We had some storms here, earlier. The lightning was so close, then the thunder was super loud. Oliver went into his kennel. That’s his “safe place”. He sleeps in it, at night. I trained him, from a little puppy, to be comfy in his kennel. He easily goes inside, if I tell him to, but I rarely ever tell him to. He takes himself to bed, when he’s tired.

I was sending pictures of our living room, to a friend. I’m trying to come up with ideas for the walls. I’d like to paint that wall, where the big window is. Make it an accent wall. I’m thinking of a mustard yellow kind of color. I also have some other things I’d like to change. I hate our ceiling fan, in there. I’d like to stain our stair railing and fireplace mantle darker, too. Diesel kept photo bombing my pictures, though 😆

Last night, Adam and I were talking, in the shower. I had questioned whether he seriously gets that upset when I roll my eyes, or flip him off. He said “YES”. Then, he asked me, wouldn’t I be upset if he did that to me? I told him, not if we’re playing around. It would depend. He insisted, it’s disrespectful, no matter what the situation. I disagreed. Adam decided he was going to have to do a better job of letting me know he means it, about not doing those things to him. Again, I didn’t agree with that plan. I guess we’ll see…I didn’t test those waters, last night.

Adam was kind of sweet, while we were getting ready for bed. We were talking about how his brother’s house had been a total bachelor pad, until recently. His brother’s girlfriend has started turning that house into a home. I asked Adam if he actually notices, or cares all that much, about how I decorate and arrange our house? I truly wondered if that mattered to him, because that’s something I enjoy so much. I pay attention to the details. I will have a vision, for something, and get excited about making it happen. Adam never complains about how I do things here. He’s never gotten angry, when I’ve decided to change something. He told me he loves the way I set our home up, and he loves seeing me be so excited and happy about ideas I come up with. I said, “That’s where I wind up spending your money, Adam. On things for our house. Things I wasn’t even sure you particularly cared about!” He told me, “OUR money. And I love it.” I think I’m pretty lucky to have this husband, who works hard to provide for our family, and never complains when I want to buy a new ceiling fan, or Easter decorations. Or, pretty much whatever new thing I come up with. Which happens regularly. He is absolutely not one bit controlling. He has expectations, and boundaries. So do I. He’s never cruel, though. We’ve learned and grown, a lot. I’m sure there’s still a lot of things we have to learn. I just wanted to take a moment to appreciate how awesome my husband really is, to me. He’s an incredibly kind, caring, generous, loving, gentle, and strong man. He’s my rock. He’s my favorite person. I’m grateful that I get to say he’s all mine!

I was a little grouchy, last night. Adam was teasing me, as we got ready to take our shower. He said something silly, to me. I rolled my eyes. He smacked my butt. I was leaning into the shower, adjusting the water temperature. I flipped him off, with both hands, from inside the shower. He was in our closet. I had no idea he could still see me. The way our bathroom is set up, the closet is in it, with its own door leading into it. There’s also a big mirror, above our sinks, across from the shower. Apparently, he’d seen me, in the mirror. He came over to me, spun me so I was facing him, leaned over my shoulder, and spanked me a few times. I dropped my attitude, after that. He’d had a long day, and he was just trying to cheer me up. I was just in a mood, and took it out on him. Well, until I couldn’t. He’s always here, if I need a hug, or to talk. Sometimes I even tell him, I don’t want to talk right now, just give me a little time. He always respects that, too. He’s not allowing me to give him my bitchy attitude, though. Like, at all!

By the time we climbed into bed, I was feeling much better. I began to run my fingers down his chest, past his waistband. He rolled over, on top of me, and started kissing me. Our clothes came off, and he was just about to find his way inside of me, when our bedroom door opened. We hadn’t locked it. Our daughter’s voice spoke to us. She was asking if I had any cough drops. Her throat hurt. Mercifully, we were still covered with our blankets. I sent her into the kitchen, to look in a cupboard that I knew they wouldn’t be in. That bought me time to put my robe on, and get some from the linen closet, where I actually keep them. I got her back to her bed, and rejoined Adam in our bed. We laughed about it all. We also finished what we’d started.

I’m slow cooking a beef chuck roast, with carrots, for supper. I’d forgotten to put it in my crockpot, until almost noon. I turned my slow cooker onto high, for 4 hours. I’ll turn it onto low, for the last 2-3 hours, before we’re ready to eat. I’m going to put some potatoes in the oven, so we can have baked potatoes with. It’s a beautiful day. 70’s and lots of sunshine. Oliver is feeling all better, since his little surgery. Mj and I are going to take him for a walk, when she gets home from school. Wyatt has baseball practice, this afternoon.

Tomorrow evening, Adam and Justin are going to go buy a brisket. Justin is getting a new smoker. They’re going to make that, for Saturday evening. We’re going to go over to their place. It looks like we should have another beautiful weekend. The weather is definitely starting to be more consistently cooperative with our desire to be outdoors.

I think I’ll go ahead and bake the last of my chocolate chip cookie dough. I’ll have some cookies ready, for Adam and the kids. I’ve got about half an hour until Mj gets home.

I wish you could see me now
I wish I could show you how
I’m not who I was

I used to be mad at you
A little on the hurt side too
But I’m not who I was

I found my way around
To forgiving you some time ago
But I never got to tell you so

I found us in a photograph
I saw me and I had to laugh
You know, I’m not who I was

You were there, you were right above me
And I wonder if you ever loved me
Just for who I was

When the pain came back again
Like a bitter friend it was all that I could do
To keep myself from blaming you

I reckon it’s a funny thing
I figured out I can sing
Now I’m not who I was

I write about love and such
Maybe ’cause I want it so much
I’m not who I was

I was thinking maybe I
I should let you know that I am not the same
But I never did forget your name, hello

Well the thing I find most amazing
In amazing grace is the chance to give it out
Maybe that’s what love is all about

I wish you could see me now
I wish I could show you how
I’m not who I was

~Brandon Heath

I was doing my morning routine. Walking around our house, tidying up, and fixing anything that’s out of place. I made the bed. Arranged the throw pillows on our couch. I folded a blanket the kids had left in the living room, last night, and put it away. They used to make “forts”, out of blankets. It’s been awhile, since they’ve done that. I began to imagine showing my mother who I am now. To show her my style. The way I decorated our new home. How my kids have grown. Their bedrooms are full of their own personal touches. Wyatt’s a little baseball star. He was on the wrestling team, this year. He’s grown, probably a foot, since she last saw him. Mj is a beautiful little girl. The last time my mother knew her, she was very into her dollhouse, and Barbie dolls. Mj insists on keeping the Barbie car my mother gave her. It was her birthday, three and a half years ago. My mother had come to our home, just days earlier. She was high, drunk, or likely both. She’d beat on windows, torn my flowers from their planters. She screamed how she was going to kill everyone inside. Then, she pulled into our driveway, on Mj’s birthday, and the kids were outside playing. Mj screamed, and ran into the house. She sobbed. We went outside, after my mother had gone. She’d thrown a birthday gift into our yard. It was Mj’s little Barbie car. I understand why it’s special to my sweet girl. Anything that makes you feel like my mother might’ve had some love for you, becomes precious. The memory of that day, when she came over with a present, is much harder for me, than most of the ones when she did cruel things. I feel guilty, even though we had such good reason to refuse to go out to her. Somewhere inside her, had she found a moment of clarity, and really just wanted to give my daughter that gift? Mj likes baby Yoda, (Grogu), now. She draws little cartoons. She started wearing a training bra, just recently. They’ve grown, so much. So have I. I’m not who I was. I’m stronger. I’m braver. I’m so much happier. My mother doesn’t know me, or my babies, anymore. I wish it wasn’t how it is, but I can’t make someone be somebody else. I’ve accepted this. Still, I feel a little nostalgic for something I haven’t even experienced. Like showing my mother around my new home.

I didn’t address the horrific Nashville news, from yesterday. We didn’t know anyone who attended the elementary school, where the shooting took place. My dad’s girlfriend has a good friend, who teaches there. She is ok, physically. Any loss of life is tragic. I can’t imagine what the families are going through. My heart breaks for them. I do have to say, I’m proud of our law enforcement officers, for reacting swiftly. While I’m saddened that any innocent lives were lost, I have to give credit to the men and women who eliminated the threat, without hesitation. We are all Nashville strong. Tennessee has made increasing efforts to prevent things like what happened. Unfortunately, we live in a fallen world. We can’t predict, or prevent all the people who desire to cause harm. Every man, woman, and child who was thrust into yesterday’s horror will suffer trauma. It isn’t fair. There’s no sense to be made of it all. I’m praying for all of the families. I’m also hugging my own babies, just a little bit tighter.

Beyond the door, there’s peace I’m sure. And, I know there’ll be no more tears in heaven…Would you know my name, if I saw you in heaven? Would you be the same, if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong, and carry on, ‘cause I know I don’t belong, here in heaven.

~Eric Clapton

Lie number one you’re supposed to have it all together
And when they ask how you’re doing
Just smile and tell them, “Never better”

Lie number 2 everybody’s life is perfect, except yours
So keep your messes and your wounds
And your secrets safe with you behind closed doors

Truth be told
The truth is rarely told, now

I say I’m fine, yeah I’m fine oh I’m fine, hey I’m fine but I’m not
I’m broken
And when it’s out of control I say it’s under control but it’s not
And you know it
I don’t know why it’s so hard to admit it
When being honest is the only way to fix it
There’s no failure, no fall
There’s no sin you don’t already know
So let the truth be told

~Matthew West

We went to Poppy’s house, last night. My sister, Jackie, and me. He was so cute. I tried to help him peel the potatoes. He told me to sit down, relax, and let him serve us. He plated all our food, and brought it to us. He buttered our corn on the cob, put salt and pepper on our potatoes. He even cut our grilled chicken into slices. My dad is just the sweetest human. We sat out on his porch, talked, and laughed. It was a great evening.

I’ve known, for a few months, that my sister has let our mother back into her life. I know she visited our mother, back in December. I know that they are “friends”, on social media. Just because I don’t use Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, doesn’t mean I don’t have friends who do. They have asked me about some things they’ve seen. Our mother has sent some hateful messages, to our dad, too. She likes to do her best to hurt us, by throwing in our face, that she has my sister back under her “spell”. Although my sister knows what our mother has done, while we’ve been adults, she has no idea the extent of her cruelty. My sister had a very different childhood, from my brother and I. Our mother always treated my sister better. My sister never was hit. She was always allowed to receive affection from our dad, and our mother gave it freely to her, as well. I begged to get my belly button pierced, when I was 15 years old. My mother wouldn’t allow it. When my sister turned 15, our mother took her to get her belly button pierced. That seems like a small thing, but it’s one example of many times she sent the clear message to me, I love your sister more, and I enjoy hurting you. She never supported me when I did cheer, or ran track, or played volleyball. She didn’t wear the pins the school gave parents, with my sports pictures on them. She wasn’t there, when I received academic awards. Not once, did she tell me I did a good job. She never missed my sister’s things. My brother was treated worse than I was. Our dad was the only person who gave us unconditional love. He just wasn’t home, to see our life very often, when we were kids.

I’ve never blamed my sister, for her childhood. I’ve never been angry with her, about the things I didn’t get from our mother. She doesn’t even know so much of these things that my brother and I do. I’m worried, for her. I’m afraid she’s going to get hurt. I’m sure of it, actually. I can’t tell her what to do, though. I can’t describe how uncomfortable it makes me, knowing our mother will be so near, this coming weekend. I’m terrified she’ll show up, at my door. I will have to make certain all doors and windows are locked. I will have to keep a very watchful eye on my children. It’s a stress I didn’t imagine myself having to experience again.

I wish my mother dead. I’m aware of how awful, and unchristian that makes me. It’s the truth, anyway. My ultimate wish, would be for her to be truly sorry, and to be the mother I’ve dreamt she could be. But, that’s not ever going to happen. I understand this, all too well. My only other hope, could be that she didn’t exist. That way, she couldn’t hurt us anymore. She wouldn’t be able to use my sister. My baby niece wouldn’t have to know a “grandma” who’s incapable of ever truly loving her. I’m not sure I can describe the way I feel. It isn’t anger. It’s not hate. I wouldn’t call it sadness, exactly. I want nothing from my mother. I want to enjoy the people who matter. I want to trust that those who care about me today, will care tomorrow. I want to feel safe.

Saturday, we had a blast. Jackie and Justin played cornhole, with Adam and I. Jackie and I are always on the same team. The guys grilled burgers. After supper, we sat outside, and lit the fire pit.

Yesterday, we babysit Pj. My sister and her husband went to see the new “John Wick” movie. Adam and Wyatt cut the grass, trimmed all the edges of the yard, and used the leaf blower to clean off the driveway and sidewalk. It looks great!

My dad had been asking for Jackie, my sister, and I to find an evening we could come over to his house, for supper. We’re doing that tonight. I’ve got rotel dip and chips, for Adam and the kids to eat, tonight. I cooked a pound of ground beef, added the taco seasoning, and then 3 cans of rotel diced tomatoes and green chilis. I cut up some Velveeta cheese, and added that into my dip, in the crockpot. I’ll leave it on “keep warm”, so it’s ready for them to eat later on. I also invited Justin and my sister’s husband, to come eat with Adam and the kids.

It’s another sunny and beautiful day. We’ve had some gorgeous Spring weather, the last few days! I’ve got something that’s happening, in the background of my life. I’m just not ready to face it, yet. I’m going to have no choice, in a few days. I will probably end up letting it all out in my writing, tomorrow. All I want to do is enjoy this day, and all the other amazing ones we’ve had. It’s hard to let my brain wander into territory that shakes up my joy. Sometimes, I wish I could escape to somewhere the bad stuff couldn’t find me. As much as I’m trying to put on my happy face, the cracks are beginning to show. My people are noticing. I’m pissed off. I’m hurt, and I’m confused. How could she let this happen? And why the fuck hasn’t SHE been warning me? My sister has been speaking to our mother. Our mother is flying here, to where we live, this coming weekend. I did not learn this from my sister. I’ve known a lot more than she knows I do, because I have people too. I’ve avoided the subject, for the most part. The couple times I’ve brought up our mother, my sister has completely denied all of the things I know are true already. I love my baby sister. I love my sweet niece, Pj. I also feel a whole lot of things at once, knowing what’s happening, behind my back. I’ll get into it, later. Not today. I need to fix my smile on, and let it go for one more day. I can’t do it today.

It’s gorgeous here, today! Sunny, and right around 70 degrees. Perfect jeans and t-shirt weather. Adam went into work. I broke down, and went to T-Mobile and got my kids iPhones. I wouldn’t let them have “smart” phones, until now. They’ve been begging Adam and I, for awhile now. We get the typical. “All my friends have one”, argument. I have a couple of very happy kiddos, now.

I made 17 hamburger patties, for Adam to grill us tonight. I’ve got a package of hotdogs (Mj won’t eat burgers), and some brats. Im making some pasta salad, and have some chips we can eat. Jackie and Justin are coming over soon. Adam just walked in the door. He came into the kitchen, like always, and he kissed me “hello”. He told me I look really pretty. My heart still flutters, when he says things like that to me. ❤️

Oliver is supposed to be taking it easy, but he’s back to my energetic, ornery dog, now. I’m struggling to keep him calm. He just wants to run and jump and play, like usual. I’m very glad he’s healing so well, though! Yesterday, he would not leave Mj’s side. When she came home, from school, he insisted on touching her at all times. It was sweet.

They normally play “hide and seek”, or jump on the trampoline, after school. Mj always says that Oliver is her best friend. Diesel, my old man dog, is a bit of a grouch. He loves me. He obeys me amazingly. He just doesn’t much care for very many other people. Oliver loves every living being! He especially loves the kids, though.

I don’t have much else to write about, today! Well, there is something that’s been brewing, but I’m not in the mood to address it, today. That’s usually how I do things. I push them down, as long and as hard as I can, until they spill over, and I’m forced to acknowledge an issue. It’s nothing I’ve done. It has to do with my mother, and my sister. I just don’t feel like talking about it, yet. Instead, I’m going to enjoy this perfect day, with my beautiful family. I hope all y’all are having as wonderful a Saturday as I am!

That’s the title of the opening song, for Son’s of Anarchy. I have all the “songs of anarchy”, in a playlist, on my iTunes. They had some great music, on that show.

I ordered our groceries, for the next week, yesterday. I’m sitting in the waiting area, waiting for someone to bring them to me. It’s absolutely pouring rain. I’m regretting choosing to pick them up, rather than delivered to my door. I had planned to be running some other errands, so thought I’d save a couple bucks, and just pick it up. Now I’m going to have to carry all these groceries inside, when I get back home. I only did one other errand, because I had to. I’m putting my other plans on hold. I’m already soaking wet, just from getting in and out of my car. It’s warm, and very humid out. I’m glad it’s not cold, but I’m tired of clouds and rain.

I can still smell Adam’s deodorant and cologne, on my neck and shoulder. I slept on his chest, with his arm around me. I can also feel last night’s activities. For our first time having sex, in too many days, we weren’t particularly gentle. I really missed my husband. I love his smell. Running my hands up and down his body, and feeling the “V” shape it makes, from his hips up to his broad shoulders. His hands are rough. Such a contradiction, as he rubs them against my soft skin. I like to put my fingers through his hair, and pull it, just a little bit. When we were finished, I curled up next to him, and twirled my fingers through his chest hair. He has a perfect little tuft of it, right in the center of his chest. It’s just enough for me to play with, before I fall asleep. Adam softly caresses my arm.

We talked about going out to eat, this weekend, to celebrate our anniversary. I would rather grill something at home, with him. We can work on the bonus room area. Maybe do some flower shopping, and start making our outside areas look pretty again. It’s supposed to be sunny and warm, all weekend. Justin and Jackie should come over and play cornhole with us, Sunday afternoon.

Well, my groceries are in my trunk now, so I’m going to head home.