Come on Va'lea! SMILE for Mommy...

AWWWW! That's a good boy!

Shredded

First of all....YES!!! We got the cute little split level. YES!!! I love it! YES!!! I am going to get some paint and a door and some wood and nails because we actually had to turn the downstairs living room into the master bedroom because our furniture wouldn't fit in the ACTUAL bedroom. But it's gonna be great cuz now I have a HUGE bedroom (with no door...yet). I now have my own master bath which was one of the things I was really gonna miss in my old house. Let's forget that the walls are currently Dark Emerald Green and that two people cannot fit in the bathroom at the same time. Let's not worry about the fact that EVERY AVAILABLE cupboard and drawer in my kitchen is stuffed to the brim and I still have 4 FULL boxes of kitchen stuff that has yet to be put away.

I am going to focus on the FABULOUS color of red I picked to paint the front door, my dogs running deliriously around the yard cuz it's the first time in MONTHS they've been able to run without being on a leash and my superman's over sized garage with shelves and a wood burning stove that he is going to turn into his "man room" so that I can have my very own scrap booking (yeah right) room in the basement.

And life is bright and sunny again. The move was fairly smooth and the bills are going to get paid and we are great...and then...WHAM! The hits just keep on coming...

I met IZ's father (let's call him Sperm Donor...no?...ok then S.D.) when I was 19. He was 29. I was living in Arizona and my friend that I had moved out there with had just left to go back to her husband. I was alone and didn't know anybody. I really just wanted to go home but didn't have a home to go home to as my mom and step dad had just separated and she was living in my grandmother's basement. I met this guy who was charming and funny and LOUD and liked to party. And he was older, which I thought meant he was wiser and he wanted to love me and take care of me or maybe he just wanted to have sex with me and I was too naive to GET THAT!

We moved in together really quick. I wanted to get married. I wanted to play house. I had extremely romantic notions of what marriage was about. And you know, the truth is, I figured I had nothing to loose. I thought that if things didn't work out with SD that there would be other guys just waiting. I hadn't been without a boyfriend EVER at that point. I didn't know what love was, what it really felt like and the passion and excitement, the flattery and kisses, the presents and promises of those first few months were what I really craved. When all that stuff was over with and reality sunk in, I was bored and done and moving on. But I was 19! And I really thought that's what love WAS! and that when REAL love came along that initial PASSION and FIRE would never go away.

Things were never really good between SD and I. He wanted control. He wanted me under his thumb and afraid all the time. He put me down, called me names, told me I was stupid and I believed him and allowed him that control for a little while but I have never been the kind of person who can handle being told what to do. ASK me to do something and I will bend over backwards but TELL me to do it and you can kiss my ass.

So it wasn't a good fit. We were never partners, never equal and I WAS afraid. Just about the time I decided to pack my bags and sneak away in the middle of the night he started to take my keys away so I couldn't leave the house, told the few friends I had to STAY AWAY from me behind my back and made me believe that nobody loved me but him.

By the time we returned to Utah I was pregnant. When I told him...he dumped me...but with conditions. See, he still wanted that control. What he told me was that I BELONGED to him. I would NEVER be ALLOWED to marry anyone else, I would NEVER be ALLOWED to have any other children. I was HIS. FOREVER.

Talk about shatter my world, SHRED my dreams and spit on what is left of me. I didn't have him, not his support, not his money, certainly not his love but I couldn't have anything else either. I felt like I had been stripped of everything that was me. The mind games and threats were almost more than I could bare. I was in TOTAL SHOCK that there were men in this world who could treat somebody SO BAD. I just didn't know. I mean, I knew relationships went south all the time but I had never had my heart SHREDDED like that.

Thankfully, he had to leave the state because he got into trouble with the law. IZ was four months old. He came to my grandparents house where I was staying and cried over his sorry life and said goodbye. He didn't hold our daughter, he didn't even seem to see her and then he was gone.

I wish I could say I never heard from him again but it wasn't that simple. He called me MANY times over the years, mostly just to threaten or yell or blame me for his problems. He only paid child support when ORS caught up to him and that was after phone calls and yelling. He stated often that he wanted to SEE his daughter! That I was keeping him from seeing her. That my family was CRAZY! That I was being controlled by them! But the facts are THIS, I lived in the same place for 13 years. My phone number was the same, my address was the same and my job was the same. He always knew where to find me, where to call me and at any time could have showed up on my doorstep to SEE his child. HE NEVER DID. EVER. Not in 16 years. It has been at least three years since his last phone call to me and that was when his mother passed away. It was 5 minutes of ranting, raving lunacy. Scared me to death and my only thought was, wow, he hasn't changed one bit. He's exactly the same as he was when we were together. Time has not made him wiser or gentler. He has not seen the light or the errors of his ways and I am so thankful that my IZ didn't have to be subjected to the dis function.

Then...last night...the phone call went something like this..."MOM, guess who found me on myspace...?" My heart dropped into my stomach. I became physically ill. I heard the motor of that shredder starting up and I became very afraid. Only this time I'm not afraid for me. I'm afraid for her. My baby girls heart is innocent and unscarred.

I know she is curious about him. I know she has built up in her mind a mythical figure, a fantasy of what she hopes her father will be. I know she wants to see for herself that she has his eyes, his forehead, his smile. She probably has dreams of flying across the country and the two of them walking the beach hand in hand, discussing all of life's adventures and mysteries but maybe I've done her a disservice. Maybe I've protected her too much. Like me, she doesn't know who cruel men can be.

I'm writing this in a haze. I've had no sleep and the sleep I did get last night was full of nightmares and anxiety. I don't know what to do. I feel helpless and adrift. I want my baby to be happy. That's all I want. I can't stand the thought of her disappointment if he doesn't come through with the promises that I KNOW he's going to make.

Is this my own broken heart talking? Am I really not over this after 16 years? Or are my fears real? Someone, anyone...if you have any advice for me...I need it. Please give me some guidance here. It took me YEARS to glue back together the pieces of my shredded heart, my shredded life. I need to protect my IZ but I also know she deserves to know who she is, where she comes from. Someone please tell me how to protect her and let her go at the same time.

Lullabies? We don't need no stinkin' lullabies!

This is my mom at 16 years old. Only a few weeks before she got pregnant with my twin brother and I. My dad was her childhood sweetheart. They grew up on opposite corners of the same block. My stepmom once told me that my father only loved two women in his whole life and my mom was his first true love. When they were kids, my dad accidentally hit her in the face with a basketball (I'm sure he was showing off) and her jaw still pops to this day. Not a good omen but they did eventually get married. It was a "shotgun" wedding in my grandparents living room. My mom wore a white mini dress and white platform sandals. I loved that dress and her in it.

My parents moved into a single wide trailer in a trailer park and my dad went to work in the local steel plant where he still works to this day. They were broke. They were scared. 17 and 18 year old parents of twin babies. It would have been a miracle if their marriage had lasted.

In those days there was no child welfare, no WIC for single mothers. My mom had to juggle twin toddlers, a full time job, a home and dating and she had to do it all by herself. Now I'm not going to pretend that it was easy. I remember getting into a freezing car with no heater before the sun came up so she could drop us at the babysitters before work. I remember not getting picked up sometimes until after dark. I remember my mom crying from exhaustion and being home alone with my brother sometimes cuz my mom had to do what she had to do. Yes, it was scary and it was difficult but I didn't really know any different. You know, I didn't even know what "Divorce" was until I was like 10 years old and then I didn't even associate it with myself. Cuz I didn't really know what it was like to live in a home with two parents. I just thought that's the way things were.

My mom was goofy and a free spirit. I remember she would sit cross-legged on the couch with a towel on her lap. She would brush her long dark hair down over her face and then she would part it and roll it up into hot rollers. When she took out those rollers her curls would fall down to her shoulders and BOUNCE! I always thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

She would play hide & seek with us in the dark. She was an excellent hider. She would wait in her hiding place until we were almost frantic and then she would reveal herself and we would squeal with a mixture of delight and relief as she pulled us into her arms for big big hugs.

We didn't get lullabies, my mom pulled out her guitar and sang "Ghost Riders in the Sky." and "Rawhide". When the power would go out she would light an old candle in a tin and we would sit around the kitchen table and tell stories into the night.

I don't remember wanting for anything though I'm sure we did and knowing how much my brother and I liked to read she would spend money that I know she didn't have on STACKS of books so we never ran out of new reading material.

I have so many good memories of my mom but looking back I think the happiest time from my childhood was when it was just us. It must have been the hardest time for her but before my stepdad came, we were the focus of her ENTIRE WORLD, her whole motivation to succeed. She did WHATEVER it took to get us through.

My mom is tough, strong but beautiful and always smiling. She can sing like an angel and scream like the devil. She's goofy and has a wicked sense of humor and she loves to be different. She stands out from the crowd. She taught me my work ethic and how to keep going in the face of the worst life has to offer. And together, we have made it through.

I know she carries around her mommy guilt for having to work so much, for not knowing how bad things were with the "Stepdad from hell" or not knowing what to do about it if she did. And we had a lot of mommy-daughter knock downs but that was from pure fear and frustration cuz she just didn't know what to do with her out of control, rebellious daughter. But as far as mom's go? I think think she's perfect.

She reminds me through her example to always be myself. She makes me laugh hysterically and she gives me strength when I start to cave under my everyday pressures. She's a FANTASTIC grandma. But most important, through good times and bad, my mom has LOVED me and I have never doubted that love. NEVER.

Mommy, on this Mother's Day I just want to say THANK YOU! It's not enough, this little blog, but I can never repay you for the life you have given me and the things you have taught and instilled in me but I want you to know how proud I am that you are MINE and that I love you.

"The sacrifice which causes sorrow is no sacrifice. Real sacrifice lightens the mind and gives him a sense of real peace and joy." - Mahatma Gandhi

Superman and I live in a beautiful home. Sometimes I walk in the front door and look around and can't believe how lucky I am. I know that sounds materialistic but I was a single mom for 12 years. I watched all of my friends get married, have babies and build their dream homes. And no, I wasn't jealous. I can honestly say that I am happy for them. I knew that one day the RIGHT guy would come into my life and all good things would happen for me.

But lately, with the bad economy and hearing on the news about lay offs to come and oil prices falling and recessions and depressions, I've been really worried. On Planet Vernal companies are folding, people are losing their jobs and in my neighborhood alone, I have watched four families move out of their dream homes because their income has dried up.

So far, SM and I have been lucky, we are making ends meet but we honestly don't know from one week to the next how long he will have a job. And it's not like we can just pull up stakes and move to a new job in a new city cuz things are rough ALL OVER.

Last fall, Superman's father underwent a major heart bypass surgery. We almost lost him. SM's brother also underwent the same procedure a couple years ago and he is still a young guy. Superman is almost 47 years old. He doesn't eat healthy and he works in a very physical, high stress job. Add to that the stress of providing for me and the kids and the man is a walking time bomb. I am not so naive as to think it can't happen to us.

This has been weighing heavily on my mind over the last few months. I worry for my love's health and his peace of mind. I'm coming to the realization that having the nice home and driving the nice car does not bring security. I don't feel any safer. I don't worry about money any less. In fact, I think this house is nothing but a constant reminder to my super hero that his job is never done.

I've decided that it all comes down to sacrifice. Sacrificing the material in exchange for the spiritual. Giving up my home that when we moved in I thought was perfect for our family. Even though it makes me sad, at the same time I can't help but think what a relief it will be to unload that sucker and have a rent payment that is half of what we are currently paying.

Having come to a decision, Superman and I have been scouring the newspapers, checking online and making phone calls. I can't believe the rent people are charging for sub par housing these days. It seems like everybody is trying to make a buck. But I am ready to do this. Honestly, I can't wait. We have put in some applications on some rentals and, fingers crossed, there is a certain one that, yes, it's older, a little smelly and has really bad carpets. But it has a beautiful fenced yard, a lovely field at the back, a perfect spot for a garden and it's in a quiet safe neighborhood. I am PRAYING we get it. It's small and humble and wonderful.

I see good things on our horizon. I see us able to shirk off our material possessions and enjoy life more. I see a smile on Superman's face when he comes home from work instead of worry and fatigue. I see him healthy and stress free. I see us paying off debt and putting money aside for our little slice of heaven in Brisbane. I think it's a worthy goal. I think its worth any sacrifice.

I would so much appreciate your prayers and good wishes that we get this little rental house. We'll have a BBQ to celebrate and you're all invited! We'll burn candles and maybe the carpets to get the smell out (ha ha) and hopefully you'll see a new me, a new us. Someone who is looking forward to all the good things the future has in store for us. And I know that when it's all said and done, it won't feel so much like a sacrifice but more like a blessing. A sense of real peace and joy. In this world, what more could I ask for?