Its a fine line I walk, this existance

a tightrope stretched tauntly

between the safe ledge of sanity

and complete mind-imploding,

being-absorbing madness

I feel insignifigant at once

and then carrying the weight of the world...

like life would cease to exist were I not here to make oatmeal every morning

for a split second I question the human race

that inhabits my house

and their dependence on oatmeal

and then in a heartbeat the thought is gone

and the laundry's done.

As I fold, I dream of my hypothetical life

as an artist

a ballerina

an athlete

a philospopher

a poet

a composer
a professor of the ways And then he squeals "mama!"

as though I alone can bring comfortand justice in his world

Tiny me-

still pajama'd at noon and messy haired

the maker of dinner

the cleaner of floors

the queen of his world

I'm grounded

I'm humbled

I'm happy to be a tophat

in the monopoly of life.

A raindrop in the ocean of life...

What a week! If the world doesn't kill me.. my family's going to. My Grandma went into the hospital with congestive heart failure this week. It was totally unexpected, and happened to come one day before the five year anniversary of the the day my Grandpa unexpectedly went into the hospital and died that day. It was very scary for me. She's home now and doing much better, although she now has an oxygen tank to drag around with her. I also got a phone call from my mother. I was a little suprised she was calling me, I had just been thinking about her and debating about whether or not to call her. Calling my mother is the sober equivalent of a drunk- dial. I debate, I go back and forth.. I get all emotionally driven and call.. we talk for 30 seconds and she says something that either pisses me off, makes me cry, or leaves me in a blackhole of worry for the following two weeks.. and all of that is always followed by regret that I called! Anyways, it said it was her on the caller id but when I answered it was a man, he was yelling at me asking for someone else.. long story short my mom took the phone and apologized because her friend had called me on accident. I found out a few days later, from my Aunt, whom my mom always tells the real story to.. I only get the version she thinks I am old enough to hear apparently (she has yet to realize I am 26 and not as stupid as she is) Anyways, I found out that whoever her "friend" was had beat her up again and stolen her phone.. I can now reach my mother by calling an apartment a few floors up in her complex and theyll go get her...RIDICULOUS! So classy. Whats abnormal about a 45 year old woman who has to be tracked down like a highschool drop out drug dealer??? (totally sarcastic) I should have known better than to even answer that damn phone when she called. I am so gullible with her, she pisses me off. Thus, my list of motherly what not-to-do's is always growing based on my relationship with the one who birthed me. Anyways, I hope my blog doesnt make me have an air of negativity. I'm not unhappy, I' very happy. My therapist used to sit in awe and listen to me tell story after story and at the end she always would ask how I could say all that without crying.. but it never made me sad. I dont feel sorry for myself, no matter what I go through there are always people in the world experiencing far worse at any given moment. I am thankful for all the blessings that surround me everyday and I am grateful for all the experiences, both good and bad, in my life.. because without them, I wouldnt be me, right here, right now, existing in this very place in the world. No worries ;) Y

cant sleep.. too much on my mind. I feel like my mind is its own torture chamber of thoughts I dont want to think. I lay down and visualize myself inside my own head.. I am trapped in a steel box. I punch and kick and tear and claw to try to find a way out of the torture. I push my weight against one side.. then I stretch my legs out with all my might against the otherside. It wears me down and I never make any progress. Finally I am laying spent and defeated.. succumbing to the reality of the thoughts I cant excape. Like a horrifying movie you cant close your eyes for. Like someone holds my eyelids open and forces me to see the images I dread. I think about my mom too much. She takes years off my life I am without a doubt. I think about my babies and the way I hope I dont shortchange them because of my own weaknesses. I hope I give them the things they need even on the days I dont get what I need. I hope I am not so selfish that I cheat them the way I have been cheated. I need a hug. I get the best hugs in the world from my oldest boy. There are times when I honestly feel like the kids are the only ones that get it. Does that mean I'm functioning on their level emotionally? Ahh.. I just want to turn off the switch and get some rest. I want to wake up and everything be okay so I can just go back to the monotany of just simply having fun, the daily grind..existing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just had a few free moments, thought I'd post a pic or two from over the weekend. This was taken at Round Valley, Grandma Colleen & Papa Barr took the boys hiking...they had an awesome time, Trenton even found a snake!

these are the days of our lives....

So I havent posted in quite awhile. Just for the record, I am still alive...still breathing, still occupying space, just cant exactly bring myself around to write it all down and truly express the rollercoaster that my life has become lately. Stay tuned..dont forget that I am here occupying space... the saga continues, the author just hasnt found the appropriate words yet....?

The one recipe that truly warms my soul

I'm a little busy being mid-move right now... so we're doing things to save time and effort at the end of a long day of home improvement projects and dragging boxes from one house to another. One of the biggest ways I save my sanity is to make easier meals that will last for a day or two. Which of course, is a one way path straight to my beloved crockpot. That being said, I thought I would share my favorite recipe in the whole wide world. Its a bit of an odd one, all the canned items considered, but once stewed together it creates the most warm, wonderful, happy belly producing concoction that I am capable of bestowing upon the hungry men in my home. Its my own interpretation of an old recipe for Chicken Tortilla Soup...aka Mamas Mexican Soup

2-3 frozen boneless skinless chicken breasts
2 150z. cans black beans (undrained)
2 15oz. cans stewed tomatoes
1 can chicken broth
1 can tomato sauce
1 4oz. can chopped green chiles
1 7oz. can salsa verde
1 cup salsa
1 15oz. can corn (or about 1 cup of frozen)
1-2tsp. cumin powder
Dash of garlic salt
Cook 4 hrs on high or 6-8 on low

Remove chicken breasts, shred and add them back in…
Garnish with shredded cheese, crushed tortilla chips, and a scoop of sourcream

enjoy! (I always do)

My nervous breakdown...

So I couldnt sleep last night regardless of the fact that I couldnt hold my eyes open and went to bed at 8pm. By 1:30, the nervous breakdown I knew was pending finally hit me. Probably the first of many to come throughout this process. See, its been an emotional rollercoaster of a week for me. Finally got the keys to the house, cried happy tears. Went back and looked at the size of the house, cried nervous tears. Husband neglected paying union dues till his primary source of income fired him, cried very very nervous tears. Heard my cousin is in a coma and possibly wont make it out, cried sad tears. SO yesterday to take my mind off everything Justin finally gave in and took me to the new house to start my ritual cleaning process. I had been so excited about this move for so long, I think I mentally rebuilt the house to be the way I wanted...because after not seeing the inside for weeks I forgot how small it was in there. That was the breaking point for my 1am breakdown. I cried like a baby grieving the loss of my nice, new big house. The house with more room and more huge cupboards than I could ever fill. I honest to God dont think my dinner table will fit in that dollhouse sized dining room. I laid awake and visualized my kids eating on a card table. I really dont think my dresser will fit, and the closet is about 1/5 of the size of the one I have now, so I cant just get rid of the dresser and live out of the closet. I think this whole time I fooled myself into being happy and excited because I knew we really had no other choice. Now I am sad for it. I visualized myself getting a job and working overnight and missing out on ym kids' lives the way my husband has for two years now..but no more. I cried thinking of how theres no place for their toybox..no place for our sofas. No place for my coffee pot on the no counter. No place for my tupperware in those microscopic 1970's cupboards. I really hate that kitchen by the way. No place for this, that, or our family. Its done now, nothing we can do but make it work for us. I just feel like I have taken this house and the things we have for granted. Sure there were times where we couldn't or shouldn't have afforded it.. but it worked for us and it was beautiful. I spent a lot of hours complaining about the way things were set up in this big house, now it seems like such a spoiled thing to complain about. I'm afraid as a family we have way more love than can fit within the walls of that house. I guess we'll see what happens anyways, but this will be a bittersweet move. Maybe after I finally get some sleep, someday..I will be okay again. But for now I must pack..and grieve...like a big emotional baby.