2017 – A Year in Reflection

Here we are, in the last few hours of 2017.  I wish I could say it was an amazing year, but I cannot.  It had amazing moments.  It had sorrowful moments.  Basically, 2017 is just the year that . . . was.

In January, we got to meet our future daughter-in-law.

In February, the future daughter-in-law became Daughter-in Law.

March was a quiet month.

In April, we spent a week visiting my husband’s parents.

In May, I held a baby shower for Daughter-in-Law.

In June, Grandson was born and I became YaYa.

In July, we lost my father-in-law.

In August, we became a host family for two boys from two different countries.  My Soul Sister, Jenn, and her beautiful children came down to visit.

In September, we had problems with one of the Exchange Students.  So, I spent 95% of the month more stressed out than I was during the entire time my own sons were growing up!

In October, Baby Girl turned 30!

In November, we hosted Thanksgiving.  Son #1, Wife and GrandBaby Man were able to be here.

In December, my sons were able to spend the holidays with their sisters (different locations), so they were able to be with family.

I had started 2017 off with the best intentions.  I didn’t even make it two weeks before I fell off that little wagon.  The weight I slowly lost has been steadily making its way back to me.  I can still squeeze my fat ass into most of my clothes, so not all of it has returned.

I failed at weight loss.  This is nothing new, though.  I have been failing at this for decades now.  Failure and I are pretty good frenimies.

I failed to get my certifications for work.  I never was able to find the drive and determination needed to buckle down.

Plantar faciitis sucks.  The more my body mass increased, the more foot pain.  Debilitating foot pain.  However, this is a very good incentive to get my fat ass in gear and drop some excess baggage!

In 2017, I have come to accept the fact some relationships shall remain at the ‘Acquaintance Level’ even though they should be at the ‘Immediate Family Level’.  I do not like it.  Not. One. Damn. Bit.  However, I do accept it.

In 2017, I have moved further away from social media.  I hard watch the news.  The world is changing.  In many ways, I am not so sure it is for the better.

In 2017, there was a very important reminder driven home:  Life is a brief and fleeting moment.  It is so incredibly important to let our loved ones know how much they are loved for they can leave this world in the blink of an eye.  We never know if the last time we saw or spoke to him/her is going to be the very last time.

During a recent conversation with my mom, she reminded me that a loved one is never truly gone until they are no longer remembered or spoken of.  It is why, even though we never met him, we know of our Uncle Michael.  He died in a fire when he was 12 and my mom was 11, long before any of us (my siblings and I) were born.  Uncle Michael was very much a part of our lives.  As a fact, he still is.

Circling back to family members being acquaintances . . . I feel what really drove it home for me was a Christmas Card we received.  It was signed “The <InsertLastName>”  My husband did not say anything about it.  I am not even sure he even noticed.  I did not say anything to him about it.  I doubt I ever will.  It would only hurt him.  He gets that enough from this person as it is without me adding to it.

In 2017, I have decided to stop hoping for a better relationship for my husband (or me for that matter).  I am done trying to make certain members of the family feel included.  The olive branches have been extended for several years.  They will remain extended.  They will just not be replaced with fresh ones.

So, 2017 essentially turned out to be a wash.  The gain of my grandson was tempered with the loss of my father-in-law.  I ended up not meeting any of my goals.  However, I have not torn myself to shreds over it as I have done in the past.

For 2018, I am going to set tiny goals.  This way, I am not setting myself up for failure.

2018:  The Year of Baby Steps

The Elephant in the Room – Part Two

So in The Elephant in the Room – Part One I discussed the relationship my husband has with his children.  The relationship between Hubby and Stepson is more of an acquaintance-type rather than Father-Son-type.  There was a gap from November 1998 through November 2011 where Stepson wanted nothing to do with Hubby.  It boiled down to the poison fed to him by his mother because of his father’s remarriage.

Anyway . . . when my father-in-law passed away in July, I fully expected all five children to rally around and be supportive of Hubby.  The truth was only my children were there.  This made my husband’s heart swell with so much love for them even though it was breaking because of his own children.

Anyone who knows me, knows I am super protective of those I consider “mine”  . . . the ones who are part of my circle of trust.  I will lay down my life for those in my circle without batting an eyelash.  When my husband was hurt by his children yet again, I went into super-protective MoMma Bear mode.  However, I had to reign the beast in because it was not the time to have a showdown.

Instead, I did what I normally do when I need to say something without being all psychotic and bat-shit crazy . . . I wrote a letter to them addressing The Elephant in the Room.

Monday, 31 July 2017

There are several things weighing heavily on my mind.  I want to be able to say them directly to you.  However, out of respect for your father, I will bide my time.

Knowing him as well as I do, I know he will NEVER say these things to you.  I feel strongly that he should, but I know he won’t.

Here is how I see the relationship dynamic with the three of you:  superficial.  There is this GINORMOUS elephant in the room and not one of you will address it. Pop won’t because he is afraid to have his feelings crushed by you yet again.

When you told him to take a flying leap / get bent / whatever all those years ago in  November 1998, you devastated him.  The two of you are such an important part of his life.  When you shut him out, you basically yanked the rug out from underneath him and kicked him out like he was yesterday’s trash.

He shut down emotionally for a long time.  When he is hurt, it is what he does. I, on the other hand, am the complete opposite.  I go gunning for bear when those on my inner-circle are hurt.  I also express my feelings.

As a parent, we should be able to let our children know they hurt us, disappointed us, made us proud or anything else we are feeling.  In my family, we have always let our feelings out, dealt with them and then moved on.  We do not internalize them.

Anytime Daughter, Son Number One and Son Number Two did something which hurt or disappointed us (or whatever feeling), it was addressed and then we moved forward.  They are able to do the same thing in return.  Why?  Because they know no matter what that they are loved unconditionally.

Which brings me back to Pop.  He loves you both unconditionally.  Always has.  Always will.  However, and this is strictly my opinion, he isn’t sure you feel the same way.  It is as though he is afraid to let you see him warts and all.  If you see him in a bad mood, hurt or upset, you will love him less.  It is probably not the case; however, it is how it comes across.

In my opinion, I feel your relationship will never get past the superficial stage until the elephant is addressed.

The next item I want to address is how incredibly hurt your father was by your absence at Grandpop’s funeral.

I absolutely understand about waiting for this job interview.  I get it.  What I do not get is why you did not get on that phone, explain you had a death in the family, would be out of town, ask to move it forward or backward and then attend.  Any decent employer would understand and cooperate.  If they didn’t, then they are not worth working for.

Because one couldn’t make it, or rather decided not to make it, the other one chose not to go, too.  I do not understand this.  Not.  One.  Damn.  Bit.  There is absolutely no reason than the

other one couldn’t be there.

If it is because you did not know anyone, this is an issue.  You know Pop.  You know me.  You have met Son Number Two.  Son Number One and Son Number Two have only met Pop’s side of the family twice.  Daughter met them once.  Son-In-Law?  This was his first time.

You were supposed to be there for Pop.  BOTH of you.  He needed you and you were not there.  And it was very much noticed . . . Not to mention commented upon.

Speaking of comments . . . On Saturday, 8 July 2017, the Saturday before we departed for ****, Pop made a comment.  It kinda caught me off guard.  He had been quiet, trying to process the loss of his father.  Anyway, he said, “I guess I’m more like my father than I realized.”

I looked at him quizzically.  He explained, “My stepchildren are there for me and care more for me than my own children do.”  He went on.  “I knew this was going to happen.  I was just waiting to see what excuse was going to be used.”

I have to be honest, the two of you not showing up took me by surprise.  I figured the one time Pop needed you, you would be there.  I totally did NOT see this coming.

There really are no excuses for not being there.  Daughter had to completely re-arrange her schedule and scramble to get coverage for her shifts.  As a NICU Nurse, that is extremely hard to do on short notice.

Son Number One’s command was short staffed.  He had literally just returned from Paternity Leave and then his unit lost six people in the C-130 crash on Monday, 10 July 2017.

Son Number Two also had to get special permission.  His command was understanding as well.

Even Son-in-Law had to shift things around at his job.

None of them could afford to take the time off from their jobs, but they did.  For them, it was absolutely necessary to be there.  They knew Pop needed them.

Son Number One had to leave his wife and newborn son, but he was there.  Daughter and Son-in-Law had to get someone to stay with their fur babies because boarding them on such short notice and for as long as they were going to be gone was going to cost an arm and a leg.  But you know what?  They would have paid it.

The bottom line is this:  there are no do-overs in life . . . Especially for certain one time things like birth, boot camp and death.  The moments lost can never be regained.  Life is too short.  Our loved ones can be taken from us in the blink of an eye.

I could have gone on and on.  Hell, who am I kidding?!  I still can!  They are both in their 30s now.  They really have no excuse for being so bloody selfish and uncaring.  It is what it is, though.

I feel there will always be a wall between Hubby and Stepchildren.  It will not be a very high one or very thick, but there will be one.

The Elephant in the Room – Part One

In my post Blended Families Are Complicated Relationships, I touched on the relationship dynamic between my husband and his children from his first marriage.  In a nutshell, they basically told him to get bent a few months after we were married.  The rift lasted for many years.  They have since reconnected.  However, they have yet to address the elephant in the room.

I have wonderful relationships with my three children.  I am able to express my joys, sorrows, anger and anything else with them freely.  I do not have to tip toe around any issues.  I can have deep, meaningful, heartfelt and personal discussions with them.   When we get mad at each other or are hurt, we express it and then move on.  My husband does not have that type of relationship with his children.

When they reconnected, they did not address the rift / missing years.  Hubby and Stepdaughter have a much closer relationship.  It is probably due to the fact she is First Born.  As parents, First Born Children tend to hold really special places in our hearts.  Hubby and Stepdaughter have discussed deep, personal things.  Maybe not as many as I have with my own children, but it is still something.

The relationship Hubby has with Stepson is completely different.  The relationship is more of an acquaintance-type.  They do not discuss the deep, heartfelt, really personal stuff.  They discuss finances (the Stepson’s), the computer games they play, or the Stepson complains about his wife, mother and sister.  They occasionally discuss the Stepson’s two children (Hubby’s grandchildren).  It is rare though.

A recent situation occurred and Hubby is handling it in his passive-aggressive way.  I know he will probably never address it with either child.  I know one day I will.  This is a slight I will not let go by without saying something.  Especially because of how deeply hurt my Hubby is.

My father-in-law passed away on Sunday, 2 July 2017.  We received the call around 1400ish that day.  By 1800 we were on the road heading to be with Hubby’s family.  While Hubby was trying to gather things for our drive (it is a 28 hour drive if driving straight through), I was outside placing calls to make arrangements and notify children.

With Hubby being a truck driver, he processes best when driving.  Hence the 28 Hour drive.  He needed the time to process this loss.  It was unexpected.  We knew Father-in-Law was in the hospital.  However, he had pulled through every single time before, so we did not think too much of it.  We simply asked to be kept apprised of the situation.

Anyway,  during the drive I continued to stay in contact with the children.  My Daughter and Son-in-Law were making arrangements with their employers and working on getting someone to stay with their Fur Babies.  My Son Number One had just had Grandson eight days before and was just returning to work, so we were not sure if he would be able to make it.  My Son Number Two was making arrangements with his work.  Stepdaughter and Stepson were planning their drive, which is 24 hours straight through from where they live.

We were about 450 miles (724 kilometers) from our final destination when we received notification from one of my sisters-in-law that the funeral would not be until Friday, 14 July 2017.  Rather than continuing on to our destination and having Hubby fly home for a few days, we turned around and headed back home.  (I will make a separate post about our trip because it was an interesting adventure!)

We get home.  Hubby goes to work for three days.  Because he had to put his truck in the shop for maintenance, I picked him up on Friday.  As we were about to leave the parking lot, he says, “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”  I stopped the car, turned to him and replied, “Is this going to piss me off?”  The good news was he got his Bereavement Time Off (even though it is unpaid).  The bad news was his children were not going to be there.

Because there were going to be so many people, I rented a house for one week.  It was cheaper than getting three hotel rooms for the same number of days.  There was supposed to be eight of us.  With this news, it reduced us to six.

Their reasons?  Stepdaughter had an interview on the day of the funeral.  She had been waiting a long time to get it.  Stepson could not make the long drive by himself.  I was floored.  I did not see it coming.  Both had stated they would be there when the time came.  It was the one time I knew they would be there for their father . . . Or so I thought.

We are talking about their grandfather.  Why did Stepdaughter not reach out to the potential new employer, inform him of the death in the family and ask it be rescheduled (moving it forward or back)?  Why couldn’t Stepson step outside of his comfort zone, man up, and make the drive by himself?  I drove across country with three children, one of which I was nursing, by myself!  Hubby drives thousands of miles weekly ALONE.

My only comment to Hubby was, “He can’t or he won’t?”  He did not know.  The only thing he was certain of was they were not going to be there.

Here is how I know my husband is deeply hurt.  On Saturday afternoon, 8 July 2017, he was sitting on the couch.  He made the comment, “I guess I am more like my father than I realized.”  I asked, “What do you mean?”  He said, “My stepchildren are there for me more than my own children are.”  My only response, “You noticed that, did you?”

Hubby said, “I was just waiting to see what they came up with for not going.”  I told him I did not see this coming.  I honestly and truly thought they would be there for their father this one time.  Hubby said, “Why would this time be any different?  They have come up with an excuse to not come here every time before.”  I had nothing.  What was there to say?  It was the truth.

I should clarify, it is not so much Stepdaughter as it is Stepson.  Stepdaughter has no problems stepping outside of her comfort zone.  Stepson does.  He has come up with an excuse to not come to our house every time plans have been made for them to come visit.  It is infuriating to me and extremely hurtful to my husband.

Their absence was very much noted by Hubby’s family.  My children were livid.  They know how much it meant to Hubby to have them there.  He needed his wife and children there for emotional support.  It is what families do.

My husband is an exceptional man.  He is way more forgiving than I am.  This is his philosophy as well:

The End Is Near . . . Of The Year That Is

Today is Who-The-Hell-Knows of the Year of My New Beginning.  I lost track back in January when I fell into the Crater of Life.  So many things have happened, yet so many have stayed the same.

I’m still trying to get a certification for work.  Actually, I have to get two before the end of the year.  I have a little over three months but no motivation.  I won’t lose my job.  I just will not get any more raises.  I thought I was into the IT stuff.  I found out I prefer to live life rather than set my ass in front of a computer all blasted day!  Oh well, I do fairly well when the pressure is on!

I have not exercised or followed any sort of food plan for about nine months now.  Between life happening and sheer laziness, I was just not having it.  So basically, I have  been on a see-food diet . ..  I see food and I eat it!  I have tried moderation.  That requires motivation and right now, I simply do not have it.  Any of the weight I lost over the past couple of years has definitely returned with a vengeance.  I have no one to blame except myself.  I know what needs to be done.  It is up to me to get up and start doing it.

In January, Baby Number 2 brought his pregnant girlfriend home to meet the family on his birthday weekend.  We had a family get-together.  Baby Number 1 (daughter) was FaceTiming during this event.  She was in MEGA-BI-ATCH mode.  She was rude, mean and downright nasty.  The future daughter-in-law took it all in stride.  However, Baby Number 2 did not.  He was extremely hurt and very angry.

Baby Number 1 did not approve of the girlfriend.  She has the same first name as my daughter (which makes it so bloody confusing!).  At that time, she was still legally married to her first husband.  They had been separated since January 2016 but that did not matter to my daughter.  In her mind, the girlfriend was committing adultery (even though she lived with her husband for years before they got married!).  She was worried the girlfriend is only after the coveted Military Dependent ID Card and benefits.  It was not a good time that day!  Brother and Sister stopped speaking to each other.

Baby Number 2 and Girlfriend were married at the beginning of February.  It was nothing elaborate.  Her family was present.  Ours was not.  They were able to go to the Court House on a Saturday morning.  They plan to have a bigger ceremony later down the road.

Not too much happened in March.

In April, the hubby and I went to Reno to visit his family.  We are VERY glad we did.  He was able to spend some major (and much needed) quality time with his parents.  I was able to put in face-time with my Nevada Region peeps.  It was awesome!

May brought about a Baby Shower for Daughter-in-Law.  It was a nice turnout.  Of course Baby Number 1 went all-out for her nephew!  This helped to mend the rift between Brother and Sister.

In June, I became a YaYa.  I refuse to be called Grandma.  I like the grandmother (YaYa) in the movie “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”.  I plan to be like her some day!  🙂  I drove to New York for the birth.  She was induced.  When I was induced, the babies came relatively quickly.  Not so much with the Grandson!  He is one stubborn little demon!

On the drive home, I managed to pick up a nasty bacterial eye infection.  For the first time in years, I had to call off  of work.  I was out for two days.  It was horrible.  I had three days to try to get caught up after being off for five.  I started to make good progress and then . . .

My father-in-law passed away unexpectedly at the beginning of July.  We received a call on Saturday, 1 July informing us Pop was in the hospital.  Neither my husband and I thought too much of this because he had pulled through every time before this.  We asked to be kept apprised of the situation.  On Sunday, 2 July I texted my brother-in-law to find out how Pop was doing.  He said, “No call so he is still alive and kicking! mom on way up now”  Around 1400, my husband received the call from his mom telling him Pop had passed.  There is a lengthy story that goes with this.  So, I will save it for another post.

Also during this time, we were hosting a Foreign Exchange Student from Spain for a month.  I am so thankful for my family.  My sister was able to come and stay at the house with Exchange Son for the week were gone.

The day Exchange Son left, I stripped the bed.  I had tossed the comforter on the floor.  I was attempting to step over it on my way out of the room when my big toe got all tangled up.  I went down HARD.  My husband jumped up from the chair he was sitting on and said, “OH SHIT!  OH SHIT!  ARE YOU OK?!  OH SHIT!”  It was rather comical.  Before I answered him, I performed a mental inventory/examination.  As I got up from the floor, I told him, “My back doesn’t bother me anymore!”  Apparently, I gave myself an adjustment.  No chiropractor required!  Although, I definitely would NOT recommend this method!  LOL

In August, I acquired two more Foreign Exchange Sons.  One is from China and the other is from Spain.  They are trying to get used to life in the United States and I am trying to get used to having teenagers in the house again.  They are so very different from each other.  And they both make me feel SUPER short!  🙂

And here we are in September, quickly approaching the middle of the month.  Somewhere along the way, I blinked.  I have lost time.  Once gone, it can never be gotten back.  No matter what, life continues to march forward.

Today is a new day.  I must use it wisely.

Day 16 (But Really Day 311) – Something You Always Think “What If…” About

I try not to play the “What if…” game.  It leads to unsatisfaction and unfulfillment.  It leads to regret.  Regret is something I work hard to NOT have.

What if . . . I never married Mr Potato Head?  I would not have Baby Number One and Baby Number Two.  I would not have met Mr I-Do-Not-Have-Children-To-Pass-My-Legacy-On-To which means I would not have Baby Number Three.  When I was discharged from the Marine Corps, I would not have moved back to where my family lives, met and married Mr Just-Right-For-Me.  The list goes on!

Too many things would not have happened and I just cannot think like that!

Day 95 – Throw Back Thursday

Man was I skinny back then!  It is hard to believe I have been married for 18 years as of today.  In the picture are the hubby, my mom, my brother (with his infamous mullet), my brother-in-law (who was manager of the restaurant at the time) and my childhood best friend (whom my daughter is named after).  Here’s the story . . .

I needed to get dependent ID cards for my oldest two children but for the life of me could not remember what I needed.  I had been out of the Marine Corps for about four months and totally forgot anything I knew (or at least it seemed that way!).  I called up the Reserve Center.  My (future) husband was happened to be the one to answer.

When people meet me, they either like me or hate me.  I’m either or.  No in between.  My husband decided he had to meet the crazy broad on the other end of the phone!  So, he popped on over to the restaurant.  (I was shift supervisor.)  He stayed until I locked up for the night.  Then, we proceeded to sit and talk in my car for hours.  We had so much in common, yet were complete opposites.

It was not love at first sight, but there was definitely something there.  We never really dated.  He was always busy doing his Marine Corps things and I was busy working two jobs and being a single, full-time mom.  We made it work, though.

He proposed to me at the same place we met.  He even got down on bended knee!  It was adorable . . . And probably the last time he was ‘romantic’ like that!  I figured we may as well keep the momentum going and get married there.  Yes.  I am that odd.  🙂

It was a Tuesday.  I worked a normal shift at my first job.  I left from there and headed to my second.  The owners had agreed to allow us to close the restaurant for about an hour so we could have the ceremony.  Unbeknownst to me, they had called the local news stations and newspapers.

I didn’t have a wedding dress.  I was just going to wear my work clothes.  My sister brought her wedding dress and my three kids.  I get changed into it and no one like the fact that my black bra was showing through.  So . . . I had to borrow her bra, too!  I definitely had the ‘something borrowed’ covered!  LOL  The officiant was my sister-in-law’s aunt.  It was definitely a very family-involved event!

Anyway, we closed the store down for about an hour.  Any customers left inside got to be a part of my day.  It was a pretty awesome day!  As soon as the ceremony was over, I went right back to work.  I never bothered to get someone to cover my shift.  It didn’t matter because everything worked out as it was supposed to.

Many people are shocked by how quickly we married after meeting each other.  The thing is, we both had been married before.  We knew what we did and did not want in a partner.  Here we are, 18 years later.  It has not always been the easiest of times.  Lord knows, I am not the easiest person to live with!  He has put up with a lot of shit from me.  If I were in his shoes, I probably would have either (a) divorced me or (b) smothered me with a pillow while I slept!  LOL

What works in our favor is neither of us are quitters.  We know it takes work from both of us to make it work.  No relationship is ever 50/50.  Some days it can be 60/40, 80/20, 25/75, or 100/0.  Relationships require people to work together.

At one point in time, we hit a rut.  He was doing his thing.  I was doing mine.  Neither of us were doing our thing.  It took some serious work from both of us to get us back to a good spot.  There have been some rough patches along the way, but that one was the worst.

The one thing I know for sure is I lucked out when I got him!

And this is definitely my husband . . .

Blended Families Are Complicated Relationships

I am a stepmother.  I became a stepmother at 19 when I married Mr Potato Head.  At the time, his children were 6 and 5 respectively.  I loved those children as though they were my own (and I still do).  Even when I divorced Mr Potato Head, I never lost touch with them.  To this day, we still have a wonderful relationship.  For that, I am very thankful.

When I remarried, my new husband came with two children of his own.  They were 16 and 13 respectively.  Because I had already been a stepmother before, I thought I knew what I was in for.  I was fully prepared to have the same type of amazing relationship with my new stepchildren as I had with my first stepchildren.  Unfortunately, it did not happen.

My husband is an easy going person.  He does not like confrontation in any form and will avoid it as much as he can.  When he divorced Mrs Potato Head, he felt the children would be best served if they remained with their mother.  He was thinking only of what would be in the best interests of his children.  He made sure to pay more than what was Court-Ordered for child support.  He tried to do right by his children to the best of his abilities.

Mrs Potato Head was content and happy as long as my husband went along with whatever she said or decided.  It was she who said when he could come for visits.  She told him where he could and could not take the children during/for his visitation.  To keep the peace and to not make waves, my husband went along with it.

She absolutely HATED the fact he had gotten remarried.  When she found out I had three children, her feelings only intensified.  Almost from the moment she found out we were married, she began to spew venom and fill the children’s heads with poison.  She was constantly telling them their father no longer loved them or wanted them.  (We did not find this out until many years later.)

I am an Alpha Female.  There was, and is, no way in Hell I was going to stand by and watch her (or anyone else) railroad my husband.  After much discussion between him and I , he agreed it would be best to bring his two to Michigan to visit and get to know their new step family.  Mrs Potato Head was having none of it.  She turned up the intensity of her venom.

In the end, the poison she injected into them caused an estrangement between my husband and his children.  His daughter was estranged from November 1998 – November 2004.  His son was estranged from November 1998 – November 2011.

A couple months ago, I came across a folder with a transcribed partial phone conversation between my husband and Mrs Potato Head from 29 April 1999 and the letter I had written in response to the ones they wrote to their father basically telling him to get fucked from 10 December 1998.

Both items reminded me of the hell my husband lived through during those years.  Living through that time was hard.  Even though we had my three, it did not make up for his children.  It was as though his heart was incomplete.  When his daughter reached out to him in 2004, one could see him becoming almost whole.  He is beyond happy his son now wants him involved in his life.

My husband is an amazing man.  He does not see ‘his’ and ‘hers’ when it comes to the five children.  He only sees ‘ours.’  I, on the other hand, do not seem to have that ability.  A lot of it stems from the fact that I was not able to establish a relationship with them from the beginning of our marriage.  I know this.  And yet . . .

I struggle with being a good stepparent.  There is a part of me who has yet to forgive my stepchildren for the deep, devastating pain they put my husband in and through.  I am always on guard because I am unsure if something is going to happen or someone  is going to say something and the tenuous re-connection will be lost.  When it comes to my loved ones, I am worse than a Mama Grizzly Bear.  I am a FIERCE protector.

My stepdaughter and I have established a fairly decent relationship.  It took three years (after my husband and she re-connected) before we got there, though.  My stepson and I, well . . . It is still at the beginning stages (and it’s been five years).

Maybe I struggle because I am jealous of the wonderful relationship my husband has with all five children.  Hell, he even has a wonderful relationship with my first stepchildren!  I do not know.  What I do know, is I will continue to work on it.

Blending two completely separate and different families can be amazing and wondrous.  Blending two completely separate and different families can be difficult and complicated.  And sometimes, it is a little bit of everything.  Making a successful family boils down to the two at the helm – the parents.  There are no right ways and no wrong ways to unite the families.  It takes time and a whole lot of love . . .

Alone . . . Again

I am irritated as fuck right now.  My husband should be home tonight.  His job keeps him away Sunday through Friday . . . Or it’s supposed to work like that.  He should have at least 36 hours at home.  The weekends are OUR time.  Yet here I am again on a Friday night . . . Alone.

It is the same fucking complaint I have had for years.  We work extremely hard to keep our marriage working.  I know and accept that his job as a truck driver keeps him gone for five to six days each week.  He’s been driving truck for well over 10 years now.  I am used to doing things on my own during the damn week.  The weekends are meant to be for us.  We have learned over the years to make every minute count when he is home.

My irritation is two-fold tonight.  First, I am irritated with my husband because I told him multiple fucking times we have a 1300 appointment to have our taxes done on Saturday.  I know I told him more than once because it had to be rescheduled from last Saturday.  His job kept him out until late Saturday afternoon.  He claims I never told him a time.  I did.  He seriously needs to have his damn hearing checked.  I honestly do not know how many times I have to practically yell to be heard.  He can be about six feet away from me and still not hear anything I say when I talk in a normal tone.

He claims he will be home by Noon O’Clock.  We shall see.  He knows I am pissed.  He knows when I get this way, I stay this way for awhile.  I’m hoping he isn’t in a foul mood, too.  It will make for a super shitty weekend if he is!

Second, his job.  I am SOOOOOOOOO over him getting fucked over by them all the time.  If he so much as requests a morning off because he has a doctor or dentist appointment, he is punished for at least two weeks afterward.  They claim there are no loads.  I call bullshit.  It is their passive-aggressive way to punish drivers.  Heaven forbid he wants to take an actual damn vacation!  Not only is his vacation pay shit, but he will be punished for at least four weeks.

I absolutely understand the nature of the beast where truck driving is concerned.  My father was a truck driver.  My brother is a truck driver.  Trucking is in the blood.  However, he is supposed to be home on the weekends.  The dispatchers and office people at his company go home to their families every. fucking. night.  The least this company can do is take care of their drivers by ensuring they have at least 36 hours of home time.

My husband tries to schedule any appointment for the earliest possible time on Mondays.  He leaves early to make sure all of his deliveries are made on time.  If they are late, it is either due to Mother Nature, the load isn’t ready when told it would be, or the dispatcher does not pay attention to drive time.  He works his ass off for this company.  He is dedicated.

But he is getting fed up.  I have been fed up for a VERY LONG time.  My husband does not like confrontation.  He tends to be more passive-aggressive.  I, on the other hand, grab the bull by the fucking horns and body slam it.  I do not have a problem with confrontation.  I would love nothing more than to go to the company’s office and let them see me on full-blast.  It would be on behalf of all the drivers the fuck over every week.

My husband has started to look for a new job.  The problem he is running into has to do with the requirements he has.  He would prefer to be home on weekends.  He prefers regional.  Then there are the benefits.

I have told him I would not care if he is gone for two or three weeks at a time if he had guaranteed home time of at least four consecutive days.  I would adjust.  I would not necessarily like it, but I would adjust.

Right now, I really want some junk food.  Thankfully, we do not have any in the house AND I am too lazy to go out to get some.  So when I get off work in about 15 or so minutes, I will just veg out on the couch and watch a movie . . . alone.  By myself.  With the dogs.  And the cats.

Tomorrow is a new day.  He will be home.  We will go out to a nasty, greasy spoon diner across from the street from where our appointment is.  We will get some deliciously nasty, greasy, artery clogging, delicious food.  We will be together and the time will be quality time.

So, I shall follow this advice: