I'll Keep The Wrinkles

  Now in my late 30's I'm starting to gain a sense of self. The older I get the better life seems to become. I know a lot of people would take back their teenage bodies if they could, but I have to say I wouldn't. Honestly.

   Yes, my body isn't perfect and thin like it had once been, and stretchmarks from childbirth are apparent, however the knowledge I've gained as I've grown up, is worth every wrinkle and stretchmark I have. I feel a sense of pride with them, maybe even wearing them like a badge of honor.

   As a Teenager I felt so conflicted to who I was and what I wanted. I was gangly,  awkward, and confused. I hated high school. Especially because of the social ramifications that existed and I had much bigger dreams than where permitted in the classroom. I found school too restrictive to my personality.

   For example I was constantly in trouble for daydreaming. I don't even remember how many detentions I earned for "not paying attention."  I also was sent to the school councilor for a possible learning disorder. (Which came up inconclusive, and instead I was labeled a slacker.)

   My teen years were not the high point of my life, for me life didn't come into focus until the birth of my children and even then, it was fuzzy at times. I learned so much from watching my children grow and mature and I still learn from them on a daily basis.

   At the age of 19, I decided to marry and become a mother, by twenty two I was divorced with two children, with nothing but a high school diploma. I realized things needed to change and I was responsible for making them change, so I enrolled in college and moved back to my parents house. Can anyone say humble pie?

   Although things didn't turn out the way I had planned, (never did get that college degree I wanted) a year later I met and married a great guy that took on the responsibility of two children. Together we had three more children and have been married 14 years. It hasn't always been easy or perfect, but we're still in love with each other and he's my best friend.

   By the way I still day dream, as a writer it's necessary. However in school no one ever told me it was okay  to do. Or for that matter there was even a useful purpose for it. Instead I had to learn that one on my own.

   Life has an interesting way of teaching you exactly what you need to learn. It's almost like it was tailor made for you. So if there's any teenagers out there that think life sucks, I just want them to know, it does.(At least for now.) But becoming an adult can be a very liberating and exciting. I'm not sure if I'm even there yet? I'm still working on it, even though the wrinkles have replaced the confusion I use to feel.

In her head

Life's Guilty Pleasures and Terrible Pit Falls

If there's one thing I love above anything else, it's writing, but even a writer can not live by pen and paper alone. (Rewriting scripture, is that blasphemy?)

Although I wish I could keep it that simple.  As a mother of five I'm constantly pushed and pulled in different directions. My question is, when troubles arise,(cause they always do) why is our first reaction to fight it instead, seeing the lesson that can be learned?

I think the Universe moves us in the directions we're meant to go, but do we listen?
We can punch at the bricks all we want, but in the end we'll end up with bruised and bloody knuckles.

Instead of fighting it, what if we found an alternative way around that obstacle?
Could that simple shift in energy make me get further faster? Or any of us for that matter?

I run across people so stuck in their own ways,(we all have, you know the type.)  they're not willing to try something new or give change a chance. What's the fear? Failure?

In sixth grade I had my teacher Mrs. Moore, tell me, "the real failure was not trying." I took that to heart, I still live by that rule. I love trying something new. A food I've never tasted, a place I've never been, a pair of shoes that are funky.(I love my Naughty Monkeys) I like the unusual, I embrace it especially in others.

I've tried so many different things in my life that I ended up hating. What I did learn was, I don't like water skiing, my face being pulled along a violent blanket of water was not fun. I'm not patient enough to learn the piano, and reading music is like learning a foreign  language.

The things I learned I loved doing; I enjoy dancing, is a huge part of my weekly workout. ( GO ZUMBA!) I think Chocolate is a precious gift from the Gods, especially See's Chocolates. And last I love learning about improving, on about anything; cooking, cleaning, writing, you name it, I find it fascinating to lean on many, many different things.

In the end we all have tried things that we loved and some we hated. What were some for you and what did you learn from the experience? I think that's the most important part, the value we get out of it.

I Believe in True Love!

This topic will probably never be brought up again, because the subject of love is my most guarded prize. I'm a bit stingy when it comes to talking about it, because I believe in it so deeply and cherish what I have.

Fourteen Years ago I started dating the love of my life and married him in eight short months. I was completely head over heals in love with him. He was patient and kind to me and who doesn't love a guy who listens when you talk? To me he was literally a breath of fresh air and I couldn't get enough and still can't.

I knew in a matter of weeks, I wanted to marry him. He was smart, witty, and did I mention he listens. For me this was a deal breaker. I don't even remember how many guys I'd dated who didn't listen or just made decisions for me. I didn't like that, especially after being in a abusive and controlling first marriage.

My Hubby, Ken is and was nothing like your typical A-sexual male. He was thirty years old, had a engineering degree, a job, and knew where he was going. Several of the guys I'd dated didn't have half that quality. One guy in particular's biggest goal in life was to be a UPS driver. (yeah, not exactly the pick of the litter.)

Ken had bigger dreams and he wanted more out of life when it came to his career and family. I was a single mother at the time and thought my options were limited, because what type of guy wants to be a parent to someone else's kids?

To my astonishment, he did. He was more than willing to help raise my two girls. Later he even got the opportunity to adopt them. Every time he's stepped up and shown me what a real man is like and several times I've been floored by how willing he was to take on so much responsibility.( Five kids, being one of them.)

I'd grown up with a good father that did those things for me and my siblings, but when I went out and started dating I found not a lot of guys had much to offer in terms of responsibility. Ken was definitely a keeper.

And some how in the Mormon world  he'd stayed single for so long. (Most are married by the age of 22-25.) I was amazed that such a catch had stayed single. Of course I was more than willing to snatch him up and keep him for myself. He was worth the effort and I had no intention of letting him go and still don't.

After so many years of marriage with him I've learned a great deal from watching him. He's taught me to shut up and listen once in awhile.(Although he'd never say it like that.)
Silence is good, cause sometimes completely random answers come to you without even knowing what  the question was.

Ken taught me it's okay to not know. Sometimes I'd feel stupid for not knowing the answer. He's known for saying, "So what if you don't know that, everyone can't know everything." (See what I mean with being patient.)

And last he taught me that true love does exist. After fourteen years of marriage you can still be in love with the same person and not only that, but you can still like being around them. (He's the first person I think to call when anything good or bad comes my way.) I look forward to spending time with him and yes, especially talking with him cause he's a great listener.

Final Count Down!

Here it is already March and My oldest will be graduating in May. I'm so excited! I know that a lot of mom's dread having their children grow up and leave, but it's that the reason we raised them? To grow up, leave home, and make their own way in this world.

I know I did a good job raising her. She's a good kid with excellent grades, no  record, (not even a ticket) and she has good friends. My only concern...screwing up and marring the wrong guy, like I did.

My first marriage was awful. He was abusive, mean, controlling, the list is long. I being the spitfire I was and still am, definitely added to an already tumultuous relationship. But with years of therapy, I learned it's never okay to hit a spouse.

The current question that's plagued me,  when it's self defense is it considered abuse?

In my first marriage I never hit him first, but after a year into it I got tired of being slapped, pushed, shoved against walls and spit at. So I started to fight back. First with words, than with my fist.

Of course the abuse grew worse and I felt trapped, until he grew bored and found another girl who was willing to take his crap. At first I was hurt, but quickly realized my prayers had been answered and I had a way out of my personal hell.

It was thrilling to find myself. I was not the same person I had once been, but I found a new me. A much stronger me, a girl who believed in true love and a woman who was able to take care of her children with or without a man by my side.

During that time I healed. I learned about myself. The me who'd been stripped away little by little, first by how I was allowed to dress, then by what I was allowed to do, and finally how I was allowed to act. He manipulated me taking pieces of me bit by bit until I had no idea who I was any more. And I willingly gave it to him, because I thought love was about sacrifice.(Yea, I know, it sounds pathetic.)

I needed to rediscover my likes and dislikes and find happiness again. One thing I learned about myself, I love sunsets. In my tiny two bedroom apartment on the wrong side of town I found pleasure in watching sunsets. Many evenings I sat on the front balcony, of that cold cement building watching the sunset in Concord, California. I loved it.

Sometimes I would go to my bedroom and watch the colors dance across the wall, highlighted by the shadow of a large oak tree which swayed back and forth. I slowly found peace in the that low income, nineteen fifties style apartment.

I know my daughter's smarter than I ever was at that time, but I think part of parenting is that we sometimes transfer our own fears onto our children. So chances are she's learned more from my mistake than I did. My real fear isn't that she won't get divorced or go through a bad relationship or two, but that she'll be unhappy.

Isn't that worse to a parent than anything; watching our children in pain?