Cleaning out the cobwebs in my head

Still fighting it

Mon, 20 May 2013 23:46:14 GMT

Song blog, life blog. My head is a bit messy, well. I'm certain that much is clear.

I can talk myself into being happy, I can even talk other people into being happy sometmes. But somehow I can't quite talk myself into believing that these good things are indeed for me. I can't quite talk myself into being enough.

These feelings are, a mirage. I know this. I'd love to think I can take a constructive critique well. But I can't. I'm a people pleaser and it makes me crumble and crumple.

I'm impulsive, sometimes flaky. I've surely disapointed people. I surely will continue to do so.

And that's ok. I'm human. I'm fallable. However, if somebody was to tell me these things, versus me saying it... well I pretty much think they hate me and I'm somehow less than deserving of my life. I hear one bad thing and forget that there is good. That people see good.

I don't know why I can't separate the two. I want to be perfect. I really do. And that doesn't exist.
So I go nuts after a huge fight, and delete. As soon as I say "well, I deleted it and won't spend more time there.. "
he says "well that was silly, can't you reactivate"

I'm not so good with happy mediums. And in coming back, I'm a workin' on it. I'm probably going to be here less. And that's gotta be ok. So those of you still on my list, thanks for staying. I realize if that many couldn't delete just yet, there may be more good than I think right now, in me.
And I am going to realize I deserve every bit of good in my life. Because, I've worked for it. So I'm done discussing this, done with the drama of that moment. And now I want to just have fun and feel like I should.

Now heart and brain. Read the words I've typed and believe it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqPwR39VMh0

Music Blog: Have a little faith in Me

Fri, 17 May 2013 16:05:53 GMT

Nobody ever tells you how hard it is to truly have faith, nobody ever tells you that to really be comfortable in that faith you are going to have to question it. You might even have to question it a million times. I know I did. How can I have faith in the intentions of others when I had so little faith in what I was going to become. How could I have faith in a future when I had so many questions.
I've been most looking forward to writing this particular music blog, about this particular song. I won't say that there isn't a song that means more because that really depends on where my head is on any given day.

Have a little faith in me-John Hiatt.

When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me

And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try
And have a little faith in me

When he sent me a youtube link to this song, three and a half years ago... I'd had no idea. I'd had no idea he'd end up being one of the three great loves of my life(the other two currently being under four feet, just for purpose of clarification). I had no idea a song that he said made him think of me, and how he felt about me... would end up having such a place in my heart and brain.

The song itself ended up meaning a lot of things to me. It first of all meant his promises to me. His promises of a life where I could breathe, a life where I could smile. And all I had to do was put in the work, have the faith, and be patient.
And I did. I was patient. I stood there and smiled, telling everybody he'd be here when nobody thought he would. I had faith. Those three years we spent most of apart people spent telling me, it was never going to happen. But I trusted, I held to that faith.
And now I'm so elated that particular time in my life is over. While I grew, while it brings me sweet memories of overcoming everything to stand on a mountain in truimph.. While there is much positive to take from that experinece it was exhausting and a test I'm glad I passed but it sucked to study for. I'm now living the life I've been promised for so many years. I have that joy in my life, but it wasn't just given. I'm an active participant in my personal bliss.

As long as I'll be on Myfitnesspal, I'll be telling this story. Just as much as my phyical success story.
Maybe more. Funny. Going to the gym and eating right. That came much easier than having faith.

This song is one of the main songs I want to be our first dance when we marry. I can't think of one with more meaning.

Signs

Fri, 17 May 2013 01:39:06 GMT

Some days we need to wear them.

"hey, I'm feeling like an ass today....beware"

"hey, I'm super needy today and I hate feeling this way please hug me"

"Hey, I'm HORNY! Give me ALL the lovin'"

Wouldn't that make life easier? Wouldn't it be lovely to know exactly what everybody needed so you could give them just that. Sometimes peoplehate asking for what they need. Sometimes people want to give and feel wrong in asking for things...

A long and kind of exhausting week and I come on here sick and really feeling out of touch with the my MFP world missing my MFP friends, and realizing that I'm not the only one who had a bummer week. And I hate not being on here to try to cheer up bummer days more often. I like to be a little cheerleader.

So here are all of your signs for the evening.

"Hey, I'm AWESOME because Gonzo says so. And if you don't believe me, she'll beat you up... she works out.. ya know"

One last thought......whomever said cold medicine and a glass of wine was good.... well thank you.

Music Blog #3 Ordinary World

Fri, 10 May 2013 13:38:44 GMT

This is my last blog or music blog for a while. A little break from introspection is needed.

20 years ago, my dad walked into the house, and told me my grandmother had passed. I had been listening to the radio and Ordinary world just happened to be the song on the radio. Had I blasted the song as loud as possible it still wouldn't have drown out the sound of my fathers crying. Probably one of the worst sounds I've heard in my life, and I can still hear it.

Came in from a rainy Thursday
On the avenue
Thought I heard you talking softly

I turned on the lights, the TV
And the radio
Still I can't escape the ghost of you

What has happened to it all?
Crazy, some are saying
Where is the life that I recognize?
Gone away

But I won't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive

The world has missed Betty Lou Jenkins for 20 years now. Lifelong nurse, loving mother, fantastic grandmother, and an my hugest influence and inspiration. The hugest hole in my life. Of all the things I've done in my life, the best I've ever done is call to 911. That bought her 5 more years. But it wasn't near long enough She was only 50, she should still be here. My family it seems has not quite mastered longevity.

I dream of her about once a month. I always have this hope perhaps my dreams of her are her way of saying hello. I always hope that my dreams of her are her telling me I'm doing well, I'm making her proud and that she loves my Cyane and Ethan as much as she loved me.

Summers were all about her. My dad and her would meet halfway and make the trade. As we got closer to her house there was a fruit stand, and seafood stand. We'd always stopped at both. Bing cherries and shrimp. And I can STILL smell the orange spice tea she always got from the Pike Place Market. She loved tea, not coffee.
I most certainly got my whimsy from her. Her favorite gift to me was a pair of hot pink cowboy boots, and her favorite CD ever was an entire CD with songs about the teddy bears she collected. And I mean she had them everywhere.

I got her love for writing, she was published in many small nursing publications.

I'd like to think I got her fight, though my personal battles have been on such a smaller scale it hardly deserves comparison... she never gave up even when it was hard or painful. I'd like to think I'll always be that way.

She was friends with everybody, and I mean everybody. She always had the most interesting friends. One of whom I remember was a bookshop owner with a beautiful daughter and cat. Sometimes I have this fantasy I'll find them and write to them. Find out more stories about my grandmother. How she came to be best friends with a bookshop owner, find out bout their adventures. Because of course I'm certain it's a very different life you show a friend and very young granddaughter.

The nursing home she worked at as a Director of Nursing, I'd go with her to work everyday and visit with the residents. And they all loved her. Her smile, was pure gold. Her eyes had a twinkle. Now sometimes that sounds cheesy. But they did.

I could go on and on about her, how magnificent she was, and all she taught me. But something tells me this is enough. She never liked a big show being made.

The last few years of her life, I know made her sad. She'd always been a woman with a lot of dignity and pride. Being so ill took some of that from her, even the last week of her life she did not want my brother or I to see her.

I truly hope wherever she is watching me from, that she has that back. I hope she's proud. I hope that I can instill the same things in my children. I hope she knows how loved and how missed she is. I hope she realizes how much her entire family wishes she was here for this Mothers Day.

Music Blog #3 Fast Car

Wed, 08 May 2013 13:41:20 GMT

In the Northwest sometimes REALLY gorgeous days can be rare. It's actually quite funny, I remember growing up and if it was one of those remarkably nice days everybody took the day off and enjoyed all that the place I still call home has to offer.

At this point we lived in Spokane, Washington. Though it kind of seems like we lived in Springfield. It's easy to get mixed up. I lost count of places that we lived at a pretty young age. We moved so much that it wasn't until I reached adulthood that I realized some people grew up in the SAME HOUSES their entire childhood? WHAT? Craziness.

Back to the song. It was one of those days, pristine. We'd decieded to take the day and drive to the water park. It was a great, fun day. Rarely at that time did my parents have the the same days off. In fact rarely in my childhood did they have the same day off.

What I do remember was driving home that evening and the song "Fast Car" came on the radio.

My mother looked at my father, put her hand on his leg and said "this is us, isn't it chuck?".

And it was. At this time my mother was a cashier at Safeway. My father in the Air Force and working at Burger King. We had a two bedroom apartment. They couldn't afford a sitter so I recall spending MANY an hour in the breakroom of Burger King with a milkshake to share with my brother. You add all of my alcoholic grandparents in the mix and it completed the picture that Tracy Chapman had painted so sadly beautiful in that song.

My parents had met and fallen in love at 12 and 13. Both coming from broken homes, with atleast one parent who was never really there due to ........well other priorities. They married as soon as it was legal(my mother was still in school) and a year later here comes Gonzo!

Needless to say at that age with a child( and soon two) they had a lot of figuring out to do.

Having my two children 10 years later in life and still sometimes feeling like I don't have ANY answers to anything, I wonder how they did it. I'm sure at the time for them it wasn't as romantic as I am painting it in my head or in this blog. In my head it was them against the world and they knew with their love, they'd find their way.

In reality I'm sure they were scared and just wanted to make a life for us.

You got a fast car
And we go cruising to entertain ourselves
You still ain't got a job
And I work in a market as a checkout girl
I know things will get better
You'll find work and I'll get promoted
We'll move out of the shelter
Buy a big house and live in the suburbs

Anyhow... back to the story.

We got home. And my Uncle Jeff was standing on our doorstep. My father went out and spoke with him, and there were tears.

This started the horrible Pedersen tradition of tragedy after what seems a fantastic day( what other family really has a member die on a cruise ship)? My other uncle, John had been found dead in his apartment. He was 30.

A diabetic who never really took all that great of care of himself, he was still my favorite. An apartment maintenance man, he would take me and my brother on jobs with him. And he always had jelly bellys for us. Oh, he also LOVED Garfield. I mean what else does a girl remember? He had candy and liked cartoons. Pretty much the perfect adult.

Two weeks before he had passed we went to lunch.

He had a french dip, I had a ham steak. And he asked me "angie, what would you do if Uncle John was gone" of course being 7 I had no answer other than that I would be really sad. It's incredibly weird to really swallow the fact he went so young. What could he or would he have done with more time?

So..all these years later Fast Car reminds me of that day. It reminds me of that moment looking at my parents and realizing now they were just figuring out their place in this world. It reminds me of a bittersweet day when things seemed so good, and the rug was taken out from underneth us.

It reminds me of somebody who was taken from me all too early. Somebody who, in my self destructive days I was probably a lot like.

My fiance and many of my friends love this song. And honestly, no other memories could ever be associted with this song. This song is not for them. This song is for my parents, this song is for my uncle.

That's where the memories will always be. That's why it's one of my favorite songs.

Music Blog #2: Times like these **and the epilogue to "freedom"

Tue, 07 May 2013 17:30:45 GMT

This is one I debated writing. But I decided that I needed to. It's also kind of an epilogue to the "Freedom" blog from a couple of days ago.

My ex and I. Well we hated each others music. He was HUGE into Jam Bands. We never watched much TV so all we did was listen to his music. The funniest part, I can't think of much MY music at all from that period of my life. Now, that's not bad or good it's just what it is. Probably more telling than I would have ever admitted at that point in my life.

Our wedding was done on the cheap. We didn't want to pay for a DJ, so we'd stored all of the music for the wedding on his computer and had somebody was going to play it. Hey, as far as we were concerned it worked. Our first dance, I think was supposed to be "Unchained Melody" and you know I'm really really glad it wasn't. I'd hate for that song to be "tainted" in such a way. Somehow it ended up being the Foo Fighters song "times like these". Not saying it's a bad song, but really it's neither of our taste. I'm not sure how it ended up on there. But it did. The song itself now doesn't make me think of the first dance. It makes me think of a few things. Firstly, the fact that wedding was the last time my entire family was together. The last three remaining of my grandparents died within a year of the event. And secondly it makes me think of how far along we have come as co-parents.

It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again

Now the drive back from Texas was as scary and foreboding as the ride there was light and free. In fact my mother had driven me back and flown home. She didn't want me driving back, she'd known I really wasn't in the condition to. The next six months we continued to share a house, while waiting for our mediation. What to say about that time? It's hard to explain. I was scared, he was scared. No matter how ill suited we were for each other we both loved our children very much. I think given the circumstances, given the fact we were both preparing for the battle of our lives that we conducted ourselves as well as we could.

It was ridiculous at times Neither of us thought it was fair that one of us should have to use the guest room. So every single week, we'd pack up our belongings and switch bedrooms from the masters to the guests.

As soon as the kids went to bed at night, we'd retire to whatever room we had that week.

Then came mediation. And in the end we decided on a split custody. And we'd both known beforehand that custody was the only thing, literally the only thing that would be contentious.

I get them one week, he gets them the next. EVERYBODY told me I was an effing fool. "he's going to make you miserable the rest of your life now" "how are you going to let him leave you trapped" you get the idea.

The thing is. It's not always perfect. We still have stupid petty moments. There are moments I wish I'd done it differently and fought to have them all the time. And I'm sure he has the same moments.

My daughter still asks me "mommy do you love daddy?" she's asked me since we parted, at which time she had even less of an idea what that question meant.

I've always responded "yes, as a friend I do" now when I first said that, it wasn't in the slightest bit true. But that wasn't something I wanted to tell her so young. Now, a few years later it's closer to truth.

The epilogue is that I'm an incredibly blessed woman. I see my ex frequently, and that's ok. I miss my children terribly when he is over there. But really, should he be the only one who misses them? I'm a big advocate for equal custody, if it's workable. Maybe we won't have my ex's family and my family all together for Thanksgiving dinner, but my children know they are very loved by many people.

So perhaps the song was appropriate. It means a lot to me now. It means learning to find a new way to exist after love. It means finding a way to make it work.

Music Blog #1: Safetey dance

Fri, 03 May 2013 13:29:43 GMT

I've decided to start a new series of blogs. Firstly, because I love writing and I need to practice. I want my words to make people laugh, smile, cry. All that good stuff. Secondly, because I have stories to tell things to say. And well quite frankly the inability to fart around at work anymore has me really wanting something to do here, other than work. So it's probably self indulgent and for that I apologize. I'm not trying to attention whore. I'm BORED!!!!

So I'm going to start blogging about songs I love. Why I love them, the memories associated with them. Why they mean so darned much to me. Why music has had me bopping around for so many years with a big old smile.

Once I decided to do this the question was WHAT SONG to start with. I have about... say 1000 "favorite songs ever" and about as many songs with memories so poignant to me. I started 4 different blogs on 4 different songs yesterday. None of them seemed right. Too sad, too happy. Who uses the BEST song on the first blog, surely not me.

And I ended up with this: The Safety Dance.

I'm pretty certain there are about 100 people in my life who hear that song and think of me. That's how much I love it. Most of my stories with this song aren't all that interesting. A LOT of embarrased people sitting in the passenger side of my vehicle, covering their face as I sing and dance with the glee of a 12 year old at a Beiber concert. Every. Single. Time.

I did once call a radio station after MANY MANY beers at the pool on a beautiful Sunday and request the song. I guess it was Easter Sunday? I recall us all shouting very loud "Happpyyy beerster" ah, dumb youth. But they played my song and the whole summer was great.

I chose the absolute least thought provoking song to start with. And you know what, that's part of the reason I love the song so very much. It doesn't require a whole lot of effort, atleast for me. For me it doesn't require much effort to just drop everything and be silly. The world is SO very serious. I don't like serious. I don't like mean. I don't like to always be so wrapped up in thought that my face goes into a frowney face. What fun is that?
That's why the Safety Dance is great. When I pass someday, it's the song I want played at my funeral. It's how I want to be remembered. Really silly, really ridiculous, really fun.

Besides, I like to act like an imbecile.

freedom

Wed, 01 May 2013 20:36:19 GMT

You know those times in your life you wish you could get in your car, and not look back. Just drive. Anywhere.

Well this is a brief story about one of those moments, I've been thinking about it a lot as of late. It's an anniversary of that drive.

There's no real way to talk about what led up to that drive, basically being no more than roomies with somebody who you thought you had a life with. I guess at some point you realize what "that life" really is. Should have known better, could have known better, but had I known better my life would be missing it's two little greatest joys. A love dead and buried, to the point that resentment was even hard to muster. A year of the garage door opening at 5pm quite literally being the worst sound I'd come to know. A realization that living a lie, even for children was still indeed living a lie. And there was a truth out there for me.

So we decided that I'd drive to my parents house in Texas, and stay there for a few weeks. While I figured out what I wanted, while he figured out what we wanted.

I didn't think I'd change my mind, nor did he. At the time of this drive, we'd both found solace elsewhere to an extent. I think we both knew the outcome at that time( as we'd both had lawyers when I returned lol).

So I packed the kids up, and we all said goodbyes. I watched the house(that I call the place love died but to be honest there are all too many places) get smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror.

It wasn't until I got about 10 miles away.. filling up my gas, putting my parents address into my GPS. It wasn't until then that I'd realized I was close to being free.

So I rolled the windows down, turned the radio up and we sang along to every song on the radio. Ethan, may have been too young to sing along. But he was happy.

And I guess it was different than the casual fantasy of just getting in the car. It was planned. There was no great escape(but it was an escape). It was two pretty full days of driving, with the two kids. And I can't honestly recall one bad thing from the trip. I just remember the sun, and happiness.

This was before I had to worry, this was before what I realized what it all was going to mean. This was before I knew that the next six months of my life would give me more stress, sleepless nights, and all that jazz associated with trying to break the ties that bind. Break those ties but leave two precious little beings fully in tact.

There are times, I miss that very moment. Windows rolled down, driving to escape hurt.

Not because I'm wanting to escape anything now, my life is good. It was just a moment in life you get so little of. Freedom at it's very essence.

Sometimes I'm envious of myself that day. I don't think at the time I realized that as an adult encumbered by bills, work, events... well as an adult such moments like that are so very very fleeting.

At the same time, I'm pretty sure that me then would be envious of me now. Having all the answers to those burning questions. Having peace. KNOWING in my heart, it's going to be ok.

I leave this blog with some lyrics from a song, that I've always loved. Lyrics from a song that constantly reminds me of that time.

"all we have to do now, is take these lies and make them true somehow. All we have to see is that I don't belong to you and you don't belong to me"

You get what you give

Sun, 28 Apr 2013 03:54:19 GMT

The past few weeks. Immense stress. Nothing I can't overcome, or won't. Just basic general little speedbumps in life.

This blog will be fairly all over the place. It's some random random thoughts.

We start with the Boston Marathon bombings, and that day. The day started with my son early in the morning saying "mommy, we live in a beautiful world" I looked at my son with so much pride. Because firstly his comment was so right. And secondly, that is something that I would say. I guess maybe maybe maybe I'm doing something right.

Then the bombings. I take these acts very very very hard. I'm a soft soul, and to me such violence is really just non sensical. I can't compute.

And the instant I saw the news I thought "sometimes, I'm wrong. Sometimes my beautiful sweet boy is wrong. Sometimes it's not a beautiful world"

That thought was I found a snap judgement. The actions afterwards showed me nothing more than the love and decency of most people. The fact people will do anything they can to help. I get tears in my eyes thinking of that day, the horror I saw then tempered with the downright decency of humanity.

People said "this is why I don't want to have children" and I GET THAT. I get that so much. There are days I fear so much the world my babies are growing up in. There are days I hope and pray no harm ever comes from them. There are days I feel everything is so ugly they are so beautiful and it's just not fair.

BUT those things aren't true. We have some indiviuals who want to do harm. We have people who preach hate. We have people who will go to great lengths to do what they can to kill.

And I realized that I could let my children live in that fear, or I can let them be aware but let them also know that I believe they are the little lights.

THEY can do all they can to show smiles, to give love. They can be extensions of the love their mother feels for humanity. Maybe I'm wrong. But this is what I'm going with.

I have friends who bitch non stop about their lives and the obstacles that get in their way, and why the can't and why they won't and why they never ever get what they want.

And I have my MFP friends who have just a many if not more obstacles, and say "hey, screw you obstacles watch me crush you". That's how this place has inspired me in so many ways. Instead of being in the face of adversity and crying, I say "well...angela.. how can you fix this.. what is the solution"

It's an imperfect life we all live, mine included.

But you DO get the love you give back, maybe not instantly but you do. Despite the stress I've been feeling and the things I want to get better...

Every single day I sit a few times with tears of happiness in my eyes. Because, I am so very blessed. He was RIGHT. It IS a beautiful world. And we all have to work every day to keep it that way.

I could go on longer.. because honestly I've got so much to say. But really truly, this was the important thing.

Pregnancy

Fri, 19 Apr 2013 14:18:25 GMT

It won't destroy your body, it's actually quite wonderful. Some of the attitudes I see on here, regarding pregancy really seem quite unfortunate to me.

When I had my daughter, after she was born I weighed 200 lbs. I had no real clue of how much I had gained, I was a little irresponsible with my eating. Well I ate everything. I never ever moved. I'd go to work and sit all day, I'd come home straight to the couch.

I recall eating an entire half a chicken meal at Boston Market for lunch. After of course a breakfast sandwich at Jack in the Box. Then go home have a full dinner and ice cream. Gosh it was fun.

Before my pregnacy I was 147.5. I'd never worked out after a life of being thin. Seeing the number after my daughter was a big wakeup call.

I tried to be active and go to the gym after she was born. But it wasn't in me. So I didn't.

Eating better, I'd gotten down to 170 when I found out I was pregnant with my son.

As soon as he was able to go to the gym and I'd been given the greenlight to work out.. I was there every single day. 2 hours a day. I worked my ass off for the three years I stayed at home with them.

Since then, I've not been able to go as much as I'd like. I work, I've dealth with a heart murmer.. I've had a surgery on my finger and now I deal with Sciatica which can keep me out of the gym for weeks on end.

But pregnacy for me was not a death sentance. To be honest I miss feeling the little kicks inside me. I miss that glow. I worked my butt off to get here and I want everybody to know.. anything you put your mind to you can do. I now need to focus more on strength.. I've got many more goals for this body of mine. And I'll do it.

Pregnacy is beautiful and anything it does to your body is temporary. But the love is permanant. The amount of which your heart will open is enormous.

I'm now 137.4. 10 lbs down from where I was when I found out I was pregnant. I now lift, I now run. I now can do anything. And I will.

You have every right to be scared, or nervous of the changes that will occur. And your body may never be exactly the same. But with some work you will be stronger and your life more enriched.

And if you decide it's not for you. That's alright too. I remember a point in time I thought maybe I didn't want to do that to my body either. But I'm glad I did.

This photo is about 8 months pregnant

Also 8 months pregnant

This last summer.

And of course my profile photo. Taken this morning.