Alrighty then.... I think that it's quite possible that I have settled into what my life is actually going to be. I am sometimes horrified and sometimes elated at the honor of being a stay at mom. It's such a trip to be responsible for raising people. From the moment that I named them it felt like I was a bit out of my league. So mostly my existence revolves around attempting to make honorable decisions for them. To be perfectly honest, that is much more difficult than it might sound.I married my husband when I was 19. We celebrated our 16 year anniversary last October. And what a long strange trip that has been. Dale and I used to have contests with our friends to see who could ingest the most psychadellic drugs w/o ending up a vegetable. I truly think that this has had a seriously long term affect on my life. My seven year old often says thing like "I don't know mom, things seem really weird sometimes, do you think that I am really real?"! Also her favorite movie is The Yellow Submarine. Don't be quick to judge, it was years after I had obtained all that I thought I could from doing drugs when I found out (to my utter amazement) that I was going to have her.Dale and I have lived in lots of places during our 17 years together, but somehow we ended up back in Modesto CA, the place that I grew up. It seems surreal at times, aren't most of us trying to escape? It gets even more strange when I confess that my two younger sisters live on the same court that I do, in the exact same floorplan as my own home. Most of our neighbors think that we need to rename our street, as it seems we are taking over.I don't know, but one of my biggest humiliations came this past fall at the grocery store parking lot when I opened my minivan (yes) and there was no room to put groceries because of the abundance of soccer gear. I will fight this whole soccer mom thing to my death. Does it count that I sneak off during practice and games to inhale a smoke from tip to butt in a single drag!? How about the cleverly disguised beer? I guess that I usually except my fate or my choice or whatever...until those late night binges and I pick up the phone to torture someone (you know who you are) with the pms drunken wanderings of "is this all there is?". Then I wake up hung over, and am stared down by the reality of Yes this Is all there is, and once the hangover is gone, and the pms remedies itself, somehow it doesn't seem so hopeless as I do more housework and answere more 7 year old existential ponderings.All in all, I haven't been handed a really bad deal. My children are beautiful, my husband loves me, I don't worry about a roof over my head, I'm generally satisfied, just a little shell shocked, and I have wonderful family both near (really near) and far (really far).
Damnit, I had to add to this 'cuz unfortunately smoking is bad (really bad) for me. It's been 15 days, 17 hrs, 10 mins and 43 secs. since I've had the pleasure, but whose counting? I was, but I'm back at it, couldn't bear the loss of such a good friend...smoking that is.
