It didn’t snow, Saturday. It was dreary, cold, and “winter” feeling weather. We put up some of our Christmas decorations. I’ll wait on the tree. We usually put it up the day after Thanksgiving. Our outdoor lights and decorations will get put up over the next couple weeks. House is looking good, though!

Last night, we ate soup and then put on some movies to watch. Adam, the dogs, and I got the couch. The kids sprawled out on the floor. It was a lot of fun.

Woke up this morning and I’d left the dishes in the sink. The living room is a mess of pillows and blankets. Not the way I normally leave my house, when I go to bed! I’ll be spending the morning cleaning up, but it was worth it. Everybody had a really nice “pretend snow day” in, Saturday.

Went into my doctor, this morning, and got some good antibiotics to take. Should be feeling much better within 12 hours! My daughter rode with me, and we picked her best friend up after my appointment. Her best friend is spending the weekend with us. The kids didn’t have school, today. It’s Veteran’s Day. It’s beautiful outside. Cold front comes in, late tonight, and now they’re saying we’ve got a 60% chance of snow tomorrow!

We got this invitation, in the mail, yesterday. I really want to go! I love Opryland at Christmas time. It’s gorgeous. It’s fun to have an excuse to wear a little black dress and get my hair and make up done. And, I get to see my husband all dressed up, just for me! He takes his work clothes off as soon as he walks in the door. He wears jeans and a t-shirt, or basketball shorts and a t-shirt, at home.

It’s been a long time since I’ve stopped by Adam’s work. Back, before we had babies, I would even go hang out with him, sometimes. Seeing my man in this world that, I’m not a part of. Seeing him be so good at things I can’t begin to understand. I have a basic understanding of what he does. I could never do it, though. It’s sexy to watch the way he carries himself. The way other people treat him. That phrase, “step into my office”, that he uses when he wants me to come to our bedroom with him, I can only imagine the sinking feeling these people at work must get, when he says it to them. As long as it works out for us to go to this showboat event, I’ll be able to pop into Adam’s work for a little while, before we go. I’ll need to meet him there, so we can make it to the event on time. He told me he would love to take me, so I think it’s a date! ❤️

The kids are playing outside, today. Tomorrow, we’re going to put up some Christmas decorations. We’ll make popcorn garland, have hot cocoa, and make it a fun day in. I’m making vegetable beef soup for supper. We’ll likely do some baking tomorrow, too. Adam’s planning to go into work, Saturday, but I’m sure it depends on the weather. I’m kind of hoping it snows, just so he can stay home with us. He’s had a long week. Work has been a lot of pressure, for him. I keep teasing him that, I haven’t done a damn thing wrong, but if I had, I sure as heck wouldn’t tell him this week! I need to get laid. HE needs to get laid. It’s been a couple of very long days. Here’s hoping the meds kick this infection quickly!!

Kids are calling for me. This is all the news I have, for now, anyhow.

I’m not feeling well, today. About 8 years ago, Adam got an infection from a cut in his hand. The antibiotics he was prescribed didn’t work. He had a MRSA infection so bad, he was rushed to a bigger hospital for surgery, and spent a few days in the intensive care unit. Doctors said he almost lost his hand. Since then, we’ve had occasional bouts with stupid freakin’ MRSA. I’ve had it a couple of times. Once in my armpit, once behind my ear. Our daughter had it, in her knee, once. That was awful for her. It’s been years since we’ve had any issues with it, though. Well, I have come down with, what I’m certain, is a MRSA infection, in a real bad spot.

I like to keep my lady bits “groomed”. A few days ago, I noticed some swelling and soreness on the right side of my…outer lady parts. I thought it could’ve just been from sex or something. It’s only gotten worse. I assume I’ve introduced my nemesis, MRSA, to my most intimate of areas. Today, it’s even worse, and now I have pain radiating down my inner thigh, hot to the touch, and a fever. I made an appointment to go see my doctor, tomorrow morning. I can only do housework for about half an hour, before I’m exhausted and have to sit down. Needless to say, I’m taking it easy.

Hopefully, this will get figured out tomorrow, and I’ll be mending soon! It had never occurred to me, I could get this infection there. Ugh.

Speaking of weather, it’s been gorgeous. We’ve had highs in the mid 70s to the low 80s and kept windows open day and night here. Today, it’s down right stuffy, in the house. Tomorrow, a cold front is coming. They are actually giving us a 50% chance of SNOW, on Saturday!!! I’m not excited. I hate the cold. Pretty sure I’ve mentioned this.

Here’s the thing. Everybody has struggles and pain. I was never supposed to show mine. We were a “perfect” family. That Hallmark Christmas movie you watch, when the main characters go home to their family, and it’s this amazing family. Growing up, I needed everyone to see that in my family, as much as my family asked from me that I showed it to the world. We were fucking royalty, where I grew up. My family was the rich family. I always had all the newest things. Gaming systems, clothes, cell phones. My mother drove the carpool to and from cheer practice. My friends were jealous. My life was perfect. Only, it wasn’t! That’s what kills me. I struggle with this. Part of me feels so guilty for bitching, because I understand I had so much. I still do! I also so want to be able to talk about the story nobody else knew. I need to be able to write here, honestly. I don’t want to seem like a spoiled brat. I don’t mean to be like that. You don’t know what goes on behind the closed doors of anyone’s home. People don’t realize that the “image” presented that can seem so damn great, maybe it isn’t. Everyone has secrets. Everyone has pain they’re not supposed to talk about, I think?

I’m never “sugar coating” my life here, with Adam. I’m raw and honest. I write about my screw ups. I write about successes. I write about my struggles and my worries. I can’t always go “deep”, when I write. I am always true to myself, though. There are days, when I feel tremendous guilt for whining about my stupid problems. There are days, when I just want to take the time to acknowledge how blessed that I know I am. There are days, when I need to spill the truth about the things I hide from the rest of the world. I know that I have a hard time getting much into my own childhood. I still have so much inner turmoil when I discuss those things. I never showed the shit to anyone. I never wanted to share the truth, that my family wasn’t a god damn Hallmark movie, either. Is there such a thing? Is there, though??

I worry, every single day, about my own children growing up and having to recover from their childhood. I want to give them everything. I want them to have nice things, but more than that, I don’t want them to ever have to “pretend” that their family isn’t who we are. I know damn well, I ain’t perfect. I’m not a perfect wife, or mama. I can say, with 100% truth I try, though.

I can’t imagine where I would be now, without “my people”. I didn’t have that perfect childhood that most people assumed, but I do have people who I know I matter to. My marriage isn’t perfect, but it’s still amazing. I’m not a perfect mama or friend or sister or daughter, but I’m enough. I know this. I know it, because my mom taught me. She taught me what I don’t want to do. There were moments, where my mother did some “motherly” things. I remember, she took me to get a new outfit for my first “date”, when I was 14 years old. She gave me a dish scrub brush, just weeks before she went all in on her “meds”. I still have that scrub brush. It’s sitting under my sink. I can’t use it. For me, it’s like a reminder that maybe my mom did love me, in her own way?

As a kid, growing up, if I was sad, my friends would get angry with me. Ohhh your life is just so terrible. If my mom saw me cry, she would be either angry, because what did I have to cry about? Or, she would get the satisfaction of knowing she got to me, when she was trying to hurt me. I learned that tears were unacceptable. I learned that, to show people my pain is weak, pathetic, self loathing, and I’m not allowed to feel that way because, look at what other people deal with! You don’t grow up knowing what’s “normal”. You don’t understand that, not everyone goes home to the family you do. I did have a lot. I had everything I ever needed and most of the things I ever wanted. The first time my mother really hugged me, was after I was raped. I remember it so well. She gave me a big hug. There were several people in the room. I just went with it, like that was our normal! Stupid me, honestly believed that maybe she had “turned a new page”? Maybe she would be like that, now? Even if it was just when people were watching, she would be that Hallmark movie mom. I was ok with that! At least there was some affection. At least she loved me enough to put her arms around me, occasionally? I make sure to hug my children, consistently. Every morning, before they leave for school, I hug them. I tell them the same thing, everyday. I say Have a great day! See you after school. I love you! I say it to each one of them, separately, too. Every night, before bed, I hug my children. I say the same things, every night. Goodnight! See you in the morning. I love you! My kids walk into the room and give me random hugs, constantly. I would never want them to feel like I don’t want their hugs. If my mother ever told me I love you, I’ve forgotten. Because, I sure don’t have a single memory of her telling me that, and I’m pretty certain I’d remember it.

I don’t want to get “into it” anymore than I have. I just needed to say some of this stuff. I needed to say, everybody has hurt. I’m tired of trying to compare trauma, and feeling guilty for complaining. As if anyone’s pain shouldn’t matter, because look how much worse this person had it. I’m tired of feeling selfish for needing to process my own shit.

I realize, I might be a little nuts. I’m writing this, in my kitchen, while I’m fixing supper. It’s Tuesday evening, so I won’t be posting this until tomorrow morning. Adam walked in the door. I had music playing, like always. A goofy song came on, and I started dancing in the kitchen and laughing. I sat here, writing about things that hurt real bad, but I’m glad to dance in the kitchen, with my husband, as soon as he comes in. He had no idea what was going on inside my head, just moments earlier. I prefer it that way. I very rarely show the “real world” what’s happening inside my head and heart. I don’t want to put this on Adam, my children, or Jackie. Jackie has childhood trauma that I can’t begin to imagine. She’s going to be coming up for supper soon. It’s almost time for her to be off work. I’m going to laugh and dance and enjoy another beautiful evening with my people.

Gizmo passed away in my daughter’s arms, yesterday. She went up to him, as soon as she got home from school. She came down sobbing and holding him. She said “MAMA!” She held him close to her chest, while he took his last breaths. I was thankful she was able to do that. At least, she got to know she comforted him, in his last moments. I think the hardest part of being a parent, is seeing your child’s heart breaking and not being able to fix it.

We had a “funeral” for Gizmo, last night. Adam dug a hole, under the same tree Gadget is buried under. I plan to scatter the ashes of my cat, Buddy, there too. I haven’t been able to do it, yet.

The kids are home from school, today. It’s Election Day. I’m spending the day just lovin’ my babies. I’m so proud of my son. He’s growing into a “man” before my eyes. He stayed strong for his sister. He helped to bury Gizmo. He found our dog had dug up by his grave, this morning, and he ran out there and fixed everything, so Mj never needs to know about that. I know everyone says it, but I have the best kids! How did I get so lucky? I have a very blessed life, with an amazing husband and children. I have a big, beautiful house. We always have enough food to eat. I sit back and think, why me? I write about the hard stuff, but I also have a whole lot to be grateful for.

I haven’t talked much about the early days, with me and Jackie. I met her because her family lived next door. We were kids. I didn’t know the extent until much later, but she endured every kind of abuse there is, growing up there. Her “parents” were the most vile people. She would come to my house as often as she could. We played darts. We jumped on the trampoline for hours. We would sit out on our porches, when she wasn’t allowed to leave her house, and “hang out” from there. She’s been in my life longer than anyone, besides my Dad and my brother and sister. She’s been part of all my life. She knows my secrets, my struggles, my pain. She’s supported me through my heartache. I’ve been here through hers. We introduce ourselves as sisters to new people. She calls my dad her dad. She has nothing to do with the people who raised her, and I don’t blame her. For Jackie, we are her family. These things, from her past, are a big reason why I’m more understanding and forgiving, with her. She still has a lot of deep hurt she’s working through. I’m not sure it’ll ever “stop” hurting, for her. My own pain from trauma sure don’t. I have compassion and deep love for Jackie. I love her in a much more pure and real way than I loved my mother. I loved the persona my mother put on for everyone else. I loved who I wished my mother was. I love Jackie, and I know who she is. She’s done some stupid things. I’ve gone months without speaking to her. We always find our way back, though. I’ve found, I can survive without her, but I don’t want to. My world isn’t complete without her in it. And, I recognize that we are all she has. I feel a great responsibility for her. That’s not to suggest she hasn’t been here for me. There are plenty of my own life events she’s been by my side through. I truly don’t believe that everyone comes across relationships like we have. Friendships that can last for decades. Ones that don’t seem to be breakable, no matter what. She can hurt me! It isn’t often. There are three times she’s really hurt me, all for different reasons. I’m not afraid to stick to my principles. I will tell her YOU PISSED ME OFF! I will wait for her to come to me and acknowledge what she’s done. Then, I will forgive her, because she’s truly sorry. She’s never repeated something she’s done to me. The truth is, what happened a couple weeks ago, wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. It was one of those things that she knew would hurt me, though. It’s very hard for me to get past having people, who I trust to love me, willfully hurt me. I forgive her. I’m over it. Adam’s forgiveness took a little longer. We are getting there, though!

Sooo long ago, before my daughter was born, I had this minivan I hated. I never drove it. I always drove my white, sporty little car, instead. I’d let Jackie take my minivan whenever she needed a vehicle, because she didn’t have one. An idiot she was dating had crossed the line. This is the same idiot that I beat the crap out of later, after he’d blackened Jackie’s face and eyes. I didn’t like him. I loved Jackie, though. Adam had told me, he didn’t want me spending time with Jackie, until she was ready to get away from this idiot. I did not obey. I never told Jackie about this, until just last night.

It was such a beautiful day, yesterday. Jackie and I sat out on the deck. Adam joined us for awhile. I had told him, a couple days ago, Jackie wanted to apologize, but she was afraid of him. Jackie told me she knew she had crossed the line with him. She wasn’t sure how to say sorry, though. I recommended just talking to him. I’m sure not afraid of Adam! I KNOW him. She’s a little more fearful of angry Adam, though. He would never, ever lay a hand on her. He’s a little scary when he’s angry, though, if you’re anyone other than me or our kids. I talked to Adam. I told him Jackie was very sorry, and she wanted to apologize to him, but didn’t know how to, because she was afraid of him. He asked me, “you trying to guilt trip me now?” I told him no. That was the truth. Jackie was gone Friday and Saturday. On Sunday, when she got home, she had brought something thoughtful for Adam. I knew it was her way of apologizing. Adam did, too. They were a lot more like the way they used to be, then. It made me very happy.

This morning, I went to my daughter’s school and watched her get an award for being on the Honor Roll. Mj is such a smarty pants! She’s always done well in school.

I recognize how blessed that I am to be able to be there with my kiddos, for things like this. Not every child, who got an award, was able to have a parent there to celebrate with them. I love and appreciate Adam for always making that possible for me and our babies.

I haven’t done one damn thing to get into trouble with Adam. He’s been, playfully, slapping my butt. He hasn’t been upset with me. He told me he was really proud of me, these last several days. He said that he feels respected, when I obey him, even when it’s hard for me to do. I love making him feel proud and respected. I’m working hard to keep it up. Sex has been amazing. He doesn’t have to be gentle, when there’s no recent issue or spanking. We both need to “make love”, for awhile, after I’ve messed up. We’re a lot more kinky and fun, when I don’t have a desperate need for Adam to remind me that he still loves me. I feel more confident. I’m not ashamed. It’s just…sexy and fun!

Today is a quiet, happy day. No worries or troubles. It’s gorgeous out. I like to hang our bedding out on our deck to dry. I absolutely love the smell of clean linens that have dried out in the sun!

Our son had his first wrestling match, yesterday. He won the first, lost the next. He had a blast, though! Our little girl lost one of her pet rats, to old age, over the summer. Her other one is dying now, too. It breaks my heart seeing her crying, because she knows what’s happening. The first one to pass, was named Gadget. This guy is called Gizmo. I want an orange tomcat. I’ve been mentioning this to Adam, a lot. Our daughter also wants one, so she’s been helping me work on Adam. Maybe, when Gizmo does go, we’ll be able to talk him into it? Not that I won’t miss Giz! It is incredible the capacity for love these rats have. They’re gentle, they love ear scratches. They actually feel bad, if they accidentally grab a little of your finger with a treat you’re giving them. They run into a corner and look guilty, much like a dog does. We’d coax them back, because they would refuse the treat you’re offering for awhile.

About five years ago, a gray kitten approached me, in our backyard. He looked hungry and dirty. I gave him some food and he climbed in my lap and snuggled in. I posted all over the neighborhood about this cat, hoping an owner would come forward. No one ever did. He never left our home. I got him neutered and microchipped. He had a collar with his name and address on it. We called him “Buddy”. At first, because we didn’t know his name, and later, because that’s what we’d been calling him. Last year, Buddy was standing on top of my cabinet my dad built me, that houses our trash can. He suddenly fell off and landed on the floor with a THUD. I saw it happen. I thought he fell? I ran to him and, my gosh, his eyes…he looked so scared. That look I saw in them still haunts me. My dad suggested, he may be having a seizure, so not to move him. I quickly realized, that wasn’t what was happening to him. I screamed HE’S DYING! I pulled him into my lap and held him and stroked his head. He relaxed, and then he died, looking me right in the eyes. I did not compose myself well. I was crying in a way my babies have never seen their mama cry. My daughter stood with Adam, her face pressed into his chest, sobbing. My son had tears rolling down his cheeks, but he sat next to me and put his arms around me. After some time had passed, Adam and our son went to find a box to put Buddy into. We never knew what happened to him? He was only, about, 4 years old. I took him to our vet clinic, where they sent him in for cremation. I still have his ashes. I intend to scatter them, under a tree, in our backyard. Buddy was the best, sweetest, most cuddly cat I’ve ever had. He was “derpy”. His tongue would hang out when we were petting him. He would sleep in one of our arms through the entire night. He never relieved himself anywhere besides his litter box. I know that I’ll never replace him. I’m just ready to love another big ol’ derpy tomcat.

If it isn’t obvious, by now, I absolutely love animals. They’re pure and they love us unconditionally. They don’t judge or insult. They are just, always there for us.

These are my random thoughts, and ramblings, for today.

We had a good friend for years and years. He’s in his late 40s, hopelessly single, kind of goofy, but we loved him. He spent so many Easter, July 4, Thanksgiving, and Christmas Eves with us. I have a tradition for Christmas Eve. I buy pajamas for everyone, and they open them on Christmas Eve. The kids look forward to it every year. I always included our friend, because he was always at our house. I won’t be buying pajamas for him, this year, because he won’t be here.

About a year ago, he started to get extra weird. We didn’t see as much of him, and when we did, he wasn’t himself. He was constantly in the emergency room with “panic attacks”. He got mean and hateful to some other friends who’ve known him since they were kids. I suspected what was happening, but I didn’t want to believe it. He saw what we went through with my mother. He hated her for what she did to us. Now, he’s the one doing cruel things. It breaks my heart. He’s throwing away everyone and everything that ever mattered to him, and he’s too numbed up on drugs to care.

Our “friend” sent a text message to another mutual friend of ours suggesting our friend didn’t have enough money to “buy [Eve]”. As if I’m up for sale to any man with enough money to buy me. Ridiculous. It makes me sad. It made Adam livid. I talked him down. I told Adam, I don’t want him to do anything. I’m not angry. My feelings are hurt. Adam told me, “Believe it or not, your feelings matter to me. That’s what makes me so mad. Nobody talks like that about my wife.” I understand that saying or doing anything to this friend will only feed into his delusions. It will simply confirm the lies he tells himself about how awful WE all are to him. The best thing we can do, is nothing. We can’t fix his problem. He doesn’t want our help.

Addiction isn’t picky. It finds everyone. Rich, poor. Uneducated, highly educated. Mechanics, coal miners, lawyers, doctors. Men, women. Young, old. I have compassion for these people. I truly do. I don’t know how to get past the damage they’ve done to me when they’re not even sorry. My mother, this friend, they don’t even acknowledge that they have done this. I refuse to continue to allow it in my life. One day, if these people are willing to work on themselves, recognize the things they’ve done, and ask for forgiveness, I will be there. Until then, I still have some pretty great people.

My family, in our group chat, like everyday…

Yep. These are my people ❤️