I have a too many pets. And yes, they are a pain ass.

There.  I said it.  I have two dogs, one of which is a Great Dane coming in at just under 200 lbs.  I have 4 cats, 2 fish and a mouse.  Sometime they piss me off.  And I love each and every one of them.  Why am I telling you this?  Because I am getting ready to move across the country and I have to find a rental property and it is proving quite difficult to find a decent place with my brood.  Any time I mention it, the first words out of everyone's mouths are "just get rid of them."  To which I reply with a resounding "Fuck off."

Would it be infinitely more convenient to not have them? Yes.  It would be a lot more convenient to not have my kid, too, but that's not an option either.  Each of these souls came into my life for a reason.  They picked me.  That may sound ridiculous to some of you, but not to me.  I don't take in every stray.  I don't belong on an episode of Animal Hoarders.  There are some days I'd like to kick them all to the curb, right along with the kid.  But I can't.  They are mine.  And I love them.

When you bring a pet into your home it is for their entire life.  They are yours and you are theirs.  Not just until they become inconvenient, or your life changes, or whatever the excuse may be.  So yeah, I may bitch about my animals, especially in relation to my living situation, but please, don't tell me to get rid of them.  Thanks.

Girl Power: Then and now

Almost 20 years ago I did a self portrait for a college design course.  I combined my skills in metal work with my love of water colors to create a (very) short book.  I wanted, needed, anyone to see the pain I was in.  The irony of the whole thing is that, at the time,  I thought all of my pain was behind me.  I thought my life was about to begin.  It was college, after all.  That's when life is supposed to begin.  I had found Jesus.  Little did I know I hadn't found Jesus at all.  I had found a group of people whose main purpose was to make people feel unworthy, unloveable, unloveable and unclean.  I was so un, it was unbelievable.

I found this 'church' through my boyfriend at the time.  I left the church after the pastor told him not to marry me because I would never be submissive enough.  Boy, was he right!  I guess that church did me at least one favor.  I'm still mad at those people for ruining Christianity for me, but that is another story in itself.  It isn't this one.  I am happy in my faith now.  It fits me like my own skin and really, what more could you ask for?

This story is about that book and a self portrait written 20 years ago that still applies, but for different reasons.  Fate is a funny little bitch, isn't she?

Made of brass, each piece hand cut and together soldered together.  The image represents a rising sun (Dawn), with a child's hand holding on to the fingers of a parent.

At the time, it symbolized my difficult relationship with my parents, whom I had little to no contact with at the time, as well as my new found relationship with God.  

Now?  Now all I see is my relationship with my beautiful, bright little girl.  That no matter what she and I will weather anything that comes our way.  That child gives me hope with every rising sun.

And so begins our story...

     

(No Title)

A small child lies waiting for a loving mother to hold her.  The mother never comes, yet the child, she grows anyway.

A hand reaches out of nowhere, yet everywhere, to push the child unwillingly through life.

Many faces surround the frightened child.  Some smiling, most not.  Their eyes reaching into her mind and pulling out her courage, making her want to fight.

She wants to fight, but not alone. From behind something bigger than herself.

As she grows, she ventures out from behind her protector more and more. She is confident that she can stand on her own.

From out of nowhere, yet everywhere, objects are hurled at the girl who stands frightened, taking the abuse.  She longs for the strength she was given once and cries out.

Then I woke up.

So what does it all mean and how have things changed in twenty years?  Everything has changed and nothing has changed.  I am still confused and lost and abused, but I am stronger and smarter and I know what I want.  I have a better idea of who I am and more important, of who I want to be.  And that makes all the difference.

There is still a part of me waiting for my mom to love me, but there is a bigger part of me that accepts that she really does.  It also makes me want to be a better mother every day...for my daughter to never doubt for a second, even when she hates me, which she will, how much I love her. 

There's still that scared little girl who feels attacked at evert turn, forced to make decisions even when I'm not ready to.  I don't think that ever changes.  I still feel the pressure to fight my way through every situation, but I care less and less what others think and more and more what I think.  That is huge for me.  I am no longer fighting alone.  I have my baby to fight with me, and to fight for.  

I am confident and strong.  I can take on the world, no matter what is hurled at me.  I will still and always need a hand and am so grateful that the security I am walking away from will always have my back and be my best friend.  I am a lucky woman.  

I am awake.

What I've been doing all week instead of laundry...

Unconditionally with Conditions

Another great post written by Jenn at RandomThoughts N' Lotsa Coffee...

           You really can't love unconditionally. People can burn and beat love out of you.
             They really can kill it, and it's not your fault you don't feel it any more, and
               how liberating it is to finally realize that. Love isn't for better or worse,
                               through thick or thin. It damn well shouldn't be..
                                                                        Dr. Kay Scarpetta, Red Mist. By:Patricia Cornwell

Everyone is always searching for that elusive unconditional love. The older I get the more I realise that it is a myth. The premise that unconditional love is impossible will have some people shaking their heads at me, I know. But if you stop and think about it, how can you love another person without conditions. Why would you really even want to?  It is the ultimate sacrifice of you. To give someone that much control really is to say, go ahead hurt me, lie to me, abuse me, use me and I will still love you. Ummm, no. Well not in my world anyway. I love my husband with every ounce of my being. I love his good points, his strength, his integrity, his dedication and I love his flaws...the ever procrastinating, the channel flipping, the hours he works. I love all of him. I don't try to change him, mold him or want him to be anything other than who and what he is. I love him unconditionally…with conditions.  I love the man he is and the man he wants to be.  Unless that man one day decides to hurt me, then its game over. People never walk into a relationship and settle down expecting the worse to happen, ok well most of us don't... but as the adage goes, Shit Happens.  If one day he were to morph into Captain Asshole, then those conditions would come into play. 

Love should mean, love me for me, flaws and all. Don't try to change me into someone else, trust in me, challenge me, and allow me to grow. Love my independence and my spontaneity. It should mean that you can count on me to always be faithful, always love you for who you are, to always challenge you and be excited to watch you grow. I will unconditionally love you for you, unless that you changes for the worse and then well, there are conditions. Man or woman doesn't matter; we all should enter into relationships with established conditions, and love unconditionally only as long as those conditions are being met. Why would you sacrifice yourself, allow yourself to be abused, because you unconditionally love your partner, husband, wife, lover? There is no honor in selling yourself short.

For better or worse, through thick and through thin, in this day in age are being taken totally to literal. Granted every relationship has its ups and downs in the normal course of life and that is fine, you weather those and become a stronger couple. Life happens and stress occurs. But if these stresses, lead to your wife cheating on you, or your boyfriend taking all his aggravations out on you, physically or mentally, then why would you continue on with this person?  You can't love without conditions in a marriage or relationship because to do so is like selling your soul.

I asked on my facebook page last week, what people thought about unconditional love. Their answers surprised me not going to lie. They for the most part said it doesn't exist. Unless it was the love of a parent to a child, and even then that doesn't happen all the time. But that is a whole 'nother blog.  I think though that I loved one woman's response the best, she said the only unconditional love that existed, was the love of a dog.  I think she may be on to something there.  I do have to say that there is one form on unconditional love that I do believe in, and that is to love yourself.  You may beat yourself up, get angry at yourself over mistakes, but you have to always love yourself.  That isn't the easiest thing to do, I know, believe me I know.

Always love unconditionally...with conditions. For the simple reason, you are worth the sun, the moon and the stars...and no one should ever have the power to hurt you

My Vagina Is Not Big Enough for the State of Virginia

Virginia, Idaho, Illinois (introduced by the House Agricultural Committee?!?), Kentucky, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Texas have all recently passed legislation mandating either an ultrasound or a trans-vaginal ultrasound prior to receiving abortion services.  What's the big deal?  The gel might be a little cold.  Or, perhaps when I have made the gut-wrenching decision to choose to terminate my pregnancy for any number of reasons, none of which are anybody's business, I would prefer to NOT have a wand shoved up my vagina AGAINST my will because you think I am too stupid to understand the consequences of my decision.

I won't even touch the fact that the lawmakers who are pushing this particular bit of legislation are predominately opposed to the federal healthcare act, are the loudest when it comes to the issues of contraceptive coverage and feel that the government oversteps our civil liberties.  No, I'm going to touch that last one.  You whine about your religious freedom and big government, yet you can't seem to keep your government out of my vagina? Hypocrites.  

Back to the point at hand...whether you like it or not, women are granted the right to choose to terminate a pregnancy.  It is every woman's CHOICE.  It would be wonderful to never be in the position to have to make that choice.  But shit happens.  And when I say shit, I don't mean it is mildly inconvenient to have a child.  I mean a whole multitude of factors that come into play when making this decision.  I'm sure they are out there, but I have never met a woman who has used abortion as a form of birth control.  EVER.  It is NOT a form of birth control.  It is painful and sad and traumatic.  It is heart-wrenching and psychologically difficult to recover from.  It is not a decision that is made lightly.  Did I mention EVER?

So when a state comes in with a law that says a doctor must rape me in order to make me understand the gravity of the decision I have made, that makes me a tad angry.  Am I being over-dramatic by using the word rape?  I don't think so.  By inserting something into my body without my consent, a doctor is committing rape.  As an emissary of the state, the state is committing rape every time a doctor inserts that wand.  

I would love for women to never have to deal with this.  Nothing would make me happier than no more unwanted pregnancies.  But with increasing restrictions on preventative healthcare and women's issues being hurled back to the fifties, I don't see that happening any time soon.  I am not pro-abortion.  I don't think many pro-choice activists are.  I love seeing other choices exercised (key word there being choice).  I like babies just as much as the next person.  But I also accept that what is right for me may not be right for you and vice versa.  So please, law makers and everyone else who thinks they get a say in what I do with my body, please, with all due respect, GET THE HELL OUT OF MY VAGINA.

Burning Bridges

I asked a friend to do a guest post for me tonight since I've been having bit of blogger's block.  I'm going through a bit of a time in my life right now, with many huge changes on the horizon.  Had I been able to write the following post myself, I would have.  Thanks, Jenn at Random Thoughts 'n Lotsa Coffee for enlightening us with your beautiful thoughts and your insightful words.

Burning Bridges

I can't sleep at night.

I toss and turn.

I keep losing sight of the lessons I've learned.

I'm standing at the crossroads with just one concern.

Which bridge to cross and which bridge to burn?

I need to reach a decision and get on with the rest of my life.

-Vince Gill

At one point in our lives we have all been faced with this decision...do you leave the bridge standing, do you cross it and never look back or do you burn that bridge and all that it represents and forge a new path of your life? Do you even cross that bridge? That bridge over the course of your lives could represent any number of life's lessons. Bad relationships, jobs, toxic friendships, life's status quo. At one point you find yourself in a situation where you have to either cross that bridge and start a new chapter, choose a different path and leave it standing just in case or cross the bridge and burn it with the finality of never ever going back. 

This is one of the hardest Life lessons we are faced with. Which bridge to cross, and which bridge to burn. If we walk away from a situation in our lives and leave that bridge standing, it allows ourselves the option of returning to what it was the drove us away in the first place. We can always go back if crossing this bridge didn't work out.. kind of a  safety net to catch us if we fail. Sometimes this is ok.. to leave that option open, but when is it not? When is it time to torch that bridge to our past? When do we finally decide that enough is enough and we will never go back. Back to a certain person or situation that drove us across the bridge in the first place.  How many times do we get right up to the entrance of that bridge.. and panic or second guess ourselves and turn around, never even taking that first step.

What is the driving force behind us that even gets us to this point. How do you know when enough is enough and it is time to move on, no more second,third,fifty chances..That internal struggle is different for each of us, but the same too. We all battle the same question..when is it time to walk away? We never really want to give up on someone, or something in our lives, but there comes a time when we really do not have a choice. Its not healthy for us to stay, we are unhappy or unfulfilled, we begin to refuse to sacrifice ourselves and stand up for what we need.

Over the years I have faced  my own share of bridges. Some I have crossed and left standing because maybe at that particular time something minor wasn't right for me, but maybe after some time had passed, I would like to be able to return. I  made the decision to walk away based on feelings or where I was in my life at the time.  This is usually the case, but there have been a couple that I have decided needed to be burned to the ground.  Usually the ones that I have burned have been to people that were to toxic to want in my life any more. I had gotten to that point of no return, where I had tried and tried to make things work and had failed. It takes a lot to get me personally to this point, but it happens and I am ok with that.  What I had to figure out though was, when was enough..enough? 

Is there ever really a solid point when you realize that you can't do it anymore? Does it build up and build up until that proverbial straw breaks your back? Is it one event that opens your eyes and asks..what are you still doing here? Honestly I have had both. That lighting bolt from my subconscious that said.. The time to move on is now! Other times it has be gradually over time and once it took me 30 years to figure out. I guess it depends on the person or situation.  Nothing in life is black and white, there are always shades of gray and in those shades of gray is our life.. it is the balance between doing what is right and what is right for ourselves. Therein lies the Lesson that life is teaching us.  We can't always do what is right for others, we must come to a point where we do what is right for ourselves. Burn down that bridge and move on. Others in your life may not get it or understand and that's ok,  you can explain to them or not. I usually say that I needed to honor my self, my life and made the decision to stay or go based on that. While people may not understand, if they love you they should respect it.

Burning Bridges is something at one point we all must do in our life time, usually more then once.  We all have the strength inside of us to make this decision, to know when to walk away, what we just need to realize is that it is ok. Staying true to yourself is so important that sacrificing it to a job you hate, a bad relationship or family member that crosses the line is never really an option for long without losing that one thing that is so worth fight for, starting over for... and that is, you.

©Jennifer Manning, Random Thoughts n’ Lotsa Coffee

Do you choose a new path, not knowing what's ahead?

Blogger Boredom

I'm bored.  I have absolutely no motivation today.  I could be doing laundry, cleaning something, playing with my kid, even shopping.  Nope.  I am sitting at the computer staring at Facebook, waiting for someone to post something clever or for someone to reply to something clever I have posted.  What a waste of a beautiful Saturday.

It is sunny and gorgeous outside.  Unseasonably warm... what the hell am I doing?  My daughter is watching the smurf movie for the bajillionth time, my husband is two feet away from me but in his own blogosphere, and I have yet to get out of my pi's.

I don't even have anything creative or especially funny or angry or, dare I say, enlightening to write about.  I have nothing.  Nothing except an overwhelming desire to not get off my ass.  And what better way to do that but type?  Pathetic.

That's it.  I don't care what anyone else posts on Facebook today.  It may be life-changing.  It may be mind-blowing.  I may only get a brief chuckle before slipping back into a coma...I'm outta here.  Any minute now.  Logging off.  Unplugging.  Stop typing.  sfgdjhghjklghjklsdfjgkjfdhsgk *head hitting keyboard*

    

Kamikaze Blogging: A Topic Handed to Me on a Silver Platter

        After three months of hiding out in the blogosphere virtually unnoticed, I begged and pleaded some other bloggers to help me get to 500.  You know that old saying ‘Be careful what you wish for’?  Well, I got my 500 and more! I couldn’t be happier!  As a ploy to sucker everyone in, I promised that my 500th liker would be able to choose my next blog topic.  Monique is the proud winner of no cash and I’m not sure if she’ll like her prize, but here is the topic she chose as her ‘soapbox issue of the morning’...

     “My 6 year old thinks she's fat because she has a normal pooch of baby fat she gets before a growth spurt *grrrrrr society*”

     Why do I say she handed me this on a silver platter?  Two reasons: I have an almost 6 year old who is obsessed with the mirror, and I also struggle minute by minute with my own body issues.  I think most women do.  It’s how we are wired.  So how do we go about raising daughters who are confident, self-assured and completely kick-ass when most of us look in the mirror every day and see nothing but our flaws?

     I do not know, nor have ever met a single woman who is completely satisfied with every part of her body.  For me, my butt’s too big, my tummy’s too flabby and covered in stretch marks, I have dark circles under my eyes and my legs are too short.  Here’s the thing though... I look great in heels, my eyes are a beautiful shade of cornflower blue, when I smile the circles disappear and no man has ever complained about my curves.  I can also sing, write, am a good photographer and take in strays to a fault.  See what I just did there?  That works on paper (or in a motivational blog) but it’s considerably harder in practice.  Which brings me to my point...

     I think our little girls think they aren’t perfect because they see and hear mommy rant about her *insert horrible flaw here*.  They learn from example.  Though some of us are very careful to never let our daughters hear our own negativity, others aren’t.  Worse, other mothers are like my mother and tell their daughters how fat they are.  Then those little girls go to school and tell other little girls how fat they are and here we have our vicious cycle.  

     How do we stop it?  How do we protect our beautiful daughters?  How do we raise them to be completely and supremely bad-ass?  Hell if I know.  I struggle with it every day, but I have a few ideas...

• Stop the negativity!  Don’t let your daughter hear you call yourself *too* anything.  Ever.
• Tell her she’s beautiful and awesome and amazing and a rockstar and super and everything else WAY TOO MUCH - because way too much is still never enough.
• Help her stay healthy by eating right and living an active lifestyle.  Whether she’s naturally thin or not, starting good habits early will give her a great life.
• Lead by example.  Eat right. Exercise. Be kind to yourself.  If your daughter sees you love yourself, she’ll learn that it’s okay to love herself too.

     And when she does come home crying because some nasty little girl whose mom isn’t as cool as you calls her fat, listen to her, love her, tell her she’s beautiful, have her look in the mirror and point out every awesome thing about herself and even more important, have her point out all the awesomeness she can’t see in the mirror - like how she aces all of her math tests or how well she can draw or how kind she is.  You get my point.  Because it’s not just what’s on the outside that makes her beautiful, but what’s on the inside matters a whole lot more.    

     Women are hard wired to believe that our worth lies only in what others can see on the outside.  Let’s try to change that for our daughters.  Pretty please?

She should always know she's absolutely amazing and my favorite thing in the whole wide world.

   

Precipice

Precipice: noun 1: a very steep or overhanging place  2: a hazardous situation; broadly : brink

I stand on a precipice.  I am on the brink. The brink of a whole new life.  I am choosing to walk away from a life of security and complacency toward a life that is infinitely more terrifying, yet hopeful.  My motives and my sanity have been questioned, and fairly so. Were I to look at someone else in my position doing what I am doing, I would probably question their motives and their sanity as well.  I am here today to assure everyone, including myself that my motives are pure and that I am as sane as I have ever been...which may not be saying much, but there it is.

So why?  Why am I walking away from a stable life, a man who is kind, a beautiful home, a spoiled existence?  What crazy person chooses to leave security for the great unknowable?  This crazy person.  I am not happy.  I don't think I have ever been happy. I'm not sure I know how to be happy.

Don't get me wrong- I have had moments of pure joy.  The day my daughter was born. My wedding day.  Mind-blowing sex.  And maybe that's all there is.  Maybe life is only monotony strung together with brief moments of joy that are few and far between.  Maybe it's not supposed to be joy broken up by brief moments of monotony.  But I cannot accept that.  

I need to know that my life can have hope.  I need to know great love.  Not just a love that is safe and consistent - I want that too - but a love that takes my breath away every time I look into his eyes.  I have to believe a love like that can exist.  If it doesn't, then what is the point?

For me, beyond that great love with someone else, I must find that great love of myself.  I have waited my entire life for someone to love me enough.  It has taken me almost 38 years to realize that someone else's love will never be enough, at least not until I can love myself enough.  God, that sounds cheesy.  But it's true.  From a crappy childhood, to a crappy adolescence, to a crappy young adulthood, to an actually pretty decent adulthood, I have waited.  Waited for my parents to love me enough.  Waited for a man to love me enough.  When a man came along who finally did love me enough, surprise! it wasn't enough.  Why?  Because I can't stand me, so how could I expect anyone else to love me?  

So here I stand, for the world to see.  On the brink of a new life.  Terrified.  Sad.  Lonely.  Hopeful.  Now, I just need to find a place to live.

 A precipice isn't always a fall; sometimes it's a climb.