Already missing Summer...
Monday, November 29, 2010
Christmas Cards
Seeing as yesterday we put our tree up, I thought it was the perfect time to take Christmas card pictures.
What I learned is, with kids, a 1/60 shutter speed is not at all fast enough. Especially in low-light conditions. I ended up having to set up a lamp with a huge piece of white paper behind it and still, they stink...
Now to decide, what photo's, what card, and where to get them made.
What I learned is, with kids, a 1/60 shutter speed is not at all fast enough. Especially in low-light conditions. I ended up having to set up a lamp with a huge piece of white paper behind it and still, they stink...
Now to decide, what photo's, what card, and where to get them made.
Shutterfly is currently offering free Christmas cards to bloggers! Can you believe that? So of course I am hoping to get those ones, the card choices are gorgeous! So many options, many you can add way more than one photo!
These are a a few of the cards I am interested in since I still have so many photo's I want to use, including a photo of the kitty, or try to get one of Tom and I, I just know I need to get these done and here before the 12th!
SO MANY CHOICES!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Us parents need to hug our children more often. Tell them how much we love them, how much they mean to us, how grateful we are to have them in our lives more often. After this afternoon, I can no longer understand how some parents, myself included sometimes, can take their children for granted.
I experienced the most frightening 5 minutes ever this afternoon. Stuck feeling heartbroken, upset, angry with myself, and yet also so grateful it was just 5 minutes and even more so, so grateful other people, complete strangers, men, women, and children, were able to come to my aid.
This afternoon, I lost my son. As we were re-entering the Town Green, the group we were with including myself, and two younger children stopped at the Christmas tree as it was going to be lit soon. Thomas kept walking. As soon as we got the three strollers lined up, I did my usually counting of the children, coming up short by one. That one was Thomas.
I immediately asked if he went off with a few others to the obstacle course. No one knew. I ran over their and those people has not seen him. Pure panic set in. With out a care who heard, I began screaming, "Thomas" as loud as I could. Immediately, an older man asked me what he was wearing, what he looked like, and his age. More and more people asked as I searched the crowd, screaming for my son. Tears began streaming down my face, just as they are right now as these short 5 minutes replay in my mind again. Within moments many others were searching for my precious baby boy.
Just as soon as the panic set in, there he was. In a police officers arms. "Is this your son?" he started to ask, but before he could finish I had snatched Thomas out of the officers arms thanking him over and over again. I ran my hand down Thomas' cheek, I hugged him and kissed him, and told him how much I loved him. I told him how frightened I was and how glad I was to see him. Then he began crying, "I didn't know which way you went, Mommy!"
He told me he told some kids he lost his mommy, and needed a policeman, something we have gone over before. Just as one mother was going to the mic to make an announcement Thomas had told the policeman my name, his, and our address and phone number.
As Thomas and I walked back to the group we were with, who were watching Collin and Bailey, person after person came up to us, so happy Thomas and I found each other. Strangers hugged us. I thanked each person for helping me, and just held on to Thomas so very tightly. I did not want to let him go.
I hope this scare is enough to remind others, that a child getting separated from his or her parents in a crowd can happen to anyone. Even a so-called "helicopter parent" who is constantly keeping their children within an arms reach, the parent who is always telling their children to stay close.
Please, fellow parents, teach your child what to do if they ever get lost. Teach them to search for a peer or someone in uniform. Teach them their full names, your full names, address, and your cell phone number. Please.
Though he was only gone for 5 minutes, those 5 minutes were long enough for us to lose each other and anything could have happened in such a large crowd at dusk.
And please, keep your faith in people. Though it doesn't always seem it, most people are willing to help, offer a hand, scream out a child's name, and be just as happy as the parent in distress, when the lost child is found.
As for me, I am just so grateful for the help I received and to have my son here with me.
Don't ever take your children for granted, in a split second they can be gone, and many others are not found. Give those children extra hugs and cuddles. Let them have that sweet when they ask and it's still hours until dinner. Let them run with others. Let them have fun. And have fun with them. Before we all know it they will be too old to enjoy the kisses and hugs and I love yous. They will be too old to play with us. Enjoy those babies, I know I will.
I experienced the most frightening 5 minutes ever this afternoon. Stuck feeling heartbroken, upset, angry with myself, and yet also so grateful it was just 5 minutes and even more so, so grateful other people, complete strangers, men, women, and children, were able to come to my aid.
This afternoon, I lost my son. As we were re-entering the Town Green, the group we were with including myself, and two younger children stopped at the Christmas tree as it was going to be lit soon. Thomas kept walking. As soon as we got the three strollers lined up, I did my usually counting of the children, coming up short by one. That one was Thomas.
I immediately asked if he went off with a few others to the obstacle course. No one knew. I ran over their and those people has not seen him. Pure panic set in. With out a care who heard, I began screaming, "Thomas" as loud as I could. Immediately, an older man asked me what he was wearing, what he looked like, and his age. More and more people asked as I searched the crowd, screaming for my son. Tears began streaming down my face, just as they are right now as these short 5 minutes replay in my mind again. Within moments many others were searching for my precious baby boy.
Just as soon as the panic set in, there he was. In a police officers arms. "Is this your son?" he started to ask, but before he could finish I had snatched Thomas out of the officers arms thanking him over and over again. I ran my hand down Thomas' cheek, I hugged him and kissed him, and told him how much I loved him. I told him how frightened I was and how glad I was to see him. Then he began crying, "I didn't know which way you went, Mommy!"
He told me he told some kids he lost his mommy, and needed a policeman, something we have gone over before. Just as one mother was going to the mic to make an announcement Thomas had told the policeman my name, his, and our address and phone number.
As Thomas and I walked back to the group we were with, who were watching Collin and Bailey, person after person came up to us, so happy Thomas and I found each other. Strangers hugged us. I thanked each person for helping me, and just held on to Thomas so very tightly. I did not want to let him go.
I hope this scare is enough to remind others, that a child getting separated from his or her parents in a crowd can happen to anyone. Even a so-called "helicopter parent" who is constantly keeping their children within an arms reach, the parent who is always telling their children to stay close.
Please, fellow parents, teach your child what to do if they ever get lost. Teach them to search for a peer or someone in uniform. Teach them their full names, your full names, address, and your cell phone number. Please.
Though he was only gone for 5 minutes, those 5 minutes were long enough for us to lose each other and anything could have happened in such a large crowd at dusk.
And please, keep your faith in people. Though it doesn't always seem it, most people are willing to help, offer a hand, scream out a child's name, and be just as happy as the parent in distress, when the lost child is found.
As for me, I am just so grateful for the help I received and to have my son here with me.
Don't ever take your children for granted, in a split second they can be gone, and many others are not found. Give those children extra hugs and cuddles. Let them have that sweet when they ask and it's still hours until dinner. Let them run with others. Let them have fun. And have fun with them. Before we all know it they will be too old to enjoy the kisses and hugs and I love yous. They will be too old to play with us. Enjoy those babies, I know I will.
Snapshot Saturday
Been a while since I did one huh?
9 desserts for 13 people! And I only had 1.5 slices myself! Not too shabby since I usually have that many of EACH pie!
9 desserts for 13 people! And I only had 1.5 slices myself! Not too shabby since I usually have that many of EACH pie!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thomas is Thankful for...
After explaining Thanksgiving to my 5 year old and telling him what I was Thankful for, I asked him if he was thankful for.
These are his answers:
"I am thankful...
...that we have a sister...
...for food in my belly...
...that I can take pictures...
...that we have actricity... (electricity)
...for games to play on the wii, gameboy, DS, and pooter... (computer)
...toys...
...that I can go to school...
...that I can take the bus...
...for the cool new water fountain on our sink...
...for my T.V. in my room, and my movies...
...that we can fall down...AAAGGHHH...so we can fall backwards into a swimming pool 'cuz some people like that...
... for chalk, and moon dough, and all the arts & crafts...
...that I'm starting ta' learn ta' read...
...for the van so we can go places, and for toy cars and remote control cars to play with...
...that we live in a house... (apartment)
...for the trash too, so we can throw stuff out."
I asked him if that was all he was thankful for, and his response melted my heart.
"Oh yeah! I'm thankful for my mommy, and daddy, and bru'der, and Bailey too."
I'm thankful for you too kid, even if you are more thankful for your sister than anyone else in the family. (See the 1st one)
Even if you prefer to be the photographer in our family now and only give me grumpy faces when I want to take your picture..
These are his answers:
"I am thankful...
...that we have a sister...
...for food in my belly...
...that I can take pictures...
...that we have actricity... (electricity)
...for games to play on the wii, gameboy, DS, and pooter... (computer)
...toys...
...that I can go to school...
...that I can take the bus...
...for the cool new water fountain on our sink...
...for my T.V. in my room, and my movies...
...that we can fall down...AAAGGHHH...so we can fall backwards into a swimming pool 'cuz some people like that...
... for chalk, and moon dough, and all the arts & crafts...
...that I'm starting ta' learn ta' read...
...for the van so we can go places, and for toy cars and remote control cars to play with...
...that we live in a house... (apartment)
...for the trash too, so we can throw stuff out."
I asked him if that was all he was thankful for, and his response melted my heart.
"Oh yeah! I'm thankful for my mommy, and daddy, and bru'der, and Bailey too."
I'm thankful for you too kid, even if you are more thankful for your sister than anyone else in the family. (See the 1st one)
Even if you prefer to be the photographer in our family now and only give me grumpy faces when I want to take your picture..
This Thanksgiving I am so very thankful to have my children here with me, my loving husband, the roof over our heads, the food in our cupboards and fridge, the clothes on our backs, the items we have, and everything else we take for granted each and every day.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Way Back When-sday! (A wedding!)
It just hit me. I don't think I ever shared my wedding pictures here. Not that they are all that great. All taken with regular old fashioned one click film camera's. I still deeply regretting not having budgeted a wedding photographer. It is heart breaking to know I have no nice formal photographs from my wedding. It also stinks I don't remember all that much.
The few bits and pieces I do remember:
The Hubs repeating my vows after he had already said his and the JP, him, and I giggling.
My father drove me to the hall we were wed in, I was in the backseat. As we were pulling in front of the venue, my father and Made of Honor, my sister, started screaming at me to get down. Hubs was in the parking lot. I looked right at him and didn't recognize him. For a man who does not dress nicely at all, he looked amazing in his tux. The love had felt prior to that 1st moment I saw him at our wedding couldn't compare to the amount of love and lust I had at that exact moment.
Before my father and I could walk down the aisle we were both crying. Happy tears of course, but yes, we were both blubbering babies. And to think, we had just told my mother not to cry!
My ring bearer refused to walk down the aisle and his mother ruined the outfit we bought her by covering it with a black and white coat even my mother in law wouldn't wear. (my sister in law owns nothing nice, let alone formal)
My father in law, looked so handsome. I had never seen him "dressed up" before. He is such a sweet, caring, funny, weird man and before this day I didn't realize how much the hubs was like his father. He really is. In a good way.
Our first dance, to Led Zeplins "Thank You" was so awkward! Hubs and I do not dance. Just going in circles for what seemed like forever with everyone staring was so, so strange. And that is a long song!
Dancing with my father to "Butterfly Kisses" (Of course, what else) was actually much more relaxed. We laughed, we cried, he told me he was sorry for not being a good father to my siblings and I. That was the first day he really spoke to me about my soon to be first born. I will cherish that conversation forever.
After the wedding, Tom and I were supposed to find a hotel along route 1, then head into New York City in the late morning. We ended up getting lost and finding the "Rodeway Inn" around 4 am, after 6 hours of driving. Mind you, to get anywhere in our state takes less than two hours in traffic. This was 10 pm to 4 am! It was an over priced cheap motel.
We didn't have money for a real honeymoon. At all, as we were saving for Thomas' birth. We went to a NYY baseball game. It was also Mother's Day. I got a card for mother's day that year though I was only 5 months pregnant.
When looking back at the pictures of our wedding day, while it does upset me they're not the greatest pictures, they do show the happiness the hubs and I felt that day. Even if we are arguing and fighting about the most mundane things, looking back on the photographs from our "pre-children" days, especially our wedding pictures instantly reminds me why I am here with him right now. Looking at each photograph over the past ten and a half years I see so much love, happiness, and fun.
The few bits and pieces I do remember:
The Hubs repeating my vows after he had already said his and the JP, him, and I giggling.
My father drove me to the hall we were wed in, I was in the backseat. As we were pulling in front of the venue, my father and Made of Honor, my sister, started screaming at me to get down. Hubs was in the parking lot. I looked right at him and didn't recognize him. For a man who does not dress nicely at all, he looked amazing in his tux. The love had felt prior to that 1st moment I saw him at our wedding couldn't compare to the amount of love and lust I had at that exact moment.
Before my father and I could walk down the aisle we were both crying. Happy tears of course, but yes, we were both blubbering babies. And to think, we had just told my mother not to cry!
My ring bearer refused to walk down the aisle and his mother ruined the outfit we bought her by covering it with a black and white coat even my mother in law wouldn't wear. (my sister in law owns nothing nice, let alone formal)
My father in law, looked so handsome. I had never seen him "dressed up" before. He is such a sweet, caring, funny, weird man and before this day I didn't realize how much the hubs was like his father. He really is. In a good way.
Our first dance, to Led Zeplins "Thank You" was so awkward! Hubs and I do not dance. Just going in circles for what seemed like forever with everyone staring was so, so strange. And that is a long song!
Dancing with my father to "Butterfly Kisses" (Of course, what else) was actually much more relaxed. We laughed, we cried, he told me he was sorry for not being a good father to my siblings and I. That was the first day he really spoke to me about my soon to be first born. I will cherish that conversation forever.
After the wedding, Tom and I were supposed to find a hotel along route 1, then head into New York City in the late morning. We ended up getting lost and finding the "Rodeway Inn" around 4 am, after 6 hours of driving. Mind you, to get anywhere in our state takes less than two hours in traffic. This was 10 pm to 4 am! It was an over priced cheap motel.
We didn't have money for a real honeymoon. At all, as we were saving for Thomas' birth. We went to a NYY baseball game. It was also Mother's Day. I got a card for mother's day that year though I was only 5 months pregnant.
When looking back at the pictures of our wedding day, while it does upset me they're not the greatest pictures, they do show the happiness the hubs and I felt that day. Even if we are arguing and fighting about the most mundane things, looking back on the photographs from our "pre-children" days, especially our wedding pictures instantly reminds me why I am here with him right now. Looking at each photograph over the past ten and a half years I see so much love, happiness, and fun.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Cucumber and Chicken Salad
Whenever we have left over chicken breast I like to make chicken salad for the next day's lunch. Each time it tastes different and is made differently depending on what fresh produce and spices we have on hand at the time.
This time I actually measured everything I used. You must try this! I am eating it right now and there is a huge party in my tummy!
Oh and the best part of homemade chicken salad: So yummy with diced celery and bell peppers (red, green and orange really brighten it up making it look amazing!), also, crushed almonds!
This time I actually measured everything I used. You must try this! I am eating it right now and there is a huge party in my tummy!
1/2 C shredded/diced left over chicken breast
1/2 C diced cucumber, I cut our the centers as I do not like the seeds.
1 pinch of each of the following: sea salt, ground black pepper, garlic powder, parsley.
1 TBSP Hellman's mayo
Mix with fork.
Total Calories: 216
I toasted two slices of Weight Watcher's 100% Whole Wheat (Thank's to WIC) and put half on each pieces of toast. Add in a bottle of water and 10 baby carrots, cut long ways into 4 pieces w/ 1.5 tbsp of Italian Dressing and you have a great lunch containing protein, veggies, and good carbs, plus your water! All for under 500 calories! Next time I will only use half of the chicken and cucumber salad and once slice of toast as I am currently over full! Whoa! Me? Over full on a lunch of just 439 calories? Crazy!
Now seriously, Doesn't this just look absolutely delish?
(Notice, this is after I had already eaten one slice of wheat covered in this yummy goodness!)
Oh and the best part of homemade chicken salad: So yummy with diced celery and bell peppers (red, green and orange really brighten it up making it look amazing!), also, crushed almonds!
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Thirteen Months
Yesterday marked the thirteenth month she has been apart of our whole family.
Thirteen months ago, I fell so deeply in love with my sweet Bailey.
Thirteen months ago, I had no clue what she'd be like at this age.
Thirteen months ago, I had no clue how much I'd change.
Thirteen months ago, I looked into her eyes for the very time.
Thirteen months ago, she was really mine.
Mine to nurture.
Mine to care for.
Mine to hold.
Mine to live for.
All mine.
For the past 13 months, Bailey has done nothing but light up my life.
She is one of the 3 reasons I wake each day. She is my reason for not screwing up my life again.
She is one of the greatest reasons I have stayed clean the past 25.5 months.
She is the only girl who holds my heart.
She is my heart and soul.
My baby girl.
She is my Daughter.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
The Blame Game
We all place blame. It's not our fault we are late. It's not our fault the house is dirty. It's not our fault the kids are misbehaving. Etc, etc, etc.
Last week when at the monthly group I have to attend to keep my bottle privileges, the topic was Responsibility. One thing covered was taking responsibility for our addictions. I learned I am not the only one still holding a grudge, but not everyone else is letting it consume them.
While I am completely aware it was my choice to let someone stick a needle in my arm, I still can't help but place blame. I don't blame her for being willing to do so when I asked. I blame her for entering my life again. I blame him for bringing her back into our lives.
See, Tom was using Heroin when we 1st began dating. He became clean 4 month into our relationship due to a prison sentence. When he was released he stayed clean. For 8 years. In that 8 years friendships ended harshly with old friends. One of those old friends had turned to Heroin. After things disintegrated it took a while for the hubs and I to get over the problems it caused for our then brand new marriage. It hurt when he let her back into our lives. I asked him to choose and he wouldn't stating that she needed us at the time. This was right at the time my grandmother had her 1st heart attack and was hospitalized. Right at the time I had just had Collin. I tried so hard to make the best of her being back in our lives. I am very good at pretending to be a friend to someone I hate. I don't like people to think I don't like them. Whoever it is. Plus I give way too many chances. After my lovely suicide attempt her and the hubs had me committed. During this whole few months she had been using and I had been so afraid of the hubs slipping back to his old ways. Needless to say I was miserable during my week in the nut house. Saying and doing whatever I had to, to get out. Every time I called home she was there. Helping take care of my children. I missed my son's. I missed my husband. And I was worried beyond belief that he was choosing this woman, who had hurt me so deeply before, over me. While I was in there we had received our tax return. I didn't learn this until money months later. They blew through the whole thing. Between me not being mentally stable, her having access to dope, and the hubs having all this extra cash on hand, despite us needing it as he was laid off, he went on a week long run. All while his wife was "trapped" in a psychiatric ward.
When I got out, something seemed off about him. Three days after I was released, I went to a court hearing with her. After court she went to "pick up". I offered to go with her. Something I refused to do before hand. When she pulled into a commuter parking lot and prepped everything I more stated it than asked, "He's using; isn't he?"
Then I started asking questions. What is the difference between smoking, snorting, and shooting up? Other than the needle, does the Heroin burn? She answered me but questioned why I was asking. Then I asked her if she'd share. She did. The moment she began to push that plunger was intense. It was only a small amount but I felt it go right up my left arm and distribute through out my body. As soon as I felt it reach my lower legs I barfed. Outside of having my children it was the best feeling I had ever felt. It was intense. And it started a downward spiral. Soon, my once every couple of days use, became a couple of times a day. Within a couple of weeks I could not go to work without it. As soon as I came home I needed it. I had such a love hate relationship with Heroin, her, and my husband for just over a month.
For a very long time I told everyone I started using before the hubs picked it up again. Very few people knew the truth. Until now. I am sick of holding secrets.
We had already lost our apartment and were just waiting for everything to become official before hand. The day we were moving into my parents home, my father called asking point blank if we were using. We denied it, asked him how he could believe a lying junkie over us? He claims he knew, but the day I came out and told him I needed help he was stunned. I hated her so much for snitching on us. How can she? Now I look back and that is something I am thankful for.
Yet, at the exact same time, how can I be thankful for her spilling the beans when it never would have happened in the first place had she not be in our lives? Had it not been for the hubs bringing her back into my home, he would never had used. Had I not been already in the deepest depression I had ever felt when he and she were using right under my nose, I would not have tried it. Had it not been for them, I would not be stuck on Methadone.
Hubs and I will start arguments over something like a fork being in the sink right after I start the dishwasher, and they always lead to our pasts. Neither of us can get over it. I can't get over him letting himself be around an addict. He can't get over not putting his family first. While I know he is remorseful, and she has apologized and we have all moved on for the most part, I still can't get it out of my head. I still can't stop playing this stupid blame game. I still blame both, her more so, for my addiction. I still have trouble taking complete responsibility for my use. I still feel ill when I see the photographs taken during that period. I still blame her for taking 6 months of my 2nd born's first year from me. Yes, I was there, but I wasn't. Had they not brought that stuff into my home, I wouldn't have nodded through an entire 6 months. I still continue to place the blame.
I do take responsibility for each and every bag I had shot up. I do not take responsibility for having the opportunity. I do not take the responsibility for feeling so alone that I thought it was the only way to have people by my side. I do not take responsibility for missing out on 6 months of my son's 1st year. I do not take responsibility for it nearly ending my marriage. I do not want to. I'm not ready yet.
I've read and been told numerous ways to get over this. Yet, all of them have the same consensus. One must want change to make change. "Change your train of thought" "Think about something else" "Meditate" "Take yourself away from the situation" etc etc etc. How can I do that when every single little disagreement the hubs and I have lead to the same argument of me blaming them? How can I do that, when I want to yell, "it's not all my fault!" to the entire world? How can I do that when I am still pointing fingers at both of them? How can I finally move on?
Last week when at the monthly group I have to attend to keep my bottle privileges, the topic was Responsibility. One thing covered was taking responsibility for our addictions. I learned I am not the only one still holding a grudge, but not everyone else is letting it consume them.
While I am completely aware it was my choice to let someone stick a needle in my arm, I still can't help but place blame. I don't blame her for being willing to do so when I asked. I blame her for entering my life again. I blame him for bringing her back into our lives.
See, Tom was using Heroin when we 1st began dating. He became clean 4 month into our relationship due to a prison sentence. When he was released he stayed clean. For 8 years. In that 8 years friendships ended harshly with old friends. One of those old friends had turned to Heroin. After things disintegrated it took a while for the hubs and I to get over the problems it caused for our then brand new marriage. It hurt when he let her back into our lives. I asked him to choose and he wouldn't stating that she needed us at the time. This was right at the time my grandmother had her 1st heart attack and was hospitalized. Right at the time I had just had Collin. I tried so hard to make the best of her being back in our lives. I am very good at pretending to be a friend to someone I hate. I don't like people to think I don't like them. Whoever it is. Plus I give way too many chances. After my lovely suicide attempt her and the hubs had me committed. During this whole few months she had been using and I had been so afraid of the hubs slipping back to his old ways. Needless to say I was miserable during my week in the nut house. Saying and doing whatever I had to, to get out. Every time I called home she was there. Helping take care of my children. I missed my son's. I missed my husband. And I was worried beyond belief that he was choosing this woman, who had hurt me so deeply before, over me. While I was in there we had received our tax return. I didn't learn this until money months later. They blew through the whole thing. Between me not being mentally stable, her having access to dope, and the hubs having all this extra cash on hand, despite us needing it as he was laid off, he went on a week long run. All while his wife was "trapped" in a psychiatric ward.
When I got out, something seemed off about him. Three days after I was released, I went to a court hearing with her. After court she went to "pick up". I offered to go with her. Something I refused to do before hand. When she pulled into a commuter parking lot and prepped everything I more stated it than asked, "He's using; isn't he?"
Then I started asking questions. What is the difference between smoking, snorting, and shooting up? Other than the needle, does the Heroin burn? She answered me but questioned why I was asking. Then I asked her if she'd share. She did. The moment she began to push that plunger was intense. It was only a small amount but I felt it go right up my left arm and distribute through out my body. As soon as I felt it reach my lower legs I barfed. Outside of having my children it was the best feeling I had ever felt. It was intense. And it started a downward spiral. Soon, my once every couple of days use, became a couple of times a day. Within a couple of weeks I could not go to work without it. As soon as I came home I needed it. I had such a love hate relationship with Heroin, her, and my husband for just over a month.
For a very long time I told everyone I started using before the hubs picked it up again. Very few people knew the truth. Until now. I am sick of holding secrets.
We had already lost our apartment and were just waiting for everything to become official before hand. The day we were moving into my parents home, my father called asking point blank if we were using. We denied it, asked him how he could believe a lying junkie over us? He claims he knew, but the day I came out and told him I needed help he was stunned. I hated her so much for snitching on us. How can she? Now I look back and that is something I am thankful for.
Yet, at the exact same time, how can I be thankful for her spilling the beans when it never would have happened in the first place had she not be in our lives? Had it not been for the hubs bringing her back into my home, he would never had used. Had I not been already in the deepest depression I had ever felt when he and she were using right under my nose, I would not have tried it. Had it not been for them, I would not be stuck on Methadone.
Hubs and I will start arguments over something like a fork being in the sink right after I start the dishwasher, and they always lead to our pasts. Neither of us can get over it. I can't get over him letting himself be around an addict. He can't get over not putting his family first. While I know he is remorseful, and she has apologized and we have all moved on for the most part, I still can't get it out of my head. I still can't stop playing this stupid blame game. I still blame both, her more so, for my addiction. I still have trouble taking complete responsibility for my use. I still feel ill when I see the photographs taken during that period. I still blame her for taking 6 months of my 2nd born's first year from me. Yes, I was there, but I wasn't. Had they not brought that stuff into my home, I wouldn't have nodded through an entire 6 months. I still continue to place the blame.
I do take responsibility for each and every bag I had shot up. I do not take responsibility for having the opportunity. I do not take the responsibility for feeling so alone that I thought it was the only way to have people by my side. I do not take responsibility for missing out on 6 months of my son's 1st year. I do not take responsibility for it nearly ending my marriage. I do not want to. I'm not ready yet.
I've read and been told numerous ways to get over this. Yet, all of them have the same consensus. One must want change to make change. "Change your train of thought" "Think about something else" "Meditate" "Take yourself away from the situation" etc etc etc. How can I do that when every single little disagreement the hubs and I have lead to the same argument of me blaming them? How can I do that, when I want to yell, "it's not all my fault!" to the entire world? How can I do that when I am still pointing fingers at both of them? How can I finally move on?
Monday, November 1, 2010
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