Today I am 44 years old. I don't know what 44 is supposed to feel like, but I don't think I feel like what I thought 44 felt like when I was 22.
I feel good. I'm not in the same shape I was at 35, time seems to give less results for the same output. But I can still do everything I want to.
For my birthday this year I am giving myself a gift.
I'm giving myself permission.
Permission to have people in my life that I trust
Permission to remove people from my life that hurt me, mistreat me, ignore my feelings or in any way directly make me feel less than who I am.
Fortunately for me, there aren't very many people that fall into the category, I can think of 4 right now.
Permission to laugh as loud as I want.
Permission to wear what I want, even if I don't like my upper arms. (don't panic I'm not talking hot pants and crop tops )
Permission to live my life, with Riddick, as we see fit. No one else really needs to like it.
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Wow it doesn’t seem like it’s been September since I uploaded something to my blog. I write all the time, and I think of uploading but I guess I forget the last part.
Last summer started smoothly, or as smoothly as it can be when you are remodeling your home. Most of the labor was done by Riddick. I’m the planner, accountant and sandwich maker. It was a huge job replacing flooring, windows, doors, siding and painting. I’m grateful for Riddick but I’m even more grateful that we are done.
The end of summer wasn’t nearly as smooth and definitely wasn’t planned. Late August my step-son Ironman decided to move in with us and finish his senior year. Without going into gory detail that combination of having my in-laws (whom I adore) and my 18 year old red headed step child (yes he really is) was beautiful chaos. I don’t know how we all did it, but we did.
As Mama and Papa ventured south in the fall and Ironman started school there was a peaceful lull where it was just the 3 of us in the house. But it was short lived. Very quickly things were amiss with Ironman. I don’t want to violate his privacy nor do I want to blog about his mom. I am comfortable saying that his exodus to our house brought many other issues to light, namely depression.
I think it was there before he moved, simmering, but once his whole world changed, it was more than he could handle all alone.
The next 6 months were a wild ride that I thought would never, ever, ever end. Weekly appointments, lots of checking in, dropping whatever you are doing to listen when he’s ready to talk. Worry and prayer, more praying to stop the worrying. Praying for any sign that there is going to be light at the end of a tunnel and that tunnel won’t be the end.
And then in a very short time, the fog lifted and out came the Ironman we all knew.
Is he perfect now, oh hell no, but nobody is. I tell my kids I’d rather know exactly who you really are and maybe not like everything you choose than have you pretend to be something you are not, just to please me.
All of that coupled with some job changes and the holidays and poof….it’s April already.
I’ll have more later, for the maybe 1 human being that reads this