Pebbles and stones

So, in the comments a couple posts back, I assured Raehan I wasn't blaming myself. And I wanted to sort of expand on that...

I'm not blaming myself for not trusting my Ex. But I am recognizing it, and acknowledging that I have a larger issue with trusting people--and lets take another leap of faith and say men in particular--into my life. On the surface, I'm very open--obviously, I put all sorts of crap out here and it wouldn't seem that I'm particularly closed off or private. But there's a point at which there's a small, locked door in a small, hard wall. You might not even notice it, because of all the smoke and mirrors and interesting hedge animals strewn around in front of it.

The dream I had was about forgiveness. About a pattern in my life that has been repeating without me realizing it, and about what will happen if I don't open my eyes and let go of it. And about how much of that is in my control.

I want to move forward--for my kids, but for myself, too. I want to be a real person, not just a reflection of the person I could be. What's that line, from a movie... "I still want things." And I do. I can see these crumbs on the path behind me, the things I've wanted and the things I told myself I couldn't have, and the bricks I laid down to build that wall. I can't go back and pick them up, but I can go forward and leave them behind. And that's enough for now.

And by the way

Why would your children come down with strep throat (and borderline Scarlet Fever? Yegads!) the day before you have to fly out of town?

Well, why wouldn't they?

The world all about

I'll admit that one reason for the long silence has been that I've been thinking things over. I think we've established (several times) that I veer sharply toward the melodramatic, so I've been debating whether to put some stuff down here or not, because if I do, it might sound all Drama Queen Goes Bad, but I wouldn't mean it that way. It doesn't feel that way. It just feels like I'm admitting some things to myself.

So anyway, a while back I was driving home from dropping off the kids, and it was dark, and friggin' cold, and I thought, kinda out of nowhere, that very few people really know me. Which will probably sound really full of it and all mopey, but really, it was just sort of a confession. I don't come off all Scorpio mysterious and such. I talk too much, and I'm not particularly brooding, so you wouldn't know. It's just that if I'm going to be really truthful, there are only two people I can say I think really know me--all the parts that aren't so nice as well as the potentially good stuff. And I thought, "You know, this was an issue in my marriage, an issue that was all mine." Because I never really trusted the Ex. Because I don't trust people to like me if they really know what I'm like. And I knew that was true of me when I was younger, but it just sort of occurred to me that it's true now, too. I don't mean it in a woe-is-me sort of way. It's just sort of what it is. Not to get all wackadoo, but I've had a couple people chart my horoscope or whatever and they told me that my rising sign is the opposite of my star sign, so it means the face I present is pretty much opposite to the "inner me". (I know, I'm picturing Trelawney, too. What can I say.) I never saw much of a difference, though, and kinda thought, huh, that makes no sense. But all of a sudden, I kinda saw how that could be true. Because *I* don't really admit some of the inner stuff to *myself*, or not very often. It just sort of sits over there quietly and lets me pile junk mail on top of it. And I thought, "Wow. I will never be able to be in a healthy relationship until I sort that out."

And a few nights after that, I had a dream. I don't think it's really necessary to go into the whole thing, but it's worth saying that this dream was like my psyche slamming the book on the table, opening it up, pointing to the passage, and then just giving me the eyebrow. I woke up at 5:00 a.m. from this dream, and I started crying. I got out of bed, and cried some more. I got dressed, and cried some more. I went downstairs to work out, and cried some more. I sat and wrote the dream down, and cried some more. I cried for a good hour or more, because I got it.

And... nothing, really. I mean, it isn't like the heavens opened up and angels flew down and made me breakfast. It's just another one of those steps that you take, that eventually (hopefully) lead you somewhere.

Plus, there's a heckuva lot of snow here. Sheesh.

Perfect in every way

I'm still sucking with the posting, but I'm not such a suckie Auntie that I will neglect to send any of you still out there over to leave big ol' sloppy kisses and good wishes to my beautiful gorgeous new niece and her wonderful marvelous mamas. (Hey, Hashbrown, that hat looks familiar... and just the right size. Well played.)

Thank you for making me an official auntie, you two. I am so lucky to have you in my family. (And I promise not to show Hester incriminating photos of her Mumsie's childhood ... until she's old enough to use them properly.)

xo
PK

Stranger things

I know I've not written much or even stopped by your places for a while. Everything's fine, really. It's just, now I'm at the point where I think, oy, I haven' t blogged in ages, and I think, I should write about this or that, and then I think, OR I could just...do something else instead.

Plus, this whole old Blogger/new Blogger thing continues to kick my ass, and after having about 5 comments erased or blocked or whatever in a row, I get fed up and turn off the computer.

But anyway. Hi. Miss y'all.

wiiildfiiire

Remember that song? About how there came a bitter frost, and the pony got lost, and that dumbass chick goes running after him and (one must assume) freezes to death? Yeah, yeah, I loved that song, I was too young to have any taste, apparently, but even then I thought it was pretty friggin' stupid, running into a blizzard after your pony, and I was the age at which ponies are pretty damned important.

But now, NOW I think I get it. The poor crazy chick had been snowed in all friggin' winter. Of course she was INSANE by then. And she didn't have two kids on winter break. Or the flu. Despite getting a flu shot.

If only she'd had the Sweet Elixer that is NyQuil. I totally agree with Ms. Summers on this point: There is no substitute. Do not be swayed by those new ads that imply something is missing from the NyQuil! It's sudden lack of decongestive prowess matters not once the bright shiny light of its sedative hits you over the head. Then, it's all sweet dreams of hot dates with farm animals and small leprechauns. And waking up in the morning feeling like a semi drove over your tongue. But hey, that just adds a hint of danger to the Quil's sweet siren song, don't you think?

Ooh. I have to go now. The leprechauns are calling outside my window now, for 3 nights in a row. They're coming for me, I know.