Witness

I stopped to post this entry. I stopped my very hectic, busy, payroll tax filing life to write this down. I took time away from my wife and new, tiny, miraculous wonderful baby.

I don't want to forget this moment.

Earlier today, someone that I am very close to, though I believe that I sometimes take this relationship for granted, asked me to read a letter that she wrote to her Father. I use the capital letter only for grammatical correctness.

He doesn't deserve the big F. At least not in that way.

There is absolutely not anyone that could misconstrue this man's actions towards his daughters as anything but twisted, gut wrenching, self serving and malicious.

I'm certain that you get the idea without me having to sickly type it out.

She asked me to read her letter to her Father where she would finally tell him how she feels. Purging, cleansing, growing and probably hurting so much, more than I care to even witness.

She wanted me to help her make a succinct, laser point presentation of the pain of what her parent's, both, knowingly chose to do to her and her sisters. To their childeren.

I am still the only party in this relationship to acknowledge that her Mother was complicit.

She wanted her arguments to sound smart. She wanted to be strong and not show any weakness. She wanted me to help her, help her make sense, help her make a strong point, help her to be heard.

I read her letter to her Father, not fully realizing the privilege that this really wonderful human was giving me.

In the end, I told her not to change a thing. There was nothing that should be added or subtracted. It was horrible to hear and beautiful to witness something so cathartic and personal.

I went into it thinking how I could help her and "I would just clean it up" but stick to her point. "She" would show them who Sandra is with big words, dramatic punctuation and and precision skewering.

I learned something and though I can't describe it, I know how it feels.

Sandra not only showed them but she showed me as well. Hopefully I won't read this tomorrow and regret it since this blog isn't private. But fuck it. Who says that I'm afraid to be mushy.

The Good Life

My beautiful wife and daughter are sleeping right behind me. My awesome son is upstairs doing electronic things. I am having a glass of wine, listening to Jerry Sandusky lie on the news while my dogs sleep nearby.

I am thankful, and I just thought that I should acknowledge it. Right now, at this time in my life is the best I have ever felt.

As rote as it sounds, I am grateful!

New Mom

I've spent the last few weeks with my mother in law. She came to help us while Kim was on mandatory bed rest. You can imagine how that went knowing Kim.

I've learned a lot about Jovette the past few weeks, and there has not been one thing that I don't like. I feel so fortunate to have her in my life and in our daughter's life.

I think that the most important thing that I have come to know is her sweetness and compassion and love for her family, me included.

In summation, she is not my mother in law. I have dubbed her New Mom, and it has stuck and made us all smile, most of all me.

So this blog is to my New Mom. It brings tears to my eyes to think about you and I miss you now even as we anticipate your upcoming return.

I hope to never let her down.

Living Whole Heartedly

The past couple of weeks I've been trying out being truthful with my customers about my family. I've been very reluctant to tell people that my spouse is a woman and that we have a 10 yr old and a baby on the way.

Today I was greeted by one of my customers, who had heard from another of my customers, that I had a new arrival. She was so warm and congratulating and genuinely interested in my baby and ultimately in who I really am.

I have been under the assumption that I would get a cold, prejudiced reception. And as I have stretched myself and allowed myself to be truthfully, vulnerably out, I have found that perhaps the bias was mine.

I've always been able to count on my friends and my new family to love and accept me, and now I think that I need to give a big shout out to all of my wonderful employees and customers for showing me such kindness and generosity in my journey to share my family openly and honestly.

I feel emboldened to be all of who I am without fear of other's reactions.

And Then Jake Said.....

I had a blog on MySpace that was ruined through a series of unfortunate events. Some of what I wrote were things that Jake has said, hence the title.

So this is a continuation of that.

Jake and I were sitting together the other day sharing space as we sometimes do. That is typically the extent of it. We share space. We watch tv. We read. We eat. Sometimes we play games, throw the ball or walk the neighborhood. Generally, though, we share space.

He is my amazing boy. Truly an amazing human. So happy to share these moments with him.

Yes, I am aware that I don't write in complete sentences. I don't care.

So we were watching something and there was a reference to a virgin.

Jake says, "Momma, what is a virgin?"

I answer him truthfully. That is what I am supposed to do, right?

He looked at me as if something was amiss, so I asked him, "Where did you see that word?"

I knew that he must've seen it and didn't spontaneously generate it.

So he tells me that he saw it on the tv.

Then he says, "Uuuuhhhmmmmm Momma, isn't a virgin a furry animal?"

"No sweetheart."

I am puzzled at this point when Jake interjects to straighten me out.

"Momma, I get it now. I remember what I thought. I was thinking of a vermin not a virgin."

"That totally makes sense now, sweetheart."

October 6, 2011

Today is my anniversary with Kim. Interestingly enough we both forgot and made plans with our adopted family Doug & Vanessa. When we realized it, we both had a good laugh and were genuinely ok with it.

We didn't buy gifts or plan special dinner or really do a whole lot other than I'm sure that I will get a card, which really is one of my favorite things to get from my wife, her feelings written down.

I don't know that people really have a sense of how I feel about Kim. I think that I am very protective of that and don't spend much time shouting it from the rafters or so I've been told by my group.

It's hard to articulate a feeling especially the feelings that I have for Kim. She is my perfect spouse, friend, coparent and everything else that one person can be to another. I love her more than I have ever loved anyone, ever.

When I am with her, I feel understood and deeply cared for. I am accepted and loved, warts and all, unconditionally. I love her and want to spend every minute with her. I never feel like I want time away from her. This feeling is so great that we had to negotiate with Kim's parents to be able to sleep in the same room when we visited. We decided that if we couldn't sleep together that we couldn't stay there.

It's crazy. Many people talk about their soul mates, love at first sight and other corny things, yet I find it hard to believe that anyone could feel the way that Kim and I do about each other. I absolutely adore her, need her, love her, look up to her and respect her more than any other human.

So though this is the day that society says that we should celebrate our relationship, our love for each other, my thought is that I want to spend everyday of my life recognizing and sharing experiences with the woman, who has changed my life and made me want to be the person that deserves her.

She is my one!

If You Only Knew How Fucking Mad You Make Me!

Kim and I wanted to get Jake's hair cut, so we did, with his permission. We cut it short all over, and it looks very cute.

I agreed to let Aribeth take him out of school today to attend Jayden's formal adoption. Jake wanted to go, and who are we to stand in his way?

As soon as Ari saw him, she tore him down. She did not like his haircut and the word skinhead may have been used though I am not certain of the company or context.

I honestly could punch her face in over and over and over, but that wouldn't help Jake and would only serve to keep Jake and I apart on important dates of his life at least while he is a minor. That has been proven and cannot be disputed.

I am venting for lack of anything else constructive that I can do. Punching Ari's stupid, opinionated face in would really serve to only hurt Jake. I won't do anything to hurt him if I can absolutley help it.

It sucks to share him with them. No one over there to protect him. I hear the gorey details and want to literally hurt someone, hurt them.

It feels like no one understands.

Fuck them!

Death By User Review

I've had a couple of rough weeks at work. I've encountered those customers, those rare customers who cannot be pleased despite my shit eating, ass kissing, humble pie choking demeanor.

One whose bathroom I remodeled, designed, torn to the studs, put back together in 3 weeks except for glass and counters, which cannot be measured for until everything is installed, held my over $6000 check for a $50 bathroom fan.

It was "leverage" to quote my customer.

They also dangled another job in front (carpet) of me and turned around and gave it to another company that they had zero experience with while I was on the first significant vacation that I have had in many, many years.

I had spent weeks trying to help them with their carpet.

Currently, I have a couple unhappy about their shoe mold (small quarter round) and the painting of it. They are also angry because my crew put stuff in their refrigerator, used a couple of their forks, used their microwave and used a portable fan.

Forget that it has been over 100 degrees everyday for weeks. Forget that it is impossible to keep ice in a cooler when it is this freaking hot. And lastly, forget that this couple turned off their air conditioner, and my guys dared to use a fan that they found.

People amaze me.

These people are currently not paying me, not allowing me to remedy their complaints and calling in at least 3 other contractors, I suppose to gather evidence against me.

Now I am not present for their bitchfest to these other contractors, so I have no way to address anything that these contractors might bring up as a concern.

Out of desperation to end this awfulness, I offered to refund them all of their money for the shoe mold, labor to install it and labor to paint it. Almost a $1000.

Last email I sent telling them about the refund of their money for the shoe mold along with reiterating my willingness to repair anything they were unhappy with and reminding them that they still have a 2 year installation warranty, the woman, who I can only assume is the most messed up, heartless human alive, responded by saying that I obviously knew the shoe mold was wrong since I had refunded the money.

With all of my years of therapy, I have come to assume that she has mommy issues and was horribly shamed as a child since she takes every opportunity to tear me down.

My Father in Law, Jerry, and truly one of the best men that I know, told me to keep my head and get my money. He is right, and I needed to hear it.

It is difficult to not take the emotional bait that I am daily taunted with. It is almost impossible to feel these people's disappointment in me when I was at their job every. single. day! I gave them my all and when we fell short was more than willing and happy to fix it and apologize for it and in generally acknowledge their immense disappointment.

I received an email today that I had a new user review on CitySearch, and I almost swallowed my tongue as I imagined what horrific things this horrible woman at possibly said about me and my company on line.

I read it with dread, but it turned out to be a customer that likes me and doesn't consider me the stupidest human alive.

There are sometimes in life that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, no matter the amount that you bend over and take it full on in the ass, there are going to be a few select people that cannot, will not forgive, forget, move on and accept the situation and the apology.

To my customer that left the positive review and all of my other customers who truly give me so much love and acknowledgement, thank you, thank you very much.

To those that make me grieve the decision to ever accept their money, I would like to be able to be the bigger person and just say, "well, that is sad for them and I hope they feel better soon."

Unfortunately, I don't think that in my blog I am that big, so to them, I say "fuck you and you were lucky that you gave your crappy job to me because no one else would consume the volume of shit that you have doled out and still fix your fucking issues."

I hope your floors fall apart at 2 years 1 day and that you call me, and I get to tell you that your warranty has expired by 1 fucking day.

THAT will be a damn good day!

The Lies That We Tell Ourselves

I'm watching 60 Minutes while Kim is editing photos, and I am also writing. The topic of the news program is about a man named, Greg Mortenson, who is an author and become somewhat of a cult figure amongst so many.

The story centers around Mr. Mortenson fabricating stories to drive his book sales, non profits and I suppose, as this story suggests, to line his pockets.

It is troubling.But it is not surprising.

Mr. Mortenson is lying to us, to his followers and to himself.

The segway to this entry is that what Greg Mortenson is doing is not so different than what we all do in some form or another every day, yet Mr. Mortenson is doing it on a much grander scale and for profit.

I think that generally as humans we put ourselves out there in a way so that we might show the best in ourselves or at the least the best that we want to believe we are.

The truth of this is often irrelevant. It is an easy lie to tell.

I am certainly guilty of this though in the past few years, I am trying to be exactly who I am and live my life whole heartedly thanks to therapy, my group, my beautiful wife & children and Brene Brown and perhaps a few others.

Last week I was faced with a customer being quite nasty towards me though I am certain that he would argue that he did nothing wrong. And maybe it wasn't wrong but it certainly was insulting.

I have done a great deal of thinking about this interaction with this customer where I made the choice to stand up for myself, set a boundary and most likely piss this guy off by doing so.

It has bothered me. It has consumed me. I am purging this through my writing. I am processing, which I find to be such a ridiculous term. I am doing what I can to see my part and move past it.

My conclusion is that though I may have created a situation for them to go to someone else to buy their carpet after I had totally rocked their bathroom remodel, I did not deserve to have my money held as "leverage" for a noisy bathroom fan that I was willing to replace.

They owed my over $6000

It was a $50 fan.

I would have done most anything to make them happy, and I did once they asked me (I am being generous by using the term asking) to replace it.

I would not and will not allow someone to tear me down, question my integrity and treat me with such disregard.

I stood up for myself. I spoke to him respectfully. I made my point. I stood my ground without yelling. I kicked ass. I really did and in a way that is new. It is the new, improved me. The me that wants to treat people in a way that reflects who I am, who I strive everyday to be.

I am certain that this man that chose to be pretty awful to me believes in his heart that this is my fault. I am to blame in his mind. He is the customer and always right. I am just the remodel lady that back talked him.

He is deceiving himself. The way that he treated me was not ok and I stood up to him.

Had I been in the wrong, I truly believe that I am in a place where I could acknowledge it, learn from it and find a way to do something different moving forward.

I am done lying to myself about who I am. I am really done!  As difficult as it may be to hear, I want to live my life really knowing who I am and be able to hear from others their experience of me.

Where Did Those People Go

I had to find a baby picture this week b/c our friends, Vanessa & Jessica, are throwing us a baby shower and apparently it is customary to find ridiculous pictures of yourself for everyone to pretend to ooooo and aaaahhhhh over.

I don't get it, but I'm sure that it is one of the many things that I don't get. The way families relate to one another is foreign to me, much in the same way that one might not understand chemistry or advanced mathmatics if they had never been introduced to them in some sort of educational setting.

I don't know what normal families do, and since my last blog, I don't think that I am really supposed to be writing about it.

However, since Kim and I are the only ones that see this blog, I have decided to risk my future prospects at a relationship with them to pursue my purging of an unpleasant childhood and in some respects adulthood as well.

Oh wait.......

So I sifted through one of the only photos albums that I have looking for the cutest picture that could possibly exist in the 50 pictures that I have from my childhood.

I came upon pictures of me, icecream on my face, sun dresses, playing in a birthday cake, hugging my grandparents. A story in pictures or a 1/4 of the story at least.

I found pictures of two very young people holding me, looking like they adore me. I stared blankly at my parents holding little, bitty me and they actually looked happy and so did I.

I missed them. I missed the people that they were in those pictures. Those people probably never really existed, and even if they did, I haven't seen them since I stared at the photos.

The only thought that I could really muster was, "Where did those people go?"

Where indeed.

Pamper Time

I have been sitting holding the tinyist diaper ever. It is so cute, and I am mesmerized and completely in love with the baby that my wife is carrying and the woman that is sacrificing so much so that we can share this miracle.

Kim, you are amazing.

This little diaper has baby Bert & Ernie characters adorning it and smells just like you dream a baby smells.

I am humbled by the whole experience. I can't wait for the journey of pregnancy, puking, scary bleeding, week counting, furniture shopping and the dread of a c section to be over and for the next phase of having TBNL sharing our home with us all to begin.

I love my family.

Kim, Jake, TBNL, Maggie, Lola, Fat Cat, Tuna, Mr Swimmy and Spaz, you guys are the most perfect family in the world, and I am incredibly blessed by your presense in my life.

Baby Boy Brad

My baby boy Brad likes to scratch and yawn and stretch. He loves YouTube and Facebook. He meticulously searches out articles on his favorite news stories and if he can locate a video that expands on the topic, he will watch it, all of it.

Today, sweet Brad yawned so loudly that I heard him over my music. Sweet and endearing. I wanted to go pat him on the back.

That is my little boy, my sweet, adorable man child. BRAD!

All of this would in actuality be so cute if Brad was actually my child or my nephew. Or 4!

He's not though. He is 28. Yes, that is in years, not dog years though he scratches like a hound.

He is grown, a fact that he often reminds me of. He is a man. Worst of all, he is my employee, at least until I return from vacation.

When I return from vacation, I am going to fire my baby boy. I am going to reveal to him that I have been monitoring his computer for the last 2 weeks, documenting and logging all of his useless activity so that I can fight him when he files unemployment.

I am going to crush him, most likely by grabbing his balls that he so loves to scratch and move around all day long, in my vice like grip.

Maybe I'll even use pliars.

Sweet dreams my sweet boy!

Facebook Is The Devil

Made the mistake of looking at my sister's profile. Big mistake. I'm an idiot.

She makes zero contact with me yet she seems all too excited to make contact with Ari. They talk, they hang out, they dance and worst of all Ari is encouraged to hang out with my niece and nephew. My sister is so happy that Ari loves her boy!

I am wretching in agony.

I'm sick with the reality. Sick that my sister trusts someone who has spoken so ill of my niece and nephew. Sick that there is so much ridiculous, fake trust between them.

I've hidden Ari's profile for this reason. Why do I look? Why can't I just not care?

What sort of glutton for punishment am I?

I can not reconcile all that transpires, mostly unspoken, between us. I am sick. I deserve better.

No matter how hard I try, I miss my family. I wish they could see me for who I am. I wish my family could see others for who they truly are.

I am so angry. I am so lost. I am incredibly changed by all of this. No matter what, nothing will ever be the same.

Love my wife, kids, in laws, friends, dogs and cats. Just want to get over it.

Tour de What the Fuck is Happening

Tour de France.

Here are my thoughts/frustration:

 I don't get it. I just don't.

The peleton is a mystery. The last day is a formality yet there are a number of sprint races going on that have nothing to do with the actual overall win.There are 40 kilometers of nothing, leisure riding really.

By the way, how far is a damn kilometer? I also don't understand the metric system despite my elementary school trying to cram it into my brain in 3rd grade so Americans could be more competitive with the rest of the world.

Then there is about 30 kilometers of something happening though I don't really know what and the end is 45 seconds of organizing, sprinting, highly charged announcing and finally the finish where the rider doesn't ride all the way through but pulls up at the end to sit up and prove that he can ride with no hands. All this while almost being nosed out by the 2nd place sprint finisher.

Evans WINS by a piece of spiky rubber dangling from his front tire! Spec-f'ing-tacular!

So exciting. It has been a great tour as reported by Kim, who love, love, loves it.

Kim is complaining in the background, "False advertising really pisses me off." She is so funny.

Anyway, the tour is over, and I no longer have to sit through it in order to not hurt Kim's feelings.

So I am celebrating the end of the tour. I'm not celebrating b/c of the drama or the amazing feats of the athletes. Though the crashes are fun, I don't celebrate the anticipation of the next tour.

I celebrate because the damn thing is over, and I get Kim back. It's been a long 2 weeks of missing my best friend and pretending that I sort of care about this race.

Day of Nothing

Sunday is one of the best days ever. I try to have no plans though that doesn't always work out. Today, I have no plans except to watch the American women win the World Cup.

Sunday is a day to catch up on my rest, do random chores that I need to get done but don't mind doing b/c I have no deadlines and to just spend time in the same house with my wonderful family.

I don't shower and sometimes I don't brush my teeth. Maybe that is gross but the great thing is that Kim still loves me despite my disgustingness.

In the past, I hoped to get invited to see my nephew's football game or hoped that my sister might invite me over for lunch. I have mostly given up on that. Mostly.

I feel incredibly happy. Kim is watching The Tour. Jake is doing his Jake things. TBNL is napping in her Momma's belly. Maggie and Lola just had breakfast. The cats are lounging on the porch. And I am finally beginning to write again.

I have worked hard to get here, and I fully intend to be here and be present.

Two Peas

Today Kim explained to my mother in law, I guess that's what I should call her though I have not yet checked with her about that nor am I sure that I should, the reason why I had not made the switch from the Blackberry to the IPhone faster.

You see, now, I love my IPhone. I would almost rather suffer death than to lose it or have to go back to my 4 pound Nokia or my very inefficient Blackberry. But before I made the change, I thought that I might have aneurism even considering a new phone.

The reason it took me so long..........I. hate. change. All change.

Deplore it. Loathe it.

Kim tells her this, and Jovette's reply is in the neighborhood of, "I think that you two were seperated at birth."

Very true, Jovette. I think that this is part of the reason that we get along so perfectly. I am the luckiest woman on Earth!

Sunday Revelations

I watched the USA women's soccer team make an incredible come back in the face of some awful calls by the refs and the clock working against them. Ten of them. Only ten b/c of a red card near the goal that shouldn't have been thrown.

A shoot out. A victory earned by working hard, believing in themselves, not giving up.

It made me goose bumpy to watch them celebrate.

In watching their win and jumping about the room high fiving Kim, I realized that I love team sports. I love the belongiing of it all. I love the comradary, the spirit. I love counting on other people and them counting on me. I love giving my all.

In this moment, this is when I discovered the reason why I was so devasted when Barb kicked me off of "her" team. That summer, all at the same time, was both the best and the worst of my life.

I was a team member. I was needed and counted on and supported while I wondered around wondering why Jessica and I hadn't worked.

Before the next season, Barb let me know in an email that I was not invited back.

Coward's way out.

I played and I played well, and I couldn't understand why Barb would kick me off. Her excuse just wasn't true. I had kept my batting average the entire season, and I had done well.

What I have learned from all of this is the difference between Barb and I is that I don't just play for myself, my glory, my agenda and Barb does.

Barb is not a team player.

I am a team player. I can't change that and now I know that I don't want to. It is one of the best things about me.

Come play with me, and I'm sure you will agree.

The Wolf Pack

Some people are in my wolf pack by way of choice. Some people are in my wolf pack because of obligation or maybe guilt. Some are people that I want to be a part of my pack. Others I couldn't care less about. (Kim will most certainly comment about this phrase.)

Bottom line is that relationships are very confusing to me, and though I work really hard at them, in the end, I always feel inadequate or like a let down or somehow not as loveable as someone else.

Monday Return to Blogging

My first blog in a very long time. My MySpace blog ended in disaster, a disaster of my making and an unexpected outting of thoughts that I honestly believed were private. Thoughts between me and my friends, who were there to witness my joys and my struggles.

Out of all of that has come a new life, a new beginning. So to catch everyone up, which thus far only includes me and probably Kim, I am married to the woman of my dreams. We are pregnant with our 2nd child, Jake being the first. We  have a goofy great dane named, Maggie, who at this very moment is sitting on our outdoor furniture exactly where she knows that she is not supposed to be. Lola is our little, compared to Maggie, orange Visla. Zoey, aka Fat Cat, and Luna, aka Tuna and Skinny Cat round out our little family. TBNL, the growing baby, is floating around in Kim's ever growing belly, which has begun to change and move about in the most bizarre ways.

So I am back in all the ways in which one can come back from the dead and return to a joyous life and as one of my group members encouraged me, "Write away. Write away!"

And that is exactly what I intend to do!