Still running for the cheese (or why this blog still exists)

As my regular readers can tell, this has been a dry year for me. Just look at the number of posts this year vs. 2008! Awhile back, I had considered either shutting down the Maze, or starting a new blog that would more accurately reflect where I am in life now. Truth be told, sometimes I come here, look around, and feel distinctly hypocrytical about the things I want to write. I'm sure I'm not the only one to ever be in that kind of place.
As the time in between posts has grown longer, I came to realize something. Without the past years' material, where I am now makes very little sense. What good is the destination without the journey? As Christians, so much of the best stuff that happens to us is in the times God is molding us to His image. To throw away the evidence of that process would somehow cheapen the result, I think.
So, here we are, dear friends. I think my little mousie may just have rounded a corner finally. Some things will change around here to reflect the changes in my heart. And you know what? That's ok. As much as I typically rage against anything changed in my life, I'm learning to accept the God-given ones. My prayer is that some of you may be encouraged by what you read here. Hey, you may even be challenged. And of course, if you know me, then you know you always stand a good chance of being offended too. Not intentionally, to be sure! Just know that what you find as you wander this Maze with me may surprise you as much as it does me.

All that to say this:

Welcome to

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

How come I didn't get a copy?

These days, I hear a lot about the so-called homosexual agenda. For those not in the know, I once identified myself as bisexual. I had girlfriends. I had boyfriends. I'm not ashamed.
Now though, I have come to realize that, at least for me, most of my earlier sexual escapades were a release of the pain I was going through at home growing up. I now call myself straight. Maybe a bit too straight for my own good at times, but hey, we all have our faults. (I smell another post coming out of that one)
We have family members and friends who identify as GBL. (gay, bi, lesbian) If I have ill will towards any of them, it's because of things that have happened, not who they've banged.
Because of all these things, I find it impossible to get on the bandwagon when those around speak of boycotts and agendas. I dunno, maybe I'm just not a very good Christian in that sense. Then again, I can't help but think that if Jesus were standing bodily among us, most wouldn't say half the things they do. After all, He promised not to abandon, and that no sin is too great to forgive. (yeah, yeah, I know, blasphemy of the Holy Spirit, but sexual activity *is not* that) So I really doubt He'd be any less inclined to embrace, forgive, disciple, and befriend "the gays" than He would any of us other sorry sinners.
Aside from that, each time I hear that phrase, my first thought is, "Why didn't I get a copy of our agenda? Waahhh!"

Til next squeak,

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Ten on Tuesday

I'm beginning to wonder if I should start a separate category for memes.
This one is different and I like it. It's over at

10 Superstitions, Traditions, and/or Personality Quirks

1) I read years ago that back when they were settling New England, people would put on their left shoe first for good luck. I've done that ever since.
2) I'm addicted to Bonne Bell Lip Smackers. Particularly those giant glue stick sized ones they sell in the summer time. Mmmm.
3) I need to have the light on when I'm in the room. I just can't handle anything less, like candle light.
4) We try to give our kids memories for their birthdays, rather than gifts.
5) I can't do my natural hair color. Bleah. I've settled for high lights.
6) It freaks me out to no end to touch my eye. I still can't wear contacts to this day.
7) I am obsessed with my kids having clean noses.
8) I collect energy drink pop top tabs. I have over 200 of them. Some are displayed on my key ring.
9) I really enjoy the feel of writing. I mean the physical feel. I could just be writing my name over and over, and would still find it enjoyable.
10) I have almost no sense of when to shut up. Combine that with zero knowledge of what makes people uncomfortable, and I'm great for parties and PTA meetings.

Til next squeak,

When you wander

You never know what you'll find. YouTube has got it all, that's for sure! Now, if you've read my sticky post, you know of my, ermmm obsession, with this flick. Imagine my surprise when I came along this gem. Yeah definitely a keeper! Sorry Mr. P., but ooooh he is GORGEOUS!
I have got to get a copy of this movie somehow...

Random weirdness is good for you

Sometimes you just need a little bit of strangeness to get through the day. This one makes me chuckle. Family Force 5's Luv Addict. Enjoy!

Do birds type like this?

I can't believe I missed the Monday Meme.
I skipped out on my nightly 'puter time last night because I was in agony. For some reason, my left hand has decided it's part bird. I'm back to the hunt-and-peck school of typing and it's making me nuts.
If you're lost by that statement, let me clarify. My hand has been clawed up for 3 days now, much like how a bird will grab whatever its perched on. It's outrageously painful, and not possible to move. Works well for scooping fish out of a stream in mid-flight though.
This has been a come and go kinda thing since Christmas eve. My doc says it's because I need to lose more weight. Hmmm. Yeah. Somehow I'm not buying that. I'm much more inclined to believe it has something to do with the fact that, oh I dunno, I broke my wrist back on Christmas eve maybe? But that's the fun of being morbidly obese. No one will listen to you and actually hear what you are saying. It must be like they are hearing the teacher from Charlie Brown, with the occasional "eat eat eat" tossed in.
~deep with the good air, out with the anger~
OK, so maybe I'm a bit jaded and bitter. Maybe living in pain for 3 years without a doc who'll take me seriously is getting to me. And maybe this hand thing is the straw that broke the camel's, ermm cow's, back.
Bah. All this self-pity is for the birds.

Til next squeak,

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Link 'em up time

Ran across this today. Go check it out and see if you're not nodding along in agreement as you read. C'mon, I dare you!

Til next squeak,

Decisions, decisions...


I'm indecisive. Very. Indecisive. Always have been.

Earlier today, I was filling out all the forms for Tank's kindergarten registration. Wow, how time flies when you're buggin' out about other things! Included in the packet the school sent was the form to fill out if you want to withhold your child from a formal education until age 6. (for some odd reason that's an option here in CT) I really didn't think much of it except to stick it with the rest of the meaningless papers all piled up next to my love seat.

The boys' bath time just gets worse and worse. I'm beginning to realize that I need to either separate them for baths or stick 'em in the shower instead. Bleah. Today was no exception. When I went into the bathroom to yell *again* at them to calmdownstopsplashingstopdrinkingthedirtybathwaterwhyareyoupouringitoutonthefloor?!?!? ~breathe~ I had to ask (although I somehow regretting this) whether or not they could hear me hollering from my bedroom or if they were just blatantly ignoring me. My bedroom is directly across the hall from the bathroom, but I *did* have on the computer with music playing, so maybe they didn't hear. Right?
MonkeyMan pipes up in true fashion and says, "We were blatantly ignoring you, Mom."
Tank adds, "But that's only because we too busy splashing."
~sigh...count to 10...remember your happy place~
I'll freely admit I did not handle it as well as I should've. I made my kids cry. Someone pass the Worst Mom Award.

Back to the school thing.
Now I'm wondering if the homeschoolers might not have a point. My kids *can* be the sweetest, most respectful little kids...when they want to be. However, for the most part, they have been getting worse in the attitude department lately. I'm loathe to say that it's being in school that's done it to them. Just as much as I'm loathe to say that it's the TV watching I allow. But there are certain things that I as their mother am responsible for, and raising them not to be little smartass terrors is high on my to-do list. (sorry Mr. P. I know you would love for them to take after you. LOL)
The real question is could I handle it? I'm definitely NOT the world's most stable person. Nor am I the most loving. I'm probably the one who *shouldn't* be influencing the next generation. At least that's what I tell myself. With all my flaws, problems, and struggles, should I really consider taking on homeschooling? Even if it were only for as limited a time as one semester?
Then again, I am beginning to feel that it would teach the kids who's really in charge of this show. (yes, I know God is, but I meant under my roof as parental authority)
Decisions, decisions...

Til next squeak,

Monday, April 21, 2008

A happy happy birthday

Last Saturday was MonkeyMan's 7th birthday. Time flies when you're not payin' attention!

We were able to give him a real birthday for the first time. I think that gave Mr. P. a sense of pride that he has never had before. It was truly the most perfect day we could've asked for.
Earlier in the week, we were very brave (or quite stupid, depending on which way you slice it) and decided to invite all the family to our place for dinner and presents. For those who aren't in the know, there hasn't been a meeting of the in-laws (i.e. both sides of the fam) since our wedding almost 6 years ago. Yeah. That bad. Well, everyone behaved! Shock and amazement! (no, really)
The weather was beautiful. We had the windows open and the fresh air flowing. Our favorite pizza in abundance, and MonkeyMan got many of the gifts he wanted.
Then the 4 of us, plus the kids' former foster mom who is also Mr. P.'s aunt, went to Wrestlefest 12 over at Mr. P.'s old high school. It was a fundraiser put on by the NEW (Northeast Wrestling). One of Mr. P.'s old buddies wrestles for them and helped us get pretty good tickets at the last minute. Thanks again Kurt!
I really think the kids held up well, considering they were both exhausted to the extreme. Tank has been over sensitive to noise lately, so I don't think he enjoyed it as much as MonkeyMan did. We got lots of pics and even though we had to leave before it ended because it was getting too late, I really think the memories made will be treasured.
Mr. P. is particularly proud of this picture. It's him, MonkeyMan, and Samoa Joe!

Now I admit I was so impressed by this lady. Awesome Kong looks way scary on tv, but in real life, she is just so nice! She sang MonkeyMan a little birthday song and spent time chatting with the kids before this pic was taken. Yes, that's me. I'm a huge fan and couldn't help but a little childlike excited over this.

I'll pop up a few of the other decent shots I got, though I warn you. I'm a lousy photographer! I'm just learning this whole digital thing and well, I was never the best to begin with. LOL.

My menfolk before the show.

Here's Kurt, looking wounded at the crowd's booing. LOL.

One of the few cool action shots I got. :)

Til next squeak,

Relocation Realization

I think I said somewhere in an earlier post that we would be having to move. Then again, I might not. Honestly, I can't tell up from down these days so who knows.
Anywho, we're moving. Not terribly willingly, nor very happy about but here we are. Man, I HATE apartment hunting. There's just something about putting your whole family out on the chopping block like that that has always made me ill. It's amazing how almost 4 years of stability hasn't changed that.
Last week, I finally got up the nerve to start calling landlords and looking at units. Blargh. Now that I could do without. It seems that each one I've called still has their tenant in the unit, and yet wants to show it. How awkward! I've never been one to intrude on another's space, but in this case, it's even worse for me. Here I am, looking through their home with a critical eye, trying to see if my family wold be a good fit instead. I'm not cut out for this.
Friday I went to view an apartment that is, in my opinion, the ideal location. I really loved it. Now, Mr. P. had to work and for the first time ever, I was faced with a nerve wracking, major decision on my own. I was practically in tears! In 9 years, he has always been by my side for these things. Needless to say, I was not in a good spot emotionally upon entering the building to begin with.
It was a 2 bedroom unit on the 3rd floor, so I assumed a family lived there. Well folks, you all know what they what happens when you assume, right?
Mr. CCC (that's short for creepy cat collector) led me up to the unit.

First thing he said is, "You're not allergic to cats, are you?"
Silly me, "No, why? Do you have a few?"
Triple C just giggled.

Now try as I might, I just could not look at the apartment for what it was. I wanted to get the heck outta there. It wasn't the cats, though there were at least 5 by my count. And it wasn't the fact that I was up there alone with a strange man, which given my past, I doubt anyone would wonder why I was ill at ease.
No, it was that lunatic giggle.
I rather suspect that the 2nd bedroom was for the cats. Now what does that say about the tenant?
I will say that what I saw of the unit I liked. My only complaint was the tiny kitchen, but then again, it may not have been as small as my mind thinks. So I called the landlord today to ask a few questions about that unit and to see about viewing another of his units. Hmmm, that didn't sound too great.
This whole process has made me realize a few things though. As much as I have a tendency to complain about where we live now, we really are blessed in many ways here. We have a large apartment. Our kitchen is truly bigger than any we've had before. I'm deeply spoiled by 2 floor living. Having 1.5 baths has come in handy more than a few times. I really shouldn't complain. Just having it sink in that no matter where we end up, we will be down sizing is a hard thing for me to swallow. (mixing metaphors again) I know this will be hard. I am so afraid of winding up in a bad neighborhood like we were before we moved to where we are now. I'm afraid of having such a small apartment that we will be forced to move in a year again. We are looking for a place to settle for at least 5 years or so. In plain words, this sucks...units.
At least we are in a better place in many ways than when we first came here 4 years ago. We're older, wiser, and stronger. Mr. P. is in a much better position in his job. We're making double the annual amount we did before. Our DCF case is closed and that's a biggie there. And most importantly, we have the Section 8 now. Hopefully we won't screw that up.
And hey who knows? Maybe we'll get a landlord with a heart. Stranger things have happened right?

Til next squeak,

Monday Meme

Hard to believe another week has flown by, yet here we are! (actually thanks Cat because without this meme, I'd rarely know my days lately)

1) If you could have participated in any political march (protest or support or other), which one would you have chosen. Urgh. This is hard because I'm not very political. I guess I'd have to say I'd march against anything Dub-ya related, merely on principal. Man that guy's a prick. So glad I never voted for him, and doubly glad he's outties this year.

2) Talent show tonight!! Give us a preview of your act. Most who know me well will say at this point that I would be the last person to get up on stage. LOL. Back in the day though? Ah, music was my thing. So I guess I could get up and show off some bad karaoke. Only if someone throws in some Malibu and Annette gets up there with me though!!

3) What architectural wonder would you like to be in charge of, or own? Oooh, or own? Hmmm I'm sick of renting....
OK seriously though, I'd love to claim stake to the Louvre. Although a word to Mr. P. about people in glass houses....(heheheh, I *know* it's not all glass)

4) What is the hardest test you've ever taken? ~snorts~ ALL OF 'EM!! I dunno, I suppose the hardest would be anything with math. Oh wait, it came to me. That stupid pointless CAPT test in 10th grade!! I think any former CT student may agree. Hard for the sheer ridiculousness of it all. (btw, I failed for having an asthma attack that required me to go to the nurses office)

5) Show and Tell. What comes to mind first when you see this picture? Or, tell a story if it reminds you of one. (can anyone tell me how to get the pic to actually show up on here???)
Looks like something out of a museum. With the previous questions about talent and tests, my mind is already on high school so I'm reminded of our band trip to Washington DC. Naturally, I'm taken back to how much I loved visiting the Smithsonian each time I've been able to go. :)

Til next squeak,

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Geese, ganders, and chastity belts

This Sunday in church, Mr. P. and I were put in a position where we were both quite uncomfortable. Thankfully, we both agreed on this topic without much discussion, but it still made for an awkward ten minutes or so.
There was a guest couple from Africa who were there and the wife believes it is her calling to promote abstinence. Now, for sure, where they come from HIV/AIDS is a major problem and one that abstinence would provide at least some degree of counter attack, if you will. Anywho, our pastor asked for all the parents of kids under age 18, all young women under age 35, and all young married couples to come to the altar so that this woman could pray over them for "the blessing of virginity and abstinence".
Mr. P. and I just looked at each other and shook our heads. I whispered to him that since we were still not sure where we stood on that particular topic we should not bring our sons up. He definitely agreed, and dashed out for a smoke. (just so you all know, he *did* later apologize for leaving me high and dry...)
Oh the dirty looks my mother shot me when she realized I wasn't bringing the kids up!!
The first thing you should understand, dear reader, is that MonkeyMan was 17 months old at the time Mr. P. made me his wife. So I personally do not feel comfortable telling my kids to keep their bits and pieces to themselves when their own parents could not.
Secondly, and I'm not sure how Mr. P. feels about this, but as a survivor of sexual assault, I understand all too well that virginity may not be something you ultimately have any control over. I don't think I'm comfortable raising my kids to believe they are worthless if they have sex before marriage, and then should one of them become assaulted. Just think of the additional trauma they would endure, believing they then had no worth to me, or to the Lord!
Third, I was not thrilled with the notion I got from this exercise at church that it is a girl's problem to keep her legs closed until marriage. Now, I may have been wrong, but that is the impression I got. I know Mr. P. agrees with me that what's good for the goose is good for the gander. Either promote abstinence to *all* your children or none of them.
Fourth, and I admit maybe this is because of my past, I really don't think sex is the big deal people of faith make it out to be. Granted, I've done a lot of things in my life that I'm not proud of. Oh, man! But willingly having sex before I met Mr. P., and with Mr. P. before we wed, is not one of them. I do not long to have been a virgin for him. And I know he does not long to have been a virgin for me. I have heard plenty of people say that unless you are a virgin, you won't have trust in your marriage. Unless you are a virgin, your marriage won't last. Simply not true folks. Let's not scare young kids like this just to satisfy some regret in the parents own past.
Back to church. I was literally the only mother sitting in the pews with her kids, while everyone else was up receiving prayer and anointing. And in a strange way, I feel good about it. I took a stand for *my* beliefs, no matter how off-putting they may be. And what's more, Mr. P. and I were on the same page, for the same reasons. It doesn't get much better than that.
Maybe one day we'll be less liberal. Maybe one day we'll fit in more with the church as a whole. But for now, we're glad to be in this together, raising our little ganders. And saving the chastity belt for any little goose that may come along. ;)

Til next squeak,

Monday, April 14, 2008

Monday Meme

It's that time again!! Yipee! Another one from Curious as a Cat:

1) Of all the children you know, who do you think will be the most successful? Why? Mine!! ~proud mama grin~ No seriously, if only because they have some very scary people to kick their butts if they screw up.

2) If you found out that someone you just met is a recovering alcoholic, would that change the way you felt about them? How? OK, first off, what runs through my mind at this one is taking the Lord's name in vain. I HATE HATE HATE any addict. I am a firm believer in "once an addict, always an addict". I know that will offend people, and frankly, I don't care. Aside from my own father and mother-in-law, I personally know of a man who had almost 20 years (20 FUCKING YEARS) of sobriety under his belt when he started up again, and in the end, tried to kill his wife and step-kids. So, if I met someone, liked them just fine, found out they were a dirty drunk, I'd never speak to them again. Pretty venom filled and blatant huh?

3) What one possession would you like to take with you to heaven (or equivalent)? I'd love to take my Keurig to heaven!! LOL! I'm such a freak for fresh coffee, and I promise I'd share with Jesus.

4) Who is the closest to being an angel of everyone you know? My aunt Diane. She has been through so much, and is such a joy to be around. Truly a godly woman and such a gem.

5) Show and Tell. What comes to mind first when you see this picture? Or, tell a story if it reminds you of one. (foggy rolling hills) Makes me think of my few trips to Vermont. Which inevitably makes me think of my in-laws. ~shudder~

Til next squeak,

The gift that keeps on giving

Admittedly, that title is very sarcastic. Today's post is on child abuse. It really will keep on coming back to haunt you, years after the fact. I did 4 years of therapy and still, from time to time, it all floods back and gets the better of me.
For those who don't know, I grew up in a very abusive home. My father was a violent alcoholic who lashed out at anyone within reach. Mostly, it was the verbal/emotional abuse that people knew of. However, he was also physically and sexually abusive too. Mom wasn't much help. I'm still not sure quite why but she never did divorce him. I truly don't buy her excuses that she would have to pay him, that she couldn't afford us kids, blah blah blah. There was something more under it, but exactly what I'll never know. Not that I think I even want to.
In a previous post (the title escapes me), I told the basic outline of my story of meeting Mr. P. and getting out of my family's home. I really don't know what I would've done without him. He is truly a Godsend. Even though I got out as soon as I could, those 18 years not only traumatized me, but shaped who I am.
Yesterday in church, our pastor was saying that God never makes mistakes. He was talking about how we all have roles within the body of Christ. Lord, that just broke me inside. Where I am now is about finding my place, and much of that is now overcoming the hurt of the small child I once was. I bottled it up long ago, and never dealt with it in my years of therapy. I made so much progress in acknowledging the sexual assaults, and not only facing but overcoming the aftermath of that. Now, I am stuck in this place where I am trying to come to terms with the emotional abuse. It seems in recent days no matter where I turn, there is something there to remind me. Whether it's an article on some one's blog, or an episode of Law and Order, or simply the way someone in the store speaks to their child, it's there all over again. I have to wonder if it will ever end, this constant sabotage of the past. How many years will I have to pay for the sins of my father? Will there come a day when I can hear someone say that I was not a mistake in God's eyes and not be near mental breakdown?
There is this feeling that by talking about it, I am just being whiny. I know so many people who've been through this. So many who've had addicted, abusive parents. So many who've wandered through life feeling worthless. Why does that make my personal journey any different? Well, it doesn't. But if nothing else, I know I can ramble, rant, rave, and generally vent here because after all, it's not as though anyone *has* to read any of this. Well, except for Mr. P. unless he wants to sleep on the couch. ;)

Til next squeak,

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Dreams may come

I have always been an overly vivid dreamer. Nightmares will cause me to cry out in my sleep (I think Mr. P. has adjusted to that over the years), and ermmm *tactile sensations* seem very real. I dream in Technicolor. Beat that, Joseph.
I've always kinda wondered if there was a reason to these dreams. There have been some that have recurred since early childhood. I have only now begun to understand some of those ones. Sometimes it's easy to interpret my dreams. For example, last night's, uh, dalliance with a guy from a TV was the result of watching said show with Mr. P. a lot lately. (stop howling with laughter Mr. P. and just leave your comment in the appropriate form ~sticks out tongue~) Other dreams aren't quite so easy to figure out. I have ones that seem to jump randomly from scene to scene. Those ones are unusual, and are the ones that often make wonder.
This post was started because I am close to bedtime, and like the title says, I was thinking to myself, "Hmmm dreams may come tonight." I am hoping for a recurrence of this one, the one I'll leave you all with for tonight:

I found myself randomly in a desert region, yet I wasn't feeling particularly warm. Dressed in cream colored linen wraps, I wondered what was to happen. Around me were rocks, and what I had always imagined sagebrush to look like. Not another person for miles. I just sat by one of the larger rocks, leaning over it, and looked out over this new environment. My dreaming mind turned to Jesus, and wondered if this was how the land looked in His time. Next I knew, a man was next to me, silently taking my hand. We flew over the desert, not a word spoken. As night fell, the stars emerged in glory, and I knew what this stranger was trying to show me. Take His hand, and it's a strange but wondrous path. Take His hand, and don't look back. Take His hand, and live for the Kingdom come.

Til next squeak,

Friday, April 11, 2008

Toast points??

Those of you who also read Mr. P.'s blog know that we've been ill this past week or so. Passing around bronchitis and sinus infections. Mmmmm yummy. Now personally I prefer my lung butter on toast points.
Back to our regularly scheduled blogging!

Til next squeak,

Monday, April 7, 2008

Monday Meme

Hey it's Monday and you know what that means...MEMES!!
Thanks agains froms Curious as a Cat!

1) What one expression of gratitude that you made would you like to retract. Anything I ever said to "T". Yeah that about covers it. Eeesh.

2) In what part of the world--other than where you are now--would you most like to live? I think Mr. P. will have kittens on this one, but I would love to pack up and move the fam to the Midwest. It just seems so...wholesome...there.

3) What do you think the role of religion should be in today's world? Ermmm....OK so I *should* believe that all people should follow Christ and that all governments be a Christian theocracy. *SHOULD* but I don't. God gave us all free will. That includes the right to reject His offer of salvation. Then again, I also think there is a *huge* difference between religion and faith. So to each their own, until the Holy Spirit nudges me to witness to them specifically. ;)

4) What was the most romantic moment of your life? (Details!!) I just read Mr. P.'s and can't believe I'd almost forgotten that day! For me, the most romantic day was the day Mr. P. proposed. We had just found out I was pregnant with MonkeyMan and although I had *just known* that Mr. P. was the one for me, I was worried about where we would end up from there. We were on our way up to the Twin Colonies diner in my old dying station wagon, when Mr. P. started yelling, "Pull over! Pull over!!"
I was so scared, thinking that my radiator was going again.
I pulled over (ironically babe, in the CVS parking lot) and after he convinced me that nothing was wrong with my car, he pulled out this cheap little ring I had won him up at Kahunaville. My heart jumped into my throat, and I knew this was the moment I'd waited for my whole life. He talked about how it wasn't much but it was all he had, and how much he loved me and this new baby that was coming. After a good ten minutes of rambling, he said, "Would you?"
Well, the rest is history.
I still tear up thinking about that night. :)

5) Show and Tell. What comes to mind first when you see this picture? Or, tell a story if it reminds you of one. (little purple flowers)
Just makes me think of the flowers that grew in my backyard as a kid. Pretty and purple and easily stomped.

Til next squeak,

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Falling Short

I have a tendency to compare myself to others. Not just people who are similar to me, and not just others that I aspire to be like. I'm talking about people who I have nothing in common with, and some who I barely get along with.
It's a bad habit, I know.
I've never been able to compare myself to myself. Very rare is the moment when I can look back at my life and say, "Oh hey, you've come far.", without adding in some kind of knock at myself for not being like so-and-so, or what's-her-face.
The feeling of constantly falling short is one I have lived with my whole life. I cannot begin to imagine what it would be to live without it. I really gotta give some props to Mr. P. for putting up with this aspect of my personality for so long. If it annoys me at times, it's really gotta get on his nerves.
I have gotten the impression from people over the years that some think I am this way because I am looking for attention, or an ego stroking. Hmmm. Kinda hard to stroke something that's not there. (Mr. P., no comments about stroking I swear I'll delete 'em!!)
After awhile, it gets to the point where I remove myself from all contact with others. I have had people tell me that as a Christian, I absolutely should never isolate myself from the Body of Christ (not that I'm around other Christians much as it is), but I find that the only time I am truly concentrating on the Lord is when I am away from everyone else and all the "politics" of faith.
All that to say that when I feel low like this I find it even harder to turn to others, but especially harder to turn to Christ. I do not know why that is, but that's how I am. Mr. P. could probably give more insight on this. He is almost always the first to point out that I am withdrawing from him, and then the world in general. That's what it's felt like lately. The only ones I truly want to connect with are my husband, my kids, and my Savior. Everyone else can bugger off. Not the nicest attitude for someone proclaiming Christ I know, but I think more people feel this way, at least some of the time, than they care to admit. It would certainly explain all the fighting one sees amongst Christians.
One thing I notice in myself more often when I feel "flattened" is that I am more sensitive to the fact that outside of a few online interactions, I have no friends. I really do not know how to make friends either, which is probably strange for someone in their late twenties to say, but it's true. I feel as awkward as a kindergartner on the first day of school when it comes to making conversation. And nothing will make you feel like you come up short like feeling like a 5 year old.
So now it's late and until Mr. P. comes home from Da Lounge, I'm stuck here with my thoughts.
Time to go find a distraction.

Til next squeak,

A Sunday meme of sorts

This rather "deep" one is from Blog Talkers. #67, I might add. ;)

Be honest …
What is your most important goal in life? Why? (Please elaborate) How do you propose to get there? (Or how did you accomplish it). What sort of sacrifices will (or did) you have to make in order to achieve this goal? Once you’ve accomplished this goal, how will this change your life?

My most important goal in life was regaining custody of my kids. Yeah. Hands down, that was the single most important thing I have ever done. I think the why is pretty obvious but hey, let's define it, shall we? For one, it really confirmed to me that this life, this mommy-life, is truly what I wanted and needed. And for another, in a sick and strange way, it proved that whenever Mr. P. and I set our minds to something, we'll take everyone down 'til we get it done.
We worked our tails off, doing whatever DCF told us too. Jump? You got it! We didn't even ask how high, we just got to leapin'! It was the longest year and 27 days of my life, running on someone else's every whim like that.
I think the biggest sacrifice I personally made, aside from the obvious one of time in my kids lives' lost, was the idea that one day we'd have both sides of the family be able to mesh together happily, if only for the sake of the kids. Oh that went down the tubes quick. I rarely speak to my in-laws, and Mr. P. had to go through hell to get back in my mother's good graces. Really, that's not saying much though. I guess you'd have to know my mom.
The whole thing with having had the kids in foster care really changed my life in that I can't look at myself as a good mother, even though I *know* I am not that same person anymore. In my mind, I know I have worked hard, and come far to be this much better mother I am today. Tank will often say, "You're the best mommy we never had." Yeah, 4 year old speak. But in my heart, I still can't bring myself to feel like even a halfway decent mother. There's still that feeling of, "Well if you were a *good* mom, they never would've been taken in the first place." I guess time will heal that wound. I know the DCF case closing has at least scabbed it over. ;)

Til next squeak,

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