Anniversary (11)

Eleven years.

The hubby and I are about to celebrate eleven years of marriage this coming Saturday.

Eleven years.

If you quickly think about it, you wonder how you it has been eleven years.

But if you really sit down and think about it, then you do see that it has been that long.

Surprising, but yes it has been eleven years since I married that man of mine.

When I think about how long we have been married, it makes me think about how long we have actually been together.

Almost eighteen years. WOW.

That is a lifetime.

Eighteen years together.

Eleven years married.

One house.

Death of my grandmother.

Two cats.

Three kids.

Three boys.

One heart-shattering death.

Two bouts of cancer (my mom).

Death of grandmother, grandfather, aunt (hubby).

Four cars.

Three jobs.

Celebrating 16 years at the same office (me) this July.

One bout of cancer (my dad).

One job transfer (hubby) within same company.

Two promotions (hubby).

School officially started for one of the boys.

Death of one of our kitties.

Hired as a writer for an online magazine.

Death of my father-in-law.

Card business slowly getting off the ground.

Within a day of losing my dad due to sepsis (caught and treated).

Books being written.

Many vacations have been taken.

More vacations being planned.

Saving for a new house.

Hoping to move next year.

Many books being read.

Many more books waiting to be read.

 

Over the last eleven years, we have seen life and death.

Happy life.

Sorrow filled death.

Through it all, we have stood side by side – the life we have created and the death that shattered us both has changed us but we are still together.

Yesterday.

Today.

Tomorrow.

We will always have our moments we may not necessarily get along but we are 2 independent people with our own thoughts and feelings, opinions and interest. These may not always mesh but we accept it and we try to learn from it.

We have endured somethings that other couples will never endure and we have endured less then even other couples have.

Eleven years. We love one another and that is what matters.

Eleven years. Some days it does feel that long. Some days it does not.

I look back on pictures from our wedding and wonder where did those 2 kids go. The answer… Life.

So babe, let’s continue this – let’s continue to walk hand in hand and see where the next eleven years takes us.

Adventures – most likely.

More heartache – most definitely.

Continued love – always and forever.

Thanks,

Marisa

Photo by freestocks.org on Unsplash

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Beautiful

Not something I would use to describe myself. Ever. I could go into the reasons, but we are not going to get into all of that.

This past weekend I caught Aden staring at me so I asked him why he was staring.

His response: “Because you’re beautiful momma.”

When I hear words such as these it is hard to not dismiss them.

You see no one but family has ever said I was pretty or beautiful. As usual it is hard to believe those closest to you as you feel they just tell you what you want to hear.

Who does not want to be told they are beautiful.

The only times I have ever really and truly felt beautiful, there are 2:

1. When I got married.

2. The time I had a professional photo shoot done in a rockabilly style.

(I have other pictures around the house from this photo shoot – but this is my favorite.)

Both included dressing up and makeup and getting my hair done, etc.

I desperately want to believe my son in all his innocence see me as such. But when you have gone so long barely looking in the mirror or trying desperately to look past the image you see – it is hard. I can not retrain my thought process in an instance. In a moment. In a day. In a month. In a year. Something so ingrained is hard to chip away at to re-work. To re-evaluate. To see what others might see. We all tend to have blinders on in certain instances of our everyday life.

My self-confidence or lack there of is so ingrained into me.

Where it came from – who knows. Maybe my own pre-conceived notions. Maybe seeing others who look like they could be models (maybe they are). Maybe seeing that I was not the one asked out on dates except for a few times. Most likely I will never know. Maybe seeing that my one and only boyfriend happened in college and I married him. (Thanks for picking me babe.) Maybe it was my shyness – my extreme shyness. Maybe it was looks. Maybe – maybe – who knows. Not like we go up to others and ask why or what.

Maybe it is seeing the worlds concept of pretty and beautiful. What others see as these adjectives. These descriptions.

TV. Movies. Music.

A world we see from the outside knowing we will never match up to the worlds concept.

Sometimes I feel that maybe for me it goes beyond looks – what I accomplish in my lifetime. Maybe I am not meant to be known as beautiful – but to do something more. I have yet to figure that out, I can only hope I do figure it out and while I try I will still feel the urge to roll my eyes and dismiss those in my life who might call me pretty or beautiful. Even my own child. Believing they are liars. Maybe one day I can get to the point of at least saying “Thank you” upon receipt of a compliment. Even if I don’t necessarily believe their words.

No guarantees.

No promises.

I am who I am.

I am Marisa.

I am 36.

I am married.

I am a mother.

I am a crafter.

I am a writer.

I am a little crazy.

I am shy.

I am me.

I love my family.

I love reading.

I love writing.

I love brownies.

I love Italian food.

I love Mexican food.

I love the color blue.

I love to play games.

I love going on vacations.

I want to get back into exercising.

I want to have a book or two or more published.

I want my husband to continue the climb at work because I know he can do it.

I want my boys to feel that they can accomplish anything they put their minds too.

I want so much out of life.

I want to…

Well I want a lot and I can work at some but some may remain aloof for a while.

Beautiful.

Not a word you think of when you see me but maybe my beauty is inside. In my heart. In my actions. In my love for my family. In my love for others. In my love of wanting to do for others. In my love for writing. In my love of reading. In my love…

Maybe I am hopeful. Maybe I am being wishful. Maybe I am kidding myself. Maybe there is no beauty in me – outside or inside. Maybe I am dreaming.

All I can do is continue on as me. I know me. I know what I do. One step, one day – at a time. In the end, I can only be me.

 

Admission – my words, my thoughts, my feelings – I share to make others think, make others feel, to know parts of me – not to seem as if I may be asking compliments.

Thank you,

Marisa

Photo by Sam Operchuck on Unsplash

Music

Music has a way of reaching into one’s soul and being exactly what they need when they need it.

A chance to get lost for a moment.

A way to concentrate.

The ability to get lost within your emotions.

Let the happiness flow.

Let the tears run.

A way to release emotions.

The chance of feeling.

To relax.

To de-compress.

I am not sure when I started my love affair with music but I do know that it has been there for me through the years.

I was in chorus in high school. Multiple years, it helped me get my fine arts stamp on my diploma. I loved and enjoyed every minute of it.

I knew I was not one to do anything in the lime light in regards to music, but I knew that I wanted to do something with music.

I did a few musicals in high school. Let’s see if I can remember them, I think I was in four – now lets see if I can remember which ones.

It appears it has been too long since I graduated – I am only thinking of two that I remember being in and at least one more that I am not sure if I was in or not.

The for sures: Grease and Little Shop of Horror.

I remember doing something with Oklahoma. I think.

I did try out for the part of Rizzo in Grease, I did not get it – was still shy and I did not do so great at the audition. Oh, well. It happens.

I remember doing some little in class scenes.

I wanted to go into the music field after high school. The recording industry. I went to college to try and get a degree but found out that I would have to take classes that did not pertain to what I wanted to do. Why did I need to take theory classes and chorus classes? I wanted a behind the scenes job not one that would get me in front.

Luckily I had a connection that got me a internship at a recording studio in Atlanta, I was there for 2 years. I got to meet a few celebrities in the industry – but I soon learned that my internship was not going to turn into a job within the studio.

By this time, I already had a job – non music related –  that I am still at to this day – celebrating 16 years this year.

Now a days, music allows me to concentrate while I work on my crafting projects or my writings. I put in my ear buds and allow the music to work its magic on me.

It allows me to connect with my boys, I love singing to them.

Aden loves Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Gavin loves Rock-a-bye Baby.

Music will always hold a special place in my heart as well since music was how we connected with Drake each and every night before we left him to come home to attempt sleep. It was also the last thing he heard as he took his last breathes in my arms. We would sing the same song, Lean on Me, we just did a few modifications to the song to make it more personal.

So I don’t get as much practice singing as I did back in high school but I still do it because I enjoy it.

Singing to the radio, MP3 player, movies, etc – that is the closest I get to music.

Although my career in music never took off, it did not harm my love for it. My connection to it.

Does music move you? Does music connect to you within your soul? Do you have a connection with music? Do you like to sing? Does music help you?

Thank you

Marisa

Photo by israel palacio on Unsplash

Spring

Spring.

Spring in Georgia.

Wait.

What.

No spring yet even though last Tuesday was official the first day of spring.

We even got a couple of days last week and today where the weather teased us and had some gorgeous days.

But oh no. Dig those sweaters, jackets, scarves back out of the closets. Just when we thought we would get some nice weather. Bam. Just kidding.

That is Georgia for you. You never know how the weather will be. SO you never know how to prepare for it.

Best thing to do, is to keep several outfits in the car. You will leave the house dressed one way and if your lucky you may need a different outfit when you leave work.

I’m ready for spring.

Yes, I said spring.

Not summer. To hot. Yes, yes. I know I live in the south and that is the way it is.

I prefer spring and fall since they are less hot and some years we actually get a spring and a fall instead of just winter and summer.

I like spring and fall because the weather is so nice. Goldilocks had it right:

“Not to cold, not to hot. Just right.”

I’m ready for spring because I’m lucky enough to be able to leave work early enough to go pick up Aden from school and then get Gavin.

Once spring decides to shows its face, I can pick up the boys and we can go to the park or go get ice cream. Not everyday but on occasion.

But no it is still a bit too cold to go to the park or get ice cream.

With the way it is going now, we are not going to have any nice weather for a while. Then Aden will be out of school for the year which means my work hours go back to normal where I don’t get off early. Which means no park, no ice cream; because by the time I pick them up = go home and fix dinner.

Spring.

Oh, spring. Where are you?

Come out, come out where ever you are.

But you can keep the pollen. No one and I mean no one wants to see that stuff.

Icky, icky pollen. Yellow stuff every where. Every where.

Spring is the one time of year I can get a free color change on my vehicle.

If you take blue plus yellow, what do you get…

GREEN.

Spring gives me a green car.

Definitely not my color, but I will have to drive it because washing it does not help.

So as I sit here writing this in my sweater wondering when I can finally put my winter clothes up and official pull out my spring attire, I look forward to more beautiful spring time weather as we watch all the flowers start to bloom.

Flowers so pretty except for the icky pollen. Guess we have to deal with one to get the other.

I guess I’ll have to continue to navigate this weird Georgia weather in the best way possible – one day at a time.

Thanks,

Marisa

Photo by Katherine McCormack on Unsplash

House

More like:

House hunting.

House selling.

House buying.

House building.

So complicated.

My hubby and I purchased our first home together back in 2006 right before we got married. S we’ve been in it now for over 10 years. Don’t get me wrong it was a great starter home.

But 11 years, 3 boys, 2 cats later; we are busting at the seams.

It is time to figure out when to move. Plus we got Aden into the school we wanted within our county but there is no guarantee Gavin will get in since we go Aden in to the lottery system (you apply to have your child transferred into another school within your county if you are not happy with the one you are zoned for or whatever reason and they picked on a lottery basis depending on spots they have within your desired school).

So we have about 3 years before Gavin starts school to get this all figured out. No huge rush but a little bit of one.

This is not a new topic for Joel and I, it has come up over the years and we’ve slightly discussed and then it falls back to the way side. There was even one time, we made an offer on a new build but we could not get the #s worked out with the builder so we opted out.

Well lately we figured it is time to at least have more serious conversations – got to start somewhere at some time. Right?

We don’t want to ding our credit by getting pre-approved as we know we are not at the point of selling/ purchasing within the next 30 days. But it would be nice to have an idea of what range we can afford.

So this weekend the light bulb goes off for me and I’m like… There must be a calculator online to give us that idea. (I know it would not be perfect, but an idea is all we are looking for and it is better then knowing nothing.)

That was a bust. Why you ask. I tried one calculator and it gave an amount, so I was like ok let’s try a different calculator just to see if I’m getting the same #. Nope.

In all I tried 10, yes 10 different calculators and I got a range from as low as $105 (which seems super low) to as high as $245 (hmmm). Talk about crazy. I used all the same #s for each calculator.

I told Joel and he was just as confused as I was so we decided to go about it a little different. We are going to look at $ coming in and $ going out. See if there is any where we can make some changes. See how much we could add to our current mortgage that could be our new monthly. Then my super smart hubby can figure out about what price of a house we can purchase/ build.

He’s a #s man. Loves to do math.

So we will be doing that over the next few days. Hopefully.

 

House hunting/ buying/ selling/ building, can get complicated.

Do you sell first?

Do you buy first and hope to sell quickly?

When looking at houses you find things you like, you don’t like, you can live with.

I think one of the big issues is the whether to sell first or not. You hope you can sell and but simultaneously but I’m not sure how often that actually works out.

If we sell first, we do have the option of moving in with my parents (for the time being) (cheaper than an apartment since apartments cost more that our mortgage), but would we find a new place fairly quickly. Or would we all be getting on one another’s nerves because it seems as if we have been there forever.

If we buy first, we don’t want two mortgages at the same time. Who know how long it will take to sell current place. It could be quick, it could take a while.

If we decide to build (which is a dream of mine – I also know it might not be feasible at this time, so I don’t have my hopes up), I guess we could try to sell while being built and hope it sells just prior to completion. If sells prior, there is the option of living with my parents for a short period. If it doesn’t sell, then we are stuck with 2 mortgages, which means one of us might need to get a part time job until the current place sells.

I’ve had my dream house plans picked out for years now. Joel likes them as well. Did you know it cost a small fortune to obtain those plans with the ability to make changes to them? Guess if we are able to build at any point in our lives, we will just have to see what plans local builders have.

The houses in our neighborhood do tend to sell fairly quickly but would it ours sell quickly. So many ifs, ands and buts when selling/ buying a house.

All this gives me an idea why some people stay in their current place and either make it work or build onto their current place to make the room they need.

Unfortunately, out current place just can’t work much longer for us and if we build on we will never get the $ back as the houses in the neighborhood we live in are not selling for that high.

 

So it seems as if is coming down to two things:

1. We need to win the lottery. Guess I need to start playing.
2. We need to find that $ tree that others have seemed to have found but kept secret/ hidden/ cloaked.

🙂

It will happen I know and I think we are more determined at the moment then we previously were. I can definitely see why we would go back and forth on the topic so many times; you get excited and discouraged at the same time.

So the first step is to sit down and figure out the #s especially since the online calculators were NO help at all. Once we have the #s we are comfortable with (we don’t want to be house poor) we can start looking, getting info on if building is an option for us.

Wish us luck.

Thank you,

Marisa

PS – Did I mention that Aden keeps telling us that he wants a pool at our next house. :0

Photo by James Cousins on Unsplash

Sleep

Sleep. What a beautiful word. I have not connected with this wonderful word in so long.

Sleep. I gave you up so many years ago. Do you think you could come for a visit? I know a long stay is out of the questions.

Sleep. They say you will come back full time once the kids are out of the house. Shall I kick them out for a short period of time for your visit. JK

Sleep. You elude me you beautiful connection to the soft bed that awaits me each and every night.

Sleep. I knew I had to give you up when I had kids. But you are like a drug that so many of us want in our lives, we can’t give up. We don’t want to give up.

Sleep. Some nights you are so wonderful to me and allow me a slight reprieve.

Sleep. I love the nights that you allow us all to sleep uninterrupted.

Sleep. I am so grateful that you had done wonders with our boys and allowed them to sleep from very early on through the night.

Sleep. I know there are times we must be awoke by one child or another, mainly right now it is the little one – between the double ear infection and the growth spurt. He is allowing for some sleepless mornings.

Sleep. I so look forward to when the little one feels better and sleeps through the night. For all our sakes. We are not use to this having to get up in the middle of the night stuff. 🙂

Sleep. I look forward to us partnering up in the near future. Whenever you like. I am there.

Thank you,

Marisa

Photo by Jason Blackeye on Unsplash

Letter

Dear Drake,

As the tears sit in the corner of my eyes, I try desperately to get out all I want to say before they spill over and stain my heart. The other day I told someone new in my life your story, your short life. it made me realize something. Something that I’ve always known or at least has been in the back of my mind recently.

Eight years.

You would’ve turned 8 this year.

Eight years old.

I think part of me is in shock. Shock that I would of had an 8 year old if you had lived. Shock that I have lived 8 years without you. Shock that I have no new memories to share. Shock that my arms have been empty for this long. Shock that the pain has changed over the years.

There are so many times my heart feels heavy, literally hurts over the sorrow of you.

There are so many times my heart is in pain, literally in pain over the loss of you.

The other day a Facebook memory popped up. A memory about you. A memory from when I was pregnant. The memory of when we found out you were a boy, our son. Even reading that memory now, I could hear our joy and love as we anxiously awaited your arrival.

Thinking about me telling someone new your story the other day made me realize I have no idea the last time I got a chance to talk about you. It’s not that I don’t want to talk about you, it is just everyone in my life already knows about you. Most of them already know every story, every memory I have because I don’t have many. Just 12 days.

As I write this and the tears continue to threaten to fall, to continue there path of sorrow all the way to my heart, I dread thinking about the fact that it has been 8 years. Eight years since we got pregnant. Eight years since we found out you were a boy. Eight years since I enjoyed every moment of being pregnant with you.

8 years.

Eight years.

It is hard to believe that I’m coming up on 8 years without you in my life. Without you smiling. Without you laughing. Without you learning. Without those big blue eyes. Without you loving me the way I love you. Without you growing up. Without you being a typical boy. Without you getting irritated with me. Without me getting irritated with you. Without you growing into your own self.

My heart holds 3 boys. 3 precious boys. My 3 precious boys.

The world sees 2. Only 2.

I want everyone to see you. I want everyone to know you. I want everyone to miss you.

Eight years.

I know I can not stop time, as much as I would like.

I know life will continue. My grief will continue. My sorrow will continue.

I know eight years will turn into ten years which will turn into fifteen years which will turn into twenty years. There is no stopping it.

I know you will always be in my heart and on my mind. I can not guarantee there will be others who think about you, remember you. But I can guarantee you will always be my son, I will always love you, I will always miss you.

The tears have finally fallen. I will try to write through there blur.

I wish there were other opportunities I could share you with others and I do what I can but baby your mommy is not one of those popular kids. I’ve been known to be a bit of a loner. It is part of who I am. But I am willing to share you and your story with whomever will listen, whomever will ask. Because all I have are your stories, your memories. Those are my treasures.

There are days I wish I could turn back time and even if I could not save you, which I would desperately try. At least have more time to spend with you, hold you, touch you, cover you in love.

Baby the day you died in my arms, a little piece of me died as well and I accept that because you were my baby, my son, my Drake – it is the price I paid for loving you and continuing to love you but there are so many regrets that live in my soul that rear their ugly heads on occasion. So many things I wish I could of changed.

The worst regret … knowing this did not have to happen to you … knowing your death could have been prevented … knowing you did not have to suffer but you did. I’ll never know how much or how bad.

As I wipe one tear away, 5 more fall in its place. In a bit, I know they will subside until another day arrives that had my heart all tore up.

I will love you forever.

I will miss you forever.

I will grieve for you forever.

I will think about you forever.

As we get closer and closer to you 8th birthday, I know I will feel the pain. So as each year continues on, each year as my arms remain empty … I  will hold you in my heart. Now. Forever. Always.

 

Sweet baby boy, as my tears continue, I am left with just one thing …

I loved you eight years ago,

I loved you yesterday,

I love you today,

I love you forever. Always.

Love, Your Mommy

Photo by Daniel McCullough on Unsplash

Valentine’s

Warning: This blog may contain some humbuggish moments/ thoughts/ feelings.

Do you have love in your life?

I sure hope so.

I know my hubby loves me.

I know my boys love me.

Maybe I’m getting more harsh in my old age, or maybe I am just having a humbuggish kind of day. We all have them and we have no control of when they may occur. But the more I think about the holiday today, the more stressful it gets.

You see this year I am thinking about the commercialization of it all. Prices of flowers, candy, cards, don’t even get me started on jewelry.

Maybe it is the fact that I feel bad that I just did not get the chance to run by the store to get anything for my boys. The hubby I had taken care of thanks to Amazon, the boys I could of picked up at the store. But you see more often then not I have them with me, which makes things difficult when trying to do the secret shopping for them. Easy for little man this year, will start getting harder over the years. Super hard for the older one who notices EVERYTHING.

There are so many commercials that stamp it in your brain, get this or that for your loved ones.

I know it should not matter that I did not get them anything because I show them that I love them each and every day. I still feel horrible about not getting them anything. Maybe it is that I want to do something nice for them. Maybe I don’t want them to think I don’t love them because I did not get them anything because they are young and don’t always see what I do do for them.

I love Valentines day because it is one day a year that I feel loved. It would be nice to know I was loved and appreciated through out the year. But life. Enough said right. Life.

I feel that love and appreciation should be shown other days of the year as well.

It feel  as if Valentine’s puts pressure on people.

“Am I doing enough?”

“Do I need to do more?”

“Will they like what I got?”

“Will they be angry if this is not what they expected?”

 

Maybe I am just having a bad day and it is manifesting on to Valentines Day.

I truly hope that you have someone in your life that you love because in the end that is what it is about.

Sorry if I ruined your day, it was never my intention. Just me and my humbuggish thoughts/ feelings.

Thank you

Marisa

Photo by Steve Halama on Unsplash

Momming

Recently I had a minor mom fail. As in last week.

Aden is in Kindergarten and every Tuesday he gets homework that is due the following Monday. Well on Sunday’s I check his folder to make sure everything is in it that needs to be.

I know that he did his homework last week, I remember him asking me questions while I made dinner. I remember timing him on his sight words. I remember helping him figure out some sentences.

After he finishes it, I always put it back into his homework folder. Well, last week must have been crazy because I could not find his homework anywhere on Sunday. It was not in the folder. It was not anywhere that the hubby and I could see or find.

So I did what any parent would do, I wrote a note to his teacher totally apologizing for losing his homework. I offered for him to do it over again.

She is not requiring him to do it over again. But I made sure that when he finished his homework yesterday (Tuesday) that I put it straight into his folder. I even showed the hubby so we knew I did it and I was not going crazy.

I truly have no idea what happened to it, we wonder if it got mixed in with some papers we went through and threw away. We will NEVER know.

I do know that if this is the only thing I do in his schooling, I will be ok but no guarantees. I am sure I will fail much worse over the years. I have plenty of years to screw him up. Just kidding. I know whatever momming mistakes I make will be minor. But this was a learning lesson for me. Pay Attention.

Like I said I was cooking dinner so I guess I was just a little distracted when he handed it to me.

Marisa you can do better. Step up your momming game.

Thank you,

Marisa

Photo by Rick Mason on Unsplash

(Aden loves loves LEGOs, so felt it was appropriate for this post.)