and think i wasted my life. there are always mistakes, but as long as i feel that the mistakes worked out for the best, then it's fine. i am at a place this week where i am having to close my eyes and trust what i know in the deepest parts of me. not what is around me. not what i see. hear. sense. feel. but emotions are so strong. sometimes stronger than physical evidence, and i've been sort of in awe at that reality this week. 

i guess it would be described as faith. hanging on to something you believe to be true despite the perception of reality you may have at that moment in life. i think that's true. i think that's necessary.

from a more secular perspective, it would be simply realizing that we as humans are complex. there is so much to balance between our minds, our emotions, our wants, needs, memories, experiences, hopes, fears... we have to be able to step outside of our current situation and look at things from outside the chaos. ive had a few times this week where I had to tell myself to keep my mouth shut, and dont believe what i'm thinking bc it wasnt consistent with the other factors in my life. dont trust myself in other words. that is a hard thing. we like to think we are the center of it all so if we cant trust ourselves than who can we trust? 

i do believe we are created beings. and in that case, we arent the center of it all, so for me to really trust me is probably foolish. how can i trust someone who's made so many mistakes? it doesnt make it easier to figure things out sometimes, but it does at least hlep me relax and breathe. let go and wait things out. it's a good thing to realize i dont have to have it all figured out. have it all in my own control. bc weeks like this remind me that it's just too much. 

there's a word i used to dwell on - it reminded me i didnt have to figure it all out and do it all myself. REST. I think it's time for me to focus on that again.  I need some rest in my life.

motherly instinct

Is it a learned behavior or is it really an instinct? Is it something that is inside women to a small degree and then "activated" by motherhood and brought to it's fullness? Is it only in some of us? 

I have seen stories of women on tv who have babies, but they aren't mothers. They dont give their kids a second thought.. I have friends who grew up with moms that never seemed to "get it"... so maybe it's not in all of us.. but I think for the most part it probably is an intinct. It's probably similar to animal instincts.. I mean, how do mother sloths know to take care of their babies? How do mother cats willingly lay down, exausted and sore while their litter of impatient kittens beat the shit out of them nurse almost all day long? It must be a real instinct... just not sure why some have it and some dont.

Anyway - this post isnt about my kids, it's actually about Chantry. Poor guy has some sort of bug. It hit him last night. He was sick all night and then today has the energy of a dead slug and aches all over. He's been in bed all day. I got him up once to eat a little of the chicken soup that I heated up from the can made from scratch today. But man... why is it that I can't get any work done while he's feeling so bad? I know all he really needs to do is sleep. But I'm coming up with all kinds of things to do to make myself feel useful. Of course none of which are useful at all. As if he were a baby that needed me to rock him to sleep. 

"Do you want me to draw a bath?"

"Do you need more motrin?"

"Would you like some gatorade?"

"I can rent you a movie"

"Would you like a massage?"

"Need another blanket?"

"Is the fan too high?"

"Do you feel like coffee?"

"Want me to paint your toenails?"

Ok.. not really.. but jeez.. it really sucks seeing someone you love feeling terrible. :( Especially when there's nothing you can do to help. *sigh* But that instinct is strong. Hard to fight. I guess at least I have it. Considering I have four kids... and a Chantry. Otherwise who would do all the useless, unhelpful stuff that moms do? Like annoy the shit out of you be there for you when you're sick?

And yes, sloths have mothers too. 

A second drawer...

This morning I gave Chantry a second drawer in my 6-drawer dresser. The first drawer was significant. It was like.. "hey.. um.. I gave you a drawer... you know.. if you want one...but you dont have to.. um.." But the second drawer..oh the second drawer.. that's almost half the dresser. I think I'll stick with two drawers. I mean if I give him a third, I'll feel a little crowded. Should he ever get half the dresser? He definitely doesnt get half the closet. Half of the dresser is like.. a threat that he'll forget his place. It's MY house after all. Just because I offered to do some of your laundry today, doesnt mean I HAVE to do your laundry. Or that I always WILL do your laundry. Half of the dresser will make a man forget that all those little things you may do for him are NOT required. They are bonuses. Gifts. Sweet things. And they should be appreciated. Unexpected. Not taken for granted. 

So, enjoy that second drawer.. but keep in mind, there are 4 other drawers, all of which are in use... by me. Not you. Because it's my dresser. And I'm letting you in. But dont take advantage mister. Or I'll start charging rent for those drawers. 

My brothers, their wives, and the reason I wish I wasnt related...

This could be an extremely long post. And maybe it would benefit me to be that thorough.. but I just dont think anyone wants to read a novel about the situation. So I'll give you the cliff's notes and hope I dont leave out anything essential. 

Ah.. where to begin. I guess we have to go back to February of this year. The day I told my parents that my ex-husband and I would be splitting up. I called my brothers before I spoke to my parents, sort of just to get a little practice giving shocking news to family before sitting down in person with my parents. My ex and I had decided the best thing was to keep the details to ourselves. At least for the time being. We were still good friends at the time and wanted to salvage any part of our relationship, knowing full well that the divorce itself would be hard enough. We also felt that keeping things between us was better for our kids. As shitty as it is, we all know that sometimes family is the worst when it comes to saying hurtful things, and my ex and I didnt want family members spouting off things even 10 years from now that would be hurtful to our kids. And thirdly.. bc really, it's was none of their business.  Obviously, it was between he and I, and we wanted to keep it that way. 

I called my younger brother first. A couple of weeks before the day I told my parents actually. I knew no one would be happy about it, but I assumed between my parents, my older brother, and my younger brother, he'd be the most gracious about it. He'd be the one to say "I hate this for you, but you have my support as a sister." Well - I was wrong. Instead, I got,

"I knew this was coming"

Well. Wow. Would you care to explain? He went on to bring up my new jeep, my new boobs, and the fact that I sing in a band. Because you know.. when you get THAT combination going -  you are definitely headed for divorce. In fact, that's exactly why my ex and I split. He preferred foreign cars, saggy boobs and jazz music. It just wasnt going to work out between us.

So after he explained his take on it - which was as far from what was really going on as possible - I kindly let myself off the phone and realized no matter what I said, even my own family was going to have their minds made up to believe what they wanted to. So, yay for that! 

So then in February (sorry for the little detour), I decided it was the day to tell my parents. My ex had found a place, was moving out, and it was time. I waited until we were separating bc I knew my parents would try to intervene. My ex and I had been struggling with our decision for a year. It wasnt easy. It was extremely complicated. I didnt want my family stepping in with their "sanctimonious baptistology" thinking they could save the day in a few weeks. So I called my older brother, Jeff, that morning. The conversation went somethign like this, except drawn out for an hour and a half and much more frustrating:

"Jeff, I wanted to let you know that X and I are getting a divorce. He is moving out this week. We have been dealing with this decision for a year and have been to counseling and it's just time for us to move on."

"um.. are you serious?"

"yes"

"Amy.. what? why?"

"We are keeping the details to ourselves and ask that you respect our relationship, and our kids, and just let it be. We may be able to talk details at some point, but for now, we are going to try to honor what is left so we can stay friends and be good parents."

"That is not acceptable. You need to tell me why. How come I havent heard about this?"

"Well, Jeff, you werent one of the ones I talked to. I've never really had that relationship with you. Dont take offense."

"You didnt let your family know? We deserve to know.  You can tell mom and dad what you just told me. You have to tell us why."

"um.. no. I really dont. I need you to respect our relationship, and our kids, and you need to be okay with that for now. This isnt your decision."

"Who have you been going to counseling with? Anyone who told you divorce is an option is not a good counselor. You're obviously hanging out with the wrong crowd."

"ok.. now you're starting to push me a little too hard Jeff. We went to counseling at FBC and I spoke with people I trust, including our cousin who you and I both respect. So just because I dindt come to you, doesnt mean I didnt get good counsel. And you and I dont see eye to eye anyway"

This went on for quite some time. Until finally, he said 

"Well, I'm going to be there tonight when you tell mom and dad"

"No. You're not. This is between me and them. Not me and them and you."

"No. I'm going to be there."

"Jeff. If you are there when I drive up, I will just leave. You have no right to be there. You need to let this go."

"If you leave when you see me, I will tell them myself."

"Wow. I'm hanging up now."

You get the idea. He called back 30 minutes later and said I was right. And that he would only come when it was over. I said, fine, I'll text you when I'm done. 

Skip forward to that evening at my parents house. I sit down wtih them, and tell them what is going on. I gave them a little more info than I gave Jeff. My dad wanted to know if there was anyone else involved, or abuse or anything like that. Of course neither were true. We talked about an hour. Got through it, and even though they were visibly shocked and distraught, I could tell that we were going to get through it together. My mom had stopped crying. My dad got up to make coffee and offered me a cup. I said I needed to get going, that we could go to lunch in a couple of weeks and keep talking -move on from here. That's when I saw movement in the backyard.. and then I heard my mom say "oh no. Amy, dont leave. Dont leave. The boys are here. Oh my god. Amy dont leave and dont be mad." She started crying and panicking. I rolled my eyes thinking about how long they had been back there. I told my parents "I'll stay for a minute to say hi, but I'm out. I gotta go home. Jeff jumped the gun anyway, I asked him not to come until I was done."

So I'm getting my shoes and coming towards the backdoor to just say hi, when I notice i'ts not just my two brothers. It's my two brothers, and their wives. Hm.. my older brother actually got a sitter so he could bring his wife. Both girls - both of whom I had not spoken with - bc I hadnt even talked to my parents yet before they left to come over. Both girls with whom I dont have the relationship at all to discuss this with yet. But here the four of them are. Like a pretty little intervention. 

They come in and the room is quiet. Like it should be considering they werent invited. In order to make my aggrivation known, I said exactly this:

"Well, that's funny. Mom was fine until you guys got here."

And who do you think speaks up at this point? My dad? Nope. My brother? Nuh uh. The first one to speak up is good ol' Tiffany Smith Zumwalt. And with a look of anger and accusation on her face, she says to me "Oh no. Dont blame this on us Amy. Dont put this on us. We didnt do this!"

Now let me pause here and give you a visual of the situation. Especially important bc it has been severely altered in the retelling, as I just found out last night. I was standing on the carpeted floor of my parents living room. Just outside the doorway to the tiled kitchen. Tiffany was standing just inside the backdoor int he kitchen, about 4 steps from me. When she decided it was a good idea for her to open her mouth in this setting, I looked at her, and I said EXACTLY  this:

"Well. You know. I KIND OF understand why my brothers are here. Kind of. They are my brothers. I assume they care about me. They are here for mom and dad. Fine. EVEN THOUGH I SPECIFICALLY told JEff it was not his place to come and he AGREED to wait until I texted him, I still KINDA GET why he and Danny are here." And then I pointed my finger at Tiffany - 4 steps from myself - took a step towards her iwth ONE foot. (still standing on the carpet with my right foot, my left foot now on the tile, still now 2 full steps away from her) and said "But WHY THE HELL ARE YOU TWO here?" (now including my other sister-in-law)

Now. I will grant you that my voice was raised. And I will grant you that the look on my face was full of adrenaline and anger. But I did not touch, nor COULD I TOUCH her from where I was standing. I did not say anything besides what I typed above. That was the extent of it. 

At that point, my older brother Jeff jumped around from behind Tiffany, and in order to "protect her from his pointing sister" physically hit me right above my right ear, and hard. WAs his fist balled up in a punch? Not really. Was it a slap? Hell no. Somewhere in the middle. And let me tell you this. I have been in two abusive relationships in the past where I have been hit, shoved, pushed and kicked. But I had not been hit in the head, as hard as my loving older brother hit me. 

It gets even better.

My younger brother did nothing. (oh.. he did pick up my glasses off the floor). My dad got between Jeff and I (bc at this point I was slapping at him as much as I could and  yelling God knows what about how we were through) but never did anything as far as even reprimand my brother for his act of violence. My mom was crying and panicking of course. 

I left the house, yelling about how my mom had better open the door so I didnt say something to "that bitch" that I would regret. 

Since then - my brothers dont speak to me. They say that since I wont let them "speak into my life" that I have cut them out. They do however hang out with my ex in order to see my kids. My parents and I had sorta started working things out, although they still dont see anything wrong with what Jeff did. But now that I'm dating Chantry they are back to square one. 

Every other guy I know has told me that their dad, their brothers, their cousins, their guy friends, would NEVER sit by and watch a girl get hit without doing something. Someone even told me their dad would come out of his grave if he did that. I think tha'ts how it should be. But not my family. The fact that my ex and I split is unforgivable. But we can hit. Bc Jesus likes that better.

So last night I was out with a friend of one of Tiffany's best friends. And she told me that the story that my family is spreading, is that I attacked Tiffany. And THAT is why my brother needed to hit me. And THAT is why they dont have anything to do with me anymore. I attacked her, lunged at her, pushed my finger into her chest and cussed her out. 

You know... If I ran into her today? I would probably make that happen. Because hey. If you're gonna say thats how it went down, in order to justify your husbands behavior, then let's just make it the truth. Oh, by the way, Jeff has a history with anger management and violence issues. Tiffany, ask your brother Sergio about the time Jeff hit him at work in front of everyone. And everyone wonders why I dont want Jeff around my kids. Hmm.. 

So much for cliff's notes.

Slothtastic

This is my new word. Sloth-tastic. When ur just being lazy and slow, or just lazy, or just slow.. and you're happy about it.. it's slothtastic. I'm usually not happy when things arent going 100 mph.. but Chantry, on the other hand, would get a lot of use out of this word. And I will from time to time.

That's all. 

to spill or not to spill

so ive never done a personal blog.. only one for my jewelry line and one for my cakes. work blogs are safe. safe and boring. maybe thats' why i can never keep up with them

but personal blogs kinda scare me. i love to read other peoples'... but i know me... and i know i will most likely, routinely, cross the line of "need-to-know"... but what's a personal blog if you gotta be fake? hm.. we'll just see how this goes and hopefully i'll practice some discretion.