Out of Hiding

I have had a couple of different blogs over the past few years. They were for my family, my friends, my kids. They also seemed like they were for me. Then I started taking a hard look and them, and I had to actually THINK about what to post. Never in my life have I been at a loss for words, but I felt myself sensoring my feelings, something you should never do in a blog. So this one? This one is for me. This one is for my kids. We are 3 of the handful of people that truly know my every thought and move, and I want to finally lay it on the line. I want to write how *I* write, how *I* feel, what's important to ME. I may step on some toes, and I'm sorry. If you don't like what I say, you probably shouldn't read many of the blogs I have on my blogroll either. Just a warning. So here I go. I'm outing myself.

I am a mother. Mama, mom, mommy, I answer to all of them. My daughter Kennedy is 7 (tomorrow!!), and she is a spitting image of me. People say she looks like me (though I don't see it). She talks like me, acts like me, and makes me laugh every day. She has an attitude that would rival any sixteen year old. She seems to get bigger every day. She's a girlie girl, unfortunately, but I buy hear jewelry, kids makeup and let her dress up in my high heels. We love our girl nights and I try to do something extra special with her when I can. My son, Wyatt, is 5 in a few weeks. He is ALL BOY. He likes to be dirty, always has food on his face, and likes to fart on me in bed when I'm laying on my back. His hand is down his pants constantly, he loves to wrestle, and he can throw a baseball further than his sister, which, really isn't that great, but you get the idea. My son loves me more than anything else in his life, and he is my protector.

I am a pet owner. We have 2 pets right now. Paco, our 5 month old rottweiler, and Sheba, our cat. We had a rottweiler that we had to put to sleep in December, and some days I still cry about it. His picture is still the one that comes up on my phone, I have him framed in my room, and his ashes are still waiting to be spread up in his beloved Swan Range. Paco is becoming an awesome dog, and Sheba is everything a cat should be. Snuggly at times, snobby at times, and always flips attitude to the dog. Until he runs her down and lays on her.

I am a daughter. And a dang good one. I find it ironic how parent/adult children interactions work. I look at some parent/adult children relationships, and admire the openness and connectedness I see. I love that the parents offer to take the grandchildren on a Saturday to the park. I love how overnights are a given at certain times and the adult child doesn't have to ask. Even though both parents work full time, they are still willing and able to set aside their interests, AT TIMES, and just hang with their grandchildren. My mom and I used to butt heads hardcore. I didn't like her, and I'm pretty sure she didn't like me. We have grown closer over the years, which I am thankful for. But I still feel like a child at times. Frowned upon. She makes me crazy sometimes when she asks a question and doesn't listen to the answer. And she knows that. But I am sure she could make a list of complaints about me as well. My dad and I have always been close. It has been a little different recently, but I still love him so much. My dad's arms were always the first I would think of when I was hurting. They always felt so good and strong and loving. I don't like how my dad thinks I have to agree with his every philosophy. He makes me feel inferior at times because I disagree with an opinion and he gives me the "dad look." You know which one I'm talking about. I try to be the best daughter I can be, and sometimes I just don't feel like it's enough.

I am a little sister. I love my sister so much. More than she will ever know. I admire her for many things. But it also seems like at times we have an obligatory relationship. If we weren't sisters, I'm not sure we would pick each other to be friends with. I'm actually pretty sure we wouldn't. And I know she would agree. Her best friend and I are about as opposite as can be, and probably want completely different things out of life. I wish my sister and I were closer, but there have definitely been times that have hampered that, on both of our ends.

I am an aunt. I love my niece and nephews more than I thought I could. They are like my own children, and I would do absolutely anything to help them. I know my sister would do the same for mine. I am so thankful that they are so different and I love each one of them differently, but the same. I don't get to see them enough, and it makes me cry sometimes. I found out years ago, before I had children, that one of my sister's friends would be their caretaker if anything happened to my sister and her husband. I was more heartbroken, I think, than I ever have been. To this day it hurts me. I'm sure I'm out of the running now, since I'm divorced and all, but I wish I could be. I love them so so much.

I am an ex-wife. And a pretty good one at that. I don't bitch at him, well, more than the average ex-wife, I don't take all his money, and I let the kids see him whenever they and he want. I never thought I would be divorced. There is a certain stigma that comes with being divorced, and surprisingly, it's mostly from family. You would think they would be the ones most proactive, but, sadly no. I feel like I'm fully over the hurt, shame, and guilt that comes with being divorced. It will be three years in a few months, and I have FINALLY shed all the layers that need to be shed. It's funny, the people in your life that judge you, talk behind your back and think you don't know, and just generally treat you like you're a second class citizen. It hurts at the time, but it's laughable now. I have no energy, or time, to spend on these people, and it is starting to show. It's a good place for me.

I am a friend. I am an acquaintance. I am an athlete, working to get back into shape. I am a best friend. I am hopelessly and safely in love with a man who it may not work out with. I am me. And I am so proud of my strength.