Sorry for the absence...

We had a death in the family.  My MIL died after a 9 month battle with brain cancer.

Her death caused lots of strife between my husband and myself.   Plainly put, I didn't really like her.  But not for the normal "over involved, not good enough for my son" reasons you might think.  Rather, it's because she was a crappy mom.  She took off when my husband was 10, leaving him and his siblings in the care of a bipolar, alcoholic father.  They didn't hear from her for two years, even though she was in the same state less than 400 miles away.  She needed to "find herself". 

When she did come back, she spent the next 25 years coming in and out of my husband, and by extension, my life.  She'd pout if she wasn't included in something, yet she wouldn't have known my kids from Adam if they were walking down the street.  Yet to hear her tell it, she was a loving and involved grandmother.  In 21 years, she never attended or remembered any of my kids birthdays or Christmas.  But there would be hell to pay if we forgot hers.

She would guilt my husband in to loaning her money we didn't have for her hare brained get rich quick schemes.  Just when it would appear that things were settling down and starting to work out, she would purposely sabotage things and pick up and leave.  She left a good job, a house and my then 17 year old brother in law in Laughlin, Nevada so she could go pursue her next opportunity.  She didn't tell him what she was planning- she just called while he was out visiting us to tell him that she wouldn't be there when he got back, and the rent was paid through the end of the month (2 weeks away).

This is a woman who abandoned her kids emotionally, physically and financially for her entire life.  To say it screwed them all up is an understatement.  As a result, my husband took on the care of 4 younger siblings at at time when he should have been playing with Star Wars figurines.  He's never seen a normal family that works up close.  He has no role model for being a either a father or a husband.

So fast forward on to her death.  Despite all that this woman had put him through, my husband always had hope she would change.  Her death means that won't ever happen and my husband will always be left wanting.  He's turned back in to a scared and lost little boy, and I don't know how to help him.  Instead, he spends hours on the phone with his brothers and sisters,  pulling further and further away from me and our daughters.  Between funeral arrangements, left over bills and one sibling who refused to attend, it caused stress.

So I'm angry.  Even in death, she's managed to screw him up even further. And I'm not allowed to say a word about it.  If I do, I'm not supportive.  So I bite my tongue and grow even angrier at someone who didn't give a hoot about what I though while she was alive, and certainly doesn't care now.

No Housework Day

Housework really isn't my thing.  Now, I love coming home to a clean house just as much as the next gal.  But actually doing it?  Well, that ranks up there with getting a root canal.  Actually, scratch that.  You have a limited number of teeth to get drilled, but a nearly limitless number of times you clean the house.

So starting today, I'm declaring Thursdays my official "No Housework Day".  Beds can stay unmade.  Someone else can load the dishwasher.  No grocery shopping. No laundry. No nothing. 

Just me and the blogosphere.

I think I just might like this.

What do you want out of life?

Are you leading the life you always dreamed of?  If not, why not?

Certainly, when I married all those years ago, I didn't expect to be where I am today.  I expected to be a hot-shot Nurse Practioner in a private practice group. I expected my husband would own his own Architectural Firm.  I expected my kids to be well behaved, polite and over-achievers. I expected to live in La Jolla, take fabulous vacations and drive a brand new BMW.

Instead, an injury threw me out of the work place nearly 10 years ago.  I live in daily pain. My husband got laid off, again.  My oldest daughter drives me crazy on a daily basis.  The middle one is a surly teen.  And the youngest is struggling in school. Oh, and I'm no where near a beach, haven't been on vacation in 6 years and we won't even begin to talk about my car.

So how did I end up here?  I'm really not sure.  Obviously, I screwed up somewhere.  And not just somewhere, multiple somewheres.  I wake up angry every day.  That is, when I can drag myself out of bed at all. 15 years of working night shift has completely thrown my body for a loop.  Given my druthers, I would be up all night and sleep all day.  But real life doesn't allow me to do that. Real life means the alarm clock goes off at 6 a.m. so I can get the kids off to school.  Real life means the dogs need to go out or they will leave me with a not-so-nice present on the floor.

Real life sucks.

How this blog came to be...

So if you've stumbled upon this blog, you might be wondering how this all came about.  Simply, it's because I wanted a place to share my thoughts.  But some of my thoughts are not the kind I want to share with those closest to me.  Some things, in order to maintain the status quo, are best left unsaid.  

It's not that I don't love my husband or my kids or my friends or my neighbors.  It's just that there are some things they won't understand. But that's where you, dear reader, come in.  

If you've found this blog, chances are that you, too, leave things unsaid, but not un-thought or un-felt.  So this is our safe place.  A place where we can share the things that go through our heads.  The things that make us question are sanity.  The things we long to say, but know we can't.

This is our soft place to land.