It wasn't so bad.....

turning thirty. I guess when it all comes down to it, the inevitable wrinkles are going to happen, and twenty-nine didn't feel all that much different. I can handle it. Looking back, although I find myself to be extremely insecure, I've handled a lot. We all have our troubles in life. I haven't overcome anything others haven't conquered in their brief thirty years on this earth, but I'd like to think that inspite of it all, I came out victorious. I've done well given my circumstances and culture I came from. Alcoholics and secret predators run rampant throughout my family, those who've come before me have taken years to get through the emotional torment and found a place of happiness, or contentment at least. Those that haven't are living what I'd like to call karma, and appropriately distributed I believe.

I think I've found my path, however sporadic or unstable as my life has been thus far, with all the wrong turns I've made, I'm right where I should be. In the bossom of my family and cherishing in the love we've created. My job is to nourish and care for the seeds I've planted in life and I'm doing that.

Funny thing about the esteem issues I mentioned, as hard as I am on myself, when it comes right down to it I can be proud of who I've become. Have I made my share of blunders and biffed it every now and again? BIG TIME!!! You just can't hold yourself accountable for your entire life. Forgiveness comes so easily when I'm forgiving other people. Forgiving myself could use some focus and attention. I can't hang onto to every bad thing I've allowed myself to do in desparation for acceptance and love. I will always be making new mistakes and will need some room within myself to account for those and correct and fine tune myself along the journey.

So anyway, it wasn't so bad.

The very best part......my heart gave me a necklace that reads, act as if what you do makes a difference. it does.

I'm freaking out

Sunday is my 30th birthday. I've been waiting for this day for the past year. Initially, I believed that turning 30 wouldn't bother me. It's not so much that I'm feeling bad about the new decade approaching, it's just the anticipation of the event that gets ya I think. Being 30 is no different than 29 really. It's just another year and hopefully full of hope and promise.

My twenties are like one big blurry dream. Closely resembling a blackout after a liter of Allen's Coffee Brandy. I left home and joined the Army at 20 years old. I met and married someone before my 22nd birthday, just after turning 24 I had a beautiful daughter. This was a special time for me and quickly passed me by. Before she turned 1 we moved to Pennsylvania, 6 months later we were moving to Maine. Once there, we moved two more times before we were in our first home that was all our own. We lived in this haven for 1 year before deciding to move to New York for my husbands graduate studies. We've been here barely a hair past 1 year and have moved once already since moving here. Luckily this was into our current home, one which I intend on living in at least 4 years. I've never lived in any home this entire decade more than 2 years. No wonder the decade felt so hurried and unstable. Each and every place we journeyed to was by choice, but it sure feels good to let the dust settle on our shoes before up and moving again.

My poor daughter will be traumatized by the time we're finished with all the moving. I know this is not our final destination and already it breaks my heart to think of the strong friendships she'll have. No matter what age you are, each relationship is valuable and important at that time in your life and saying good bye doesn't get easier the more you move and knowing this pain personally makes it even more difficult for me to inflict that loss on her.

Anyway, back to my 30th f'n birthday. I am freaking out and I'm thinking this weekend is going to be a tough one. On a lighter note, I was born on Johnny Cash's birthday, February 26th. I share my birth with the man in bleeping black. So, buck up Ropee, it's go time, put your party dress on and celebrate the rebirth your life is taking at this moment. Embrace your age and relish in all that comes with it, for with every silver hair comes a wisdom you once couldn't fathom. I wouldn't trade this for a million and one winning lottery tickets. Oh well, can't escape it, or cheat the system, might as well just sit back and enjoy the ride.

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

Gaaa! That's what Ellen say's when she begins her dialogue at the beginning of her show. I find that amusing and can relate to the feeling, release, if you will, that phrase would give someone. Gaaaaa! High pitched, near annoying, but totally funny Gaa!

Lately I feel very Gaa!! I don't know what to think, feel, do or enjoy. I am ready for winter to be over. I need to feel the sun's warmth on my face and sweat dripping from my nose as I'm weeding vegetable and flower gardens.

One thing I love about New York. The longer growing season. You were lucky in Maine to get your garden in by June and harvest to avoid the first frost in September. Here, I can go crazy by the end of April, early May. Harvest depends on weather patterns and what fronts are coming our way, but it's safe to say late October and you will still be reeping rewards of cold weather crops such as spinach and carrots.

I think I just have a large case of the winter blues......that and a minor lack of direction and focus as to what my next adventure will be.

Gaaaaa!!!

Hurry up Spring.

Remembering.....

Monday morning blahs....the girls are home from school today. After much resistance, I mustered enough energy to get busy and get a few things done. I started gathering laundry after a quick shower and was beginning to get into a groove.

One thing bothering me lately is the coat closet near the entry way. Games, crafts, coats, shoes, boots, you name it was crammed into that closet. I won't go into the boring details of it all, however, I did discover a little fanny pack that belongs to S's bike and remembered last spring.

A few months after relocating to New York we started to explore the town and find the fun places for kids to play outside. We were lucky to have a great park close by with playgrouds galore, children's garden area, picnic tables and intimate benches along the water for courting couples and of course moms and daughters. Around this wonderland was a two mile trail that was meant for running, biking, roller blading ect. S had just gotten her new bike on her birthday complete with her very own set of training wheels and a little pouch on the front. A fully equipped machine for any five year old girl with jelly beans and a helmet. She would ride around the park on the trail, jelly beans in pouch and I would walk along beside her. There were quarter mile markers all along the way and stretching stations. We would stop at every other one, sometimes every one and she would stretch and gas up her engine with those jelly beans she got from Easter. Her expressions were priceless as she drew her hands in the air and stretched her little shoulder muscles and legs. A memory worth remembering.

Inside the fanny pack I found inside that closet this morning had a little jellybean tucked away inside. I'm so glad to have these memories.

Significance of a Mommy

I am a stay at home Mother.....my existence is filled with cookie dough, baths, laundry and repairing boo boo's. Oh, there is more to my life than just scrapes and burnt cookies I guess. I also clean, take care of two other children for extra money, participate in events at school etc, etc....

I guess my question of the day is this. Why is it that this particular job makes a woman feel useless? Back in the day women didn't do anything but this. It's a thankless job, with no paid vacations or sick days. There is no start or finish, 7 days a week, work your fingers to the bone, hurry up with dinner already, "wanna do it" kinda job. If I do so much and I'm so valuable to the family why does it feel like I have accomplished nothing and will never be more than a maid doing my families bidding?

I hate the stigma attached to women who sacrifice their chance at a rewarding career to stay at home and raise their families. Is it assumed that our days are filled with soap operas and ice cream. Well.....you know what they say about assuming. Since it's not a glorified occupation a lot of women get lost and often feel like they aren't contributing. When I sit and think on all the things I accomplish in the course of a day I realize and acknowledge exactly what it is that I'm doing. All cleaning buckets and rubber gloves aside, I focus on what is done to ensure that my daugther is raised with values, goals, empathy for others, what it means to sacrifice one's self in order to better someone with less, or more if need be. I will always share my triumphs, my mistakes and all I have inside of me to arm her with the knowledge she needs to find contentment and happiness inspite of the harsh reality life brings to each and every one of us as we step out of the sheltered womb of childhood.

I question myself daily on the significance of my role. I wait to turn 30 and reflect on the woman I've grown into. I wonder what my life purpose is, when I am going to find what it is I need to accomplish, what was meant for me from the beginning. Through this thought process it occured to me. I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing. Children aren't something we just have because it's what most normal folk do. It's a commitment that we've made and I am doing it the way I think is best. I was given a gift and I'm cherishing her for every moment that it's worth. For every tear I wipe I get 5 smiles that make my heart melt. Everytime I apply a band aide to cut, big or small, I get a hug. Every meal I create I get "you're the best cooker ever!" (ok...not every meal!! hee hee) It may be a thankless job with no materialistic value placed upon it, but it's worth it.....every darn minute. When I think about all she'll accomplish in life I can be happy and know that I played a part in who she is, I molded her and cared for her and so many lives will be touched because of her.

I see myself in her, I see the little girl I was at one time. I wonder if life would have been different for me, where I'd be right now. I will not be one of those women who live their own dreams through their children but I can't help but think she has a fighting chance, a foundation I never had. Her dreams can be the reality I just couldn't/haven't quite grasped. Perhaps my healing will come through this little girl. I can share in her childhood and patch my own scars and let the past remain in the past and relish the present and hope for the future. Live in the moment.

Be My Valentine

What does Valentine mean to me? Certainly not what it meant 15 years ago. I remember the candy, cards, cute little stuffed teddy bears with affectionate love letters written on their tummies. When exactly does the meaning of love change for a person. When do you lose the knowledge you had as a young, bright, teenage wonder? I knew it ALL when I was 15, 16...ect. I was in love with a young man and my world crumbled when we fell apart. Then, in search of the missing link of my childhood, I resorted to an older man for the remaining teenage years. Finally, at the age of 20, a stroke of genius hit me and I moved on. I blew the dust off my wings and chose to fly away from my small town life to find a better home. Less than two years later I was in love yet again (though this time a much better choice) and walking down the isle to marry the man who later would father my child. We met, we blinked, we married. I have no idea who I was at that age, though, at the time had many ideas about who I was and who I'd become. I had no idea who he was at that age, though, I had explored every part of him my brain could comprehend at the time. We've grown up together and still growing as companions taking the same path in hopes we can grow old gracefully and watch our grandchildren give their parents hell.

Valentine's Day now means something very different to me. Every day is my Valentine's Day. I love him as much today as I did yesterday, if not more, and tomorrow I probably will love him just as much again. When I hate him, I still wouldn't be able to picture my life without him or give a moments thought to raising our child without him by my side.

I got so mad I moved my panties out one time....right into our guest bedroom. That was it for me. I was done. The next day I moved my panties back. I don't know why I chose my underwear.....to this day it makes me laugh out loud. Not relevant at all....but even the most loving relationships falter......a year of counseling and many talks later I never moved my panties out or even thought of going that far again.

I don't have butterflies anymore, but I feel empty when he's not here to tuck me in at night.
I don't cry if he wants to do something with someone else besides me, I am happy he has his individuality because I know how much mine means to me.
I don't second guess where I will be in 5 years, I know I won't be alone, whatever we do and wherever we go, it will always be with the other.
I'll never say no to a challenge or be too scared to take a risk as long as he is there with me. I'll even jump first if I have to.

He knows I'm scared of dogs, while walking he will take the side the dog is on for me. Even if the dog is smaller than my foot.

We act really stupid sometimes when we're alone together and laugh at how dumb the other is.

We say I love you more in one day than some do in an entire year.

We are best friends.

I miss the butterflies, but there is so much more to love than butterflies, candy, cards and cute teddy bears.

Waking up to your husband kissing your cheek and tucking you in before he leaves for work even after he's woken up to the same puffy eyes and tricked out hair for nearly a decade is priceless. I can be me.....100% flaws and all me.