summer days

Summer is going by fast and I am keeping the kids and myself way to busy this year, but in a way that is new to all of us.  We are doing things that are fun!  The kids are taking classes, the farm is keeping me on my toes, the sun is kissing our faces and we are enjoying life to the fullest.  It is a positive change that is rewarding me with smiles, and "thanks mom"'s and building up good memories in their little heads.

4 days a week we rotate between golf and tennis followed by swimming classes, once a week while they are in class I head over to by secret diner for some grown up talk and gossip.  We see the libraries summer performances, the evening concerts in teh park, we go swimming in teh afternoon, and watch movies when it rains ( which we really need by the way).  The kids have there lemonade stand the weekends they come with me to market, and get to do a little farmers market shopping, Some have gone to camp and some have yet to go, we are readying for fair, and fattening the pigs while training up this years show cow some more.

Thinking ahead to fair week and football practices and what adventures we can get in before school starts again in the fall.

baby steps

I have just discovered that I do not know how to flirt, when men are hitting on me, or have any self-confidence at all.  For the many years that  "that man" and I were married, I was not allowed to look at other men, I was not allowed to touch them, to shake their hand, to look them in the eye.  A few months ago when my farm helper started, I didn't even know what he really looked like for the first 3 days, if anyone had asked me describe him, i would have said he was big, and wore black work boots.  That was all I could tell you.
My mom keeps telling me I need to get out and meet people, because the other thing I wasn't allowed to do was have friends.  Before "that man" left I knew 3 people socially here, that's it 3 that would recognize me walking down the street, 3 that would stop to say hi, and those 3?  Those were his best friends who would come and get high with him, the ones he would go sit in the pub with and get drunk, the ones he would spend our only free day (no school no markets) with instead of us his family.

My mom is insisting I get out and do things, that I go to breakfast, sign up for classes, go back to school, go meet people anyone, men - women - old people -collage students - she doesn't care, just people.  That I go and make friends and acquaintances, even that I think about maybe looking for someone to date.  That would be great and fine and dandy for most people, but here's the thing, I am incredibly shy, before now I had never been out with the girls, I am not a joiner, I don't belong to clubs, and I don't go to work, I work at home, and I am a stay at home mom.  Add on to that the years of abuse that have sucked any self confidence I did have out of me and down the drain to the point where I was afraid to get dressed with out his approval, would be berated for cooking a new dish for dinner, and that I constantly wasn't good enough, I was overweight, sloppy, lazy, etc.etc.etc.  and you can get an idea of where I am starting from.
Complete beginning, not even 1st day of kindergarden beginning, but 1st day of pre-school beginning 

I have found a little dinner that I have been going to once a week, the first time I walked in I was so nervous - it't the kind of place that has regulars, where when the ladies see your car pull up they pour a cup of coffee, or tea, or whatever your normal drink is for you and have it ready when you walk in the door.  I love my little dinner, i have taken the kids there, they seem to like it to, but I am so afraid they will tell "that man" where it is, and then it won't be a safe haven for me anymore.  I have considered asking some of my new friends to meet me their, but afraid they won't understand why I like it so much, not that their opinion should even matter.

So flash forward to this weekend, my baby girl now has a bed at that man's house and I have no excuse to keep her home with me.  She had her first sleepover night on memorial day weekend, and did fine.  So now it was time for me to step up, and step out.  I planned all week to go to the local dive bar, figuring that was as good as any place to start, it's small it's dark, maybe I could blend in.  I was excited and confident, or so I thought.  And then I dropped the kids off, and that man asked the kids a question that pulled the wind from my sails.

"Is your mom pregnant?"  What???  How in the world?  What is he thinking?  Why on earth would he say that to them?  And no I am not pregnant, their is no way I could be pregnant, it is simply absurd.  But that was enough to rattle me to losing my cool.  I went home, thinking I must be looking fat, must be wearing clothes that fit wrong, must be...  i curled up on the couch with a blanket and moped.  And my mom called.  Now anyone that knows my mom knows that she can hold a grudge, that she will repeat things over and over till you can repeat them back in your sleep, and who does not understand quite how much his actions affected me.  She gave me a verbal kick in the butt, told me to get up and finish my work (I had market in the morning), get out of the sweats and off the couch and put my dress back on and go out.  It didn't matter if I went to the mall and walked around, if I went to a coffee shoppe, or the bar, but to go somewhere and talk to someone, even if it was just to order a slice of cheesecake.

I put my dress back on, re-applied my makeup ( i had cried it all down my face) chose my shoes with care, took some cash and left.  I felt like I was going to hurl driving down the road.  I told myself I would just look at the parking lot and if it wasn't full enough ( so I would be unnoticed) I would go back home.  It was packed.  I pulled into a spot and sat, trying to get up the nerve to go in.  I fiddled with my phone deciding to leave it, I fiddled with my wallet and decided to bring it ( who knew?  they might card everyone) trying to decide if I was going to order a shot,. a beer, or a soda,  I finally got out of the car.  I adjusted my dress and my sweatshirt (a new addition to the outfit after my visit to that mans house - I no longer had the confidence for a sleeveless tank dress)  I held my head high, sucked in my stomach, walked across the lot and in the front door, someone said hi, I smiled and looked away, I went up to the bar, it was full of people standing around drinking, I waited for the barmaids attention the girls next to me said something, glared and giggled and walked away.  I ordered a diet coke.  I thought I was going to die standing there, as she slowly took a can of soda out of the fridge, turned around again for a red party cup, scooped the ice into the cup cube-by-cube, took her time opening the can and pouring it in ful to the very tippy top brim, she couldn't have fit a shot in their if I had wanted one, looked lazily around for a straw and then handed it over.  I am sure no one noticed me, but all I really wanted to do was pay her for the drink, leave it on the bar and turn around and leave.

But I didn't, I picked it up and carefully trying so much not to spill and look like an ass, walked into the other room, the darker room, where their were tables and chairs, and a dance floor, and a stage.  Luckily for me, this room was almost empty, I went to the back corner and sat down.  I sipped my soda, it was cold, much to cold, the jukebox was playing a few people milled in the other corner some people walked in and out.  I could hear people talking and laughing outside.  I looked at my watch and told myself I needed to stay at least a half an hour.  I tried to look approachable in my dark corner in the back of the room , like the internet articles and the youtube videos had said to (pathetic right?  I had to look up how to flirt).  The band started they were pretty good, I decided that I couldn't leave after they played just one song that I had to stay for at least 5 to be polite (I have no idea where I came up with this, I really don't).  Some girls came in and started dancing, a couple of guys joined in to, and I was ready to go.  My soda had been long empty and I couldn't bring myself to go up to the bar again, but now to leave I had to walk past oh so many more people, and i hadn't seen a single person I recognized from anywhere (this is the only bar in the town where my kids go to school, where the library is located, my new friends live, and where my secret dinner is.  I thought I would at least recognize someone).  I couldn't sit there and pretend to sit my long empty drink, so I got up the nerve decided to once again hold my head high, put my cup in the trash and walk past all those people, through the door, past all the guys standing around outside and back to my car.  And I was doing good, until I heard my name.  I stopped I was outside where all the guys were and turned around, were they talking to me?  and then my new friends brother was before me.  He was talking, and I couldn't remember his name.  He asked if I was alone? had I been their long?  was I leaving?  Ummm, yeah.  I said something about not wanting to watch tv, and going to the car, and left.  I was so rattled that when i pulled out of the parking lot, I almost hit a car coming down the street, and they honked loudly, I pretended not to notice and sped away, my stomach all in knots.

Well, that didn't go well, not very well at all.  But it was a start.  Maybe next time I should actually get that shot.

This new life of mine

is differeent.  strange; busy, jam-packed with activities, and nice.  I mean really nice, it seems odd that being a single parent, and running a business on my own is so much easier than how my life was before.  Things happen in my house now that never would have happened before.

For instance, That Man took the bed, our marrital bed that we had bought on credit when we were engaged.  It was a queen sized bed, the biggest bed I (or anyone in my family for that matter) had ever had.  But somhow it was never big enough.  I was told to stay on my side of the imaginary line drawn down teh middle, was scolded when I crossed over (even though he could cross when ever he wanted) and if any child for any reason came to our bed, be it a breast feeding babe or a little sickie  needing comfort, they had to fit on my side with me.  We couldn't cross over.  Their were nights when I had a breastfeeding babe and a little sickie crammed on to my side with me.  Then their were the sheets and the comforters.  He always choose them, or got the final say in how they looked. In over 10 years all of our bed sets were some shade of red sometimes with gold accents.  Once he was finally out, and he asked for it, I just let him take it, I didn't want to fight over it.

I then slept on an ai-rmattress for almost a month.  a crappy full sized air-mattress on the floor of my room, that had a leak in it.  I exchanged it for a new one that also got a leak in it.  The dogs piled on it, the kids jumped on it, it slid around the room, it was cold, and I was worried about putting the baby on it, and worst of all, I would wake up in the middle of the night with my butt touching the ground and have to pump it back up again just to have my but touch the ground again by morning.  After a month of this, it was clear I was going to need a bed sooner rather than later.

I went out to one of the storage sheds where the bed-frame to my parents marital bed was stored.  I gathered up the pieces with the help of my eldest son (a strong 9 year old farm boy) and we brought them inside.  6 pieces; 4 antique cast iron pieces make up the head and foot boards and the side rails and 2 sheets of plywood lay down to support the mattress.  The plywood has a love note written to my mom on it by my dad, apparently he bought it as a gift to her.  I looked it over and got to work (after calling my mom for her okay.  I removed and polished the brass tubes and knobs, I wire brushed the cast iron frame pieces, I took them down cellar and primed and painted them with a new coat of hammered black spray paint.  I put on coat after coat - i think I used over 5 bottles of paint, then I dragged them upstairs and sat them up in my room.  I didn't put it where the marital bed used to sit large and over whelming his side next to the door and mine in the coldest corner, but rather I sat it up with the head near a window to look out and the foot to the door to see the hallway and the childrens rooms.  I ordered a mattress off of walmart.com, my mom and her assistant bought me a big heavy beige  Mexican plush blanket, and  brown fleece sheets and I went shopping.

I looked all over online for what I could afford and what I wanted, then I went to the mall and searched through ending up at Target.  A set of spring sheets, a bed skirt, a set of euro shams, 4 pillows and a duvet cover and a lightweight comforter was what I got.  The colors neutral yet inviting, off white, and a muted tealy blue green.  I sat up the bed.  And we all  fell in love with it..

 It is dubbed the cozy bed, even now with the down comforter and duvet removed.  Nightly I either have to return kids to their beds to get into mine, or wake up surrounded by them.  Some days when I pick my 4 year old pumpkin pie up from school the first thing she does is be-line for my bed to sit in it, all cozied up with blankets and the computer.  Even the 1 year old baby tucks herself in, it is the cutest thing, she crawls over in between the pillows and pulls the blankets up and smiles.

I am so happy for the small joys in my life that I am getting to experience.  Things like my cozy bed.  Where I can cross the imaginary invisible fine, where nursing babes and sickies can all come for cuddles and somewhere I want to be.