It's like...DAMNIT!

Okay, so yeah, I've been away for a long while. Upon review of my blog, it's been nearly exactly a year since I last wrote a posting.  A solid year.  Lots of things have changed, lots has remained the same, and some of it is just like, well, DAMNIT!  I was watching poetry slam tonight and one poem especially spoke to me, entitled, "It's like...DAMNIT!"  That short phrase sums up my life pretty well right now.

My Flowers are doing well. Although my little flower, Chrysanthemum, was recently diagnosed with Seizure Disorder.  That sucks, in a really bad kinda way.  She's on medication and doing quite well, but still.  I mean, DAMNIT!  Chrysanthemum loves to dance, and she takes two dance classes per week.  But she's a bit on the l-a-z-y side, so sometimes I have to literally push her little butt off the couch and turn off the episode of SpongeBob she has already watched a dozen + times.  She loves to ride her scooter outside, watch TV, and help me cook in the kitchen.  She hates school with a passion, but we're working on that vigorously. 

My big flower, Rose, is now wearing the exact same shoe size as me - an 11 to be exact.  That's tough for a ten year old.  Let me keep it real, wearing a size 11 is often hard for me and I'm grown and I have the resources to find decent shoes in hard-to-reach places.  She's a trooper, though.  She loves flip-flops, nail polish, and reading good books.  She's a bossy little thing, clearly taking after yours truly.

We've got a new family member.  His name is Emeril - yeah, like the chef.  He's a nearly all-black Morkie (Maltese + Yorkie mix), ten pounds, spoiled rotten, and bad as hell.  But SO much fun!  He takes my potty training efforts for the biggest joke ever, which is driving Marigold insane.  Actually, Emeril's very existence and residence in our home make him sick.  Emeril flunked out of puppy obedience training at PetSmart, through no fault of his own; his owner was simply too busy to get him to class every Saturday afternoon at 2:00.  That was a stupid idea to begin with - I knew I was too busy to see that through, but as usual, lack of time didn't stop me from trying!
Emeril and Marigold don't get along.  Well, actually, that's not exactly true.  Marigold refuses to interact with Emeril, choosing to pretend the dog doesn't exist.  Morkies are a lot like human people: they want to be talked to and included in the goings-on in a household.  Because Marigold refuses to interact with Emeril, and to be totally honest, I think Emeril is picking up on a lot of vibes coming from me directed at Marigold, Emeril barks at Marigold in a low, almost moaning type bark that says, "Why won't you talk to me? Why do you treat me as if I don't exist?"  I'm no dog whisperer, if I were, Emeril would've been potty trained long ago, but I still have a solid understanding of animal behavior (human and otherwise), and to be totally honest, I know what it's like to be ignored and how painful it can be.  Marigold won't let Emeril sleep in our bed and he doesn't want him sitting on the couch.  But, since I paid for two of our three couches, I let it be known that I get to make that decision, and DAMNIT, I enjoy Emeril's company on the couch, so Marigold can take his non-dog loving ass to the bank with that one.  Props to Marigold, he DID treat me and paid to have a fence built in our miniature backyard.  In typical fashion, Emeril doesn't like to be back there alone.  If I'm going to hang out with him, I might as well just walk him.  Which is what I do most days and nights, unless I'm really running late to get somewhere.  He usually won't go potty in the back yard anyway, he just scratches at the door asking to be let back in the house.  The Flowers always fall for it, let him in the house, then proceed to watch him pee and poop in his favorite spot on my carpet.  I've purchased a portable carpet cleaner and used it ONCE, but I think I need to use it more than bi-monthly in order for it to be effective.  I've resorted to bowls of vinegar in most corners and scrubbing with my homemade concoction made with carpet cleaner, vinegar, and baking soda.  It works when I KNOW where the pee has landed.  When I don't, it's not quite so effective and I come home to a house that smells like several puppies reside here, instead of just the one.

My marriage with Marigold is going through one hell of a transition.  I'm not sure what the future holds, but I can confirm that the man I married fifteen years ago has come and gone, and left in his wake someone whom I'm not sure I can remain living with.  Fifteen years DAMNIT!  I'm nearly at my wits end and sick to death of praying and crying, crying and praying.  I love my family so much.  It's an unfortunate fact that both Marigold and I both feel much more sadness and trepidation about dismantling our beautiful family than we do about dissolving our marriage.  Because we married so young, I was only 20, he was 23, it's only natural that we have grown and changed a lot.  And unfortunately for us, all our growth has not been in the same direction.  Of course, we're two individuals, so it's not unusual for us to grow at different rates and change immensely over the course of 15 years.  At to the equation an unplanned pregnancy, a shotgun wedding, and a miscarriage less than two weeks later, and it all equals two confused, and slightly over-it 30-somethings who feel totally DONE!   Still, it's like...DAMNIT!

Some of the activities that Marigold has been participating in over the last few years has been revealed to me  (after hours of interrogation)and I am left shocked, embarrassed, humbled, troubled, saddened, surprised, let-down, angry, and all the other disappointed-sounding adjectives and adverbs.  I'm not sure if we will remain together or not, but I do know that my life has been changed forever. 

The Blooming Orchid has been irrevocably changed and I'm definitely standing at a cross-road in my life.  My life, my children, my work, my education and my desire to make it big in this world are all more important to me than ever before.  I feel a sense of urgency to keep pushing, keep striving, keep going and going and going until.  Well, until something great happens. And I know that good things are in store for me.  My faith in myself and my future is very strong right now.  Despite the fact that my legs are shaky, my spirit is pretty sure-footed right now.  I know I'm a child of God and I know that I'm doing what He has called me to do.

I'm back in school too.  Yup, I'm nearly 3/4 of the way finished a graduate program in Education.  In less than nine months, I will give birth to a child I will call Masters Degree in Education with an Emphasis on Adult Education and Development.  I imagine that while my back was turned and I chose to focus on raising two small children, working full time and struggling through a Master's degree, my husband and supposed Ride or Die, was struggling with feelings of loneliness and abandonment.  I believe that instead of dealing with those same feelings two years prior, I instead chose to dive head first into furthering my self sufficiency by working like a dog and enrolling in school.  I can't help but wonder: did I intentionally turn my back on my Marigold, anticipating he would do what he did and thus, initiate the demise of our marriage? 

On another sad note, I've regained forty of the fifty pounds I lost two years ago.  So much so that many of my beloved size 16s are now snug and sometimes even painful.  It's like...DAMNIT!  Who works so hard to lose 50 pounds, then proceed to gain nearly all of them back?!  A nut, that's who!  But I'm trying not to beat myself up.  I'm trying to learn to be patient and more supportive of myself.  I'm still learning to love myself and I know that all the trials and tribulations I am going through will benefit me in the end.  I will learn from all these lessons! 

Keep loving yourself.  Life's too short not to!

Nope, I'm not dead, I've just been hiding

Here's the thing: I've been on a lazy, eating-whatever-I feel-like, post-surgery binge since the week of Christmas.  You see, I had a bunionectomy on Monday, December21st.  It was the most long-winded, drawn-out procedure I've ever endured.  And to make matters worse, I had the surgery on my right foot.  I live in Northern VA - hello, I practically LIVE in my automobile.  Not being able to drive, or exercise, or go from point A to point B as I pleased was very hard on me. Marigold was patient and drove me to and fro, but it wasn't the same.  I wanted to drive MYSELF!  My truck!  My music! My  heat up as high as I wanted it!  All that!

I've always been a very independent girl and this activity-halting surgery was a real slap in the face. I mean, I was informed of how my recovery would go and the things I was prohibited from doing, but still.  It was mentally worse than I ever thought it could be. I hated life for about ten weeks. Not to mention, the first two weeks I was forced to wear the ugliest boot known to man, then for the next three weeks, I wore another really ugly shoe-like contraption.  I was no fashion statement, I tell you.  It was a long, unattractive and painful ten weeks.  The pain was not that intense, but it was the kind of pain that would not go away.  I'd pop an 800 mg ibuprofen and surf through the next four or six hours pretty painlessly and feel, for the most part, okay. Then, you guessed it!  Here the pain would come again.  I don't deal very well with pain.  I never have, and I probably never will.  I'm a complaining, weepy, over-reacting wus, to be more precise. And the scar!  Oh the scar!  It's awful.  I would have endured another few weeks of pain if I could've avoided a scar.  It's really ugly.  But my bunion is gone and my big toe, despite the swelling that still lingers, looks great. 

So, I had my surgery and I sat on my butt through two (or was it three?) blizzards.  Chrysanthemum and Rose were out of school for a solid week, plus a day or two here and there, and you know who was home with them.  Yup - yours truly.  We spent about a week baking cookies, cakes, pies, and I happily hoovered any other sweet things I could get my grubby hands on.  I gained eight sloppy pounds.  I was miserable.  I was very angry with myself, but felt powerless to change things.  We were stuck in the house!  Literally! The only activity I got for a while was shoveling snow. It's a pretty good workout, in case you hadn't heard. We got so much snow it blanketed everything, including my mood.  Don't get me wrong, it was wonderful having the extra time with my Flowers, but it was not joyous to be forced to sit on my rapidly-spreading butt for weeks at a time. 

Finally, on February 8th, I got clearance from my Podiatrist to begin slowly exercising again, with strict orders to take it easy.  I did the happy dance out of his office, with plans to break a sweat again ASAP! 

Sixteen weeks later, I'm running/walking again, I'm back up to three miles at a time, I've been reunited with my beloved Stairmaster, I've lost five of the nearly ten pounds I put on, and I'm so very happy to be active again.  I never once in life thought I'd become the kind of girl that becomes miserable from being forced to be inactive.  Seriously!  Me???!!  Who woulda thunk it?

I can't take all the credit, I've started seeing my therapist again last month and I'm working on some of the issues I've been dodging for about thirty years.  Better late than never, eh?

I still battle with my weight.  I still overeat and occasionally binge on something I know is no good for me.  Oh yeah, I dropped out of Weight Watchers the last time around.  I'm a WW drop-out again.  Like Oprah said, 'I can't believe I'm still talking about my weight!'  I'm currently reading Women Food and God by Geneen Roth and I'm actively seeking insight into my quest for self-destruction a la food. Learning to love myself completely, despite my extra body weight and my other miscellaneous shortcomings has been a repeated theme with me.  I'm still a work in progress! 

The most exciting news of all for me is that I've enrolled in a graduate program.  I'll start pursuing my M.Ed (Masters degree in Education) in June.  I feel very strongly that this program is going to be a good fit for me and I have high hopes for myself. I want to do well and learn a lot.  I miss researching so much!  If I could afford to be a professional student, I would do it in a heartbeat.

Anyhoo, I'm alive, life is good.  I hope to be back real soon. 

In the meantime, keep on runnin', yall!