Deep Introspection or PMS - Not Sure Which

I had a story that I toiled over for 4 months.  It was to be my first submission.  I wrote it, rewrote it, added story, added filler and finally hit my 8,000 word count.  I submitted it and waited patiently for a response.  Deep down I knew that it wasn't getting published and for the most part didn't get my hopes up.  Of course there was that little flame that burned inside of me that hoped it would.  A wanting to be able to say "I am a published author".  Alas it wasn't meant to be.  It was as suspected rejected.  It hit me harder than I thought it would.  You see, I am always being told I am a good writer.  I have always been complimented on the blog and I love when people read it for the first time and are surprised that it is any good.  Writing (when the inspiration hits) is the only thing I am passionate about.  So in one fell swoop, an editor devalued my only form of creativity. I was told; as I always have been "You aren't good enough".  This is hard to hear when it is a demon you have been fighting all your life.  I am my own worst enemy.

The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that I don't want to be a published author.  That maybe, I was trying just like in my twenties to be someone else.  Maybe because my dear friend could do it - so could I. The truth is - as it was then though - I am not her.  I do not have her motivation, nor do I have her dedication. I do not have the ability to say F you to the extraneous factors in my life that control me like a marionette. I, to this day have no follow through.  Ask me how my running is going then ask me about warlock and see which one is progressing further.  Sure I could use the havoc the weather is wreaking on my foot thanks to the toes breaks, but then I could also have my fat ass on a bike instead of a desk chair.

I've read and reread this blog which turns 1 year old next month and I have seen some growth in myself,  I have also seen many instances where I have not learned a single thing.  They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again.  If this is true, then I am indeed certifiable. I try to promote strength and Independence in my blog.  I want people to see they are not alone in their struggles if they can relate to my posts - yet I suddenly feel like a false prophet.  I am no closer to being that strong independent woman now then I was over a year ago when I moved out. I don't even see it as feeling sorry for myself, nor am I trying to extract pity.  Sometimes you just have to put it out there in words so maybe you can move on. 

Finally - I had previously said that if the story didn't get published - I would blog post it.  I have decided not to.  One person has read it so it has seen the light of day, but I am going to lay it to rest along with the thoughts of ever being published.  I'll instead focus on my baby - the blog. I'll continue treat you or bore you whenever my muse rears her pretty coifed head! This is where it started after all. 

My Hero

I have a hero. 

It isn't an athlete or a movie star.  It isn't a political figure or anybody famous for that matter.  She doesn't wear a cape, but indeed many hats.  It is my best friend Susie.  She is so much more put together than I am  - and always has been. She has all the qualities you want in a best friend, a great mother & loving wife.  She is my hero and I truly hope that I see her facebooking about her 40 year anniversary just like her mama. With her being East Coast and me being West Coast, we don't even get to talk that often, but I know she is there for me.  We keep tabs on facebook and occasional texts.  Many people have passed through my life.  Some have gone and come back through.  Susie has always been a constant.

Sus-eye (yes in middle school we would draw they eye part out in our notes we'd pass back and forth) has been my best friend since 8th grade.  Since gym class where were were always the last to be picked - we have stuck together ever since.  If it weren't for her dragging me to the afterschool class to retake the semester of Government I failed - I would not have graduated.  (Yes she did literally drag me by my ear when I refused to ride in the same car as her boyfriend I hated at the time.)  She is truly the yin to my yang.  She is my polar opposite.  She was preppy, I was punk rock wannabe.  She had a canopy bed & I didn't,  Her views are conservative whereas I refuse to discuss politics. She went to college and I went to a college town and just partied. She married a great man (don't let your head swell too big Jerry - this is about your WIFE - not you) and I am still waiting for a judge to sign off on my divorce.  Her parents are still married and very supportive.  She has two kids one of whom was diagnosed with Autism,  This is where her strength outshines any comic book hero in my opinion. She will tell you that she doesn't do anything any other parent wouldn't do in her situation.

Her husband is paramedic who works out of state to provide for his family and so that Susie can stay home with the kids. (In his defense - it isn't as far as it sounds).  She spends a fair amount of time alone with the kids which in my opinion - can't always be easy with her son's diagnosis.  She has never complained to me though. She does it because she loves her son and it's what is right.  She has led support groups for other families with children with Autism.  She fights her son's school constantly to make sure they are keeping up with his IEP and other issues that impact not only her son, but all other special needs kids too. She is on point with her issues. On top of all that - she maintains the household, provides a loving environment for her kids and husband. Most of all though; she strives to maintain as normal of a childhood experience as she can for her both of her kids. She is a true champion to her cause.

I would like to think that if I were in her shoes, I would step up to the plate and swing, but I don't know that I could.  I try to be a good mom to Gman, but I am have made many screw ups that hopefully don't impact him too greatly.  I lack her strength and her courage.

Thank you Susie for being my best friend, a constant inspiration to me as a mother and my hero. 

Sitting in the Parents Area TOTALLY SUCKS

I knew the day he was born that this day would come.  That someday, I would no longer be the center of his universe.  That one day, I would reach out for his chubby little hand and it wouldn't be there instantly cradled into mine.  That one day. he would no longer be a baby, but a big boy who craves independence; free from the over protective shadow of mom.

I should be high fiving myself that I am part of a duo that is raising a mostly self confident child.  One who is extremely smart, exceptionally funny and ready to venture on to new challenges.  It's just hard to fathom that he wants to venture without me.  This is the child who shunned other kids at the park so he could play with me (well when he wasn't hitting on the other moms),  Who cried and would withdraw himself into a corner when I dropped him off at preschool.  The child who stood outside the bathroom door while I was doing my business because he wasn't allowed in there with me and didn't want to be apart.  This was also a child who is no longer 3, 4 or 5 years old.

He is now almost 6 and a half years old. When we go to the park, he now only wants to play with me if there are no other kids around.  When he is taken to school, he wants to be dropped off in front of the school so he can walk in by himself.  The morning I had to go into school with him so we could talk to his teacher - he was mortified.  He told me he was going to pretend he didn't know me and ran 5 steps ahead so we weren't together.  Nevermind the fact he kept calling back "mom are you still there?"  "Yes Gman I am" "OK, then I still don't know you!"    He no longer wants to be called baby or sweetie in public so he doesn't get made of fun of.  He wants to be known as DUDE.

Yesterday was the kicker though.  At a party with his classmates, I was informed I was to hang out with the other parents and was not allowed to play with him in the bounce houses.  So I sat there and watched my baby who really isn't one anymore, interact with his peers without a care in the world.  He would run at me like he was coming in for a hug, but then run right past me.  He was in the six year old zone and it's a zone I have to come to terms with.  I have to learn to let go because this is what he needs to grow and become even more confident and self assured.  I need to cherish the fact the he still insists on his lullabies and a story before bed because those days are numbered too.  He is growing up and I couldn't be more proud of the boy is becoming.  So, I bite my tongue when I feel the urge to scream GO BABY as I cheer him on at soccer.  I try to honor his wishes of not responding "yes sweetie" when he asks me a question when we are out and about.  It's hard though because that DUDE is always going to be my baby!