in honor of the holiday that is supposed to but generally doesn’t brings thanks, i present to you, all most some ten of the people/things i am most thankful for (in no particular order)…

1.  the ability to breathe.  sometimes silently.  sometimes heavily.  sometimes rapidly.  but i breathe each day in and each day out.  b/c i can.  no matter what those days bring.  in.  and out. 

2.  silly monkey.  we’re unbreakable.  equal to none other.  he wants me when he’s happy and he wants me when he’s sad.  i am the one he asks for above all others.  i am mommy.  and he is my silly monkey.  the love and laughter between the two of us could be enough to bring world peace. 

3.  family.  i love my family.  they are the only ones who have stayed, despite me pushing them away.  they listen.  they support.  they entertain my quirks.  and why?  b/c they love me.  more specifically…

4.  mich.  my best friend.  my sister.  my movie buddy.  my pie eating companion.  my judge.  my jury.  all wrapped into one tiny little size zero package.  what i would do without her is something i’ll never be prepared to live.  the same for…

5.  J.  my bro.  my pal in silliness.  my inappropriate comment partner.  my supporter.  my helper.  my voice of reason, even if i get all worked up b/c i just must disagree.  all wrapped into one tall and tattooed package. 

6.  the korean aunts.  my mothers in disguise.  one with the hugs and sympathy.  one with the advice and wisdom.  both with more love to give than any one single person ever deserves. 

7.  my home.  MY home.  my home that i pay the mortgage on and insure.  my home that i’ve painted and decorated and stained and torn.  MY HOME.   owned by me.  to share with silly monkey.  a home.  a real home. 

8.  memories.  all of them.  good and bad.  and photos to go with 99% of those memories.  b/c if that’s all i had, i would be content.  everything else can be replaced. 

9.  freedom.  granted i was free to do as i pleased for nearly two years, it wasn’t until nov 10th that i was finally and legally unchained from a past filled with more hurt than anyone should ever have to suffer in a lifetime.  and while that past will haunt me for at least 15 more years, i’ve come to realize that it’s more mind than matter. 

10.  living.  loving.  learning.  laughing.  for which only lack of control can make more meaningful. 

thank you. 

thank you to breathing.  thank you to silly monkey.  thank you to family… thank you to mich.  thank you to J.  thank you to the aunts.  thank you to home.  thank you to memories.  thank you to freedom.  thank you to living and loving and learning and laughing. 

thank you.

** post title = marcie, a charlie brown thanksgiving, 1973

there is no worse feeling, as a mother, than watching your child suffer.  be it an illness, physical pain or something regrettably emotional, it’s something i would trade needles in my eyes with, if i could…

a couple months ago, silly monkey had a “scan” done after he started doing something weird.  not haha wow, i have a weird child b/c haha i know i have a weird child, but this was… scary weird.  i won’t go into elaborate details b/c, well, it’s not important for the world to know, but what i will say is that it scared the crap out of this mama.

i had prepped silly monkey for this “scan”.  i told him all about the big machine and how it would take pictures of his tummy.  we discussed being brave and i promised to bring curious george to keep him company.  simple enough, right? 

um.  no. 

the “scan” itself was simple enough, but it required a three-year old to lay quietly and still, on his belly, for 30-60 minutes.  if he moved, they’d have to  start the test over again.  and being that that is a ridiculous request for a three-year old to comply with, they decided to sedate him, which included strapping him to a board, holding his head and arms down and shoving an IV up his tiny monkey arm.  all the while, silly monkey screamed and cried for me, like i’ve NEVER heard him scream and cry for me.  and b/c i could barely hold my tears back, i started reading to him… book after book after book. 

it felt like an eternity.  it was probably only 10 minutes. 

thankfully, all is well.  the “scan” came back negative, which is super positive so we won’t have to repeat all of this for a surgical procedure.  but part of me feels oh so guilty for putting him through all of that for… well, nothing.  of course, it’s best to rule out the bad, but ouch.

silly monkey bounced back pretty quickly and was his fine and dandy silly self by the next morning.  but, me?  it took me more than a few days to put myself back together.  like i said, needles in my eyes… absolutely.

 ** post title = oscar wilde, a woman of no importance

i love this girl. 

she’s witty and articulate and intelligent and blunt and to the point and tell it like it is and not afraid to let herself be heard.  she’s appreciative.  she’s loving.  she’s a mom that loves being a mom, even if it wasn’t in her original plans.  she’s not afraid to admit when she’s wrong.  and the girl can write. 

funny thing is, i’ve never actually met her and her south african self.  in fact, i don’t believe i even know her real name.  a while back, we just started reading each other’s blogs, leaving comments and such.  so it’s a kind of virtual friendship of sorts, that eventually extended onto facebook.  the web really is an interesting network.

she recently posted this about her relationship and reasons to stay.  it got me thinking.  what if i had stayed?  what if i had tried harder?  what if i had just given in?  who would i  be?  what would i be? 

in answering those questions, i know that i made the absolute and proper choice to finally let go and say goodbye.  even if it meant i was giving up…

see, i was already a single mother (i was just taxed as being married).  i carried silly monkey. i birthed silly monkey.  i nursed silly monkey.  i diapered silly monkey.  i bathed silly monkey.  i fed silly monkey.  i comforted silly monkey.  i sang god-awful songs to silly monkey.  i rocked silly monkey.  i rested with silly monkey.  i lacked sleep with silly monkey.  i gave up freedom for silly monkey.  i gave up immaturity for silly monkey.  and even though M was physically there, he had just about checked out weeks after silly monkey was born, if not sooner.  i’m still doing the same things.  i just get a better tax exemption. 

had i held on, i wouldn’t know what it was like to be courted.  pursued.  taken on a real date.  b/c after nearly ten years with one person, beginning in my teen years, i have been given the opportunity to embark on those things.  and i did.  and i do.  and it’s fun.

if i would have looked the other way, i would still be wondering.  and i hate wondering.  where is he?  who is he with?  what is he doing?  i hate those thoughts.  and when M walked out the door, he took those thoughts with him. 

and now i can trust.  if i want to.  if it’s warranted. 

the thing is, if you want me to trust you, prove to me you’re worth it.  the damage M did over the past ten years left me without the ability to faithfully believe that anyone could be faithful, which is perhaps why i haven’t found the right person to introduce to my life, whole heartedly.  but that’s OK b/c my eyes are open and my heart is open to the possibility of truly being loved and adored.  with no strings attached.  and no “other woman” hiding behind closed doors. 

but most importantly, if i would have stayed, if i would have demanded that we work through something that was doomed from the start, i would never have been as happy as i am today.  i lived for years in misery.  i lived feeling like i could never say goodbye b/c if i did, what would i be worth?  didn’t i have what i deserved?  had i done something so awful that i deserved only to be stepped on, taken advantage of, cheated on and lied to?  but in the end, had i refused to let go, i would have never stopped wondering and i would have never started trusting. 

so, would i go through everything again – all of the hurt, the pain, the bruises, the heartache, the misery?  would i relive years full of memories that make me cry more than smile? 

well, yea.  to get to where i am today, absolutely.  as a wise woman recently told me… the storm is over.  it’s time to clean up.

time to go, silly monkey.  coat, please.
LOOK, mommy!
mittens.
i found my mittens!!
sure did.
now i can have some pie!!!!!
do you even like pie?
no.

i work downtown, off of a busy downtown street, across from a serene river and walking path, just a few blocks from our minor league baseball stadium and our major league hockey arena.  our office moved here about 6 years ago after outgrowing our old office space, with no thanks to our ranking in the top fattest cities in the country, i’m sure (i do my best to contribute to the office politics).

i wasn’t happy about moving the office.  it wasn’t the work that went into the packing and moving and unpacking, it was more so that we were in the heart of noName village and i loved it!  there  was underground parking and restaurants abound, all in walking distance, no less.  granted the office interior was something out of a miami vice episode, but whatever… THE HIGH BECK, DAMMIT!!

when i first checked out the new space, i didn’t have much to complain about, besides the no underground parking issue (which really is a huge perk considering it gets ridiculously cold and snowy and icy in the winter).  the office is huge.  my office is pretty spacious, given my role in the company, and the decor was… better (minus the weird paintings of ducks and war).  it was the surrounding area that had me worried.

the building was pretty new when we moved in, in a pretty undeveloped area of downtown – more industrial in sim city terms.  behind the office is a row of old, run down buildings that could pass for a factory in an old movie from the 40s.  the windows were broken out and it was pretty deserted, escape the fact that the area was inhabited by the homeless.  i’ve never been too afraid to leave the office, but it’s probably b/c 1.  i normally leave before the office closes and 2.  if i leave after dark, i usually don’t head out alone.  there are no horror stories to report.  everything, thus far (**knock on wood** and yes, i did literally knock on my desk), has been just fine and not something i’ve thought much about… until now.

you see, the city just passed the casino issue, meaning, well, we’re getting casinos.  i think it’ll be a great boost for our economy and job market, even if millions (if not billions) of the city’s, correct me if i’m wrong, just increased tax dollars are going into this project.  it’ll be a neat-o new place to go and play blackjack (b/c i am such a pro) and hang out with the girls.

what i’m not excited about is perhaps requiring our non-existent security to escort me to my car so i won’t be mugged by the crazies and gambling addicts that think i have dollars to spare b/c these new casinos are going up right behind my office where they’ve been tearing down those poor beautiful brick buildings for months now…

but whatever, the plans sure do look pretty.

it’s november 16th-ish.  and the christmas tree is up.  in fact, it went up yesterday.

i’ve been begging my sister to get it out for a week now.  i don’t know why.  it’s not even thanksgiving yet and i usually set everything up the day after.  but, i’ve felt like i needed it.  i needed to get the tree out,  i needed the glitter everywhere, i needed the gel clings on the windows, i needed the boxes of ornaments strewn about… i just NEEDED it all.

so.  she caved and we set up the tree…

i spent about two hours putting my ornaments on the tree, after i disaster area-d my upstairs hallway with my HUGE collection of some inherited, some not inherited hallmark ornaments.  i carefully unwrapped them, gently placed hooks and smiled at each and every one…

my mom’s favorite.  frosty friends.  she had EVERY one of these in the series.  except one.  the first one.  my brother and i looked for years for one on ebay.  never found one that was within a mortgage payment.  that would have been the best gift…

as would #4 in this winnie the pooh book series.  my mom bought me one of these every year since 1998 (until she passed in 2007).  they didn’t mean much back then, but i know what she was trying to do.  she was trying to create a tradition.  something we didn’t have much of in our family.  love, we had a ton of.  tradition, not so much.  and as a selfish and take-everything-for-granted young’un, i tossed them into a box and then lost #4.  if i had to choose a prized possession, these would rank quite highly on the list.

in fact, most of my ornaments are winnie the pooh related.  and most of them are from my mom…

this is the last ornament my mom gave me, before she was diagnosed with GBM.  it’s also the last ornament i put on the tree before becoming… angry.  i tried to relax, but i couldn’t.  i tried to tell myself they were just “things”, but they aren’t.  and i got more and more angry & more and more emotional b/c DAMMIT…

she should be here to start new traditions with silly monkey.  and she should still be here to pick these out for him…

she should be here to see the excitement on his face when this ends up on the tree, even though he’s seen in a billion times before…

she should demand her turn in the piano playing snowman rotation b/c i had it last year and that was our deal, after a 30 minute discussion about the fact that we didn’t EACH need one and we could suck it up and share…

and she should be here to stake her claim on the rest of the snowmen that i kept buying after she was sick b/c having them out seems to make me not miss her so, so, so much…

or maybe they make me miss her more.  or maybe they make me feel less angry.  or maybe they make me feel more angry.

and so i realized, it wasn’t the decoration i needed. it wasn’t even the holiday cheer.  all i needed was a piece of my mom – front and center, right out in plain view b/c although this will be my third christmas without her, i am beyond angry that she isn’t here.

i am simply and miserably missing a huge part of my heart.  and it is the physical and mental equivalent of torture.

i came across this survey that i had filled out about six months ago.  i thought it would be kinda fun (or not) to re-do it and see if anything changed

** new answer first, (old answer parenthetical) **

When was your last alcoholic drink?
tuesday.  nov 10th.  celebration of finality of divorce.  5 sips of champagne.  still a cheap drunk. (april 2007.  half glass of riesling.  cheap drunk.)

that is all.

a tantrum with which a perfect white door found itself stained with terror…

and alternately left a festive lined basket especially fulfilled…

and superbly uplifted…

and in the moments that followed,
one bright toddler found a fascinating way to cope…

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