Soo many ideas, so little time...
That's what I keep telling myself through my insomnia fueled evenings. I've made some jewelry, painted a bit, even started writing again. The weather here is so bipolar that it's messing with my moods. I am happier when it's sunny. I'm not made for freezing cold weather.
Thankfully my youtube app on my ipad has kept me occupied. Documentaries on Elizabeth I, Mary I, and episodes of Supersizers have kept me amused while I have been hiding under my blanket for warmth. It's nice to have an escape sometimes. I've read The Mortal Instruments series (except for the recent addition) and The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare. Yes they are young adult, but I enjoy them never the less. I'm also in the middle of On This Day in Tudor History by Claire Ridgway. It's fascinating.
Tomorrow would be my mother's 56th birthday. Last year, she was in the nursing home. She couldn't eat much. I made her a bracelet with an orange butterfly on it. (Orange was her favorite color.) I felt bad that she wasn't able to wear it, but I put it in her jewelry box so she could wear it when she eventually came home.
I'm unsure what to feel; I'm sad yet somewhat at peace. I know wherever she is, she's happy. She is no longer in pain. Although I know she wanted to see all of her grandkids grow up. I will honor her in someway. She always made sure that we never forgot her birthday. I'll make empanadillas for her (or empanadas. I always called them the former growing up). I promised her I would make her some when she would be able to eat normally again. She liked when I cooked for her.
I was hoping to finish school this semester, but I have to put it off until summer and fall semester. Textbook prices are ridiculous and by the time I could afford them, I would be so behind. It was a gut wrenching decision, but I was not going to put my house or my kids in jeopardy for textbooks. I will finish my education. I owe it to myself to accomplish that.
Hopefully I can write happier things soon. I have all kinds of things I want to write about. It will just take some patience to put all my ideas into a cohesive path. And make more jewelry. When I feel that it's good enough, I might even start selling it. :)
19 February 2013
28 January 2013
A New Story in Westeros
"Dangerous Women" set in Westeros... (via the Huffington Post)
Just a quick post. George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series (otherwise known as "Game of Thrones") is going to release a novella set in Westeros. Click the link to read more about this new set of stories.
I personally am looking forward to it. And to "The Winds of Winter." Hopefully one will be published this year. I am going through withdrawals in new reading material. It's bad when your husband is telling the cats that mom needs new books because he's seen me read the current book ("The Wars of the Roses" by Alison Weir) for the umpteenth time.
Just a quick post. George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series (otherwise known as "Game of Thrones") is going to release a novella set in Westeros. Click the link to read more about this new set of stories.
I personally am looking forward to it. And to "The Winds of Winter." Hopefully one will be published this year. I am going through withdrawals in new reading material. It's bad when your husband is telling the cats that mom needs new books because he's seen me read the current book ("The Wars of the Roses" by Alison Weir) for the umpteenth time.
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| "I have never been nothing. I am blood of the dragon." |
30 September 2012
It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn
I apologize for the lack of posts. Certain things you can't just get over quickly. My mother's death still gets me at times. It is getting easier, but it still hurts.
I allowed myself to grieve while trying to go on with my life. While some may feel that I should just grieve and move on, it was something I really had no choice in. I had to maintain some sort of composure for my children. I allowed myself to fall apart when they couldn't see, but I knew they could tell mommy wasn't ok. They still tell me that they miss her, and I tell them that Grandma would want them to be happy. It takes their mind off it and they continue to try to drive me to the insane asylum. (I could use the vacation though.)
We have a new dog. We named him Beowulf after the Norse hero who slayed Grendel, Grendel's mother, and the dragon. (Yes, it probably makes me a nerd, but honestly I could care less.) He is teething and at times I think I am going to lose my mind. A few plants have been sacrificed to his teeth, but I know it won't be forever.
School has started back up again for me, which means there is more insanity. I had to re-take an algebra class. Hopefully I will do better this time. I'm also taking English History (YAY) and Adobe Flash. I have a new respect for animation artists. It is time consuming and sometimes a pain in the ass. But now I will have another skill to attach to my belt. My confidence has been lacking, only because I am unsure of myself. I keep telling myself that it's not ok to do this to myself, but I still do. A therapist I saw a few years back told me that I was the epitome of my own worst enemy. I am a perfectionist, and honestly I am rarely happy with what I do. It's something I deal with, which is probably one of the reasons that I have REALLY bad insomnia.
Today, I decided to stop listening to that nagging voice in my mind. She's not happy, but I can't beat myself up any more. I'm not perfect, and I probably never will be. But I can't keep trying to be something I'm not. It's not working for me obviously, and I have to just stop. I have to keep whatever sanity I have left, at least for the next few years.... ;)
I allowed myself to grieve while trying to go on with my life. While some may feel that I should just grieve and move on, it was something I really had no choice in. I had to maintain some sort of composure for my children. I allowed myself to fall apart when they couldn't see, but I knew they could tell mommy wasn't ok. They still tell me that they miss her, and I tell them that Grandma would want them to be happy. It takes their mind off it and they continue to try to drive me to the insane asylum. (I could use the vacation though.)
We have a new dog. We named him Beowulf after the Norse hero who slayed Grendel, Grendel's mother, and the dragon. (Yes, it probably makes me a nerd, but honestly I could care less.) He is teething and at times I think I am going to lose my mind. A few plants have been sacrificed to his teeth, but I know it won't be forever.
School has started back up again for me, which means there is more insanity. I had to re-take an algebra class. Hopefully I will do better this time. I'm also taking English History (YAY) and Adobe Flash. I have a new respect for animation artists. It is time consuming and sometimes a pain in the ass. But now I will have another skill to attach to my belt. My confidence has been lacking, only because I am unsure of myself. I keep telling myself that it's not ok to do this to myself, but I still do. A therapist I saw a few years back told me that I was the epitome of my own worst enemy. I am a perfectionist, and honestly I am rarely happy with what I do. It's something I deal with, which is probably one of the reasons that I have REALLY bad insomnia.
Today, I decided to stop listening to that nagging voice in my mind. She's not happy, but I can't beat myself up any more. I'm not perfect, and I probably never will be. But I can't keep trying to be something I'm not. It's not working for me obviously, and I have to just stop. I have to keep whatever sanity I have left, at least for the next few years.... ;)
30 June 2012
Some Things You Never Expect...
I have been so busy I haven't had time for much. My mother recently passed away after a long bout with her various illnesses. Her funeral was last Saturday. Nothing you say, nothing you do will ever prepare you for the loss of a parent. My mother suffered from several strokes, diabetes, end-stage renal disease, and ischemic colitis. My family took care of her as she was no longer able to care for herself. Some may ask why we did not have her in a facility. She was in a facility, but she exhausted her days. My fiancee and I are not medical professionals, so we got a crash course in certain areas. My mother did not want this for my family, but we had to take care of her. There was no way she would be able to do it on her own anymore. My mother was a very independent woman who until she was unable to speak was as stubborn as ever.
Watching your parent waste away from an illness is not something anyone can prepare you for. I watched my mother improve until she broke her hip. After that, everything went down like a waterfall. Between the hospital visits, the nursing home visits, she did not improve. When they sent her home, I was only given 24 hours to prepare. My mom kept crying and telling me that she didn't feel well. She went back and forth to the hospital because she was constantly sick. The nursing service that came out at first was great. The doctors kept sending her home, telling me she was stable. However she was not. I finally had to stop being polite and tell them to find out what was wrong with her. I told them that she could not come home until they did more tests to figure out why she was constantly so sick. They finally told us what was wrong, (ischemic colitis) and that it was too far gone for them to do anything about it. They recommended that she be put on hospice, and I took care of that the next day. She went back and forth about several things, like going back to a facility or staying home. She decided that she would stay here. The hospice was great. They were available at all hours of the day and night, and would answer any questions we had. If we needed them to come out, they did as soon as they could.
My mother had to stop dialysis treatments because they were no longer benefiting her. I tried to find answers as to how long it would be before her kidneys shut down. There is no definite answer; it depends on how strong the person was. My mother wasn't as strong as she was. Her pain levels had increased, and she was put on constant pain medication. Slowly she began to lose touch with reality, she lost her sight, her speech, and her ability to absorb nutrition. I began mentally shutting down, as I could not handle watching my mother like this any longer. I would go talk to her, but I will never truly know if she heard me or not. When they told us to stop using the feeding tube, I did not realize that it would be that fast. I knew you could only last so long before you would pass, but she passed the next day.
My son had an assembly at school, which I promised him I wouldn't miss. I went, took pictures, and came home. I brought my fiancee and I breakfast, and we sat and talked in the living room. He had checked on her before I left, and I was only gone for about an hour. I went in her room to tell her about my son's award. As soon as I walked in, I realized something wasn't right. I watched her chest, but there was no movement. I grabbed her hand, and there was no reaction. I put my head on her chest and I felt NOTHING. No breathing, no heartbeat. I immediately went to look for my fiancee, and screamed for him to come back in the house. He ran back and confirmed that she had passed.
I went into reaction mode. I could not think about anything except making the proper phone calls. I called the hospice to have them come out, and I called my sister. My fiancee went across the street to tell our neighbors, whom I have known since I was 6 years old. They came and sat with me until everyone started arriving. I could not go back in there, no matter how much I tried. The RN from hospice arrived, my sister arrived shortly after. The RN gave the time of death and made the proper phone calls. Everything felt surreal. I was walking around, speaking to people, answering questions, but nothing felt the same. I knew she was no longer suffering. I knew that the universe has a better place for her where she will no longer feel any pain.
Why am I telling you this? I am a far better writer than an orator. I needed to get this out so I can try and move on. My mother and I were two very different people. Throughout my life, I tried to make her proud of me. I was her creative child, she would tell me. When I was younger, I always thought it was a bad thing. She never understood they way I did things, and I never understood why she would get so upset about them. We had many falling outs through the years, but she was always there when I needed her. When her health was failing, I would take care of her. She would insist that she would do it herself, but I would have to remind her that she could not. Did she like it? No. As we both grew older, I think we had some semblance of understanding of each other. My therapist reminded me that my mother was set in her ways, and nothing I could do could change that. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to admit that. We both stopped trying to change each other and accepted who we were as people.
I know my mother would want me to be happy. I am quite sure she is happy where she is. I would like to think that she is on some cosmic beach, with her nails and feet done (she religious about getting her hands and feet done), with a bucket of KFC (she kept asking for it), with a order of garlic cheese bread (she wanted that too), with a large diet coke (it was her favorite).
My life is never going to be the same, but I know things will slowly get back to normal. The void that my mother left will never truly be filled, but I know that I have the love and support of my friends and family. Eventually I will stop crying. Eventually I will start to feel somewhat like myself again. She drove me to the brink of insanity at times, but she was my mom. No matter what I thought, no matter what I said, that fact never changed. And it never will.
Watching your parent waste away from an illness is not something anyone can prepare you for. I watched my mother improve until she broke her hip. After that, everything went down like a waterfall. Between the hospital visits, the nursing home visits, she did not improve. When they sent her home, I was only given 24 hours to prepare. My mom kept crying and telling me that she didn't feel well. She went back and forth to the hospital because she was constantly sick. The nursing service that came out at first was great. The doctors kept sending her home, telling me she was stable. However she was not. I finally had to stop being polite and tell them to find out what was wrong with her. I told them that she could not come home until they did more tests to figure out why she was constantly so sick. They finally told us what was wrong, (ischemic colitis) and that it was too far gone for them to do anything about it. They recommended that she be put on hospice, and I took care of that the next day. She went back and forth about several things, like going back to a facility or staying home. She decided that she would stay here. The hospice was great. They were available at all hours of the day and night, and would answer any questions we had. If we needed them to come out, they did as soon as they could.
My mother had to stop dialysis treatments because they were no longer benefiting her. I tried to find answers as to how long it would be before her kidneys shut down. There is no definite answer; it depends on how strong the person was. My mother wasn't as strong as she was. Her pain levels had increased, and she was put on constant pain medication. Slowly she began to lose touch with reality, she lost her sight, her speech, and her ability to absorb nutrition. I began mentally shutting down, as I could not handle watching my mother like this any longer. I would go talk to her, but I will never truly know if she heard me or not. When they told us to stop using the feeding tube, I did not realize that it would be that fast. I knew you could only last so long before you would pass, but she passed the next day.
My son had an assembly at school, which I promised him I wouldn't miss. I went, took pictures, and came home. I brought my fiancee and I breakfast, and we sat and talked in the living room. He had checked on her before I left, and I was only gone for about an hour. I went in her room to tell her about my son's award. As soon as I walked in, I realized something wasn't right. I watched her chest, but there was no movement. I grabbed her hand, and there was no reaction. I put my head on her chest and I felt NOTHING. No breathing, no heartbeat. I immediately went to look for my fiancee, and screamed for him to come back in the house. He ran back and confirmed that she had passed.
I went into reaction mode. I could not think about anything except making the proper phone calls. I called the hospice to have them come out, and I called my sister. My fiancee went across the street to tell our neighbors, whom I have known since I was 6 years old. They came and sat with me until everyone started arriving. I could not go back in there, no matter how much I tried. The RN from hospice arrived, my sister arrived shortly after. The RN gave the time of death and made the proper phone calls. Everything felt surreal. I was walking around, speaking to people, answering questions, but nothing felt the same. I knew she was no longer suffering. I knew that the universe has a better place for her where she will no longer feel any pain.
Why am I telling you this? I am a far better writer than an orator. I needed to get this out so I can try and move on. My mother and I were two very different people. Throughout my life, I tried to make her proud of me. I was her creative child, she would tell me. When I was younger, I always thought it was a bad thing. She never understood they way I did things, and I never understood why she would get so upset about them. We had many falling outs through the years, but she was always there when I needed her. When her health was failing, I would take care of her. She would insist that she would do it herself, but I would have to remind her that she could not. Did she like it? No. As we both grew older, I think we had some semblance of understanding of each other. My therapist reminded me that my mother was set in her ways, and nothing I could do could change that. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to admit that. We both stopped trying to change each other and accepted who we were as people.
I know my mother would want me to be happy. I am quite sure she is happy where she is. I would like to think that she is on some cosmic beach, with her nails and feet done (she religious about getting her hands and feet done), with a bucket of KFC (she kept asking for it), with a order of garlic cheese bread (she wanted that too), with a large diet coke (it was her favorite).
26 March 2012
A Brief Update...
Sorry for the lack of posts; life has been crazy. School started back up and I have to find a balance between the lives I have to keep an eye on and my own. School is my priority for myself. I want to be successful. I can't be that when I have to make sure everything else is done first. Perhaps I'm having one of those girl moments where I feel as if my life is not my own. There is compounding evidence to the fact, but there is not a lot of time right now to explain. *sigh*
I have plans to keep this blog up, as I have started writing again. What that is will be a secret until it is finished. Sorry, I want to keep one thing to myself right now.. :) I will be getting back into my jewelry making as well.
I hope everyone is well and I promise more in the future.. Until then, may the odds ever be in your favor...
(If you don't know where that is from, then you must be living under a rock.)
I have plans to keep this blog up, as I have started writing again. What that is will be a secret until it is finished. Sorry, I want to keep one thing to myself right now.. :) I will be getting back into my jewelry making as well.
I hope everyone is well and I promise more in the future.. Until then, may the odds ever be in your favor...
(If you don't know where that is from, then you must be living under a rock.)
01 January 2012
Adieu 2011
What can we say about 2011??
I suppose it could've been worse. It started out normal enough, ending in a dilemma no one could prepare for. Through all this, my family and friends were there for me even when I pushed them away. I am not one to ask for help; I will beat my head into a wall to fix the problem until it's fixed or there is nothing I can do. I have a support network that accepts my crazy and willful ways and for that I am grateful.
What did I learn?
Well I learned that my absolute hatred of math has been passed to my daughter, and to this day, I will never understand why I had to learn all that crap if I'm not going to ever use it.
I learned that despite what others may think about me, I know that in the eyes of my children, I am a superhero, playmate, chef, and world-renowned artist/photographer and I RULE THE WORLD! (well at least their world).
I learned that my personality may not always rub people the right way. I do the best I can to be diplomatic, but if you're an idiot, I will make you aware of it. The spread of stupidity must be stopped!!
I've also learned that no matter how much anyone tells me that I can only do so much, I will push myself to prove you wrong. I can't help it, it's my nature.
I learned through this recent crisis that you can forgive, but you also don't forget. You do what you have to do for family, but that doesn't mean the past didn't happen. We can move forward, but you have to remember the past or you will be doomed to repeat it.
I also learned that 18 hours in a truck with two kids is the ultimate test of patience and sanity. (Although once we were back in our normal setting, both patience and sanity gave me the finger and left.)
The main lesson I've learned is that no matter how hard I try, I will never be as perfect as I think I should be. The years of that ideal being driven in my head have only driven me to near breakdowns. Will I still try and be little miss perfect? Of course; I'm a woman. With magazines, television, and even the internet spewing ideals of womanly perfection, it's hard to ignore those. (But if the standards are the Kardashians, we're all in a world of hurt). I am who I am. I am stubborn, bitchy, emotional, selfish, and even downright heartless if I need to be. But I am also loving, caring, intelligent, artistic. Marilyn Monroe said it best:
Now, let's strive for a good 2012, shall we?
I suppose it could've been worse. It started out normal enough, ending in a dilemma no one could prepare for. Through all this, my family and friends were there for me even when I pushed them away. I am not one to ask for help; I will beat my head into a wall to fix the problem until it's fixed or there is nothing I can do. I have a support network that accepts my crazy and willful ways and for that I am grateful.
What did I learn?
Well I learned that my absolute hatred of math has been passed to my daughter, and to this day, I will never understand why I had to learn all that crap if I'm not going to ever use it.
I learned that despite what others may think about me, I know that in the eyes of my children, I am a superhero, playmate, chef, and world-renowned artist/photographer and I RULE THE WORLD! (well at least their world).
I learned that my personality may not always rub people the right way. I do the best I can to be diplomatic, but if you're an idiot, I will make you aware of it. The spread of stupidity must be stopped!!
I've also learned that no matter how much anyone tells me that I can only do so much, I will push myself to prove you wrong. I can't help it, it's my nature.
I learned through this recent crisis that you can forgive, but you also don't forget. You do what you have to do for family, but that doesn't mean the past didn't happen. We can move forward, but you have to remember the past or you will be doomed to repeat it.
I also learned that 18 hours in a truck with two kids is the ultimate test of patience and sanity. (Although once we were back in our normal setting, both patience and sanity gave me the finger and left.)
The main lesson I've learned is that no matter how hard I try, I will never be as perfect as I think I should be. The years of that ideal being driven in my head have only driven me to near breakdowns. Will I still try and be little miss perfect? Of course; I'm a woman. With magazines, television, and even the internet spewing ideals of womanly perfection, it's hard to ignore those. (But if the standards are the Kardashians, we're all in a world of hurt). I am who I am. I am stubborn, bitchy, emotional, selfish, and even downright heartless if I need to be. But I am also loving, caring, intelligent, artistic. Marilyn Monroe said it best:
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| Made by myself (I was bored) |
Now, let's strive for a good 2012, shall we?
07 November 2011
The Awesomeness That Is My Son
Dylan - Welsh in origin; God of the Seas. Born of the Goddess Arianrhod, he was forsaken by her, but accepted by his Uncle Math. As he was baptized, he immediately took to the water. Turning into a sea creature, he swam as well as any fish. They then called him Dylan, Son of the Wave. - via Wikipedia
If you know my son, I named him properly. Anything that has to do with water brings him out of his shell. Last night it was pouring rain here, and was happier than a tornado in a trailer park. (Yes, Cars reference. I have children.) He would run back and forth from the living room to his bedroom to watch the rain fall from the sky. Taking a bath has never been a fight. He would stay in there all day if I let him. Swimming? You have to drag him out of the pool. He has never shown any fear of the water since he was born. The only time he showed fear was when we took him to the beach for the first time. My fiancee took him to the water and we let him stay there until he was tired. He eventually came back up to us when we had to leave.
Why is my son awesome? Other than his love of everything that is water, he's autistic. You may ask why I would say that, and here's why. He has managed to overcome so many things in his short life so far. People told me that he may never speak. Well now he does. It's not a normal conversation, but I can talk to him and he responds most of the time. Is it ideal? No. However it's better than nothing. Taking him out in public used to be a nightmare. It was usually a roll of the dice whether he would behave or not. Now it's fine. Potty training? That was awful, I will not lie about it. My fiancee stepped in and helped, and now he's potty trained. He's still a picky eater (that's my fault. Genetics). He still prefers to keep to himself sometimes, but that's ok. Sometimes I want to keep to myself. He plays with his sister, and they have a close relationship. It's more of a "I love to hate you," but that's typical for siblings. (Unless you know about the relationship I have with my sister. Not something to base any type of relationship on. We agree to disagree on a nuclear level).
I have been thinking about this lately, as his birthday is coming up. I never imagined him reaching the ripe age of 9, let alone him surpassing everyone's expectations of him. I know he could rule the world if he really wanted to, but I think he would rather play Spider-man and watch Transformers all day. (At least for the moment). Some people have doubted his abilities and my own in raising him, to which I politely say this: Go 'eff yourself. I have been called the most awful names in the past. I have been told that I was just a bad parent and that's why he is the way he is. I have been told that I am too self-absorbed to do what I needed to do for my son. There are quite a few more, but let's try and keep the mood positive shall we?
Dylan is awesome despite what society may think about his ways of going about. He is a bright child who is affectionate, caring, and has an enormous love of pasta. I wouldn't change him for the world.
If you know my son, I named him properly. Anything that has to do with water brings him out of his shell. Last night it was pouring rain here, and was happier than a tornado in a trailer park. (Yes, Cars reference. I have children.) He would run back and forth from the living room to his bedroom to watch the rain fall from the sky. Taking a bath has never been a fight. He would stay in there all day if I let him. Swimming? You have to drag him out of the pool. He has never shown any fear of the water since he was born. The only time he showed fear was when we took him to the beach for the first time. My fiancee took him to the water and we let him stay there until he was tired. He eventually came back up to us when we had to leave.
Why is my son awesome? Other than his love of everything that is water, he's autistic. You may ask why I would say that, and here's why. He has managed to overcome so many things in his short life so far. People told me that he may never speak. Well now he does. It's not a normal conversation, but I can talk to him and he responds most of the time. Is it ideal? No. However it's better than nothing. Taking him out in public used to be a nightmare. It was usually a roll of the dice whether he would behave or not. Now it's fine. Potty training? That was awful, I will not lie about it. My fiancee stepped in and helped, and now he's potty trained. He's still a picky eater (that's my fault. Genetics). He still prefers to keep to himself sometimes, but that's ok. Sometimes I want to keep to myself. He plays with his sister, and they have a close relationship. It's more of a "I love to hate you," but that's typical for siblings. (Unless you know about the relationship I have with my sister. Not something to base any type of relationship on. We agree to disagree on a nuclear level).
I have been thinking about this lately, as his birthday is coming up. I never imagined him reaching the ripe age of 9, let alone him surpassing everyone's expectations of him. I know he could rule the world if he really wanted to, but I think he would rather play Spider-man and watch Transformers all day. (At least for the moment). Some people have doubted his abilities and my own in raising him, to which I politely say this: Go 'eff yourself. I have been called the most awful names in the past. I have been told that I was just a bad parent and that's why he is the way he is. I have been told that I am too self-absorbed to do what I needed to do for my son. There are quite a few more, but let's try and keep the mood positive shall we?
Dylan is awesome despite what society may think about his ways of going about. He is a bright child who is affectionate, caring, and has an enormous love of pasta. I wouldn't change him for the world.
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| October 2011 |
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