It's a Pirate's Life for Me - Part 2!

I should probably wait to post this until the quilt is done...but oh well!

Dreamer's Revenge is finally complete!  The last piece was put into place, bolted down and plugged in.  Yes, plugged in - she has lights.  Jaeden hasn't stopped climbing up and jumping off her since Dad, Nathanael and G.W. delivered the helm.

Dad was kind enough to design this piece with a door that opens so that I can easily turn the lights on and off, turn the night-time music on, and change the sheets. Not to mention check on the things that Jade likes to hide around and in the pirate ship, were it sea worthy, it wouldn't have a prayer of floating with all the items that boy likes to hide in her hull!

It's been a lot of fun working on this whole project with my family and with Jade.  For his birthday, Uncle Nathanael, gave him two more packages of stars to go on the ceiling.  I had Jaeden help me put them up since he can easily reach the ceiling by standing on this new deck.  I instructed him to put the star in corner of the ceiling, he looked at me, frowned and asked sadly, "What did the star do wrong momma?".  Ha!  Needless to say that is the only corner of his room without a star in it!

Once I finish the quilt (I'll show it in a post when it's done - and yes mom, I finally started it!), this room will be done and it will be time to move on to Rayne's.  I'm sure it will be about the time that she's ready to move out of the crib...just a heads up dad - I'm thinking princesses and dragons... :)

Arrgghh!
kcgnome

...and three years later...

I don't love my husband like I used to.


I am so grateful that this realization came now, as we begin our fourth year of marriage.  It would have been such a waste to have continued on without realizing the way I feel, because I don't love him like I used to...


...I love him so much more.


Three years later and I've never been happier.  We've worked through a lot of problems and misunderstandings.  We've definitely had our share of downs in the whole up and down roller coaster that relationships can be.   There were times that I wanted to throw the towel in and cut my losses.  There were times I screamed, and times I cried, and times I felt so alone.  


We've learned to talk, to not place blame, to work together.  We trust each other and that is more valuable to me than anything we've ever fought about.  I feel as though we've become a partnership, united against anything the world can throw at us.  He is my safety, I turn to him first and he is always there when no one else is.  


I spent so much time believing that he didn't care; that trivial things were more important.  I didn't realize how much he noticed, how well he knows me.  He catches me off guard with his clever insights into my heart and each time he does happiness bubbles up inside of me.  


It feels as though I've walked through a fog covering us and it was made of our shortcomings and we have helped each other out of it.  It amazes me how much time I spend thinking about him during the day and how just hearing his voice helps me feel comforted when I've had a difficult time at work.  Seeing his email address pop up in my inbox makes me smile.  


I'm so grateful that I realize these things now so that I can spend all the rest of my life appreciating all the things he means to me.  I don't want to forget to keep fighting for us.  I don't want to forget how me makes me feel right now.  I just want to remember that I don't like him like I used to, I love him so much more!


kcgnome  

Moments as Markers

We are our the sum of our experiences, perhaps that is why we use moments as markers along our mortal journey.  They may seem insignificant at the time but become vastly life changing and for those familiar with our story it is an easy way to identify a location, emotional state or explanation as to where we are now.  Before the fire... When I still lived with...  After I had my first baby... All events that vastly change the direction or focus of our lives. Some are good, some are challenging, some are heartbreaking. 

Some will forever be more significant than others.

I have had quite a few markers in recent years.  Meeting my husband and his two wonderful children, the birth of our first child, our marriage, the purchase of our first home, the birth of my daughter, turning the big 3-0 later this month.  But for a moment it's an older, very worn, phrase I'd like to write about.

Before Ryan died...

I can't tell you how many times my poor husband has had to hear this cross my lips.  He is wonderful about it and never asks me to stop talking about him, for which I am very grateful.  He must see this well of grief that lives inside of me and understands that with each bucket of memories I pull up the grief subsides a little bit.  Sometimes I fear that it is never ending.  There are moments that I am caught unaware and a scent, a glance, a hint will take me closer to the past than I was prepared for and the tears will sting my eyes and sadness grips my heart like a fist.

For the last few months I seem to be circling back.  Events and decisions have taken me back to places we used to frequent and for the last few weeks I have been absolutely haunted by unbidden memories.  Most of them have me smiling, how could I not?  Loss and loneliness penetrate them all, how could it not?  

Ryan is such a large influence on who I am that there is no memory that wouldn't leave me feeling alone.  He was part of a larger group of friends that saw me through those difficult high school years that had it not been for them I loathe to think about where I would be today.  They all helped to shape and mold who I became and I still carry them fondly in my heart though it has been years since I've seen many of them.  Paths seemed to diverge after Ryan died.

For me Ryan was charisma, he was compassion, he was my friend.  We would talk and write and ponder late into many nights.  We would sit quietly together, no words spoken, and be completely comfortable.  He was untamed, passionate and completely deluded, but when he laughed there was nothing more needed to convince me of the sanity of his musings.  Only later, usually when we were in trouble, did the spell break and reality glimmer momentarily.  

My meager words can not begin to describe the enchantment that he wove.  I could believe anything he told me, no matter how many times I'd been burned.  Admittedly, I see the past through rose colored glasses.  I chose to forget much.  There were darker times, moments, memories, but I chose not to dwell on them.  There are things I wish I could do again, there are things I wish never happened.  I suppose wishing is wasting though.

He has been on my mind so much recently, I ran into his mom a few weeks ago.  We talked about many things and she reminded me how much he loved me.  Sometimes I think I forget.  I still need validation from a dead man.  Maybe it's because each day I'm reminded of how much I miss him but like today there is no one to tell it to.  


My religious beliefs differ from his, but I believe that I will see him again.  I am confident in this.  I can't wait to hug him and have him throw his head back in laughter and hear his voice again.  It is fading from my memory.  


I miss him profoundly, I hope that he stops in from time to time and checks in on me. I hope that he sees how happy my family makes me and where I am going in my life.  I hope that he knows that I wish I could introduce him to my children so that they could be wrapped up in his spell too.  I hope that he knows how much I love him and how much of a great and lasting influence he had on me before Ryan died.

With love,
kcgnome

The Point of No Return!

WARNING: This is a post about weight, so if you don't want to read, feel free to move on.

Today I reached the point of no return.  I have always struggled with my weight and I don't mean a mere 10-15 pounds.  No, I have always been quite large.  As a child I would run around with the other kids, eat the same stuff for lunch and I would always be heavier.  Nothing has changed.


My teenage years were hell.  Not only was I fat, I was smart too, double doomsday.  I had no chance.  The worst part was dating and boys.  They would all tell me how much they loved having me as a friend, but that they just weren't attracted to me.  It turned out all right, but it was rough.


I hovered around the mid-high 200s for most of my young adult life.  I focused on the trade-offs - big boobs.  Well, one marriage, two pregnancies (with full blown toxemia) and a high-stress job, and those 200s are a thing of the past.


I've done the crash diets, the gym memberships and the healthy eating.  Each time I find a reason to stop.  So what made today different?  I went to the doctor.


My knee has been giving me trouble for a few weeks now.  Severe pain and it feels like my knee cap is popping off!  Well, as it turns out that's pretty much whats happening.  The knee cap is sliding to the outside of my leg.  My ortho doc showed me the x-rays - it's pretty severe.  So, the cure - lose weight.  I have to hand it to Dr. Jackson, he was super nice and tried to be delicate in telling me - but anyone that knows me knows I'd rather cut the shit and get to the point.  So, lose weight.


I'm not quite ready to post the exact amount that I weigh.  But, I can say this, a few weeks ago I was at the highest I've ever been - today, I'm down 8 pounds.  Not much considering that my current number is in the 300s, but it's a start and I take consolation in the fact that it was going down before I met with the doc.  I'll post the exact number -that I will NEVER WEIGH AGAIN, after I'm under 200lbs (that's also the magic number that as soon as I hit, my dear husband has agreed to let me get a tattoo!)  But, if I'm cutting through all the bull-shit, the truth is I can do a lot better.


I know there isn't a magic cure.  It's the same thing we've been hearing for a long time now - diet & exercise.  The really good news, for me, is that I have a very supportive husband that is always delicate and sensitive when it comes to this issue.  I think I should take back what I said - when it comes to him I want him to be delicate and sensitive - It might not make sense, but there it is. I also have good friends at work (luv ya Deb!) and good friends at home (luvs to the Nina). Other good news - tonight I opted for the wheat bread and I went to the gym and exercised for half an hour.  I know it isn't that much, but the knee started popping out, so I'm easing into it. I did stretches and ran a mile on the elliptical (15 minutes) - boy am I out of shape (obviously!)!  


It's a start though. 


I'll raise this glass of water to that.


Cheers!


kcgnome 

Confessions of an Absent Washer-Woman

Laundry - the bane of my existence.  


Truly, I hate laundry more than most things.  It is the one chore that can achieve no satisfaction.  It is never complete.  Not really any way.  If you dust a room, it is done; if you vacuum the floor, it ends; if you repaint, you run out of wall; if you wash the dishes, they dry and can be put away.  With laundry, unless you strip everyone naked, IT NEVER ENDS!!!


I despise laundry so much that if I could trade my first finger for laundry always magically being done, I would do it.  And if I didn't, I would have spent so much time weighing the points that it would be a testament itself as to how much I hate laundry.


So last weekend, with dread and a heavy heart, I bundled up all the pending laundry and took it to the laundry mat.  22 loads of laundry, no that is not a typo, 22 loads and 4 & 1/2 hours later I returned with everything clean and dry.  I even sat down and folded it.  It took until the next morning to finish and put it all away, but it did get done!


Here we are a week later - one load is in the washer & one in the dryer.  Other than the clothes that people are wearing it is done.  I'm going to try and stay on top of it this time.  


But have I mentioned....
                                                         .....I hate laundry!!!


kcgnome

It's a Pirate's Life for Me!

The Captain of the Ship Dreamer's Revenge

Boots.  Before he was even born, my son was destined to become a pirate.  Dad started calling him Boots (in reference to 'Boot-Strap Bill') while I was pregnant because I hadn't picked a name yet.   Once he was born with beautifully bright red hair, he became William the Red.  That's not his name of course, just his pirate one.  Though I did almost legally change his name to add William.

Before long, with mom's encouragement, he was wearing pirate bandannas and playing with plastic swords.  Not much has changed.  When I mentioned that I needed to buy him a bed and convert the toddler bed he was using back into a crib for the baby that was on the way, it was only natural for dad to suggest making a pirate ship.  Usually I would laugh it off and start shopping but the sparkle in his eyes stopped me.

And so the ship building began...

After several different drafts and visit's to IKEA's website to change the size of the mattress, the garage was officially converted to a ship yard.  For the next several months (including the cold winter ones) most weekends were spent constructing a ship.  Dad, Mom, Stuart, Nathanael and G.W. did the most work (poor mates!) and my little Jade would come home talking of nothing but "going to the tool store".

The Dreamer's Revenge approached time for her maiden voyage and I began preparations on the pirate bedroom - that meant bring on the paint!  I finally decided to do his room very basic - the ocean, sky and an island.  With working a full time job and four kids it took a lot longer than I expected but we finally finished.  

Then came the decor.  I picked several images that I wanted around his room and painted them to look like they were involved with the room.  For the most part I am happy with them.  The real challenge came in the form of the dresser.

My husband wanted an old ugly dresser to go in Jade's room.  With an impressive pirate ship on it's way that sure wasn't happening!  (You can see the old dresser in the background below).  I started looking online for ways to paint it and came across the cutest dresser.   Unfortunately, I didn't have the cash ($2500) for the dresser, so I painted my own version of it.  

So far, everything has come together beautifully to make Jade's room a place he will love.  The ship isn't quite done yet.  She has one more piece to go on the back to make her complete.  Hopefully dad leaves a way to get it into his room this time as the ship herself had to be taken apart to fit in the doorway (guess I won't be moving any time in the near future!).  

More than just creating a bedroom, I'm very grateful for the time that I was able to spend with my parents working on this project.  Some of my very favorite memories are working in the garage with my dad.  It must be why I love the smell of the wood right after it's been sawed through, the satisfaction of pounding in a nail and even the smell of the stain as I brushed it across the planks of the ship.  Perhaps it explains why I'm happiest when I'm creating or destroying.  

Thank you mum and dad for taking the time to share these moments with my children as well.   It has been so rewarding to have them see the satisfaction of doing something with your hands and following through on an idea.  They can say that they helped to build the pirate ship and I am beyond grateful for the time you spent with them.  

I think that no matter what, the garage will always be one of my favorite rooms in the house.

Aarrgh!!

kcgnome

My happy Pirate!

Cut Me Down to Size

I think from the moment I first took a breath I've been my daddy's girl.  My mum likes to remind me how I would cry until he walked through the front door and then it was all smiles and giggles for my main man.  Though there were times that I swore I hated him, not much has really changed.  He still holds my heart and I turn to him when it's aching.  
My mums a bit of a different story. While dad and I are in sync, my mum and I are trying to talk in different languages.  I tend to me stubborn, willful and defiant, she on the other hand is reserved and quiet.  We are both passionate - just about different things.  Despite our differences, I love her deeply.

She raised me well and I am a better person for having been her daughter.  She had the patience to teach me to read, something that has brought me great enjoyment, and she taught me to sew, cook and to love myself.  I have so many things to thank her for.

Recently I watched her cry and I thought I would break.

I know that we grow from adversity.  It is a necessary and simple, though difficult, part of life.  I've heard it be compared to a rosebush.  If a rosebush is not pruned it will cease to bloom.  Instead it will send out shoots and continue to grow thorny tendrils.  When cut back, the rosebush will produce delicate flowers of fragrant beauty.  But what happens when the snipping doesn't stop?

It is easy to put someone down so that we feel better about ourselves.  It is easy to lash out at another and blame them for our own short comings.  It is easy to pick on someone weak so that we feel powerful.   So often we are consumed with our own devises, our own longings and our own desires.  We become blind to the feelings and needs of others.  How often do we consider those that are hurt by our selfish behavior?  How often do we end up blaming them instead of looking at ourselves as the source of our pain?

I have seen my mum cry too much.  I have seen the look of shocked hurt spread across her face too many times.  I am ashamed to say that I have been the cause of that pain on more than a few occasions.  Though I didn't cause it this time, it affected me as though I had.  I remembered so many things that I said and did to her in my stubborn defiance.  The problem is that it isn't just her.  I've been mean to so many people just to make myself feel better.  In my great need to feel important, I've torn a wide path of hurt.  It saddens me that it's taken this long for me to realize it.

I can't take back the things that I've done and I realize that a blanket apology doesn't erase the hurt.  Instead, I am going to cut myself down to size.  The next time I feel like lashing out at someone else with a mean remark or a snide comment, I will instead turn the pruners on myself.  I will still be bold and fierce, but not with the purpose of tearing anyone else down.  There is enough pain, I don't want to be part of it. 

Maybe it will help someone bloom.

Mum, I love you.

kcgnome