Hearts, love and all that jazz

It's officially February.  The first day brings two wonderful events.  My sister and brother-in-law's wedding anniversary and my niece's birthday.  Then you move on to the mushy love stuff.

This year, it's all hitting me hard.  My sister and brother-in-law are celebrating 21 years, my niece is turning 18 and again, I'm single on Valentine's Day.  And I think, will I ever have a love that's lasted 21 years, or will I end up alone.

A little melodramatic, I know, but it's how I feel.  Granted, I have had some interest but for one reason or another, I end up getting scared away, which tells me two things: One, obviously I'm not ready for a relationship and two, the right person hasn't come along.  I want fireworks damnit!  I get claustrophobic.  Feel suffocated.  And start lacing the running shoes up when kids get mentioned whether it be mine or theirs.  Too much too soon. And of course I have a strict policy about Barbie, Jr. meeting anyone.  Not with the separation issues she's been having.

Being in a relationship sounds nice, but I like my time.  My time alone, my time with Barbie, Jr.  MY time.  And I'm just not ready to share that yet.  Maybe I'm weird, maybe I'm selfish, but it's my life and I'll live it my way.

Really?

I'm writing this with the knowledge that there still are A FEW good, decent, honest men out there.  Not ones who pretend they don't have a girlfriend and claim to miss you when they want to hook up.  I'm not a booty call, if you wanted me, you shoulda held on to me the first go round, just sayin'.

It's a realllllly small world boys.  I may just know your girlfriend even if she doesn't live around here anymore.

Poor, poor pitiful me

Barbie Jr. is breaking my heart.  I spent an hour this morning trying to calm her from crying when I took her to school.  Get an e-mail from her teacher at the end of the day that she wrote a story in writing about her mommy and daddy not being together and making her cry.  Cue the meltdown.

I've officially worn down.  Found my breaking point. I'm exhausted from worry and stress.  Anxious.  Nervous.  And just feeling blah in general.  

Of course it doesn't help matters that when I tried to talk to asshat about things he got all tough love.  Sadly, I wish I thought that was coming from him and not his girlfriend.  Then he wanted to question her meds.  Again, hello girlfriend.  This evening when Barbie Jr called me she broke down and wanted to come home.  I never feed into it.  I always encourage her to stay there insisting that her daddy misses her and she needs to spend time with him.   I tell her to go talk to him and tell him why she's upset.  Within two minutes I have a shouting phone call from him wanting to know what is going on and why is she crying.  

For once, just for once, for the sake of our only child, I just wish he would man up, grow a pair of balls and actually want to do what is right for her rather than doing what he always does, which is find someone to blame.    I wish for once he could do the right thing and make a decision on his own, or have an independent thought.

I feel like a failure as a parent.  I know I did everything possible to hold us together as a family and failed.  I should have gotten her into counseling earlier, but she seemed fine, so yet again I failed.  And now, he wants to accuse me of babying her or loving her too much.  How dare he.  Apparently, I'm the only love and comfort she finds right now and I wish he could see that.  It's hurting her, him, and their relationship.  But we all know, in typical asshat form, in the end, I'll get the blame.  I always do.  

Reflections

As most of you know, (hahaha, meaning my 2 or 3 "fans") last year was a pretty rough one.  I could go through each thing but that would probably cause me some anxiety and possibly some drinking.  Or crying.  Or screaming.  So we'll leave it at, it wasn't the best.

But the truth be told, I wouldn't go back and change any of it.  Not even that moment where I was headbutted and pretty sure for a split second that I was dead.

My year ended well.  Christmas Eve I was mopey and all feeling sorry for myself.  Barbie, Jr. was with her dad and I was home alone.  I won't lie, I spent the entire day in bed sulking. Christmas day Santa brought me my Christmas Spirit. Watching the joy in Barbie, Jr's face as she opened her gifts was priceless.

I spent lots of time with my girl over Christmas break.  She spent New Year's Eve with her dad and I spent mine with my parents and my nephew.  We laughed, and acted silly and fed the cat cheese.  And of course I had my crochet with me. :)

This year has already started out better.  It's going to be a good one, I just know it. I won't settle for anything less than freaking fabulous!

Fa la la la la

Life just hates me I'm convinced.  The latest being, I had to shell out $600 in car repairs this week.  Yep, just before Christmas. 

Bazinga!

I keep looking at the clock making sure it's not April Fools day.  Or waiting for someone to jump from around a corner and tell me everything is one big joke.

First off my cell phone went "bloop" and then died.  That happened the day after I figured out my debit card info had been stolen/hacked and someone got me for over $200.  I barely had an extra $200 laying around.  It's slowly but surely getting sorted out.

This after the most recent drama in my life which would be Savannah doesn't want to go with her dad.  The last 2 out of 3 times she went for an overnight with him she sobbed until she made herself sick wanting to be with me.  It all began around Thanksgiving.  Initially I thought maybe it was because I had been upset over the cat.  But it continued.  It's hard to see her like this.  When she thinks she is going to have to go she gets hives.  And from my standpoint, it's the most difficult thing ever.  I don't know what is going on in her head, I can't fix it, and I feel helpless.

There is a Santa Claus!!

I know because I have seen Santa not once, but twice, waving along Rt. 60.  I even embarrassed Barbie, Jr. by honking at him and shouting HI SANTA out the window.

This year Barbie, Jr. is at that age where she's skeptical.  I came across a pretty neat website where you can make a personalized video and send it to your child.  The look in her eyes as she watched it was priceless.  Even better was after the video was over she says to me, "MOM! I think Santa's been creeping on me on Facebook!"  But it took me back to when I was her age.

My grandfather, Dr. Harold E. Ward, was a professor at Marshall University. When he began at Marshall, it was still known as Marshall College.  He was probably one of the smartest people I ever known.  I was only fifteen when he passed and I wish I had been able to learn more from him.

As I was growing up, I recall many times that he would take my cousins and I to his annual Christmas party at school.  And every year, Santa would be there.  I would see him and tell him what I wanted.  As I mentioned, I was probably around my daughter's age when I became skeptical.  I questioned everything about Santa, and my grandfather was hell bent on making me continue to believe.  So as usual, we got dressed up and attended the Christmas party.  This particular year I recall my grandfather asking me to hand deliver a special gift to Santa.  I did as asked and I believe Santa gave me a gift in return.  I don't remember the details but there was something about that visit that made me realize, he indeed was really Santa Claus.

Even after I quit believing, I continued to attend the parties.  The last one I remember attending I believe was the last Christmas my grandfather was with us.  He had retired by then and was teaching at the southern branch of Ohio University at that time.  Imagine my surprise when Santa Claus was there as well.  There was still something about him that made my heart happy.

It was September 1991, when we lost my grandfather and about 6 years later, while having a discussion with my mom that I realized finally who Santa had been. Santa had been my grandfather's dear friend Dr. Sam Clagg. I recall he would usually come visit with us at these parties, or sit at our table, and managed to slip off unnoticed.

I have thought about that story many times through the years.  I've seen Mr. Clagg out a few times as the years have passed and have wanted to shout SANTA!  Although, he would have no clue who I was.  But for now, wherever he is, I'd like to thank him for renewing a little girl's faith in the Christmas spirit and for giving the woman she's grown up to be such lovely childhood Christmas memories.  And to my papaw, who I know is looking down on me every day, I love you and I miss you.