Today I am grateful for my home, my safe haven.

My daughter has spent the afternoon cleaning, organizing & rearranging her room.

My son has spent the afternoon playing video games & chillin' to his music.

Me, well I went to work and am now home sitting on my front porch watching my neighbors come & go.

I want to find a good long hammock stand to put on my front porch. Then I could spend the next few months peacefully swaying & relaxing.

This is year #2 of me forgetting to go to King Soopers & buy me two of the red plastic adirondak chairs. Now they are all gone for the season.

I will put it on my must do list for June 2016.

I will just continue to sit on my front steps until next summer.

I am immensely grateful for my home and the comfort & stability it provides my family.

I love when I am present enough to get lost in the connections and feelings. I had a beautiful morning lacing several different conversations together.

Until a month ago, I would have told you that I hate roses. Roses are what boring men choose to send to women that they don't care enough about to spend 10 more minutes looking at what the earth has to offer. Over the course of the past 30 years, I have been sent more red roses than any one woman needs in her life. I was clear that I hated roses!

Until a month ago, when I changed my mind. 

I fell in love with roses again because I can. I was introduced to some very beautiful and special roses. I love the freedom that "allows" me to change my mind. 

This morning while taking my daughter to school and she was talking about how heavy her brother's backpack is and that if he doesn't take some of the stuff out it will break and then her dad will have to spend more of his money to get a new one. She told me that her Grandma had sent her Dad money for school stuff and that she had wanted to get a backpack with kitten on it, but her Dad had told her that she didn't like kittens, so it wasn't a good idea. She told me that she had not spent all of her portion of the money, but her brother did. She really wanted that backpack.  

Then she told me about her conversation with her dad about the dress she wore to school yesterday. His response to her was, "but you don't like dresses."  Her response was, "well I like the four I just bought." 

I exhaled and said, "Yep, he really lives in a very black and white world. You are going to have to gently work with him all the time to remind him that you are allowed to change and grow." "Besides, you are way too young to be a crotchety old man at 13 years old."

You either like dogs or you like cats. You are either a dog person or a cat person. There is not room for you to like both. If you state you like or don't like something, you had better be prepared to never freakin' change your mind. 

You can't be a outdoorsy tom boy and a girlie girl. 

You can't love being loud around people and have a strong need for quiet and solitude. 

You can only have one favorite color.

YOU CAN'T....I sure heard that a lot. That and a chorus of "but last time you said".

Throughout my 16 years of marriage I was told that I was unable to make decision. That I changed my mind too much. That I was incapable. 

Five years into my divorce (recovery), I am understanding that I am very capable of making decisions, but because I wasn't allowed to make decisions in my own time and comfort and that I was forced too often to make quick decisions, I panicked. 

There was a big score board that showed each win and each failure. With the clock ticking and having to mentally prepare a smart & concise argument to support my decision, it seems that often I chose to go with what I thought he wanted to hear instead of what my gut told me. That always meant my argument was weak and riddled with holes. Days later, after having spent a few moments in my head, I would change my mind and my resolve would be absolute. 

He never snapped his fingers at me to tick off time that I was wasting trying to sort out my pro's and con's, but in my head I heard the snapping. I really wanted to be smart enough to make good fast decisions and it caused me great shame that I couldn't. 

Until I decided to leave him.

It was a pretty snap decision and I felt absolutely right about doing it. I knew I was dying each day that I stayed in his world. I felt quite literally like a fish out of water. I would try my very best to live the way he was most comfortable with, but I could not breathe. This doesn't mean I didn't second guess myself as each day got harder & messier, but I knew in my soul I needed to get out of my marriage to save myself.

I am trying not hear the snapping sound when I have to make decisions. I am changing the sound track in my head to sound more like a metronome and I have long associated a metronome with 4 count meditative breathing. 

I no longer feel shame for walking away from having to make a snap decisions.

I do not have to make snap decisions at anyone's demand anymore.

But I can if I need to. Let the Universe take note, I am making decisions daily with ease and confidence. Since I don't have to create the argument, deliver the debate and explain my damn self, it has become much easier to just decide. I now decide based on what I know and feel and if minutes, hours or days later I find that the decision no longer feels right, well then I sit with myself and figure out what my next step is. 

His world was and still is very black and white. He needs that structure for some reason, but that no longer applies to me. 

I will no longer allow my world to be defined by someone else's need to classify and categorize me.   

My favorite color is teal & orange & silver & gold! I am girlie & outdoorsy. I am an extrovert who needs a great deal of quiet to recharge.

I am only a dog lover though!

However, my children are moving between our worlds. My son is always telling me how he uses logic to rule his life. 

I just smile and send up a quick prayer that someday the logic will help him make sense of his colorful emotions. Even Spock had to come to terms with his duality and embrace his human emotional mother. 

Prosper as a verb: succeed in material terms, be financially successful. Or to flourish physically, grow strong and healthy. 
Synonyms: flourish, thrive, bloom and blossom. 

I hope my children flourish, thrive, bloom and blossom.

I hope my children allow themselves the space and time to explore this big ole world and I pray they remember to stop and smell the roses!

Some days are a big slap to the forehead.  It is astounding how much of my personal power I just give away. No one asking, no one standing with a hand out. Just me dishing it out blindly.

When I told my husband I wanted a divorce, he didn't move out. We shared a house for 10 long months. He wouldn't let me leave with the kids and he wouldn't grant me space. At our first court hearing the judge said I could move out and take the kids with me. I did. After all of the hoops and paperwork I was finally okay to move out. I was not however granted time and space to move out. I left the courthouse with my best friend and under the watchful eye of my husband who had a 9 millimeter gun stuck in his waistband, we grabbed what we could.

A year later, the judge granted me access to my belongings. Again, the system is such a mess. My ex had gone through everything and decided what was mine and what I could have. Four items that I had naively expected to be handed to me were my passport, my 9 millimeter, my 22 pistol and my bullets. Instead I was told they were somewhere, packed in the double garage full of boxes he had ready for me. Later that evening I found the 22 pistol and the bullets, but not the 9 millimeter or my passport.

Finding the gun was urgent as I had moved us into my girlfriends home and we now had a missing gun and a house with 6 children living in it. 

Every box was opened and every item was unwrapped and touched. So many boxes, but the next night the gun was found. In a zip lock baggie in pieces. My sorry ex husband had decided that the best way to protect his sweet ass was to disassemble the gun into all of it's many pieces. I was blessed that the man I was dating was able to put it back together and teach me how to put it back together. Gun found, fear of one of the kids finding it was over.

I did not however ever find my passport. I have since moved and opened and touched every item that remains in boxes and have never found my passport. 

This may not seem like a big deal to some of you, but there are a few items that mean a great deal to me. A driver's license is one of those items.  I was at the DMV on my 16th birthday to get my driver's license.  I couldn't wait for the freedom driving would provide me. The second item is a library card. Getting a library card is always one of the first things I do when I move to a new area. A library is a safe place to go and be. It is a place where you can sit, safely for hours and let your mind explore. The third item is a valid passport. I received my first passport at 20 and have had a valid one handy and ready ever since, until 2011 when my "disappeared." 

When my Dad was in Germany he became very sick twice. Both times I was moments away from purchasing a ticket to fly across the ocean to help him get back on his feet when he would tell me he had it under control. I not only had to have my passport valid, but as a stay at home mom, I had my children's passports updated in 2010 in case we had to go take care of my dad.

I was deemed a flight risk during the divorce and the Judge ordered that the children's passports were to be held in the office of my husband's lawyer. Again, the system is very lazy and no one made sure that ever happened. When I brought it to everyone's attention it was just shrugged off.

I have allowed this to be an irritant of mine for  4 years, instead of getting the photos, printing the paperwork and getting a new passport. Me, who has always prized my ability to say yes and go, let my life be put on hold by my need to hold onto my anger. 

I have had the ability to get a new passport for 4 years, but I didn't. I wanted my existing one. I wanted the stamps that show where I have been. I wanted him to do the right thing and suddenly find it.

Part of divorce is forgiving and letting go. Daily I work on forgiving a little more and letting a little more go. 

I had passport photos taken and will fill out the paperwork to get a new passport issued. This is a big step at letting go and taking control of my life again. Today, I want my freedom more than I want the comfort and justification of my anger.

Angel card: Wedding.

I hate this card. I hate it every time I pull it. I need a new meaning for this card.

I have zero interest in ever getting married again.

For me, marriage is a trap, a cage, a death.

I put the card back in the deck, reshuffled and fucking pulled it a second time!

If you just got engaged, let me know so I can understand why I pulled this twice.

Fabulous Super Moon night!

We had just a really great end of summer day. We went to the pool one final time, went to the trampoline jump place & grilled burgers.

Then we all wrote our wishes for the coming days and then sent them up in flames to the Universe!

My daughter called me on FaceTime & chatted with me for an hour while we wrote our our wish lists!

As we got ready for bed, my daughter & I ran out for a photo of the big bright full moon.

Beautiful day with truly beautiful girl! She just fills my life with love.

It is good to remind our children that they are artistic and creative. Creativity is for more than art class!

My son had a project to "do" a poster board about himself. 

Instead of just drawing on the poster board, he chose non-white poster board and cut his into the shape of a dinosaur. The little white strips are his bits of personal information about what he likes to eat and his favorite movies. 

To top it off, he chose a second sheet of poster board to create the contrasting skin on the dino. 

It will be interesting to hear about the reaction his creativity receives.  I hope it is positive. 

Can there be room in your heart to love me even if I am not the smartest woman in the world? Or if I never earn a degree? Or if I find high school math harder to figure out thirty years later than when I first learned it?

Can there be room in your heart to love me and space to get to know me?


Did I fail you by not showing you that love is not earned? Did I fail to tell you that love is best when there are no conditions tied to it. A mother's love is for all time, no matter what. 

There is so much you don't remember, so much you were too young to understand. I fear you have heard way too much from someone who is hurt and angry to see me for who I really am. 

As an insult last night, you stated that I don't love science, since I don't love graphing like you do. You implied you like science, like your dad. No room for me to love science too.  I sometimes forget how very narrowly you view the world. I wish you would apply your fact based knowledge and scientific methodology to really examine your perceptions of who I am. 

I love science and have been your science buddy since you were a toddler. I set up experiments for you all day. My favorite times were watching you explore music and sounds and water and dirt. Every day I tried to have something new for you to see and touch and feel, all while you sat in the safety of my lap twirling my hair or holding my hand as we took our walks.

I am the woman who bought you all of those huge science books and read them to you. The first time you heard the scientific names of animals, dinosaurs or plants was from my mouth. I sounded them out for you and then later we sounded them out together.

I am the woman who sat with you for four years trying to get you to read and then would give up and pull you up close to me and read you stories meant for older children to fill your imagination until you could read on your own. I am the body you curled up on while I tried to read books to fill my own brain. 

Not once did I tell you that you were not smart.  Not once ever, did I yell at you or belittle you for having no interest in something. I fostered your love of science into every day and lesson we had. 

I had hoped that I had taught you that everyone is special and everyone is smart and that everyone has something very important to teach you. Some days, for all of your "smarts", I am not sure you get how much you break my heart. You say mean things and then laugh and explain you were just kidding. Your dad did this to me too. I shared with him many times that words spoken can never be taken back and that I believed he meant what he said, he just knew it was mean so he tried to take it back by saying he was just joking. 

I grow tired of playing stupid to your father's genius. I am quite certain that even if I do earn a degree, it will not be in an area of any perceived worth.

I grow weary of hearing his derogatory remarks come out of your mouth at me.

I wish you could remember all of the years when he barely noticed you. You don't remember that I had to force him to do science with you and it never turned out well and you didn't really get to enjoy his brilliance because he would be a college instructor droning on in front of an audience. He was incapable of explaining the steps and then stepping back to let you attempt the experiment on your own. It was just easier and faster if he did everything and showed you.  That my dear child is not how you learn. You are a toucher, a feeler, a tinkerer, an engineer. 

Can there be room in your heart to love me if the only purpose I was put on this earth to fulfill was to be your mom? 

Can there be room in your heart to love me if my greatest achievement ever was only to raise you and your sister? 

Of all of the things I have done, places I have visited, jobs I have held, the two of you are what I put every ounce of my soul into. I may never have a piece of paper that declares I am smart. I may never make $6,000.00 a month. I may never have a fancy title on my business card, but all that I am and all that makes me so very special is inside you. 

I have brought you places where I knew you could experience new ways of thinking and force you to wonder and imagine. I have brought you to the door of every bit of knowledge, even when I could not enter the room with you. I have carried you to the smartest people I could find and watched as you walked off with them talking their ears off. I have never let my lack of knowledge hold you back.  

Your love of reading, music, science, art and science were built from my love of you and me wanting to share this whole big ole' world with you. 

Each time you think of just the right song for what you are doing, you are pulling from a part of me. I have always known the right music to create a feeling. 
Each time you read or hear a phrase that makes you sit back and taste the sweetness or eloquence of the wording, you are pulling from a part of me. I love finding work by an author that really knows how to express themselves.
Each time you lose yourself in book for an afternoon, it is because you grew up making forts from all of the books I was currently reading and that sat on every flat surface in our house. 

Each time you push for the independence you so rightly feel is yours for the taking, I salute you and remember when you did this as an infant, a toddler and again as you left preschool. I am not a stranger to your need to do it on your own. I have sat off to the side and watched this behavior since you were born. I was always within hearing distance and my full attention was always on where you were and what your next step was. I never wanted you having to find me to be an additional irritant when you were in the middle of your next breakthrough. I have always been right on hand. All you had to do was look up and your eyes would tell me you were about to give up. 

You weren't mean back then to me. You didn't feel you had to be smarter than me to make yourself feel better. Back then you just wanted to accomplish it on your own with as little assistance from me as possible. You didn't feel the need to be superior to me back then. You didn't feel the need to hurt me back then.

I am not certain if you will ever be able to forgive me for breaking up your happy home. You will probably never know that the best thing I ever did was leave your dad. It forced him to become a dad to you.

I am not certain you will ever be able to stand back and acknowledge that you and I are on similar paths with the same family of demons. I had to break free because all I heard was that I was not enough, not as good, not right, too this and not enough that. Living life being made to feel that you are not right is painful. I wonder if you feel the same way?

Oh my sweet child, I need you to know that you are very worthy. The best of everything I am and everything I have learned is inside you.

I pray you will meet friends along your way that help you to understand that all that matters is you, not what you own, not where you live, not where you went to college, not how much money you make.  I pray that your life is filled with strong feminist women and emotional men who show you that you are flawed and fabulous and that you can put down your need to judge everyone around you because you are enough, just as you are, you are worthy of achieving every dream you have ever whispered up to the full moon or on a birthday candle. 

I can tell you that I am so happy to be free. I have found my own group of friends who know my worth and help me on my weak days to remember I have so much to offer to the world. I have friends who remind me that I am worthy. That I am smart. That I am able to do anything I choose with ease. They remind me that I have already accomplished so much to get to this point. I hope that you get to know the feeling of having people understand you. 

My old life was full of explaining myself and then looking into dead, judgmental eyes that could not understand any bit of what I had said or felt. That is a very rare experience for me now. When I speak and connect with people out here in the real world, they are nodding their heads and agreeing and letting me know that the connection has been made. They have felt what I am feeling or can imagine what I am describing. 

There is more than one path to success. I need for you to know this because as my child, you are not going to pick the easy road. I imagine you and I will be on this bumpy path for a long while as you figure out that you have to embrace the whole you, to find true happiness. I wish being smart was the way to great success, but it is not. No one likes being with a know-it-all. My only source of comfort is that I am certain you have in you enough of me, to help people see that you are so much more. I imagine you will find your clarity and purpose once you accept and utilize both your head and your heart.  

Can you reach back and remember when your feelings of me were your own, before the divorce, before the dark ugliness was allowed to go unchecked. Before you felt you had to choose. Before I had to be wrong to his right? 

I am far from perfect and have not hid my mistakes from you. As your mother, I know you need to see that life is not fair and that people are not fair. While I wish it didn't happen so often, I need for you to see me cry. I need for you to know that crying is not weakness, it is being present in a moment. You my son, are a big feeler, and my job is to be the voice in your head that reminds you that life is better when you feel the full spectrum of feelings. Feel the bad feelings with as much attention as riding through the highs of joy!  Don't cheat yourself out of being present in each moment. This is what will draw people to you and make them fall in love with you. You have in you the greatness of a leader, not because of your perceived intelligence, but because of your ability to connect with people. 

Can you start taking the small steps to be your own man and can you choose to be a good man, a kind man? 

Can you make room for me in your heart and learn to draw strength from my love and belief in you? I promise I am strong enough to love you through these very difficult times.  

I hope you can find a place for me in your heart, where it is alright for me to just be me.

I have waited all summer for school to start back so I can get back into the routines that I need to focus on work and to write. Today is the first day of school for my kids! 

My son starts high school today.  I dropped him off and promptly started tearing up. OMG it really feels like just yesterday that they handed him to me and he was 6 pounds and some ounces of warmth. My constant companion for 11 years. I remember his arms stretched up reaching for me to pick him up again. He was always in my arms, snuggled in my lap or curled up next to me. Today marks that our time living together and hanging out on the couch daily is drawing to a close. 14 1/2 incredible years full of first and I am still so grateful everyday that I had the opportunity to be a mom! Without a doubt, being a mom is the greatest thing I have ever done in my life. 

I am so excited to hear how their first day of school went!

This is a very strong positive reading for the coming year. I am very excited that I am making this happen!

Last week my ex texted to see what day would be good for us to meet with the school and have our daughter present her presentation on why she should be allowed to stay in school after her "gang" incident at the end of the school year. 

I asked how much work she had done at his house and let him know she hadn't done any of the presentation at my house. He said she was mostly done. When I asked her an hour later, she said she hadn't done any of it. Later that night she and I sat down and looked at the journaling we had done this summer and we came up with thoughts to be used in the presentation she would create. We made photo copies that she could take back to her dads to combine with what they would create. 

Turns out he didn't let her use anything we had done together, nothing. She was not happy that he had made such a big decision on what was supposed to be her presentation. But time was short and she had to get it completed. I asked if he could send me a copy of the final presentation so I would know what she was saying before we stood in front of the group. That didn't happen. So she didn't get to really read through it and get comfortable with it in the day prior to the meeting. 

The night before she picked out two outfits she would be comfortable in. One was basket ball shorts and a t-shirt and the other was a ripped up tight pair of jeans and a short t-shirt. She ultimately chose the basket ball shorts and t-shirt. We went to sleep and surprisingly, we both slept. 

Up bright and early the next day to get my son to High School Freshman Orientation, then to the middle school. When my ex arrived, our daughter asked him to see the stuff she had laid out for him to bring. He only had half of it. He brought only what he thought she had laid out. Anyone who knows my girl, knows she is very organized and creates detailed to do list and always gets her stuff packed and ready. The journal she did with the counselor this summer was missing. She started to stress and calmed herself down. As adults this would throw most of us off prior to a meeting. It sucks when you realize you don't have everything you need or prepared. 

But she shook it off. 

Then he turned to her and started to say something and stopped himself. I felt myself inhale and hold my breath waiting for the fight to start. 

A minute later, he turned to her and asked her what she was thinking wearing the outfit she had on. I felt it with her, the shame of having been told you fucked up. She started telling him that she didn't have any nice clothes, that she didn't have any other clothes. He was upset that the t-shirt had skulls on it, day of the dead skulls. Her face was red and she was crying and she walked away to go to the bathroom. 

I stood there for a second unsure what to do. I knew where his anger would turn next and it did. How could I let her show up looking like that. There are skulls on the damn shirt. 

I told him that she picked out her outfit and it was fine. He said I should have guided her to a more appropriate outfit. I remembered I don't have to listen to his bullshit anymore and I walked away from him to the bathroom and just hugged her while she cried and vented. Then we washed her face and went out. 

Eighty percent of the time I have closure and visualize my ex surrounded by loving white light and happiness. I feel the peace it brings my body. I want him happy and I forgive him for what he did to me and I forgive him for what he made me feel. Eighty percent of the time I am at peace with him and other than the guilt I feel for leaving and changing everyone's life, I have moved from hate and anger and fear to peace and closure. However, several times a month he has to make everything so damn hard and he has to hurt me or one of the kids. 

I had spent the 24 hours prior and the morning of getting her pumped up for her presentation. Asking questions to get her thinking about what she wanted to express. With a few words, he undid so much forward motion. 

Imagine being a grown up having someone challenge and mess with you before an important event. Most of us can't rebound quick enough as grown ups. 

The one request I have made to each of the counselors my kids have had over the past 5 years was that they teach the kids how to set boundaries with my ex. How to stand up firm to his need to dominate every choice and thought. How to feel comfortable stating their needs and desires to someone who is going to demand logical explanation and who will argue and tell you that you are wrong. They all just look at me like I have lost my mind. Why are we sending them to professionals if no one will help them learn to set boundaries to protect themselves? 

They will lose touch with the feelings their gut provides them. They will start to doubt their ability to make decisions. They will doubt themselves. They will lose trust in knowing who they are. They will think they are broken. 

They will be told that they are being unreasonable and over emotional and too sensitive. 

It was very difficult to see my daughter get messed with. 

The school didn't expect her to come back after two months as a compliant barbie doll, in a dress of pink with pearls. 

That was never the point. He is an adult and knew what he was doing to her was wrong. There was no way to change what she had on 3 minutes before her presentation. He knew it would only stress her out and upset her.  He has to know her, right? And he did said it anyway, just to be mean. 

She did really, really good bouncing back from two big problems before her presentation. I am very proud of her. 

Her presentation was fine, but completely missing the element of emotion and feeling that what she and I worked on could have added to round out the facts and nothing but the facts. But it was concise and effectively done in boring government power point. No images, no expressive font, no color. All dad, no mom. 

On the way back home she had a great deal of emotion to vent. 

Then she said, "I can't wait until I am grown up and can get away and be me." I almost stopped the car, but I didn't want to destroy the moment. I looked at her in the rear view mirror and told her I knew how she felt and that was why I had to leave. I just wanted to be me. I still just want to be me, without someone telling me I am wrong or bad, or stupid. We don't talk a lot about why her dad and I got divorced, but in every example she vented, I saw myself and 16 years with her dad flashing before my eyes. She said she hates how he never apologizes when he is wrong. She said she hates how he doesn't hear her and how he gets so mad when she changes her mind. She went on and on and she was preachin' to the choir. I was reading to start shouting "Amen" and raising my hands up to the Holy Spirit. 

I didn't start the hallelujah chorus, but I did tell her that she has the power to be herself now and that she is strong enough to stand up to anyone, anytime.  

Divorce moved me 80 percent of the way to freedom, but it left my kids struggling with the same issues that forced me to leave. I got mostly free. My kids didn't. I say this a lot, but it is heavy in my heart and words don't do it justice. Divorce only gets the adult out, there is nothing in place to protect the children. 

I had hoped that if I left, I could break the cycle of abuse.That they would see me struggle and grow and heal and learn from my mistakes. It is hard to watch the abuse continue and know that breaking that cycle now rest in my children's tiny little hands. I want to see them learn faster than me. I want to see them stand firmer than me. Even when my son drives me crazy with his verbal explosion of unhappiness, I love that he isn't swallowing his words, yet. 

I want to be a good role model of speaking my truth and living my life true to myself. I want them to grow up believing that they are worth it. Worth the fight. That they matter and that they should never just give up and that it is not their job to conform to make other's happy.

It is hard to get closure when the wounds get ripped open so often. 

 Mass Email Post from Danielle LaPorte on Tuesday July 28, 2015

"Do you know the story of the man who was hitting himself over the head with a hammer? “Why do you keep hitting yourself with that hammer?” a shocked passerby asked him. “Because,” the man replied, “it’s going to feel so good when I stop.”

Examine the evidence. You keep fighting the same fight. You’re losing sleep. You’re sick of hearing yourself complain about the same damn things over and over again (yammer, hammer, hammer). Clearly, wrestling isn’t getting you closer to free. It’s quite possible that…you have no fight left in you."

"When you stop struggling to make something go the way you’ve wanted it to, you shift the energy grid of our life. Facing the facts is liberating (even though it can be wrenching) — and with that truth comes a major power surge.

When you’re done fighting, you’re.done.fighting. It’s a bittersweet relief. Focus on the sweet."

"When you have no fight left in you, you get to stop fighting. This defeat can be a major victory."

To read the entire article by Danielle LaPorte, click here. 

I am the man with the hammer hitting my head over and over again.

The past three weeks have been really difficult for me. My kids have been gone with their dad on his vacation time and this throws me for a curve ever summer and every Christmas. I miss them and the energy they create in my home.

When I am overwhelmed, I go inward, get quiet, and think.

My turning inward sent my partner into a tailspin. I played small at home to keep arguments to a minimum and tried to keep the energy around me calm, but honestly my irritation was instant.  I didn't want to spend the time sharing my thoughts and feelings with my partner. I just wanted to be alone and sleep. I didn't want to talk about my feelings or be smothered with his. I didn't want to share my hurt and fear. 

I didn't want to have conversations. I just wanted to be quiet and let the storm pass and not open any more cans of worms. I didn't want to have conversations with my friends either. When you are starting over or following your dreams, there can be some tender not firmly rooted times when you need to just keep your mouth shut and your thoughts to yourself. Sometimes while you are sowing your dreams, you have to keep it all in and protected. 

I didn't want to have relationship conversations with my partner because they always feel like I have to explain who I am and what I want and what I am going through.  It makes me feel very selfish. Telling your partner that they are third on this list is hard. I chose me and I chose my kids and I can squeeze you in when time permits. Sounds mean and bitchy, and if I really was mean and bitchy I would just come out and say it. Instead I try to soften the words.

Or it somehow appears like I am asking for help and I am not. I don't want to have these conversations because I don't have time for the fall out, the possible drama, and hurt & tender feelings. It sucks to keep having to tell someone you don't want their help.  I have said it many times but I continue to work on speaking my truth. I have decades of swallowing the words and feelings I don't think I can share because I don't want to hurt the people I love. 

Instead, I hurt myself. 

My partner is a good man who is kind and wants to help, to fix my problems, to rescue me. 

The problem is I don't want to be helped, don't need anyone to fix my problems and sure as shit don't want to be rescued. I don't want to be treated as fragile and incapable. 

I am recognizing that when I have big lapses between writing, it is because I don't feel I should write what is going on in my life or in my heart or in my head, because it will hurt someone else.  So I turn these conversations around inside my head and swallow them down. Then I lay in bed all night replaying the conversations. My kids have been gone for two weeks and I have not written more than twice. 

My two kid free weeks were filled with words I didn't want to speak and didn't want to commit to paper. Words with consequences.

My biggest fear is becoming the mom, Bobby, from the movie "Wild" and being told I have a life ending disease and that I only have a few months left to live and realizing I never put myself first, even though I planned to as soon as I could without fucking up anyone else's life. And then fade to black, my time here is up and it is all over.   If I found out I was dying next week, I would be a be ole mess of regret for the things I didn't make a priority to do and to say. And yet, here I sit at almost 44 years old, patiently putting my self last.

I have been lying to myself like so many mother's, that I will do all of things I wanted to do and be who I really wanted to be when it is convenient for everybody, aka, when my kids grow up and leave the nest. But the truth is there is never going to be a good or easy time for me to turn everyone's world upside down. 

My truth is I want to be alone, to discover who I am when I no longer have to worry about how I might possibly impact those I love. When I am in a relationship I swallow down my fears too often and lose myself. I want to write without fear of my words hurting those I love. I want to spend my days writing and walking away from the computer for a bit and then coming back and writing the rest of the day away. Without hurting anyone's feelings. Without getting irritated that my partner is driving me crazy and being very distracting. Without having to be the bitch again and asking him to sit down and be quiet or go downstairs and watch tv. I am just so tired of being angry.

I have had a boy friend or husband for most of the past 31 years. That is 11,315 of my 16,060 days of my days on this earth spent not being focused on me. I started dating at 12 and while there has been months here or there when I was on my own, I was still out there as part of the swarm, searching and waiting for my soul mate. What lead me to leave my comfy marriage of 16 years was realizing the best part of my marriage was that for 10 of the 16 years my husband was gone Monday through Friday. I just wanted the kids. I just didn't believe I could do it on my own. 

I left my marriage, but like most newly divorced people, I tried to recreate the only relationship model I know. I tried to recreate a marriage when I know down deep in my soul this is not where I want to be. I am allowing instead of creating. A creature of habit, I have done the only thing I know, which is to be in a relationship. I know how to be part of team, but the team has never been Team Melissa. So, 5 years out of my marriage and I am all but married again and miserable.

No, not miserable. That is isn't correct. Focusing on everyone and everything but myself. Miserable in my internal struggle. Fighting myself for again choosing the easy comfortable path instead of pushing through my fears and intentionally creating the life I imagine when I lay in bed curled up behind my lover, snuggled up and safe. I want the comfort and the scary lonely space.

I chose a way better partner for myself this time, but the fact is I chose a life partner again. I fell into a relationship and instead of keeping separate households and just enjoying each other when we didn't have our kids, I didn't stand firm against the blending of our families. My anger started when I allowed them to move in because that would be easier on everyone even though it is not what I wanted. 

My partner keeps asking me why I am so angry?  It breaks my heart to seem him hurting so much. I am angry because I want to be alone. I am angry because I don't want to hurt anyone or make life messy or confusing. I am angry because I am not living my truth. 

I am angry because I don't want to upset the man I love. How do you explain to someone that you love them, but you are either leaving now or next year at best. Worse, how do you keep enjoying the comfort of the man you love when you know you will never fully commit to him. I am tired of my aversion to discussing marriage being funny. I love him deeply and completely, but I don't want to be his wife. 

I am angry because I am disappointed that I can't stay focused on what matters to me and what I want to do with my life. 

I am angry because I have to correct or right what I have wronged, again. Round two of sending everyone's lives into chaos. 

I am angry because I fought so hard to break free and I willingly walked right back in to a damn cage again. 

I am letting go. I know it is not going to be an instant fix of happiness, but it is the first step towards living the life I am dreaming of.

I had another really wonderful day at work, plenty to do and they assume the best of me, that I can do whatever they ask. 

I have had to take a few moments here and there and steady myself and to whisper quietly from my heart to my head that I can do everything and anything they ask. This job fits so well with who I am, that I can't believe I didn't find this earlier. My solace is that I did in fact find it. I am here now.  Present & ready to start my new career.

I have just arrived home and drove the final mile listening to Barbara singing "Papa, Can You Hear Me" from my i-phone. 

Tonight is just one of those emotional nights when I miss my dad a lot. I couldn't stop the tears on the last bit of the trip home. He was a very mushy emotional guy. Tonight I would have called him to tell him about how happy I am at my new job. He would have listened as I bounced from subject to subject. My work day was fabulous. My evening was rough.

Tonight was Girl Scout night. 

I got there a little late, so they had already started. I said my hello's to the mom's sitting chatting upstairs and made my way down to where the girls were. I stood four foot away from my ex and listened to their leader explain what they needed to accomplish tonight. He is always standing there. Stern & attentive & ready to point out to everyone that he will be at the event & that he is a judge at the event. He looms over the room. I just can't breathe around him. I always feel so sick. 

These are the moments I hear him in my head and he is never kind to me. Do I stand still and not speak or draw attention to myself. Is he going to correct me if I say something wrong? Is he going to start quoting Girl Scout regulations and singing songs that I never took the time to learn? 

I waited until I had heard what the plan was and I walked past him and went back upstairs. I wanted to escape. I was debating just walking on out. I felt very unneeded and unwanted. Instead, I walked over to the mom's at the table upstairs and sat down. They graciously let me sit and join in on their silly conversations about school supplies and their older children wanting driver's licenses. It was very nice and soothing. I felt normal again. 

I would love to be involved and helping their leader, but not under his gaze. Not with him following behind me redoing everything I touch. 

My plan is to push myself just a little bit each meeting to see if I can forget he is looming and watching. It just isn't me to not help and be involved, but when I get involved in other areas of my kids lives, it doesn't go well. Words he says around the kids make their way back to me. 

I believe there will be a day when I will feel so at peace that I just don't even notice him. Unfortunately, I still carry so much guilt for creating my current reality. If I had stayed, just made do, just settled, just put my head down and continued to plow forward I would get to be a part of everything as he had little interest in me or the kids. This is still a hard pill to swallow. 

My freedom cost me tucking in my children each night. I made this happen. I created my reality.

When I got out of my car and was walking up to the house, I saw what looked like a piece of trash, possibly a napkin that had become stuck in my flower bed. As I got closer I notice that it wasn't trash, but a lily I hadn't even noticed growing on very thin stalk and was laying almost buried in the mess of greens the iris's and day lilies put up when they bloomed weeks ago. I decided to bring it inside and enjoy it. 

As awful as being near him was, I got to put my arms around both of my kids and pull them into my face and smell them and tell them I love them. I will put myself back in this awful head space again next week just for 5 minutes of time with my kids. 

Tonight I would be telling my dad that I miss my kids so much. In the past few years, when I would make these late night phone calls, my dad would get real fired up and tell me that he was glad I left my sorry worthless ex and then he would get real calm and tell me that my kids love me and miss me too. 

Tonight I miss my kids and I miss my dad. 

If you had told me three months ago, or even two years ago that life didn't have to be so freakin' hard, I would not have believed you. I still keep pinching myself to make sure this isn't a dream inside a dream. 

Far more often than not, life has been very hard for me. There has been far more lack than plenty.

This is what I grew up knowing. There was mostly enough, mostly when needed, but there was never plenty. There was never ease.

That being said, I grew up knowing how hard my parents worked for every thing we had. 

This morning I listened to one designer describing the feel of the new Salon that this floral arrangement will showcase.  From big hands wafting words like, "Jet-son like, modern, and organic," the vessel was selected and a creation was brought to life. 

This is how my morning started.  I leaned back in my chair and giggled. This is what I have dreamed of being a part of and never knew existed.

My boss then asked me to start pulling together a draft proposal for a non-profit benefit. Linens and freakin' sequins baby!  High end glitter! Table lines of cream and gold glitter chevrons.  

This will be a tented event. A tented event for 280 people. The entrance will be flanked with gorgeous white planters with live greenery.

Then my boss showed me the chandelier that will be center stage. 

There will be metallic & glass balls and sequin table linens of silver and gold. 

I am sitting at work on Pinterest searching for images to show the client how the designer wants the event to feel.

It is truly crazy when you get a taste of what your life could have been like if you had figured out you are an artist, a feeler, a creater, a dream weaver. 

This is the vision of the designer for the Salon. The sofa's at the salon are a spring green.  The smaller arrangements will go in areas around the reception area. 

This center piece is over 5 foot tall and easily 5 foot wide from tip to tip! 

Last week I saw and responded to an employment add on Craigslist for a marketing & office admin position.  Today was the much anticipated interview.

I came home after the interview light as a feather & excited.  My plan was to go out tonight to get a note card to let them know how much I appreciated the fabulous interview.  Even if I didn't get the job, the interview had left me jazzed & confident. It has been a very long time since I felt the time slowing, crispness of being in the perfect moment. This interview had a very special feeling to it, an easiness, a flow.

The feeling eased me into a peaceful state that declares I am on the right path. That I am taking the right steps & risks (and getting back up after being knocked down). I can with great clarity envision working with these people and I see myself being very proud of this company.  I really like being part of something.  I like being able to feel that what I am doing each day is helping my team. 

Of course I missed the phone call from them this afternoon. 

I had to do a big ole exhale before calling them back. My mind was trying to figure out what had gone wrong. It was too soon for them to call. They still have interviews this afternoon and Thursday. Maybe, just maybe I was going to be asked to come back for a second interview. Instead, I was told that they wanted to offer me the job. 

I had to sit down, and boy was I glad I had been hovering near my desk chair. 

Then Maria, the Operations Manager told me such sweet things, that I was an excellent & perfect match, that she and the owner had felt an instant connection with me, that I interviewed so confident that I could do the job and that they felt certain that my enthusiasm would help me as I have no industry experience. Between watching Glee reruns of their production of West Side Story and my deep love for the Sound of Music, I have quite the love story for Maria happening in my head!  Oh and they want me to start this week.  

Starting Thursday, I will be working at a floral design event company here in the Springs who has a very impressive client list of the premier locations to host a wedding, corporate or social event!  I am so excited to get to learn about & be part of a creative industry! I am excited to have found a great match for my personality and love of marketing & social media!  

Plus, they said one of the perks of working for a florist is that I get to bring home some of the left over flowers after an event. I could get used to having fresh flowers in my house!

Sending a big ole' loud smacking thank you kiss out to the Universe and to each of you who lifted me up this past week!  

"There's a critical difference between 'putting food on the table', and nourishing your life."  Danielle LaPorte

I have made the commitment to myself to nourish my life everyday. There have been far too many years of just putting food on my table. I am ready for what I "do" and "who I am" all day to fill my soul as much as how I choose to spend my free time. 

I had a great interview today with an event design & floral company. The moment I read their ad on craigslist, I wanted the job. The ad read like colors & flowers & fabric. Walking into the building I wanted the job even more. Pretty things, well placed things, flowers, sparkles and people who use words like foam core, stage props, seamstress, textures & patterns.  I want this to be the vocabulary of my days. I want to be a part of this team!  

I want the people I spend all day to have vision & dreams & I want to see how they bring them to life!  

I have read that you are the sum of the small handful of people you surround yourself with each day.  I felt the pop & sizzle & whoosh when they toured me around the building. It was like being at Santa's Workshop, magic happening in every room.

I want to join this mystical gypsy family who create new experiences for life's celebrations!

I have whispered my prayer out into the breeze to be carried out for the Universe to hear. 

Boy did I have a crazy beautiful Saturday.  

I had a 10 mile hike planned with our Boy Scout Troop as we are working (my son says forcing) on the Hiking Merit Badge.  The boys chose this hike which is a beautiful hike, but it is all up hill.  We chose to hike 5 miles up and then do the return five miles down.

About a mile into the hike, I couldn't breathe.  This is prime allergy season for me, so I had already used my asthma inhaler as a preventative measure.  I have walked this trail numerous times without any problems.  The boys are way faster hikers than I am, but I finally had to stop and take a break. My pack felt like it had 100 pounds in it. I felt dizzy, nauseous, heartburn, and was sweating profusely. Sitting down felt better than standing up. 

Because we had several other parents on this hike, I was able to be honest with myself and decide that I did not need to push myself farther up the mountain.  I thought I was experiencing Altitude Sickness and the cure for that is to get back to lower levels.  It did cross my mind that I really wasn't all that high up to be experiencing altitude sickness, but that is what the symptoms said to me.  I didn't see myself at risk for a heart attack. 

My daughter stayed back with me. We sat there on the trail for a while as I rested, then we hiked back down to the trail head. The hike down was fine and I did feel better.

At the shuttle stop while we waited for our bus to pick up us and drive us to the parking lot, we had a snack and water.  Again, I was feeling better than I had on the trail. I noticed I was rubbing both of my eyes a lot and dug through my pack to find my allergy eye drops.  I doused my eyes with the drops and waited. There is that brief time period where eye drops burn like crazy before they soothe. I was still rubbing my eyes after we got on the shuttle. 

It wasn't until I sat down in my car and was looking in the rear view mirror getting ready to back out that I noticed how swollen my left eye was. Holy shit, it was barely open.

I dug back through my pack and found my large stash of Benadryl pills.  This is the number one item I always have and always have to share with those around me while hiking. 

People underestimate their allergic reaction to things that happen while miles away from a pharmacy. While sitting in the car for a while I posted my photos of my triumphant disappointment of a morning. I had been looking forward to this hike. It was going to be an ass kicker, but the views make it worth the pain.

Feeling like I had handled this little emergency of a morning, we headed home.

Once home, the adrenaline rush of worry about how bad I had felt on the trail was wearing off and the Bendaryl was kicking in so I took a nap. When I woke up an hour later, I had a FB email from a friend who is a local Fire Fighter.  He said that the symptoms I had described were very in line with heart attack symptoms for women.

Theresa had texted to see how I was feeling, so I told her about the message.  She asked if I wanted her to come get me and take me to the ER? "No," I replied. I felt fine now.  Then I saw another message from a friend asking me how my "vascular" health was and my blood pressure. You know you are getting old when people as asking health questions on Facebook!

I have no clue what my vascular health is?  I smoked for 22 years and didn't start taking care of my body until about 8 years ago. I called Theresa back and told her I had changed my mind and that I would really appreciate it if she would come get me and take me to the ER. I decided that if this was all just allergy related and they had to give me a shot of epinephrine, that I would be happy someone else was driving my shaky ass home.  

It is always weird to show up at an Emergency Room.  I told them that I wanted to be checked for maybe having heart attack symptoms.  44 year old female carrying 35 extra pounds around her mid section was whisked in and the first EKG was done. Moved from the triage room to another more permanent room. More sticky pads and blood work drawn.  Each new person and new question made it clear that I had made the correct choice to come in to get checked out. 

Yes I smoked for 22 years, pack and a half a day.
Yes, I am carrying some extra weight.
Yes, I have had a lot of stress this week.  I got fired on Tuesday. 
Yes, I have been slightly stressed out for weeks, awful work place.
Yes, I my body loves to yell at me via eczema, allergies, irritable bowel, headaches, inability to sleep and cystic colitis. 
Yes, I have neck and shoulder pain.  So much so that I started getting acupuncture and now I have a massage therapist who twist and contorts my body into various pretzel shapes while digging her elbows and strong pointy fingers into my muscles.  
No, I don't sleep well consistently.
No, I don't exercise regularly. I haven't even been able to walk for the past two months due to my heel now hurting. 
No, I don't have an outlet for my stress.
Yes, I know I should be breathing.

While I had a very nice long visit (5 hours) with my girl friend, while we waited for the two hours to pass before they would take more blood and compare it to the first test, I would have preferred to have my girl time pool side with sun warming my skin.  

Finally the Doctor came back in and announced that I had not had a heart attack. My x-rays of my heart look great. The numbers that would have spiked a few hours after having a heart attack were non-existent.  I was going to be released with a pamphlet about stress and needing to relax. 

Stress, lack of sleep, and allergies took me down yesterday. 

I was released and brought home. 

Now, what do I do with this lesson?  This is the tricky part. I am fine. It could be months or years before my body screams at me like this again. 

I don't know how to make the changes in my life I need to. I am not sure how to hold myself accountable for the changes I need to make and the effort I need to put into my own life, every single day. Even after having a Doctor tell me two years ago to manage my diet, my stress and my sleep or I could lose my intestines I slipped back into not taking care of myself. I have had enough health scares that should have been big enough events to force me to make the changes that bring my body back to healthy and neutral, but I haven't made any lasting positive changes to my life. 

I am grateful to have woken up to another beautiful day full of promise, even with a still slightly swollen eyelid. 

How do I commit to living my best life?  This is a wake-up call for both my physical body and needing to lose this weight and a call for me to put my emotional and spiritual health at the top of my list every day. 

How have you made the changes you needed to in your own life?  What tips can you give me?  What tools have helped you out the best? How have you committed to making yourself your number one priority?  What do you do every day to take care of yourself?

Day 2 of my unemployment was fairly productive. I found & applied for 6 jobs. I also decided it was about time I dipped my toe a little farther into the social media waters.  As you know, I love my Facebook and recently started Melissa's Colorado as a place to just talk about the things I love to do and eat in this gorgeous state. Theresa told me last week that Instagram will post my photos to Facebook and Twitter at the same time, so I spent the afternoon setting up a second Twitter account for @MelsColorado and figuring out how to switch back and forth between that account and my @strongstarting account. 

I love learning new things and adore social media! 

That and my children being home with me made the day fly by. No time for sadness. I am good at keeping busy. 

Day 3, today, I took my kids back to be with the day for the day and well my house is really quiet.  Like, I can hear buzzing in my ears kinda quiet. 

Today has been much harder than yesterday. Today I opened the mailbox and my final paycheck has arrived. Knowing exactly how much money I have left until I earn another paycheck really bummed me the fuck out. 

I logged on and searched for more jobs that I might enjoy-scratch that-am over qualified for. 

I cleaned out two drawers and found my long lost YMCA membership card, at 3 handfuls of M & M's, hung out on LinkedIn, Facebook, Twitter, scrap-booked some souvenirs from my DC trip into my journal and texted with my daughter who we just set up on Facebook.  I also polished some of the wood horizontal surfaces in the living and dining room. 

Officially 5 pm. closing time!!  I can relax now, right? 

Command Central so I don't lay on the couch...Journal, souvenirs to scrap book, kombucha for my aching belly, tp for my tears of joy, YMCA card to go to the pool, notebook of companies I have applied to so I can follow up. 

"I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then." Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.

Most days at work at my current employer, I feel like I am Alice and that I have fallen down the rabbit hole. I sit down at my desk and wonder what alternate universe I have been dropped in. I wonder what the name of my episode of The Twilight Zone is? I sit, quietly waiting for someone to come around the corner and tell me this was all just a really bad reality tv show, except that hasn't happened.

What happened, is that I was fired today. It doesn't matter that I was turning in my two weeks notice. He beat me to the punch, took the wind out of my sail.

I got to work early. I was dropped off as my car has died again. Boss #1 walked into my office and I said, "Good morning!" He said, "your employment is being terminated." 

Well if that don't just beat all. (Snort & head shake) I didn't see that coming this morning. I have a busy week full of appointments. Okay, then, roll with this, RIGHT?!  He asked if I needed a box. I replied, "no." Then I told him I needed to text Jason to come get me as I had been dropped off. He asked if I needed him to take me somewhere. I replied, "no."

Turns out I did need the box. I had settled into my space. I gathered my stuff. He collected my keys. I wondered if I should explain the stuff on my desk and my appointments. Then it dawned on my that I have been in his shoes far too many times. He already has access to all of my stuff. It will all be fine. 

I picked up my box and headed out the door past both of my co-workers who were just getting to work. I made it to the parking lot, sat my box down and started texting Jason to get back here asap.  Standing in the parking lot with your box of shit sucks. Waiting to be picked up sucks even worse. 

I came home and got to tell my kids why I was returning so damn early and why I as crying. They were super sweet and reminded me that I am super smart and will find a new job.  Interesting is that both of them said they were happy I wouldn't be getting yelled at anymore. Amen, sweet children, Mommy is tired of that too. 

4 months ago I ran the daily operations of a property management office. I took payments, applied payments, paid the vendors, paid the owners, answered questions about available rental properties, took applications, reviewed applications, selected good prospects, typed up the lease, walked through the lease with the tenants and put their information into the computer system. I checked who hadn't paid rent and applied fees and created the legal demand letters and sometimes posted them. I did annual inspections and typed up renewal leases. I ran the maintenance for 180 properties. Took the calls & emails for maintenance issues, selected the appropriate vendor and sent the work order. I then received an estimate, copied it to the owner, had it approved and then called the vendor and authorized the work to be completed. I spoke with the vendors every couple of days to make sure nothing fell through the cracks, which things do when you run this big of operation. Then I would receive billing, get it into the system and scanned into the software so the owner's could see it and so we had it saved for eternity.  I had 80 owners all over the United States. I had ulcers up every inch of my 6 foot colon from carrying the stress.

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all made here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat "or you wouldn't have come here."

I don't want to be "mad" anymore. Theresa & I just had a huge long planning session on me setting boundaries for how I will be treated at work and what would be unacceptable behavior from my employer. I didn't get to use any of my big girl plans. I didn't get to hand them my official two weeks notice. 

This story of the past 4 months is so bizarre that I don't know where to begin.

I started putting out resumes at the beginning of the year because the company I worked for was closing it's doors. No more job for me after working my ass off for almost 3 years. I was terrified of ending up right here, unemployed. Life is a funny.

Out of all of my searching & applying I did, I had one actual interview (other than this job I lost today), over the phone for a company that requires a testament of faith, which I provided. What they really want is the name of the church you attend, that I cannot provide. Then I saw an opportunity to jump to a neighboring property management company. It wasn't ideal, as they have been through two other managers in the 2 years but the owner is a very smart and they have the bank to pay their bills. I knew he was a womanizing relic, but had no clue he was verbally abusive and so mean. Boss #1 is the President and his step-son the Vice President or Boss #2. I am sending out good thoughts for Boss #2 that he doesn't suffer my fate trying to stay two steps ahead of his problem child. 

I am grateful they fired me. I wouldn't have left. The pattern I know is to stay, tough it out, not give up. I am learning that when you work with crazy, there will be no success, and very little joy. Employers, much like husbands, don't change.

It is easy to forget how nasty it can be to work for small business. There is no HR department to go speak to. There is no formal complaint process. Fuck, there is no complaint process. Pointing out inconsistencies or errors your boss's make still gets your ass fired. They seem to be most at ease when it is just the two of them screwing shit up. Crazy ass fiefdom & royal court bullshit daily. Never sure what brand of hot mess or crazy was going to walk through my door and insult and belittle me in front of my co-workers. Not in all of my working days have I been spoken to so cruelly. My ex husband spoke nicer to me during our marriage than my employer spoke to me. 

On it's best days property management is a hard business. Add a touch of crazy old bastard & a dash of high strung second in command hoping he inherits the business and well let's just say I have done a great deal of crying and losing sleep over this job.

Every day there was another twist, wrinkle or item that hadn't been handled like they wanted it handled. Yet they didn't have much in place in the way of streamlining. I showed them my old lease which was one document that contained everything. Each person gets the same document, no exception. Cross out the items that don't apply. Cuts down on human errors. Standardized forms for declining applicants, security deposits with balance being returned or security deposits with balance due. Days were spent creating letters that were then sent for review. Only to be edited and changed. Just create a draft Mr. I have been doing this for 15 years. Streamline your damn process. Stop making me jump through flaming hoops to crank out form letters.

It took me 17 years and the brief stupid attention of another man to force me to find the courage to leave my abusive, dead, loveless marriage. I think deep down this is the devil I know. I am glad my hand was forced.That being said, fuck, I have to find a new job. I have two children to support and little chance for receiving more than $180 in child support. 

This is a blessing in disguise for sure, just a painful, scary, expensive blessing. Never in a million years would I have ever imagined that I would get fired. Not one bad review, ever~until I made a deal with the devil I thought I knew. 

Day 1 of unemployment I applied for 5 jobs. Tomorrow I head to the unemployment office to figure out if I can qualify for unemployment and how hard I will have to fight since they feel they have cause to let me go. So much to learn. 

Yesterday, Bossman #1 was in and out of the office. A collective sigh was released every time he announced he was leaving for a bit. 

Nothing personal, but we all had a ton to do and uninterrupted time is very precious when you are in customer service. 

I got to work a bit early in hope of cranking out some neglected data entry.  I was quite pleased with how much I was able to get completed before lunch yesterday.  I looked at my clock, saw it was the designated lunch time and gathered my stuff to go run my errands.  I walked out of my office and had turned to say "have a good lunch," to my office mate and ran into Bossman #1. Not physically, but he did stop and not let me pass. 

With a scowl on his face, he asked "What are you smiling for?" "Did you think I was gone again?" 

In the space between my breathes, I swallowed down an entire single spaced, nine hundred and ninety-nine word essay on how to be a great leader, how to motivate your "team", what the definition of the fucking word "team" means, historical reference of how great leaders inspire, sexual-harassment policy since 1988, verbal abuse, and studies on the death of companies where Micro Management was the backbone of leadership. 

I am certain my smile grew even wider as I replied, "Nope, I am just happy I am allowed to leave for lunch!" 

I walked around him and exited the cave of despair and walked towards the light of freedom.  

I ran my errands which consisted of getting a cashier's check for $500.00 to pay off 75% of what I owe the State Mandated Parenting Coordinator for all of her assistance in my co-parenting with my ex.  That felt powerful and fabulous!  Then I went to my favorite little hole in the wall, where I was the only person there and had control of the big screen tv.  I found a monster fishing show where they try to catch huge tuna that they sell for more than I owe my parenting coordinator and I ate my spring rolls. 

A full hour lunch break (escape) is necessary for me to make it through my work day.  I am grateful that The State of Colorado has mandatory guidelines about work breaks for anyone who works a certain amount of hours in a row. 

Thank you Colorado!

To my ex-husband on Father's Day. I sent this to him back on June 6th. 

Some of you will think it was stupid of me  to send seeing as he will never really understand who I am, but part of being who I am is trying to bridge this gap I created when I told him I had to leave him. I am still in denial most days that we knew so little about one another after being together for so long.

"What you said to Lana a few weeks ago about us wishing each other dead has really stuck in my head. I have had a couple of dreams about it recently, so I am going to get this out of my head.

When you told Lana that you and I wished each other dead and that the interesting thing would be that if either of us died, that the surviving parent would be the first suspect, I was angry. The amount of detail and thought that went into this analogy for Lana was shocking. Many of the conversations you have with the kids astound me and upset me.

There was so much going on that day, stress, fear, worry, unknown that I didn't want to piss you off when we needed to stand firm together as Lana's parents. You and I stuck in a  room together for 5 hours made it difficult to breathe.  I left that day with my mind processing all of the information about Lana and school.

But since then in the rare quiet moments, I see you saying to our daughter that there are times you wish I was dead.
I want to be make sure you know that I do not wish you dead. Not even at my most angry with you have I wished you dead. I do not like you as my partner. I am not always thrilled with the fact that you are the father to my children, but it has never crossed my mind to wish you gone. For whatever reason, we were meant to meet and meant to create Liam & Lana.

Have I told the kids you drive me crazy, yes. I have even said you are a huge pain in my ass. But since you are a part of them, I have always tried to tell them stories of good times I have had with you. I tell them about matching you slice for slice eating pizza for most of our early marriage. I tell them that you are one of the smartest men I have ever known. I tell them about how you were on the cutting edge of computers and video games when we met and that is where Liam gets his skill from. I tell them that their ability to learn and assimilate math is from you. I tell them about how we met dancing and how I had hoped to being dancing with you when we were very old. I tell them about your ability to speak and retain multiple languages and multiple instruments.

I hope you live a very long life. Not in a million years would I waste a wish or prayer to make you disappear. I hope that you will dance with our daughter at her wedding. I hope Liam will be blessed to change his first diaper under your tutelage and that you will tell him he is as slow as his mother.  

I hope that like my parents, that our kids will grow up to see that the best thing we ever did was have them and divorce.  They deserve their mother and their father. They deserve to get to know us as beautifully flawed adults who were doing the best we could. 

It may be decades down the road before you can believe this, but I only wish you happiness and love and success.  It costs me nothing to feel that for you and I know that your happiness doesn't cost me mine.  There is enough out there for all of us."


I read his response and let it go. It is still very difficult for me to accept that I lived and loved someone for 17 years who doesn't get me.  

This is my first Father's Day without my dad in this world. He and I have lived on different continents or at least different parts of the country for all of my adult life.

I don't have rituals or family traditions for what to do on Father's Day other than the ones I created for my ex-husband. I don't ever remember celebrating Father's Day as a child. 

When I had children we always had a special breakfast and the kids and I would make him something.  Last year my anger that he doesn't recognize or help the kids make my day special meant that for the first time since our divorce, I didn't gather items for the kids to make him cards or take them to the store to get him something. I was pissed. 

It was stupid of me. I pulled my head out of my ass this year and made sure they knew that this is a special holiday and that I would help them show their dad that they celebrate him. 

I am missing my dad.  The kids and I had breakfast with him this morning. I put his box of cremains on the table with us. Then I put him on the foot stool while I laid around reading a book. I found that I have a phone message he left for me and saved it so I don't accidentally delete it. I can hear him telling me who he is, like I wouldn't know his voice and then, like in every message, he tells me that he loves me.

I remembered that the kids and I are heading to my sister's in a couple of weeks and that we have talked about doing a little funeral ceremony with all of our kids since none of them were able to attend dad's funeral. Stuff to think on. 

Last night after 9 pm, my phone started singing to announce that I had work emails coming through. I opened them to verify that I didn't have any emergencies happening. I was out with a girlfriend and just wishing my boss would go to sleep.

Nope, Boss #2 was still awake and searching for errors and problems. He can't find a lease I had the tenants sign on Monday. It isn't on the server. It isn't on the web based program we use. That is because it was sitting on my desk. I needed to have the owner sign it, but the week happened as it always does and several new problems popped up. I had three basements flood and a ton of smaller issues that sprang forward onto the dance floor.

The email last night from Boss #2 stated that I was to get the lease signed and uploaded into the appropriate places FIRST THING IN THE MORNING.

I hadn't even set my keys down this morning when I was told that Boss #1 was looking for me. I went back and was walked through this error again, and was told to fix it right now.

I went and fixed it.

Then an hour later Boss #1 walked in to our main office area and told me how very disappointed he was that I hadn't pulled up the carpet in a house I had gone to after the tenant moved out. He is so very disappointed that I am not able to put the clues together. "Maybe when I get older than 29, I will attain the brains to be a real property manager."

My last instruction was that if I smelled animal pee in a house to pull back the corners of the carpet to look for stains. This is how we document that the tenants animals ruined the carpet.  I did not smell animal at all in this house. I smelled the hell out of it in the detached garage, but nothing in the house.

Yesterday, Boss #1 went behind me like he has on each of the six properties I have cleared so far. Boss #2  just showed me how to pull back the carpet three weeks ago. You could smell dog pee in that house. He said if you can smell it, pull back corners until you find it. It only cost $20 for the carpet guy to reattach it if I am wrong. I have worked for two other companies and never have pulled back carpet. I actually think this is brilliant, but I saw carpet that could be cleaned and did not smell animal.

Now I got the lecture from Boss #2 yesterday (they love to tag team me) on this and how it was such a waste that Boss #1 had to go behind me and find that I hadn't done my job. Even while listening to Boss # 2, I know that Boss #1 will have to have his time expressing his unhappiness too.  Public reprimands are horrid to sit through. You can't not listen and be aware of what is going on. I am grateful that my office mates keep busy or give the illusion of working and not listening.

I made it through the not in any way professional "constructive criticism" without crying or making excuses other than I hadn't smelled pet. He advised me to always pull up the carpet when there has been a pet, smell or not. Understood.

Then I went out to look at a tenant's fridge that has a freezer that is not at freezing even after having sent out the appliance repair vendor to replace parts. I took the photos and got the model & serial number of the fridge so we could determine if it is worth putting more money into the fridge. When I returned back I was summoned to Boss #1's office. Very little good happens back there. The private discussions are so much harder than the public discussions.

He started by stating that he is very unhappy with my performance. Very, unhappy. Very unhappy with me. He wanted to make sure that I am aware that this is the last time we will have this conversation. It seems I am not learning from my mistakes. Some of his examples are not correct and I walk him through what has happened. It doesn't matter. I have made mistakes. They actively search night and day for them. Correcting your boss doesn't win you victory, just another nail in your coffin. 

Boss #2 is so frustrated with me that he can't stop telling Boss #1 how much additional work I am causing him. Boss #1 is so worried about Boss #2 being so overwhelmed having to manage me and my complete inability to do my job. I am taking as deep of breaths as I can  while listening.

Yesterday they sat and explained to me that I use too many words. They would like me to be just like them. I need to stop being me. I need to do what they would do. My heart hurt being told they do not want me to do the job, they want me to do the job like they would.

I have struggled for weeks knowing they do not want a property manager but only an assistant. They want someone to tell do this, this certain way, by this time and write up a full report.

I did this job effectively and with grace for over 3 years for 81 owners or Boss's. I had less than 5 that required weekly attention. I could never have imagined these two men being harder than managing & juggling 81 different owners. I thought I understood Boss #1's old school meanness, but I really had no clue. What I saw as gruff and matter of fact was due to the fact that I did not work for him.

The private office chat was really hard. He doesn't mince words. He is so unhappy that this will be his final, final warning. The next mistake will cost me my job and he will fire me. He likes to try and be jovial while telling you that you aren't smart enough to do the job, that you have no pride in your work, that you can't seem to learn from your mistakes. I don't think he would be very comfortable if I taped what he was saying and played it back for him. I think he would be very shocked at how personal and mean he gets. He wanted me to fight with him. After taking what was probably an audible breath, he told that I should yell at him, go ahead and get mad, maybe even cry. I told him I was okay. Getting out those words without letting the tears stream down my cheeks was very tough, but I spoke them. Then I took another deep loud exhale.

I am still a big fool for listening. I want to hear what I have done wrong. I want to defend the items that are defendable. I want to own and learn, but I also want to throw the bullshit card. But I don't. I just breathe and listen and try to stay present. I did this for over 17 years with my ex. I am well schooled at choking down my feelings and words.  I know my face is showing my discomfort, but I just keep eye contact as best I can, acknowledge what is being said to me and I breathe. Small, shallow breaths, but I keep breathing.

It feels like nightmare hellish boot camp to me and I am trying not to be broken. There is no reason to break me. 

I state that I understand how much he and Boss #2 are disappointed. He then tells me that Boss #2 is so overwhelmed with his work load and having to hold my hand and review and correct all of my work. Boss #2 is under so much stress because of me that Boss #1 is now worried for Boss #2's (his stepson) wife and children. This is all because I am such a failure at my job.

Then he tells me that the only thing I do that they like and that brings value to the company is that I can write a good letter. Mind you they are too lengthy but the spelling and punctuation are correct.  He congratulates me for having a good grasp of the English language.

I got defensive and really had to focus because my mind started wandering to all of the things I have done that were great and correct and just passed by unnoticed.

He can only think of the one thing. Are you kidding me? One fucking thing? This is terribly irritating and aggravating.

My breathing went to my upper chest. My chest felt tight. My face flushed. Tears were filling my eyes.

Then he closed the conversation. Did I understand where we stood?

Yes, yes I understand. As I walked into our shared office, I avoided eye contact with the accountant and just handed her some papers Boss #1 asked me to take to her. I am a very emotional person. I am a big feeler. I am a crier. Except around men, abusive men.  I would rather cut my skin, push my finger nails into my arms or bite through my tongue than shed a tear of defeat.

I sat down at my desk and listened to my voicemails and finished out my day. This was my short day.

I walked to my car and sat down and locked the door and let it all be felt. 

I have never had a bad review. Always new goals and things to tweak, but I have never been in trouble. I have never not wowed my employers. I almost always have met my numbers and goals. I have never not received raises or promotions or awards or bonus's. Never, not since I started working at 15.

I am trying to hear the universe. Stop accepting abuse. Once you recognize it, stop allowing it to happen. Stop trying to fix it. Stop thinking you can fix people. Stop selling your sanity and soul to make money. If I didn't need the money I would never have taken the job to begin with and I most certainly would have quit the first time I was spoken to disrespectfully.

I will send my resume out to my friends for review again since I didn't get calls for interviews to the positions I applied for and truly wanted. I will get my new resume out there to see if I can find a place to call home where my skills can be of benefit.

Tonight I am licking my wounds and saying thank you to the universe. I hear you. You can stop beating me over the head. You have my attention. 

I need to break this cycle of abuse. Life shouldn't be this hard. The people you spend 75 percent of your day with, shouldn't be this mean. Time to find a new career path. One with people who I can support and who can support me. 

It is a weekend without my kids, my boy friend is out working this afternoon and I should be hip deep in writing to describe all of the things swirling in my head. Instead I went to the ARC Thrift Store.

Now I am home, all by myself and should be writing. But we are having a nice break from the rain and I decided that I wanted to sit outside so I moved to the front porch.

Then it dawned on me that I could do that "grounding" thing and sit in the yard under my lilac bush and squirrel tree with my feet in the grass so I hauled my chair down to the grass.

Now I am sitting with my feet in the grass wondering how many mosquito bites I will end up with? 

Sometimes I can just sit down and write but most of the time, my muse hits me in the late evening or early morning. Unfortunately that is also the time that the people in my life want my attention as well. 

I wish I could take a nice walk, but my foot & heel are still bothering me. I get a lot of good juice going while I walk. I went to my acupuncturist again today and after inserting the needles, they hooked me up to a tens machine. He said once a week until the pain stops.  I am ready for the pain and the rain to stop. I am ready for my hiking areas to dry up and not be 6 inches of mushy mud.

Maybe I will go for a short walk and just see what fills my head.