So Much, So Little - PYHO

On Sunday, I will turn 38.

38 years of trying to figure out this thing called life.

456 months of doing the best I can.

13, 880 days of making decisions that affect the course of my life.

333, 120 hours of growing and learning.

19, 987, 200 minutes that have been filled with moments both cherished and forgotten.


Sometimes I'm proud to be turning 38.  After all, I've been alive for almost 4 decades.  I've seen a lot and done a lot in that time.  I've seen the world change from large push button machines to ones that you can hold in the palm of your hand while you swipe your finger across the machine.  I've seen fashion go from leg warmers and jelly shoes to ripped jeans and flannel to... well, whatever kids are wearing now.  I've listened to the music of Alabama and Rick Springfield, Reba McEntyre and Queensryche, JoDee Messina and They Might Be Giants, Carrie Underwood and Lady Gaga.  I've gone from surprising my teachers that I could read in kindergarten to my son's teacher being surprised not that he can read, but how well he can read.  I've moved from a small town in New York to a larger town in Florida to one of the biggest cities in the country to the capital of my state.  I've fallen in love, had my heart broken and broken a few hearts along the way.  I've learned who I am and what I want from life.  I've met the man of my dreams and, with him, brought two wonderful boys into the world.  I've had a good 38 years.

But there are other times where I wonder where the 38 years have gone.  I still remember waiting at my bus stop in first grade, holding on to my "briefcase" that held my pencils and paper for school.  I can remember fighting with my sister, hurting her sometimes but also being afraid when she would really get hurt.  I remember standing up for her, but not being able to stand up for myself.  I remember my first boyfriend, and my first kiss. And I remember how heart broken I was when I found out that he was only dating me because of a bet or something.  I remember my first love and the heart break I felt when my parents wouldn't let us date any longer.  I remember getting ready for college, getting scared out of my wits during Honors Weekend when some friends and I found evil.  I remember being able to run without getting winded, being able to move without pain.  I remember fitting into size 9 clothes (and feeling so good when I did).  I remember being on my own and going back to my parents.  I remember being innocent and trusting.  I remember being rewarded, and getting hurt.

But mostly, I remember my dreams that never came true.  I dreamed of being a teacher.  I loved my teachers in school.  I loved the knowledge they imparted and how they made things fun.  I loved teaching things to my friends and I just knew I could be a great teacher.  But when I actually got into the schools for the mentoring program in college, I couldn't handle it.  I was used to people that wanted to learn.  I went in blind.  And it was too much for me.  So teaching became a broken dream.

I remember the three men I imagined spending the rest of my life with.  The first, my first love that still holds a tender place in my heart.  The second, a man that demeaned me but I was convinced that I was destined to be with. The third, a man who had no confidence in himself which made it difficult to be with him.  Each dream, shattered in time.

I remember thinking I'd be a perfect mom and housekeeper.  I knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of getting yelled at and I'd never do that to my kids.  But I find myself yelling when angry, feeling like I'm losing control.  I hear the words, "Because I said so," coming out of my mouth when I swore I never would say them.  I see the disaster that is my home and wonder where I went wrong.

This wasn't the life I thought I'd have 10, 15, 20, even 30 years ago.  In some ways, it's better.  I have a man that understands me, supports me and loves me falling asleep next to me every night.  I have two little boys who tell me they love me more than the whole wide world.  I have family close by without being on top of me, and friends that are just a message away.  I hadn't seen where the internet was going when I made my life plans, and it's invention has given me more than I could ever imagine.  Those are the good things.

But I'm also not where I want to be, financially and personally.  Don't get me wrong.  I don't mean my physical location or the people in my life.  Those are some of the best parts of the last 38 years.  But where I want to be is something I can't figure out.  I was sure that by the time I was 38, I'd know what I wanted to do with my life.  I'd have something that I could look at and say, "I'm good at that.  This is what I want."  Instead, I feel like I'm floundering around from one thing to the next.  I throw myself into crafting for a few months, then it feels old.  I start blogging and love it... but then feel overwhelmed by the things I want to add.  I start writing - fiction, non-fiction, it doesn't matter.  But even that feels more of a requirement than a joy.  So I have this feeling of dissatisfaction because I'm convinced that, by now, I should have answers to all these things.  But I don't.  And I'm not sure if I ever will.  And I'm not okay with that but I also don't know how to fix it.

But the biggest thing that bothers me as I get older is the same thing that bothered me as a child - death.  There were a couple decades where I didn't think about death.  I didn't think about what was waiting for me in the afterlife or what I would do without certain people in my life.  Death wasn't personal.  But now, I'm seeing friends and loved ones pass away.  People that aren't that much older than me leaving behind loved ones.  My step-mother passed away 3 years ago and I've had to watch my father deal with her loss.  And her death makes me think of how much or how little time my Daddy has left and what I'll do when he's gone.  I worry that something will happen to me and my boys won't have the chance to know me.  I worry that something will happen to them and I'll shatter.  I worry because my belief in the afterlife is that what happens is what you want to happen (heaven, hell, rebirth, nothing) and because of this philosophy, I don't know what will happen to me.  I'm afraid of being forgotten and forgetting.

38 years.  So much. So little.

Trying to fight the blahs

I'm not sure what's causing it this week, but I've had a serious case of the blahs.  I haven't wanted to update my blog (as you can see by the fact that I haven't updated since Monday), haven't wanted to write my game posts (for which I'm sure Paul's ready to have my head), been putting Swap-Bot things off to the last minute (which has me stressed by the time I do it), haven't been rating for the swaps that I've received (which is driving the people that sent them crazy), barely been getting the house cleaned (which, again, is causing me stress) and feeling like a complete and utter laze-about.  The only thing I have been doing - and quite a lot of it - is reading.  I finished 5 books in the last week.  (Reviews will be coming.  Promise.)  I have three more going right now.  I've been playing a bit on Facebook and Google +, but even that's leaving me dissatisfied.

I'm sure some of it is the school situation.  Teddy is now out of the house every day, from 7:15 until around 3:45.  It's not something I'm used to.  And Pete started PDO back on Friday.  Throughout the week earlier, I was trying to find things to do with him so he wasn't quite as lonely without his big brother.  But even when he was napping, I napped rather than did things that I felt should have been done.  Rich isn't kicking me for it - of course.  He's a good husband who puts far less on my shoulders than I put on my own.  But I'm kicking me for it.

I'm hoping it's just a brief phase, as I adjust to the changes going on around me.  I have to be aware of the time daily, so I can make sure that I pick Teddy up on time.  I have to be up earlier so I can bring Teddy to the bus stop.  I have to get used to having just Pete to deal with (who is a whirling dervish of his own).  I'm bad with trying to figure out change.  It's not that I don't like it.  It's just that it takes me awhile to adjust to a new normal.

Tomorrow, I have a few hours on my own.  Some of it will be doing online things, like updating my blog, doing my book reviews, writing game posts and taking care of Swap stuff.  Some of it will be cleaning my boys' room, since I need to go through all their toys and throw away the broken ones/give away the ones they don't play with any more.  But much of it will be just enjoying the time on my own.  That, I think, is important. Now that religious education classes have started back up at the church, I will have my alone time for awhile. A time when I don't have to worry about picking anyone up or dropping them off.  A time that is wholly my own.

Things I'd love to do here

I love reading other blogs, particularly parenting and crafting blogs. I love reading product reviews and entering giveaways (the latest, a great one for any potty-training parent like myself, is over at Our Ordinary Life and is a giveaway for a Sesame Street 1-2-3 Learn With Me Potty).  I'd love to get into product reviews  and give giveaways, but I'm not quite sure how to get started with that.  I've signed up with BzzAgent, but I suspect that it'll be awhile before I start getting anything regularly to review through them.  Especially since I'm not one that wears makeup and that's a lot of what they have up there right now.  And I'd give away things here but I don't have a ton of money to do so.  If anyone has ideas for how I can start with these kinds of things (and doing ARC reviews are something I think would fit well into this blog well), I'm always up for suggestions.

I'm also thinking of trying a daily or weekly "Great things I've read" link-up.  I read a lot of blogs on a daily basis and find great things like giveaways, reviews, advice, stories, etc.  I want to try to start sharing them.  More time in front of the computer?  Maybe not the best thing in the world.  But if I have these "must dos" that I'm planning on, then maybe I'll spend less time futzing around.

I'll be honest.  I'd love to have a popular blog.  I'd love to have regular commenters and people sharing their own stories or thoughts.  I'd love to get answers to questions I pose.  I'd like to have something engaging enough that I could use for a weekly link-up or blog hop.  I'd like to know that people are reading what I write.  I don't feel like I'm getting any of that much lately.

Now, that doesn't mean I'll stop blogging.  Not everyone can turn their blog into a thousand-reader-a-day blog.  I understand that.  And I've always got hope that I'll be entertaining to SOME people, at least.  Plus, a lot of the time I AM writing for me.  I've got thoughts and feelings I want to get out.  I've got memories I want preserved somewhere.  I want to keep track of things that I'm doing and writing them down helps me do that.  It's a help for me.

But there's still enough of me that's the insecure girl of my youth that wants to be liked.  And there's still the cruel part of myself that whispers that having no comments means one of three things: no one is reading, people don't care what I write, and/or people are following the "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" adage.  Yep.  I still seem to have a few self-esteem issues.  I'm trying to work on those.

I've got to remember that I'm still finding my place with this blog, and I'm still tweaking it.  So... keep an eye here if you like to read what I write.  Share what I write with others if you think it's interesting.  Tweet it, link it on FB, pass it along in your own blog.  Things here will continue to evolve and change, just like I do every day.

The Sound I Love

I'm sitting at the computer in the dining room, listening to my children talking out in the living room.  They're talking about sippy cups.  But really, it's not the topic of conversation that gives me a smile.  It's the quality of the conversation.

Peter worships his older brother.  For all that he's the one to jump on Teddy and try to bite him, he really does think he's playing rather than trying to be mean.  He hasn't quite realized that it's unacceptable, no matter how many times we tell him.  But Pete has to always be like Teddy.  This morning, Teddy brought a craft he'd made at church yesterday to me to be fixed.  It had a little tear in it.  Right behind him came Pete, saying "Fix my snake!"  There was nothing wrong with it, but I put a little tape on it to make him happy.  A little while later, after Teddy had taken his shirt off, Pete came to me wanting his shirt off. Like I said, if Big Brother does it, Little Brother needs to follow.

Teddy loves Peter just as much as Pete loves Teddy.  When Pete is doing something and get frustrated because he can't do it, Teddy will step in and say, "You do it like this, Peter."  He loves sharing his knowledge and experience.  That's what this morning's conversation was about.  Pete was saying, "Sippy cup!"  Teddy calmly said, "Yeah, that's a sippy cup.  Now what's this, Peter?"  I don't know what he showed him, but I'm suspecting a cup because that's the answer Pete gave.  And a little while ago, while Pete was sitting on his potty (I still have hope that he'll be potty trained before he turns three), Teddy was right there next to him, telling him what a big boy he was, sitting on the potty.

I hope this relationship stays as they get older.  I don't expect them to get along all the time - they don't now - but I do hope that they'll be close and able to talk to each other about anything.  I want them to be brothers of the heart as well as brothers of the flesh.  And if the early days are anything to go by, I'll get my wish.