Distance and Time

Carlene Cooper was your average teenager. Average, that is, except for her relationship with Josh McCarthy, a member of one of the hottest bands in the world, South Station Boyz. Young love blossomed at a chance meeting when Carly was a senior in high school and Josh was just discovering what stardom really meant. Despite their chemistry, however, it was no surprise to anyone when their very different lives took very different paths a few months down the road.

Years later, their stars align again and they must decide if the spark they felt back then is strong enough to rekindle. Josh has built a name for himself in show business, but Carly, too, has also established herself as a serious journalist in New York City. Will they be able to successfully merge their lives and overcome the obstacles that drove them apart a decade earlier?

Just as she comes to the decision that will determine her and Josh's future together, Detective Trey Foster enters her life unexpectedly and Carly is faced with another choice. Will she choose the man she's spent her whole life loving or will she push it aside for a chance at happiness out of the spotlight?

This? Is my baby.

This is the story I've been working on since last year that has had me cussing and crying and shouting at the wind. Its fate sits in the hand of a publisher right now. They could scrap it and say they're not interested or they could ask me for more chapters to see what they're dealing with. I should know in a few weeks and will keep you posted.

No middle ground for me.

It's no secret that I speak what's on my mind and deal with the consequences of those words later. The other day I got into some hot water for having spoken my mind on Facebook. Long story short, people stuck their noses in where they didn't belong and my husband got dragged into it. (Believe me, you don't want to know.)

I sat there after all this happened in tears, dreading going into work. Hubs was home and we were talking about it. I told him that I hated that I didn't know how not to vent about things that make me mad or frustrate me. It's so natural for me to just spout off whatever's on my mind. I wear my heart on my sleeve and open myself up to shit like this regularly. I don't hold back. And it gets me into trouble. I told him, "I wish I could be like you: have a blow-up and four minutes later, be sleeping soundly with all of it blocked out."

That's when he pointed out something I hope I never forget: With blocking out the stress comes blocking out the passion.

I just sat there and looked at him as I let it all sink in. He continued, "When I shut out the stress and the emotion and the anger, I also shut out the smiles and the laughter and the happy. Just like you wish you could be like me, I wish I could be like you. You feel EVERYTHING...as big as possible. You laugh for hours. You smile constantly. You're in a constant state of high emotion, whether you're happy or pissed. You don't know how to do middle ground and I love that about you. Me? I feel nothing most days. I don't get pissed or angry, but that means I also don't laugh a lot. I don't smile all that often. I keep everything pretty middle-of-the-road because I don't know how not to."

He made me realize that I never want to be like that. So if it means I have to apologize for my words, wrap my hand because I've punched a wall or pick up the shards of whatever I've broken, I'll do it. Because I wouldn't give up this laughter, these smiles and this happiness for anything in the world. 

The pissed will pass.

The laughter? Never.

#tweetyour16yearoldself: The Blog

Inspired by a recently trending topic, I decided instead of spamming my followers with all the advice I had for my teenage self, I would blog about it. Some advice is funny. Some not-so-much. All of it's the truth.

1. You. Are. Not. Fat.
2. See that crazy Asian girl sitting over there by the fireplace all by herself? She needs you. And you need her. It will always be that way.
3. Your obsession with these five guys from Boston will never end.
4. But that's okay because twenty years from now, you're not only going to have met them, but they're going to know you by name and face.
5. Don't spend so much time trying to be grown up. You had to. I get it. But now? The pressure's off. Enjoy being young so you don't spend the rest of your life trying to be sixteen again.
6. Don't waste your time trying to fit in with the cool kids. Be who you are and they'll flock to you.
7. Stop being so self-conscious.
8. Those hickies make you look like a slut. Stop it.
9. Start deciding what you want to do now because that whole wife/mom thing isn't all it's cracked up to be some days. You'll want to have something to fall back on when it falls apart.
10. You're going to be given an ultimatum to stay a cheerleader or go to a YABE weekend. Go with your gut. You'll *never* regret that decision.
11. I repeat, you are NOT fat.
12. Don't be so hard on your brother and sister-in-law. This is a HUGE adjustment for them, too. Cut them a little slack and stop acting like a spoiled brat.
13. Yes, Mom is proud of you.
14. Call Dad more often and stay close. There's going to come a time when you wish you had.
15. You're going to marry the wrong man, but that's okay because he's going to give you two beautiful children.
16. You have plenty of time to settle down and have a family. Don't rush it. Take your time, explore your options. Open up your life to opportunities farther away than this one little state. Try Boston College, NYU or Northwestern. You're smart enough to get into any of those three schools.
17. You've got a great voice. Sing and be heard.
18. That Asian girl? Call her more often and don't let her slip away. Remember what I said about her needing you.
19. It's okay to be sad. It's okay to be angry. It's okay to say "Why Me?" Say it. Feel it. Be it. Then get over it. You are not a victim. You're a survivor.
20. Write more.
21. Use birth control. Always. It not only can happen to you. It will happen to you.
22. There's something coming along in about five years called "The Internet." It's going to both ruin your life and save your life. It will bring people into your circle you never thought possible. Some will be there to build you up. Some to break you down. Embrace them all with open arms (just be sure to listen to your gut on that whole breaking-you-down thing. The signs will be there).
23. You will drift away from your siblings over the next twenty years. It's okay. They will be replaced by "brothers" and "sisters" that love you more than you realize. I can't explain it. Just go with it.
24. Stay away from the Sun-In and the hair bleach. Blonde is not your color.
25. That pimple-faced kid is sweet, but he's not the one. 
26. And for God's sake, don't sleep with him.
27. Pay more attention in English and take some lit classes. 
28. Congratulations on just saying no to drugs.
29. Ask your sister-in-law to teach you how to manage your money.
30. How many times do I have to say it? You are not fat.

I can do anything!

I can do anything.

Barbie told me so.

I am, was and always will be a Barbie Girl. I received my first doll when I was 3 and bought my last one just a few years ago. I owned almost every doll that Mattel put out in the 80's. I had the houses, the cars, the pools, the outfits, the shoes (Lord, the shoes!)...you name it, I had it.

Over the years, Mattel has changed Barbie's body mold to personify a more realistic looking "person" for girls to identify with, but the truth (for me, at least) is that I didn't love Barbie because she had great clothes and a 18" waist. I loved Barbie because she was exactly who I wanted to be: A movie star, Homecoming Queen, a rockstar, a bride, a mom, a doctor, a police officer, a roller skating queen, a Playboy centerfold, a vet, a dancer, an astronaut...and a thousand other things my childhood imagination concocted. Barbie was anything I wanted her to be.

Was she beautiful? Of course, but her beauty wasn't what drew me to her. It was the dreams and imagination she inspired in me.

I may be too old to play with dolls now, but Barbie still inspires me and I still believe I can do anything.

NYC 2010: Unforgettable

I've wrestled over the last few days with writing this blog about my recent trip to New York City. There were so many incredible things that happened to me and I want to share them all, but in all honesty, some things just can't be put into words. Even for me.

This trip was something I never thought I'd be able to do in the first place, so the fact that I was able to go was a miracle in itself. When you combine that with the people I met and the things I got to do, it's almost as if I'm still waiting to open my eyes and it all to have been a dream.

But there they are: the pictures of those I met, online video clips from the talk show I visited three days in a row, receipts and business cards from places I visited. And the memories.

The most amazing parts of this trip wouldn't have been possible if it hadn't been for my friend Sherri, who not only provided me with a place to stay but also shared her life and family with me for three days. She let me tag along with her to work (despite my gasps and "Shut UP!"'s when she would introduce me to yet another celebrity I'd long-admired). She joined me and my friends for lunch more than once. She opened her heart and her home to me, allowing me to see a side of herself not many get to see. I will always cherish that trust. And for that reason, I will not be going into many details about the how's and what's of everything I experienced, but I can share some of the less-private moments.

Suffice it to say, I met some amazing people and was afforded some pretty spectacular once-in-a-lifetime Views (no pun intended). For those wondering,  the ladies of the View (Sherri Shepherd, Elisabeth Hasselbeck, Joy Behar, Whoopi Goldberg and Barbara Walters) are exactly what you see on camera - they're funny and witty and personable and kind. They each took time from their busy schedules to pose for photographs and chit-chat with me a bit. The staff at the View is also one-of-a-kind. So many nice people!! Maria Shriver, Rod Stewart and Patricia Heaton were all VERY sweet people. All three were willing to take pictures with us and I even chatted with Maria for a few minutes in the elevator on the way up to the studio. While I saw Tyler Perry, Isaac Mizrahi, Stephen Colbert, Arianna Huffington and Janet Napolitano from a distance, I didn't get a chance to talk to any of them (except for an "Excuse me, I'm so sorry" from Isaac when he ran into me in the Green Room).

The most ironic thing about this trip is that while it started out as a NKOTB/Joe McIntyre thing, it ended up as so much less than that. In fact, Joe's show was such a minute part of the trip, it's easy to forget that I actually went (and had a good time). I think I needed this trip to put things into better perspective for myself. I didn't hang out outside Joe's Pub for hours, I didn't stalk Donnie on the set of Blue Bloods. I didn't hang around after the show or try to find where Joe and Eman were staying. The whole lack of NK frenzy gave this trip that much more of an incredible and unique feel to it. It was nice to just attend something for them rather than make it my entire obsession. Very pleasant change of pace.

While Roxy, Sherri and I were on our way to Times Square to meet Clarita for lunch, Donnie tweeted "Today... Remember what's truly important! Material things? Superficial stuff? No! THE MOMENTS MATTER! Life your life & cherish every second!"  Talk about ironic! The three of us had just discussed how much the memory means as opposed to autographs and gifts. I brought home only one souvenir from my trip. The moments, though? They will live on in my memory and my heart for years and years to come. Nobody can take them away from me.

They were unforgettable.

(a bracelet Sherri gave me from Maria Shriver)

Thank you, Sherri for one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I love you so much for your gift of friendship and for sharing your life with me. 

Love deeply and without restraint

I sat today in a funeral home in southern Iowa at the memorial service for my friend Teri Fenton. She left behind four kids, five step-kids, nine grandchildren and her husband, also named Terry, who sits home alone tonight a broken man.

We're friends with numerous couples. Some we've known for decades, others a small time frame. We've known those who are in it for the long haul and those who quit after just a few years. Then there are couples like the Fentons who are each one half of the other person. They had their own interests, of course - all couples do, but to see them together, there was no doubt how in love they were.

To see Terry hunched over sobbing, his grief overwhelming him, broke my heart. I leaned my head against my husband's shoulder and squeezed his hand a little tighter as we sat through the rest of the service. I know I complain about him a lot, but tonight? I'm so grateful he's here and that he loves me...that he completes me.

All Terry has left of his wife tonight are her charred wedding rings, which he wears on a chain around his neck. For him...for all of those who've lost their other half...hugs yours a little tighter tonight.

 RIP Teri

In my next 30 years...

My friend Jessica just wrote a blog detailing her Bucket List and it inspired me to revisit mine. I've always been a dreamer, of course, but when I hit 30, I decided to evaluate where I was in my life and where I wanted to be. During that self-analysis, I did a scrapbook layout that included my Bucket List. 

The list included (though wasn't limited to):

• Parasailing
  
• Have a [scrapbook] layout published in a magazine or book
  
• Spend New Year's Eve in Times Square
  
• Go white river rafting
  
• Cuddle with a koala in Australia
  
• Swim with dolphins
  
• See a show on Broadway
  
• Have furniture that isn't second-hand
  
• Travel through Europe
  
• Take my kids to Disney World
  
• Visit the ghosts at Myrtle Plantation
  
• Spend a week with [hubby] in Hawaii
  
• Own my own home 5/1/05
  
• Go camping in Yellowstone
  
• Hike & camp in the Colorado Rockies
  
• Gamble in a real Las Vegas Casino
  
• Do the touristy thing in DC and NYC 5/8/09
  
• Live long enough to see my children grown and married
  
• Go stormchasing and see a tornado up close 11/06
  
• Spend a weekend holed up in a cabin in the wilderness
  
• Go on a cruise to Alaska
  
• Live on a farm - complete with animals and a garden
  
• Learn how to can veggies like tomatoes and pickles
  
• Learn how to ski or ice skate
  
• Tour Civil War battlefields and plantations in the South
  
• Own my own scrapbook store
  
• Write a book and have it published
  
• Have my portrait painted
  
• Be in a financially secure place to where all bills are paid ahead of time & there's money left in the bank
  

One might think this list is a long, but I don't. I think it's perfectly attainable...that is, if I still wanted to do those things. I don't. I couldn't care less about gambling in Vegas, any of the scrapbooking stuff or living on a farm. I'd happily give up the Alaska part of the cruise dream (and if I did, then that dream was accomplished in May 2011 when I cruised to the Bahamas). The koalas can go, too.

If I wrote a list now, it would include some very different things...things I left off the original list (but have since come true) and things I didn't even know I wanted until the opportunity arose. Things like:

• Love more
  
• Bitch less
  
• Repair relationships worth saving and eliminate those that aren't
  
• Rekindle old friendships
  
• Don't be afraid to be honest with people - as Dr. Seuss says, “Be Who You Are and Say What You Feel Because Those Who Mind Don't Matter and Those Who Matter Don't Mind.”
  
• Realize beauty isn't in the physical things
  
• Take better care of my body
  

These are the "fluffy" ones, as I call them (all of which I've accomplished, by the way) - the ones that are just good points to live by. As for actual tangible things:

• Get back to my high school weight (Yes, this is totally attainable.)
  
• Meet New Kids on the Block 4/6/09 (Donnie & Joe), 5/8/09 (Donnie, Jordan, Joe & Danny), 7/14/09 (Jon), 7/15/09, 5/12/11 (all of them)
  
• Redecorate my bedroom without the help of an interior designer
  
• Visit Los Angeles
  
• See the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in person
  
• Be an extra in a movie or a television show
  
• Put my feet in the water of both the Atlantic & Pacific oceans Atlantic 10/2/95, Pacific 5/22/10
  
• Live in NYC for a year
  
• See a Celtics basketball game in person (courtside seats next to Donnie Wahlberg would be a bonus) 4/1/12
  
• Have one of my photographs displayed publicly 8/11/11
  

The thing about a bucket list is this: for as many of my dreams that I acknowledge and recognize and strive to achieve, there are hundreds that lurk beneath the surface that I didn't even know I wanted until they happened.  Things like becoming friends with Sherri Shepherd, having Jon Knight seek me out during a concert, traveling to NYC on the spur of the moment (twice), an opportunity to travel over 6,000 miles in a year to see NKOTB perform. Every day is filled with surprises and encounters I never dreamed of.

So I guess if I don't accomplish everything on my bucket list, it's okay because I've been so blessed in so many other areas of my life. My cup runneth over.

Speechless

I'm rarely without words, but in nine years, I've barely been able to write more than a few paragraphs of distant emotions regarding 9/11. I wasn't in New York City that day. In fact, I just visited the city for the first time in May 2009. Like many tourists, I went to Ground Zero. I started out with the intention of doing a round trip ride on the Staten Island ferry first, then walking slowly up to the WTC when I returned to lower Manhattan. It would allow me time to mentally prepare myself for what I thought I would see when I got to Ground Zero.

What I wasn't prepared for stood battered and broken in Battery Park.

 

Standing guard in the harbor was Lady Liberty, but she was as silent as I was as I looked at the only tangible piece I'll see of that terrible day. I was with a new friend I'd met that day, so I wasn't entirely alone as I read the placard and looked reverently at The Sphere. My emotions came out of nowhere and hit me like a sledgehammer to the heart. For as uncomfortable as my friend must've felt, I could tell she felt very much the same. I couldn't catch my breath and I remember just standing there silently with tears rolling down my face and an emptiness in my heart that I've never felt before or since. I didn't know anyone who died on September 11th, yet I knew a very large part of all of us did. And we would never heal completely from the loss.

As we walked to Ground Zero together, we talked quietly about how that day affected us personally - where we were, what we saw, how we felt. It was amazing to me how very different our lives were and how the disaster touched us, yet how it brought us together on that day as we stood at the fences staring at a construction site where two of the tallest buildings in the world had once stood.

A vacant ache began in my chest and quickly consumed what was left of my composure. I crumpled in tears just yards outside fire company 10 next to Ground Zero. I read the names on the wall of the firefighters and other civil servants who lost their lives that day. I wanted to offer some sort of thanks to those at Co. 10 who lost comrades, but couldn't even catch my breath, much less speak.

While I'd felt an empty ache before my trip to New York, standing there amidst the chaos still at the site, I felt something I can't even put words to. For me? That's big. 

To those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001, I honor you. You will never be forgotten.

9/11 revisited

written September 11, 2001

I was not there. I did not die.

I did not feel the tremors of concrete exploding above me in this morning's business meeting on the 56th story. The soles of my shoes did not melt to the floor as it was licked by the flames on the level beneath me. Jet fuel vapors did not saturate my nostrils when I gasped for clean air in my smoke-filled office. My clothes were not torn or ripped off my body when glass and debris pierced the safety of the stairwell. Rescuers will not scrape my splattered body off the sidewalk because I leaped to my death from a window a quarter of a mile in the sky. You did not see me fleeing in panic from the cloud of ash chasing me like a mugger through the streets of New York City. I did not yank every door handle looking for that one unlocked car to serve as refuge from the criminal grabbing at my sleeve. The gritty taste of soot did not stain my tongue in the snowy blizzard of ash that bleached my skin, hair and clothes.

I did not mutter the 23rd Psalm just in time for the nose of my plane to kiss the steel walls of a skyscraper. My throat was not slit with a box cutter by the man who held my fate. My cell phone wasn't dialed in the last minutes of my life as I hid in a tiny box of a restroom. I did not describe to my husband the terror I was encountering just seconds before my exit from this world.

Instead, I was here. I lived.

I gaped at the radio in disbelief when Tim McGraw was interrupted with a late breaking news story of a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. I surfed the radio stations searching for more information on this catastrophic event. When a journalist's voice was replaced again with song, I would punch the "seek" button on my Alpine until another somber voice was heard. I contemplated turning my car around and returning to the sanctuary of my home. Algebra just didn't seem quite that important anymore. Math won out as I parked my car on campus. The repeated stories echoed through the empty hallways from radios turned on a bit louder than usual. A television in the student lounge boomed ominously to an astounded audience of students, most barely old enough to recall the Oklahoma City bombing with any accuracy. Many had never seen disaster of this magnitude. For that matter, none of us have.

I don't remember sitting through Prof. Jensen's examples on the board today and I still don't understand #20 on the worksheet she assigned. I can't even tell you how I got home this afternoon. Somehow, I managed to pick up my kids and meet my husband at the door with a sigh of relief. The television became our Midwest connection to the horror on the eastern seaboard. We watched in grotesque interest when CNN rolled footage of limp bodies plunging to the ground in some twisted form of suicide. I didn't blink until the video was shown a third time as the plane suddenly appeared in the right of the screen, veered suddenly and exploded through the 83rd floor of the second tower. It wasn't until the whispered words became harmonized verses as this country's congressmen sang "God Bless America" that I finally felt emancipated enough to cry.

My six year-old asked me to show him on the globe where the "bad man crashed his plane." I did. I also showed him where we live. I repeated in "kid terms" what happened and whom they think did it. I attempted to explain why the person is mad. My son, a young man who at times carries the weight of the world on his shoulders said to me, "Mama? I don't want there to be a fire. I don't want to die." His body will not be laid to rest with the thousands who perished in this disaster. But there is a small part of him that will be buried. A small part of all of us will be.

Music of patriotic mourning steals the silence of my quiet home as it nears 3am here in the Heartland. Still a bit shell-shocked, I sit in this chair typing sporadically as ideas pierce the numbness of my mind. With tearstained cheeks, a lump in my throat and a knot in my stomach that cannot be loosened I pray yet again. I beg God for some whisper of understanding or a sheet of peace to envelop me so that I may at last sleep tonight.

Today, someone took a proverbial bite of the Big Apple, but I was not there.

I did not die.

(written September 2001)

How to get divorced

Having been through a divorce myself, being a victim of my parents' divorce and seeing my children deal with the second divorce of their father, I feel there are some things that need to be said. This is for anyone who's been through a divorce, is going through one or will go through one. It's also not bad advice if you apply it to a troubled marriage.

1) Do NOT put your child in the middle of your battle with your soon-to-be-ex (STBE). Whether they're infants or teenagers, they have enough weight on their own shoulders and they're dealing with enough of their own grief over your separation without having to carry the weight of your anger, grief and frustration. And when they need to talk, you have to be willing to put your own personal feelings about your STBE aside so you can listen to their worries without influencing them one way or another. Diplomacy is vital when dealing with your child during a separation or divorce.

2) If your spouse says it's over and they refuse to take steps to repair their relationship with you, then accept that it's OVER. Don't berate them. Don't harass them. Don't take out your anger on them. Don't stalk them. Don't criticize them. Don't question their motives. Just accept it and move on. The above behavior does nothing for either party when it comes to moving on. This rule also applies to your STBE's friends and family.

3) While you don't have to like your STBE, you do need to remember that everything you do and say is being watched by others. People you never expected to turn on you, will choose sides. Sometimes, that side won't be yours. Some people you thought were your friends will be all-too-happy to report back to your STBE about the shenanigans you're pulling and the lies you're spewing.

4) If your attorney tells you to do something or not do something, listen to them. They know the law better than you do and not only could you end up without an attorney, you could end up in jail for breaking the law. That's not going to end well for anyone involved, especially your child. Also, if you have an attorney, let them deal with conflict between you and your STBE. That's why they're there. If your ex is doing something that you don't think they should be doing, let your attorney deal with the confrontation. If you don't have an attorney, then call theirs.

5) With divorce comes anger and hostility. I get that. Believe me...I've been there. Instead of focusing that hatred on your STBE, focus it elsewhere, such as yourself or your kids. Find a hobby to keep your mind off the situation. Spend more time with friends and family. Surround yourself with people who can help you use your negative energy in a positive way. Coach a little league team. Get in touch with old friends. Travel. Go to church. Get involved in the community. Read. Listen to music. Volunteer at a soup kitchen. If you find yourself unable to move past your hostility and anger, get counseling. Let's be honest, it's not a bad idea to do anyway. If you don't do it for yourself, do it for your kids. They're going to need you at your best now more than ever. Don't give them less than 100% of your best. 

6) This is an emotional time. Cry. Get mad. Curse. Throw stuff. Join a kickboxing class. Scream at the top of your lungs. Growl. Vent. Get your emotions out, then LET THEM GO. Don't pick them back up when you're done venting. Leave them alone. That's the point of doing those things...so you don't have those emotions anymore.

7) Document everything involving your STBE. Everything. Every phone call, every visit, every email, every text message, every face-to-face conversation. You may never need the information, but if you do, it's nice to have. Where kids are concerned, write down every ball game, school event, doctors appointment, visitation schedule, birthday party...anything that involves your children, whether it involves the other parent or not. Inform your STBE of those events. Even if you think they can't attend, they need to be made aware. And, in kind, every time the other parent misses or is late for an event, appointment or visitation, write that down, too. I have been divorced for eleven years and I still do this despite the fact that I haven't had to use my records in over four years.

8) While we're on the subject of co-parenting, keep in mind, it is NOT your STBE's responsibility to make you aware of events in your child's life. There are school calendars and sports schedules for a reason. Check them. Check them often. If you're able to maintain open communication (without hostility) with your STBE, then you may ask them to keep you informed of appointments, etc, but don't expect them to. Be proactive about it. It will not only make you aware of what's going on in your child's life, but your child will pick up on the fact that you care enough about them to be involved.

9) Remember that just because you're not married to your child's other parent any longer, you are still a parent. You will have to be present in your child's life for many years to come and if you're hostile toward their other parent, they will pick up on that and end up resenting you as a result. You don't have to like your STBE, but you do have to be nice to them. It's tough, but it can be done. Trust me.

10) Rely on your friends during this time. They, no doubt will have opinions about the situation, but make sure they understand that you need to depend on them for strength. They should also be aware of the things said here. They can detest your STBE all they want, but when around your children, they need to keep those emotions in check. It's also important that you not try to influence your child's relationship with your STBE's friends and family. Your child needs an emotional support system now more than ever and when you bad-mouth those people, your child feels like they've lost even more relationships.

11) Remember that children can be manipulative. I made an agreement with my ex-husband eleven years ago: "I will believe half of what the kids tell me goes on at your house if you believe half of what they tell you goes on here." It's worked for us. If there have ever been question as to something that's happened, we've agreed to discuss it like adults rather than take our children's word for it. Kids will also tell you what they think you want to hear. If you hate their father, then they will talk trash about him to you. Vice versa. If you present a united parental front to your kids, they will realize that you are still their parents, despite being divorced. They need that stability. Give it to them.

12) Stop hanging onto the roles you have had thus far. You are no longer that person. Whether you agree with the reasons your STBE wants a divorce or not, you no longer have a say in what goes on in their life. You are not in control of this situation, anymore. Walk away with your dignity and whether you like the situation or not, it is what it is. Accept it gracefully and MOVE ON.

This list is in no way all inclusive, but should be a good start beyond common sense that should already be in place. A divorce doesn't have to be messy. That is entirely up to you.

Faith. Hope. Love

These last couple years have been tough for my husband and I financially. We've struggled many times over the last year trying to balance our needs and our wants (and when you've got a NKOTB addiction and have friends from one end of the continent to the other, this makes it tough).

There have been a lot of opportunities that I've been able to partake in over the last two years, but there've also been a lot of opportunities I've missed out on, too. I don't allow myself to get excited about birthday parties or the cruises because I know it's out of my means to go.  I've gone to a few shows this year, but I had to pass up a trip to New Jersey in March with my @TeamWahlberg sisters and a trip to New York in June. Each time, I've had to cancel, I've found myself more and more discouraged and depressed. There've been times when I've canceled even going out with the girls for a movie because I wasn't fit to be around people. It's been a sad descent into this hole.

Today, however, I'm happy to report that I am employed once again. It's not a glamorous job and it doesn't pay all that well, but it's more than I've been making and it will allow us to get some bills paid off (big stress relief right there). It will also allow me to plan on some vacations in the coming months and (provided I have good Wait List mojo) the NKOTB cruise in May 2011.

It's good to finally allow myself to HOPE again!!

It's ironic, really

While I've gone on record about not liking children, I seem to be surrounded with amazing kids. Mouth's friend, Mooch is here a LOT. He's a great kid. Midget's friend, T-Dawg is here all the time, too (I'll get to that more in a minute). @DonniesDancer's kids are a light in my life, too. Their talents and kindness are inspiring. The neighbor kids stop by frequently and while they sometimes get under my skin, they feel comfortable enough here to continue coming by. A couple weeks ago, I had a sitting with a huge family. They had six kids under the age of 4. Hubs said he was always impressed with how well I handle small children during sittings. 

I get along well with kids. It's ironic, really.

As some of you might know, T-Dawg has been a constant presence at our house this summer. From the time I get out of bed in the morning until the street lights come on at night, he's here, typically eating most of his meals here. I joked that if he didn't start eating at home that I was going to send his dad a bill for child support. He's gotten a bit annoying at times with his frequent visits and it's gotten to the point that I had to set some ground rules and time frames so that our own family could function well.

Sadly, it's come to my attention that his home life is less than pleasant. His dad is a good guy, but he works a lot and the woman I'll refer to from hereforth as StepMonster is not a good person and she and her heathen offspring (aka StepVermin) make T-Dawg's life a living hell. The StepVermin constantly push his buttons and get in fights with him. They steal his food, his toys, his video games. They blame him for things that happen that aren't his fault. And of course, the StepMonster sides with her cherubic demon spawn and T-Dawg pays the price. (For example, he showed up this morning at 6:30 a.m. with his school bag full of supplies so the StepVermin won't steal it from him.)

In talking with T-Dawg's dad last night and seeing how miserable things are at home for the kid, it's become apparent that I have become the proud parent (from 6:30 a.m. until 8:30 pm) of a 13 yr old bouncing baby boy. He's a darling child, really...a bit rough around the edges, but for whatever reason, God thinks I'm good for this kid and He's brought him to me. So, I...the self-proclaimed "Mr. Wilson" (of Dennis the Menace fame), have become a refuge for this lost little man. 

I think I'm going to need more vodka.

**Addendum**
I found out that T-Dawg's dad and StepMonster are filing for divorce for his days in misery are numbered. I'm very pleased by his father's decision to leave this woman (or rather kick her out) and I think T-Dawg will benefit from it immensely.

Dancing in the Rain

I have a confession.

When I've talked about dancing in the rain before, I haven't always gone out and done it. I've meant to, of course, but I open the door and cringe the minute a drop hits my skin. I'm a puss. I'll admit it.

But tonight, I did it.

I stuffed my iPod in my pocket, left my glasses on the sofa table and I went outside, queueing up "Glitter in the Air" by Pink. 

I don't have formal training as a dancer, but I twirled and kicked and sang at the top of my lungs. I splashed and I looked up to the sky and celebrated life with my missteps and sour notes.

When was the last time you even walked through the rain instead of running inside? When did you take a stroll without an umbrella? When was the last time you said "I just don't care" and stood in a thunderstorm and sang out your favorite song to the skies with no regard for what people might think?

 

 

Addendum:

When I came back inside looking like a drowned rat, my teenage son looked at me like I'd lost my mind.

"Mom? What have you been drinking?" he asked me, as he handed me the towel I asked him to get before I went outside.

"Life, son."

"Ohhhhhhhhhkaaaaaaaay."

"Do you ever dance in the rain?" I asked him, ignoring his skepticism.

"Uhh, no. It's wet, Mom."

"Yes, my dear. That's the point. C'mon. Come dance in the rain with me."

I was met with a blank stare, followed by, "Right now?"

"Of course right now. It's perfect!"

And for five minutes, my son and I danced without music in the middle of a thunderstorm. Aside from his birth, that was my favorite moment of our life together so far. Thank you, Son.

August already?

As I sit here looking at the calendar (and pending school registration) I can't help wondering where the summer went. My summer plans were to get to the beach a few times, spend time in the woods taking more nature-related photographs, spend more time soaking in the sun, traveling and getting a little writing done.

So far I've gotten some writing done. Go figure.

The kids are here for the next two weeks and it's my intention to get to the beach at least once, spend some time walking the trails by the lake and taking a buttload of pictures of the kids (they're gonna haaaate that part). They're itching to come home (after two weeks at Dad's and a week with the grandparents) and I don't blame them. I remember going on vacation as a kid and about half-way through the week I was ready to come home. It didn't matter that I was swimming, fishing and hanging out with my summer friends at the lake. I just wanted to be at home.

I think that's where I am this summer. When I painted my office last winter, I had no idea how much I would come to love this space. It's comforting, inviting and soothing to my creative soul. This is where I want to be. But I can't spend forever here. And as I'm learning procrastination isn't as great as its cracked up to be. So next week, it's sunshine & sand for me.

What are YOU doing as summer winds to a close?

Who I am...

I'm many things - sometimes I'm quiet and shy, frequently reclusive and agoraphobic, sometimes bitchy and mean, often sarcastic and witty, occasionally charming and coy, always flirtatious and fun-loving.

I'm mouthy, sassy and opinionated. I'm also loving, affectionate, romantic and sentimental. I like animals more than kids (my own and a few others excepted) and would rather cook a meal at home than eat out at a restaurant (usually). I open my home to just about anybody, but lock my car at the grocery store. I pick up pennies in a parking lot, but rarely recycle pop cans. I believe in luck, fate and superstitions, but have a deep faith in God.

I still keep in touch with people I knew from kindergarten. Three of my best friends have known me for more than twenty years, yet I make new friends every day and I'm as fiercely protective and loyal to them as I am the ones who've been here all this time. I'm friends with convenience store clerks and celebrities, both. I consider the confidences shared by either to be just as important as the other and would never betray a trust.

I, however, sometimes trust too easily and it's come back to bite me in the ass more than once. I just can't fathom giving less than all of who I am. I, albeit naively, expect the same in return from others. Deceitfulness is the most serious of sins in my eyes and if someone has lied to me, it's rare that they are given a second chance with me.

I love the outdoors - but only when it's not too hot. Or too cold. Or too windy or rainy. I love thunderstorms and blizzards, but don't want to be caught in my car during either one. I love flowers and home-grown tomatoes, but don't enjoy gardening. I will walk through a ditch fending off ticks & snakes to get the perfect picture of a fence post, but can't stand mosquitoes or ants at a picnic.

I rearrange my furniture all the time but have only bought new towels once. I burn candles constantly but never use air freshener. I love painting and redecorating but can't stand the thought of paying someone else to do either. My ceiling fans are on year-round, even if means turning up my thermostat a little bit. I love hardwood floors and Berber carpet but don't own either.

I used to live my life based on what was on TV any given moment. Now, the TV stays primarily off and music fills my world. I have Kid Rock and Tschaikovsky on the same playlist. I also have a playlist of songs from Disney Movies.

My wardrobe has seen better days, but I hate shopping for clothes. My closet is filled with things I hardly ever wear and the top of my dresser is always covered with clothes I wear constantly. I love shoes and would sell my soul for a comfortable pair of high heels, but truth be told I prefer to be barefoot. My favorite piece of clothing is an orange sweatshirt that I bought years ago. It's six sizes too big and the lettering is coming off. My husband hates it. Maybe he shouldn't have proposed to me while I was wearing it.

I'm traditional and old-fashioned and I think the feminist movement was the biggest mistake in the 20th century. But I'm not afraid to change the oil in my car, fix a leaky pipe or build a bookshelf without a man's help, especially if he offers because he doesn't think I can do it myself. I can open  my own doors, but I love it when a man does it for me.

I'm a information gatherer. I have more random trivia stored in my brain (and sometimes the notebooks in my office) than anyone could possibly imagine, yet I don't share even a fraction of it with anyone else. I'm nosy and curious, but never to the detriment of others. I'm the go-to girl my friends turn to when they can't remember a name or a place. If I don't already know the answer, I'll spend hours researching it fully and give them more information than they ever bargained for. Unfortunately my hunger for knowledge also makes me incredibly argumentative, especially if I know the facts and I'm passionate about the subject.

I can belch the alphabet but I can also tell you exactly which piece of silverware to use during each course of a multi-course meal. I can drink a beer from a bong or sip champagne from a piece of Waterford stemware. I'm equally comfortable doing either. 

I enjoy sitting outside at a baseball game or tailgating outside a football stadium, but my heart belongs at the Gahden. I bleed green. Always have. Always will. People are often surprised at my passion, loyalty and knowledge of Celtic basketball. They also often make the mistake of calling me a fair-weather fan and assume that my love for Boston coincides with my love for a certain boy band. Make no mistakes. I've been a Boston fan before there even was a boy band from their city.

I'm sharp-tongued and quick-witted. My words are biting and I've often offended others by things I've said. Rarely has that been intentional, but I apologize nonetheless when I've done someone wrong. I don't like the taste of crow, but I will eat it when I'm wrong. I take responsibility for the things I say and do.

Growing up, the fear of being laughed at or judged by those around me controlled my every waking moment. Over time I've learned that the ability to laugh at myself is key to a happy life. I still get embarrassed sometimes, but I've embraced the fact that I will do stupid shit and I will get laughed at for it. I might as well beat them to the punch.

While I love attention, I'm not an attention whore. I have no room for drama or childish crap in my life. If you act like a 12 yr old, take your ball and go home. I have better things to do than patronize your pity parties, jealousy, gossip, hissy fits and tantrums. My own kids don't pull that crap. I'm not about to let somebody else do it. And YES, this includes my own family members.