"Crazy train, ticket for one please..."

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am the first person to call bullshit when it comes to certain aspects of religion. But today I snuck away from my children, leaving them in the care of my father at home and entered a Lutheran church near me. I slid into the pew and bowed my head and did the customary sign of the cross. I then felt this overwhelming urge to bawl my eyes out. Desperation just came over me. I sat there and I pressed rewind in my head to my earliest memory from childhood and it just became more and more depressing. I completely surrendered and asked this all mighty being a good portion of the planet holds in such high regard, to somehow give me the strength to be able to manage my life. I live in constant fear and anxiety. I have actually been diagnosed and medicated for anxiety and depression. If nothing ever changes, how can it ever get better?

I have a horrible fear of death and abandonment. How we are raised and what we see give us a roadmap for our life. I no longer want to use this map I have had since I was a kid. I get you can't change people who do not want to be changed. I GET IT.  I guess without drawing out this post for days, I need to understand how to just let some things go, or "Give it to God" as I hear thrown around so often. I just feel like sometimes I need to see those footsteps next to me. I got up, lit a candle and began to have a quick one on one with the big guy. I need help. I need some higher power to begin to explain to my head and heart that I am not responsible for the actions of other people, past or present. I need my head and heart to understand that my life is what I make of it. I want this tremendous boulder of guilt out of my head and heart.

I dont think of myself as weak, but one person can only deal with so much until they literally collapse. And I have. Physically and mentally. Maybe what I was seeking today was a light bulb moment. I was hoping that as I sat there and silently poured my heart out to this beautiful and expensive sculpture's eyes, that somehow, I would get an answer. And you know what? I did. Its that noone and nothing will change, unless I change myself.  Time will tell.

Finding Inspiration...

I don't think you need to be a parent to feel the crunch of a terrific lack-of-time these days.... Normal every day life paired with the constant requests from outside sources = not enough hours in the day for the insane amount of shizz that needs attention. I still need to use this outlet to purge. So therefore, I take time for me, and do so. I have had so many ups and downs this year, with this week being pretty low. I feel that emotionally I am just bone dry. I am entering this stage of numbness with certain issues and I dont like it. I guess I feel like I am continually stifled. That my opinions, thoughts, views and goals have no validation or meaning. I cannot tell you what this does to your sprit. Depression is trying to chokehold me, but even through it all - Im feeling inspired. Attribute it to the beginning of Spring and my new years goal to tend to the garden of ME. But mother effer. I am high and low, broken and yet, balanced. You figure it out. I am inspired...

It’s a funny thing about what inspires you, it can be so deep and meaningful, or so shallow and transient. I have been trying to  live in the moment and enjoy everything that flows around me, rather than getting bogged down with ‘important’ things.

What is ‘important’ anyway?  Ok, so I know that things like jobs and putting food on the table and paying bills and things are important in one sense, and it would be pretty difficult to survive if these things werent tended to. On a simpler level, why do we decide something inspiring or beautiful is ‘more important’ than something else that is inspiring and beautiful?

Being outdoors and in the silence of nature is beyond healing and soothing to me. Watching my kids run and play and their absolute innocence is soothing to me. I am finding myself looking at issues and just repeating internally "Give it to God" "Give it to someone higher to deal with and focus on YOURSELF". I have also found myself heading to church..And engaging my children in talks about their beliefs. I take the view that children shouldn’t be able to choose a religion until they can understand what religion is.  Even then, they should take some sort of... SOMETHING...before they take the final step of committing to a belief system.  And there should always be an opt out process. I teach my children that they are miracles.I am interested in teaching them respect and care for the world around them – not as a part of religious rules that they have to subscribe to, or for the fear of this divine being and retribution, but for it’s own sake and for theirs as people.  I want to teach them the wonder of a sunrise is not more or less than the wonder of a storm.  When my 9-year-old will stop and tell me about an ant he sat and watched cross the sidewalk to make sure it got safely into the grass to make its way home to its mom, my heart melts. It tells me that he is aware of life and its value. Something as small as an ant and its safe journey across the concrete MEANS something to him. I love this child so much my heart hurts. He is a lesson to be learned EVERY minute of EVERY day. Those of you who know me, and know him, know what I mean. All of my children are beginning to become inspired by nature. We spend time outside, and once inside, the crayons come out and pictures of sunshines, rainbows, trees and flowers with their family gathered together begin flowing. It gives me peace to know, that what is soothing and calming to me, brings them happiness also. ::sigh::

Nature isn’t about complicated ideals.  It doesn’t bend and change shape to be what you want it to be. It just... IS. Mother Nature is simple, violent, ruthless, and beautiful.  It doesn’t have to justify its beauty, any more than it justifies its violence.  The things that inspire us should be the same.  Simply there, inspirational, for whatever the reason, and not graded according to their worthiness. I am inspired by the green around me, the rebirth of nature and the happiness the sun brings me when it shines on my face. My children's laughter. It can lift my heart and make me cry because I still continue to be amazed that these three beautiful beings came from me and I seize up with worry about the world I am sending them out into and how they will respond to what their lives bring them. No matter what they learn at home and the tools I give them to navigate throughout life, there are still people out there who seek to harm others. We hear about it every day.  I am an eternal worry wart. I cant help it, I will more than likely NEVER stop. THEY inspire me. I may be all over the place with this post, but that is because lately, my mind has been all over the place. Life and death, past and future.... It's not a good place to be at times, my mind...

The worth of inspiration is what it inspires you to do. Be inspired. 

February Funk. I HAZ IT.

Sometimes, it's really hard to take the saying "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff" to heart.  Inevitably, lots of small things put together equal one big thing and your day officially blows big ass. "That's the last straw," you hear yourself yelling when you run out of milk or make a wrong turn or burn your finger on the stove. I find myself in this boat a lot.  Why is it so much easier to focus on all the negative little things in life than all the positive little things?  Take yesterday, for example. 

My Debbie Downer list included:
a cloudy, rainy, snowy craptastic day
nothing in the house for lunch
whines and tantrums from a certain two-year-old
Said two-year-old dropping what lunch I was able to make her in her lap because she was goofing off instead of eating...
a sad, depressed feeling that wouldn't go away
a horrific headache
the daunting task of meal planning and grocery list making was hanging over my head
a husband who was at work while I was marinating in my "bad" day

The thing is, it wasn't that bad of a day. But my brain kept track of those little things, adding them up and adding them up until I was ready to deliver a Rodney King style beatdown to the first person who looked at me wrong. Sometimes it's really hard to get off that negative path, but thanks to my camera and the ability it gives me to reminisce on the day through the lens, I can now see the tiny little good things that I should've been adding up instead.

Despite the dreary, snowy BLAH day, I managed to have some chill time with my middle and youngest chitlins.

We had a tea party.
We played with bubbles.
We created odd creatures with playdoh.
We got lost in about 6 books.
I got schooled in wrestling action figures.

The oldest came home and flew through his homework without a battle and even cleaned up dinner, his toys and took a shower. All without me skreetching at him. Be still my heart. I am thankful for the time I take to capture all the little moments in my children's lives. It seems like their childhoods are going by so quickly.

And while they are napping... I figured I would purge...

10 Things You Probably Don't Know About Me

1.  When I was in elementary school - either 7th or 8th grade, I think it was,I accidentally left a curling iron plugged in and shut the front door to my house, thus locking my dumb ass out. Panicked, I grabbed a fire extinguisher from my dads car (THATS A WHOLE NOTHER ISSUE...) and decided to throw it through the bay window. But not the WHOLE window.... an opening probably 2X2 feet wide. I wont post a picture of what I looked like back then, but you can pretty much guess, I wasnt gonna fit through a 2X2 opening. A neighbor came to my rescue and busted in the front door. All because of..... a fucking curling iron. My douchebaggery began that afternoon, many years ago...

2.  I have a sleeping disorder.  Nothing diagnosed, because I am convinced I'm the only person in the world with this problem. I cannot stand the sound of someone breathing/snoring while asleep.  It has caused me so many issues throughout my life as I've struggled to find places to sleep alone on vacations or at sleepovers.  I have slept in bathrooms and closets, I've used fans and earplugs...I have threated to shove random items into people's body cavities... Its pretty intense. So if you are a snorer, I am going to need you to shove a sock in your face if you plan on sleeping anywhere near me or expect some shit to go down. No joke. Hand across heart.

3.  I went through what I call a "rebellious" stage in high school, not in the form of drinking and drugs, but shoplifting and penciling my eyebrows and lip liner with brown/black Wet N Wild pencil... that more than likely - was stolen. I got a lot of free stuff, got caught twice, grounded twice, then my dad threatened to beat my ass if I did it again and then those stealing days ended.  As for the lips and brows, that came to an abrupt end. Probably when I couldnt steal it anymore. Someone should have handed me the memo sooner though. Without those sharpie hued eyebrows, I sort of resembled Robert Blake:

Frightening. I know.

4.  I had horrible nose bleeds as a child. I have no idea why I got them... probably the fear of yardwork or mum planting which was pretty much a weekend ritual in my house, caused them. Bloody nose or not, I was out in the lawn at the crack of dawn well before the sun was up digging holes for those freebies from McCormick Place.

5.  Childbirth was one of the best experiences of my life.  I absolutely loved my labor and delivery experiences.

6.  I long to be a stay-at-home-mom who does educational activities with her kids, who keeps her house clean, who is super creative and is constantly making new things, who cooks healthy meals each night, who maintains a positive attitude in almost every situation.  Oh wait, this woman doesn't exist. And if she does, fuck her. 

7.  I am addicted to Scrabble.

8.  I am an organic food whore.

9.  I'm a very nostalgic person.  I wish I could time travel or re-live some of the great moments of my childhood and teenage years.

10. My goal is to be the Tori Spelling of Northwest Indiana. Minus the horrible boob job and infidelity thing... I love her craftiness, her drive, her style and her dedication to her children.  Tori kicks ass.
Thats all she wrote folks.

Time's A Wastin'....

New year, new start. So what exactly does that mean… It means Im tired of saying I am going to do something and not really following through with it. It means I am tired of getting the same results because I am not doing what I set out to do.  After much soul searching I have finally… FINALLY set the wheels in motion for a new lifestyle for the REST of my life. My babies deserve a healthy mother that is here physically and mentally for them. They didn’t ask to be here, and I don’t have the RIGHT to leave them before I should.  And I feel…. GREAT.  Probably better than I ever have in my life.  

I have also learned a few things about myself in this process….THEY ARE:

Zumba classes give me the ability to dance my heart out, minus the hoochie clothes and heels, pour sweat like a fool and not worry about smeared makeup.. and have me feeling like the backup dancer J. Lo wishes she had. ::SNAP::

I am very pleased with the Indiana school system. I talk mad shit about some of the teachers my son has had, but in the end, they have been consistant and open and I love that.

Tomato paste in a tube is pretty awesome.

I dont give myself enough credit for the things I CAN and DO - do.

People will NEVER be what you keep wishing they would be. You can exert all the energy you want in hoping and wishing and wasting money by purchasing prayer candles at Walmart and a rosary to PRAY these people into what you wish they were, but in the end, they are - who they are.  You either decide you can tolerate the energy in your life, or you make the decision to remove them. My lesson is learning that although it is unfortunate, life goes on without people who should be there.

A container of Chobani in the morning gives me a happy, content toddler. At least until lunchtime when I inform her she cannot have another. Dealing with Reagan from “The Exorcist” would be a walk in the park.

Michael Jackson has become the seventh member of our family. His music is played daily in this house and there is a lot of crotch grabbing and “SHA-MON’S” being thrown around.

I have, in fact, worn my sunglasses at night.

I blame others for things I have the ability to and/are responsible for changing in my own life. I commit to not being locked in an emotional tug of war with the others who arent playing.  I let it go.

I am a total advocate for sensory based play. It is amazing.

Thats not sweat you see pouring down my face when Im running... Its tears.
The simple act of breathing is incredibly calming. Mediation is a 20 minute part of my day, EVERYday.

I am buying organic about 80% of the time and I am pretty geeked about doing the garden again this year and trying to grow a few new things.

My oldest son is a carbon copy of me artistically. He is my dreamer, my poet, my dancer, my creator, my painter, my child who has his head in the clouds at times, but knows what he wants.  

There are a SHITLOAD of uses for baking soda.

This may sound very geriatric of me, but I make some mean ass soup. So if you want some, stop by… with some bread.  And hand soap. I’m out of hand soap….

I wish I had friends who lived closer. Im not in the boonies, but without friends near – it sure feels like it. ::kicks banjo playing frog::

If left alone, I could eat an entire bushel of Cuties.  And I don’t give a shit if they are made “for kids”.

Butt sweat is pretty gross. Being behind someone in the gym who’s ass looks like they just sat in a puddle or lost bladder control will have you wishing you were Stevie Wonder. Im going to need you to put a towel between your cheeks please…

That’s all she wrote folks.  Whatever keeps you positive – DO IT, and do it well.

Parenthood.

It is the most terrifying thing a human being can enter into on the planet. To me at least. And some may think thats because once you become a parent you have to cut all your hair off and drive a mini van. I, think differently.

When the majority of my friends at the time were busy with schoolwork and part time jobs, I was already playing house. Out of school, working full time and had my much older boyfriend living with me. If I knew then what I know now - I would have drop kicked myself. Leaving that alone, I will move on to say one of the best things that ever happened to me back then was the discovery I was expecting my first child. In May of 2002 I delivered (rather quickly) a 6lb 10 oz blond haired, blue eyed baby boy who changed my life. I was amazed and absolutely petrified that I was a mother. After the nurses catered to me and pushed so hard on my stomach to make sure that handy dandy uterus was clamping back down that I wanted to claw their eyes out, I sat in my hospital bed and I cried and cried and just stared at my absolutely perfect baby boy and promised him I was going to give him the best life. And while it hasn't been perfect, I hope I have lived up to my promise. As women, we grow these perfectly innocent creatures for 9 months and then within minutes we hand them over to the mean and ugly world. I have welcomed 2 more children since he was born and while the love in my heart has grown with each of their births, so has my fear.

I am raising my children to be honest, open-minded, loving INDIVIDUALS. To treat others as they would want to be treated. To be decent and moral. I do not raise them with the belief that the minute they show that they are human and make a mistake that they will be banished to a firey pit for all eternity. BUT I am also selfish..... I am a mother. I want them never to know the pain of a broken heart. I want them to always excel at whatever it is they choose to do in life and always be financially able to provide for themselves and eventually their families. I want them all to have friends who support healthy, wise choices. I want them to always eat their vegetables, use their seat belts, turn down drinks before they are 21 and always be at my dinner table at 6 for the rest of their lives. Because I am SELFISH. It is not that I do not have faith that with the way I am raising my children they will not be able to make their own choices, because this is what my role is - to lay the foundation for them, so when my husband and I are not around they have that voice in their head (better known as mother's annoying shriek) that will help them make the right choice. The safe choice. The one they know in their heart of hearts is the right one to make. I'm just SELFISH and want to keep them protected. From everything. FOREVER.

I dont deal well with separation. I have a horrible anxiety disorder. I have abandonment issues. Hell Sandra has issues for DAYS and I have no clue what I am going to be like when my children are teens and their friends have more influence over them than I do. I will be heartbroken. I will want to sit perched on their shoulders like the annoying red headed parrot they never wanted. It is a chapter of my life I am not prepared for. But as I sit here suffering through another night of insomnia with these irrational "what-if" fears going through my mind, my babies are in their beds, still innocent, still clueless to all the things that await them with puberty and adulthood, and tomorrow will wake up thinking I hung the sunshine in the sky for them and thats the magic I dont ever want my kids to lose. I just want them to enjoy being children. They have their whole lives to be adults.  My father gave me the best life he knew how too and could. Me saying I want better for my children in no way demeans him. But there are some things I grew up watching others have that I wished I had. I want family dinners at my table, holiday traditions, vacations, a photo for EVERY single thing in their lives I was ever able to capture for them (Mission ACCOMPLISHED). I want them to be able to look back at their childhood with love and incredible memories because when we get older, its really all we have. These years shape who we are and who we become. What we want for our lives and the lives of our future families. If I dont do my job right the first time, the ONLY time I have to get it right, will they want to share their lives with me later?

These 3 little people have helped me heal a massive wound in my soul that unless you are ME, you couldnt or wouldnt understand. Every time they laugh, or even FIGHT. Every time they wrap their arms around me and say "I Love You Mommy", I heal. It is a never ending process. Let's compare it to...ORGAN REMOVAL. You know it's gone, its never coming back, there is no use for it in your system... so it is removed. Either by choice or necessity, but the scar is still there. Everytime you LOOK at the scar you are reminded of what was once there or should be there. It's how you make your next move that matters. I forgive people, but I dont forget. I have to move forward from whatever held me back in the past to be able to give 100% to my children. If I am angry at people my children are suffering. I wont allow that. So I have found quite a few ways to release. I guess Im all over the place with this. But I couldnt sleep, had to just purge. These damn stories of horrific child abuse in the news have my heart sad. Oprah Winfrey said it so perfectly when she said "Biology is the LEAST of what makes someone a mother". I just hope that when I am old and falling apart my children will still seek my advice and support and want "Mom". Until and even THEN, I will still spend every waking moment of my life worrying and loving them.

All I Want For Christmas Is..... A colonoscopy!

Christmas is 2 weeks away.

Im still trying to figure out where the hell 2011 went....

Yeah. I was watching my beloved soaps the other day and a commercial came on - very similar to one they ran a few years back. Only THIS time, the commercial was a woman who was, NO-SHIT, (AND NO PUN INTENDED) urging other women to gift their husbands with a colonoscopy this holiday season. Yes, nothing says Merry Christmas like anal invasion. I giggled, I rewound the DVR about 15 or 16 times and then I thought to myself...This could be THEE best gift EVER! Although something tells me if I presented my husband with an appointment for a colonoscopy he would gladly suggest he return the favor. ::VOMIT::

Im getting ready to send out the Christmas cards. Shopping is almost done, Christmas has officially projectile vomited throughout my house. All is good. I envy the people who can sit and write or type out those end of year letters they enclose with their cards. I cant do it. I'm lucky if I remember to throw a bra on before I leave the house, let alone the events that took place over a span of 365 days. If I did send a letter it wouldnt be much... probably go a lil summmm' like DIS:

Happy Holidays Friends and Family,

Hubby still hates his job, we need new carpet and the dog sheds like a mother fucker. I learned how to make my own buttermilk, the kids are good - one decided to rip a chunk of the dry wall out, the boys bond over farts, soft dart machine guns, and their disgust for Justin Beiber. Our Little Princess handed me her own shit the other day. I suppose you have figured out by now that all three provide me with epic Springer-like insanity on a daily basis. My father is not aging gracefully and I have tonsil stones. Other than that, not much to report on the homefront.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, dont forget to return the .44 cent favor.

The Jakubowski's

~

So be thankful this holiday season when you recieve the card I had to do over and over with the pictures I had to take over and over, separately, of my fabulously uncooperative children, and don't get "the letter".

Because.............. WE A WHOLE BOX OF CRAZY!

Till next time chitlins.

Miss Me? Yeah, Me Too...

A sign of life. That's right. I'm alive... I realize you've had absolutely no evidence of this the last few weeks and well, I am sorry.

They say life is what happens to you when you've already made plans. Life, like SHIT - Happens. I have been unable to blog. I am DEEP in the luciousness that is Autumn and well, this broad simply doesnt have time. 

:::GASPS::::
Halloween. Samhain.

It's in FULL THROTTLE bitches. And my home literally looks as though it has projectile vomited in it. Words cannot describe the love I have for Autumn. I mean I would be slap happy if it were like this all year round. Is there anything more beautiful on the planet than the colors, scents and activities offered by this season? Didnt think so and shame on you for even thinking otherwise.

I can't promise that with kids, and life in general that I'll be as frequent as I was, BUT I am going to be focusing more on my writing. And I think the first nugget I should write is a letter to WHOMEVER would be responsible for putting a MOTHER EFFING TRADER JOE'S IN NORTHWEST INDIANA. I mean WTF?!?! I do 99.9% of my grocery shopping there. Are the folks of NW Indiana "less than"? Do we not deserve a natural or organic foods market near us? Bastards. Joe is a BASTARD. So I drop midget #1 off at school and take midgets #2 and #3 with me. Midget #2 is currently on a kick where he must announce the temperature as well as the direction and speed the vehicle is traveling at pretty much every 5 to 10 minutes. Midget #3 was unusually happy and decided to sing the entire theme song to Mickey Mouse Clubhouse the ENTIRE drive. AT THE TOP OF HER LITTLE LUNGS.  I should note the song is maybe 1 minute long. But for the 30 minute drive - I was COMMANDED to listen to it. Insanity is brewing even before I get to the store. I hate shopping with my children. It's a sad, pathetic day in your life when you become excited to get dressed, and go out on a Friday night after 9 because you are............... GOING TO THE FUCKING GROCERY STORE. But I <3 it. It's "ME" time.

NOT WITH KIDS. They want to test all the samples, sniff all the vegetables and breads and sample juices and use their own "carts" (BTW, whoever thought it was cute to make a mini "shopper in training" cart should be strapped inside of one and pushed off a cliff. I can't tell you how many displays my kid has crashed into trying to fill the ridiculously tiny basket with things we werent buying or even needed...) Then my daughter begins a major demonic possession over a fruit snack she couldnt eat RIGHT THIS MINUTE. Midget #2 has to use the bathroom. And when I say "use the bathroom" I dont mean "tinkle".... I mean this was one of those "OPEN THE DOOR WITH YOUR PANTS AROUND YOUR ANKLES" and plead with Mom to come "HELP PLEASE?" potty breaks. It was... well, LOVELY. So I have to leave the one kid in the cart and pray to THE GOOD LORD that she doesnt unbuckle and fall out of the cart while I race into the potty hoping not to see peen and trying not to GAG at the overwhelming odor of what left my 5-year-olds tail end.

Once that was over, I then race through the store and get what I need and get the HELL out before the mid-morning meltdown (She's got a cold so she's not sleeping right and naptime is all over the place) Miserable. JUST miserable. Then I get in line behind some chick who failed to properly bag her melons and left them dangling near her navel and my ever inquisitive 5-year-old announces loudly "Whats wrong with her Uh...THINGIES?" YES - even he noticed. It was enough to make you want to slam a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. 

Even with the alarming nature of this picture, I can assure you what I saw was much worse.

I suddenly went deaf in the checkout line, oblivious to my daughter leaning over and shoving candy bars into the neck of her jacket, blinded to the fact that my 5-year-old was doing the Moonwalk and knocked over a fresh plant display and saw flashes of me punching the cashier in the face for smiling so much. Why was she irritating me so? I mean I suppose she could have been rude and ignorant and I would have complained and threatened to have her job by sundown. This woman did nothing wrong but be pleasant and I wanted to elevate her through the front window "Terminator" style. Between the Joker faced cashier, the demonic children and the woman with mudflap boobies to her kneecaps, I went a little Sybil. But I will continue this trip every 2 weeks.

Because I am a Trader Joe's Whore.

I guess I could do all my shopping at Super-Walmart. Which I should have you know, has their own group of bra-less wonders wandering the isles late at night too.

Wal-Mart. I love and HATE Wal-Mart. The whole concept of this store intrigues me. Sure, Im all about "falling prices" but do you trust that piece of "fine jewlery" you just bought an isle over from the deli meat? Yeah.... consider that folks. And while I am a total hypocrite and will continue to shop there until the end of time, I just figured you all should be aware that I will know your fine jewlery was, infact, purchased here.

Until we meet again....

TOODLES!