Total Pageviews

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Goodbye 2013.... HELLO 2014!


It's no surprise that this year wasn't all I'd hoped it would be.

Is anything ever ALL we expect it to be?

Maybe we should expect less and be grateful for more!

While it is true that I have had my share of ups and downs this year, I am incredibly grateful for those "down" moments / days, as they gave me clarity and the phrase, "when a door closes, another one opens" rang true.

2013 opened my eyes to many things I didn't want to see.  Things in others.  Things within myself.  I learned that while it's always good to give people a chance, that I should trust my first instinct at all times - especially when it comes to my babies.  I was given an opportunity to evaluate the things around me and take positive steps to change things in many areas of my life.  While some steps were difficult, they opened me and my family up to a world of new possibilities.  That I am incredibly grateful for!


It is only in looking back and letting go you can truly see what lies ahead.

This post is going to be short, sweet and to the point today....

My wish for you all is that you can look through the "ick" in your life and see where you are meant to go, what you are meant to learn and SEE the happiness that lies ahead.  I wish that you learn to embrace the negative as a learning experience and take steps forward, no matter how scary.  Life is really good, and really short!  Embrace it.  Love those who love you.  Take all the love that is offered to you, because you never know what tomorrow brings.  Don't turn down a dinner invitation from an old friend.  Be happy.  Have fun.  Be goofy.  Dance in your underwear when no one's looking.  Sing loud.  Laugh louder.  Spin around in circles until you get dizzy and fall down... then get back up and do it again!

Goodbye 2013 and welcome to a brand new, clean slate in 2014.

Thank you all for your continued support.

I am truly thankful for each and every one of you!!

Happy New Year!

Cheers,
Jenn

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Comments make a difference... YOU make a difference.

Today I was reminded why I blog about the absolute SHIT that I have endured in my life.

Most of you know I don't usually swear in my blogs and on my page, but I think you get what I'm talking about when I refer to "absolute shit".


Life hasn't always been sunshine and flowers.  I had a crappy childhood.  I endured some "stuff" and many times created my own problems.  I have also lived though the suicides of both my dad and my brother.

 These are things I will NEVER, EVER, EVER get over.  EVER!

I miss my dad and my brother every single day.  No lie, I often beg God to give me a "pass" to hang out with them for one more time.  Just one time to hug them, to tell them the things I never got to tell them.  To say I love you and to find out why they left this place without even saying good bye.

This is the stuff that haunts me.

...But I get over it.  Otherwise I couldn't exist.
Some people call it strength - I call it survival.

Today, I got a comment on a post I'd written.  The post which was commented on was totally unrelated to the comment, but I got why this individual commented where they did.  Anonymity.

This person is someone who is struggling with being a survivor.  Someone who has lived every single day, after finding someone they love in a way no one ever wants to find a loved one.  Someone who has to live with that mental image that he has to overcome.  Someone who, as a result, struggles to see the amazing individual they are.

His comment brought me to tears.  He thanked me and let me know that my posts do help.  He told me that my posts made a difference in his life. To me, this is powerful.  To me - this is what it's all about.  Helping.

I blog for many reasons.  Sometimes it's to get rid of the stuff that's pounding into my head or making me angry, or hurting my heart.  Sometimes it's to turn that hurt into a resource that will help another.

Whatever I post is meant to help, not hurt.  Even the negative posts have a spin that is meant to bring about an ah ha moment.  Whether it's found or not is up to the reader.

I always say that if my posts help even one person - I am happy.

Thank you to this person who let me know I made a difference in their life.  That my post helped.

Thank you for reaching into your "inner hell" and making peace with it.

This is a Christmas gift to me like no other.

This season is tough for so many.  When depression takes its hold on you - shake it loose!  I know that sounds easier said than done - but you are here!  You are amazing and wonderful.  You are a survivor.

We are all survivors in our individual situations.

Take hold of it.  Own it.  Go be you - all of you.  The good, the bad and the ugly.  You are here, you are good, you are worth every single breath!

Thank you all so much for your love and support of my blog.

For those of you struggling, I love you so much.  Please find the good.  There is always good.

I am so incredibly blessed to have each and every one of you.  Your support of my blog is immeasurable. When it comes down to it, I'm just some chick from Jersey who doesn't know when to shut up.  Thank you all for continuing to listen!  <3

Total gratitude!

Thank you for reading my blog!

~Jenn

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

What'd you just call me?????

My husband and I are foster parents...

Every once in a while I discuss that, but I try to keep it low key unless there's a topic worth discussing.  The "short one" is our youngest, and our foster child who we are waiting to adopt.


When she first came to us, I was Miss Jenn.  She had a mom whom she still had visitation with and I don't like to interfere in those situations.  Her mom was her mom.  With the exception of the real little ones who call me whatever they decide to call me, I'm not mom until I'm actually MOM, regardless of the role I play in their lives.

The end of last year, the short one's biological mother surrendered her parental rights to us, which put us on the path to her adoption.  In this, the short one began to try on what she'd call me, "mom, mommy, momma."  It was all very cute hearing her practice.


Anyway....  In all of this, our daughter decided to step up to the plate with what she thought needed to happen.  She told the short one that she's rather she refer to me as something other than "mommy" because that belonged to her.  I get that.  I didn't fight with her about it or correct it, because that's a sensitive issue as well.  Another kid coming around calling HER mommy... mommy.  We all talked about things and discussed how to best make everyone happy and comfortable.

A few days later, my daughter decided she was going to go in a completely different direction.  She'd decided that from here forward, she was now going to refer to me as Jennifer.

Oh really?

Her logic was that calling mom in a crowd got many head turns, but not necessarily mine -- so calling me by my first name would be much more effective. Besides - she's at the ripe old age of 11 and entirely too mature.  No need to refer to me as mommy anymore. Jennifer it will now be.

Yeah... I don't think so kid.

I'm MOM!  I earned that title!  I equate that to Dr. Smith - who spent so many years in school studying for his/her doctorate.  Go on... Call 'em Mr./Mrs. Smith - see the correction come flying.  I don't blame 'em... They earned it!  You WILL call them DOCTOR!

I am MOM.  I've earned it...  I spent 9 grueling months fighting hormones & the desire to eat whole pizzas and 5 lbs of mashed potatoes simultaneously.  I spent 3 months throwing up at the mere site of Port Wine Cheese or the smell of steak cooking....  I earned it!  I bear the stretch marks.  I can no longer wear a bikini and will forever have this extra skin from 9 lb children living inside of my body.


Have I also mentioned, my child - that I've been peed on, puked on, pooped on... I've spent countless months walking around sporting the "zombie" look as you poked me in my eyes and whipped my boobs out in public.  I'm mom.

I became the human taxi cab when you wanted to be shuffled from one side of town to the other and was awoken in the middle of the night various times for various reasons.  Many times, to be puked on.

The list goes on, shall I continue??

You call me MOMMMMMMM.....


At the end of this conversation - my daughter turned three shades of pale.  She'd already informed me that she doesn't want to have kids because she's "not shooting a baby out of her coochie."

This conversation may have sealed the deal of no grand kids for me from this child....

Or maybe, just maybe -- she will think carefully about the things I've told her and grasp the fact that I've earned my "Mommy Stripes" and will continue to do so through out all my kids' lives.

Whether your 8 or 80 - you'll always be my baby and I will ALWAYS be Mommy!  That goes for you too, Kyle!

MOMMY!
That's what you call me!

Thank you for reading my blog!!

~Jenn

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Friday, December 6, 2013

Oh M'gosh! I could be your mommy!

.
It's finally sunken in...
I'm just a few crinkled laugh lines away from being an old bag.

I don't feel old.  I guess I'm not actually OLD, but I'm no spring chicken that's for sure.  Mentally I feel like I'm 20 something.  Most times I act about that old, if that old, but my teeter totter has definitely tipped and I've got my claws sunken deep into the center trying to hold on.  It's happening..I'm getting old.


I was talking to one of my customers on the phone the other day, discussing my care free "single days".  The days when I used to go down to Treasure Island in Florida and hang out at this really cool outside bar, Gators, and watch the people bungee jump from the crane that was owned by the professional wrestlers, the Bushwackers.  Then I realized -- holy CRAP - that was the late 80's early 90's.  More than 20 years ago.  Eek.  Is the WWF even a thing anymore?  Is bungee jumping??


The old bag mentality has most recently kicked in while my husband and I were out for dinner at the local bar/restaurant.  I made friends with the waiter (but of course you did, Jenn) and in conversation he mentioned that he was 21.  I very promptly uttered, "Oh m'gosh...I could totally be your mommy."  My husband got a total kick out of this - because as some of you know - I'd talk to a rock and make friends with that rock if it gave me 5 minutes.  I also don't pick up on the social cues while I'm talking to these people.  I completely miss that they're probably thinking "man, when will this old bag shut her pie hole." I just keep rambling on and on - being my silly ol' self.  They're all really polite.  Their mommies are probably my friends & raised them well because ya know...

I could totally be their mommy.


It hit me again when we got new neighbors.  They're the cutest little couple... 23 and 25 (if that, I think).  I could be their mommy.  We considered inviting them to one of our "neighborly get togethers" on our corner of the block - but then we wondered....would we scare them?  Would they think the old bags have totally lost their marbles... Start calling their friends to say "HEY... There's this house across the street.  Yeah, the people still live there but they're OLDDDDDDDDD (and off their rockers)....they're sure to retire and move (or die) soon.  Come take a look."

Seriously....  I could be their mommy.  One of the "old folks" on the block.  Me?  Wait, what?

I am NOT the hip cool 20/30 (and almost not even 40) something anymore.  I don't blend.  I am NOT the one "they" think of as fun to hang out with, I'm the one who could be their mommy.  Heck...I could even be a grandma... When one of my son's friends was over our house, I had on Led Zeppelin.  L.E.D.  Z.E.P.P.E.L.I.N.  I went to change it and my son's friend said, it's OK, Mrs. C....  I love the oldies.  Ahhhhhhhh  T.H.E.  O.L.D.I.E.S.   Led Zeppelin??


I already knew I could be his mommy.

Is anyone else feelin' me here??  What happened?  When did I hop on the old lady train?

I was cool with the age thing - until this last birthday.  45 didn't bother me, 46 didn't bother me, 47 didn't bother me (much) but 48?  Forty eight represents the moment that the teeter totter tipped hard and fast and has sent me rolling furiously toward the next big 0.

Not cool.  I'm not even sort of close to 40 anymore.  Heck - if you were to round off the number mathematically - it wouldn't even round to 45... it rounds to 50.  Yuck.

Beats the alternative - but when the heck did I blink so long that I gained all these extra years??  That these really fun and cool people are now my son's age.  That all of the really fun stuff that I did when I was younger has turned to distant memories.

I've still got a few more years of 40-something.  I plan to still be fabulous at 50.  Things haven't really changed ALL that much.  I'm older.  I might be a little wiser.  Old enough to know better, young enough to keep trying...

All the while trying to be a good example (or horrible warning) because Oh M'gosh... I could TOTALLY be your mommy!

Thank you for reading my blog!!

~Jenn

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Sunday, December 1, 2013

My Husband is FAT and it's all my fault...

No - that's not my hubby...
Revised from March 15, 2012

As the morning started here, more than a year after I originally wrote this post - I'm reminded why this post was created....



Hubby and I have been dieting for over a year.
Combined, we've lost a person in weight, but here we are in the holiday season.  Although I've continued to cook healthy to keep us on track, there's fabulous food everywhere, which is so hard to resist.

The scale has been moving in the wrong direction creating this morning's conversation between rooms...

Hubby:  "Honey, I can't find the butter."
Me:        "Well, I used it last night in the Alfredo sauce"
Hubby:  "All of it?"
Me:        "Yes, ALL of it.  It was a half stick of butter."
Hubby:  "That's WHY I'm getting fat again."
Me:        "Oh yeah... THAT'S why you're getting fat again."

ALL.MY.FAULT.

Hence this re-post.

Before anyone gets all up in defense of my hubby... this post is complete sarcasm on my part.  I would NEVER call my hubby fat!  I'm not that person, and he's plenty good at calling himself fat.

This is what HE says to ME, "I'm fat, because you cook dinner.  I love what you make & I can't just have one serving.  It's your fault!"

Well thank you, sweetie!  I'm so happy that you enjoy my meals - but don't get mad at me!
Yeah, I cook, and I love to whip things up and think to myself, "hmmm, what would make this taste even better."  Not all my "concoctions" make a second round - but when they do - well, they're not necessarily low cal.  Sorry honey.


Hey, I eat too, ya know... Not like I haven't blown up like a wood tick since he bought and paid for the 120 lb package.

Hello...Fat & Happy?  Have you not heard of this?

Yeah, I'd like to drop a few lbs too.  I've got many more to go before I'm the trim slim 120 I was when we got married.  Those size 3 days are long behind me, so what the heck is he complaining about?!?

The only time in my life I was an emaciated, anorexic blonde was when I was going through my divorce with Kyle's dad & I referred to that as the "nervous breakdown diet".  Yeah, I dropped like 20 lbs - but I don't recommend the accompanying stress.

No, you're right honey, it's ALL MY FAULT!  It has absolutely nothing to do with that doughnut you're washing down with a Coke.  It's my dinner.  You just go ahead and blame me!

Personally, I like a little something extra to hold onto on my man.  Could WE (yes, WE dear) stand to drop a few pounds.  Of course!  Yes, I am working toward preplanned menus of healthy lo-cal meals - but what will the children eat??

I could see it now...  Mommy where's my Twinkies??  Miss Jenn, this tastes like crap - where's the good and greasy cheeseburger pie?  What's this green stuff?  I don't liiiiiiikkkke thisssss.  Can we have McDonald's instead?

I believe it's a trade off...The kids are "in charge" - and as long as we get to feed them - sorry baby...Cheeseburger Pie it is!  I need something to hide the vegetables in!

Want a salad with that?

Besides -- you got hit by a flippin' car and you did more damage to the car than it did to you!
 Here, have a sandwich!  I love you just the way you are!

Thank you for reading my blog!!

~Jenn

Follow my blog with Bloglovin