42 years in the making....

I sit here today pondering my 42 years on this planet. Yes, today is my birthday. I was born on April 3, 1966. It was a Palm Sunday in San Antonio, Texas where I made my debut. Believe it or not I had enough hair to pull up when I finally decided to enter the world.

I am an only child. I know, I know, there are so many clichés that go with that title. Yes, I am a tad bit spoiled even in my 40s. Don’t be hating on me because of it. I try not to ask for many things; however, my parents are very generous and I am very blessed. In all honesty, if the Lord asked me to pick any two people in the world to be my parents, I would have selected them. They are loving, loyal, compassionate, faithful, honest, caring people. I could use a thousand more positive things to describe them; however, I won’t. It would take pages to describe what good souls they both are and continue to be.

I have a multitude of first cousins. I am close to some but not all of them. It is a large generation gap in that some of my first cousins are actually older than my father. Kinda weirds me out when I think about it…. My paternal grandmother had her first child in 1915 and my Daddy, who is the baby, came along in 1939. Kinda all spread out… My maternal grandmother (Nana) gave birth to five children. My Mama is the middle child. They are a little spread out in that my youngest Aunt (Auntie D) is 11 years younger than Mama and 11 years older than me. She is like my big sister. I am grateful for her and love her tremendously.

Over the course of my 42 years I have learned many life lessons. Lessons that I would like to share with you now. So without further adieu let’s get started, shall we?

Do not under any circumstances define yourself by who you are in a relationship with at all! There was a time that people only knew me as Mrs. (name of first husband here) and did not actually know my name. It bothered me but not enough to speak up. Now I know better. I am not Mrs. or Frau (Mein Deutscher). I am Klinde, but you all know that’s not my real name but I digress…

Do not let people take advantage of you. Too many times I was burned because I would allow people to walk all over me. I was too intimidated to speak up for fear they would no longer like. I had the mad desire to please everyone all the time and would let people run me over. Now I speak up and make my voice heard and if someone disagrees or doesn’t want to be around me because of it, so be it. At least I got it off of my chest and I can not sit and sulk or worry over it.

Learn to handle money. I was a victim of credit abuse. I loved the instant purchasing power that Visa gave me. I fell into debt that was in the five figure category. Thanks to my gracious parents, they bailed me out, not once, not twice, but three times. I no longer have any type of credit card because I know I can not control myself with them. If I can’t pay for it with cash, then I can’t have it, plain and simple. No, I did not learn this from Dave Ramsey, I did this on my own because I know how I am.

You have no biological children, so what? Yes, I know that a big dream of mine was to have a bunch of rug rats. God had a different plan for me. I do not understand it; however, I do accept it because He knows better than I. The caveat is that I hate not giving my parents a grandchild because that was always a dream of theirs. My bloodline ends with me. It is a depressing thought but one that I will live with gracefully. Don’t get me wrong, I am totally in love with my seven year old step son, but wanted one of my very own. I think most women feel that need to be a mom but it just wasn’t in the cards for me.

I have a very addictive personality. Admittedly so, and I am still a work in progress on this one. There are many hurdles. When I say addictive it does not refer to drugs and alcohol, but a multitude of sins. My current addiction is playing games online. Past addictions have included cross-stitching, pottery, UT football, needlepoint, and decorating just to name a few…

So after 42 years I would like to say I have learned a little something about this thing we call life. Hopefully there will be more valuable lessons learned as I venture on my path.

I rule!

Yet another eventful weekend has come to pass. The Bubbie made his arrival Wednesday evening. The German, his father, made his departure (work-related) on Thursday morning. Two full days of being Munchkin, step mom extraordinaire. Yes, he calls me Munchkin. Yes, I am short. I like it though!

Well day one of single Mommy went well. I picked him up after work from my parents. We went and had Mexican. I made him try guacamole. He did not like it. I am not sure if we can still be friends due to this but I will find a way to get over it I am sure. We get home and one of us gets a hot bubble bath. Sadly that someone was not me. I get to check homework, find something suitable on TV, find a book for him to read aloud to me and make my lunch for the next day. Mission accomplished as he is clean, there is a book, homework is all good and we are both in our jammies. Life is good. I am exhausted. I am not used to this. I have a hard enough time taking care of myself, thank you very much.

The next morning my father arrives at 6:30 so I do not have to go about 20 miles round trip in the wrong direction. I check in on Bubbie before my departure and he is awake (much to my father’s chagrin). We snuggle a moment, get in our hugs and kisses and I prepare to depart. As I let go of that cherubic face I tell him I love him. For the first time ever he says “I love you too, Munchkin”. I melt and can now face the day.

That evening I get to my parents house after a quick run to Kroger. I have realized that I have nothing for this child to take home for St. Nicholas Day on December 6th. I also need to get dinner for us both....

I run over to the folks house, bustle the kiddo into the car and scoot on home. I have a special treat for dinner…. All of you who are parents are going to die… I gave a seven year old 3 HUGE scoops of Cookies-n-Cream for dinner. Yep, you heard right, that was dinner. You can bet your bottom dollar he cleaned his plate (bowl actually) too.

I got a really big kick out of watching the sugar buzz kick in. I asked him if he needed to run and his answer was “yep”. So run he did… And run, and run, and run. That lasted about 2-3 hours. In between sprints we giggled and told silly stories. We were waiting for his Papa to come home. The German finally made it home close to 11p. As punishment, I had to sleep with a sugared up 7 year old. I told the Bubbie it was our secret and that each time he came for a visit he could have one crazed evening involving junk food for dinner. I think he is now my biggest fan because that is when he blurted out "my Munchkin rules!!!".

The purpose of his visit (aside from time with us) was to attend a kid’s Christmas party at the German’s company. Talk about fun! Once I find the cord, I will download photos and you can see what I am talking about… It was awesome! I got my face painted as did Bubbie. We jousted, we rode the slide, we had balloon animals, we had a family caricature drawn that he took back with him to hang in his room at his Mom’s house.

All in all it was great. Even the kitty did not seem to mind him that much. Which is highly unusual for her....

For all you parents out there, I bow to you. I am pooped.

Back to normal programming

I did not mean to take a blogging hiatus. Life has an annoying habit of getting in the way of things you mean to do. There has been an onslaught of things to do personally. The German and I have been preparing for the arrival of the Bubbie on Wednesday, November 28th. He is coming in for a children’s Christmas party that the German’s company throws annually. He goes back home to Jersey on Sunday, December 2nd.

The downside is that the German has to be out of town the Thursday and Friday that the Bubbie is here. I am pissed. Mind you, not at the German. It is not his fault. He told people a while back that his son was going to be here and that he could not travel during that time. We get the Bubbie infrequently. We have only seen him 16 days this entire year. And now that we get him for just four precious days, my German has to go out of town on business. Bubbie lands the evening of the 28th. The German has to depart either before Bubbie arrives or around 4a on Thursday. It slices his time with his son in half and I am livid.

Don’t get me wrong, I know this is not anyone’s fault. Business is business and something came up. I know that is out of everyone’s control. It just makes my heart ache for my husband and his son.

I love my step son with my whole heart. My parents adore him as he is the only grandchild they will ever know. The Bubbie even calls them Memere and Pepere which is the Cajun names for grandparents. He loves spending time with them and is spoiled completely rotten by them and my 86 year old Nana who lives with them. Who would not want that kind of attention? Of course my parents are utterly exhausted each day they watch him while I work (I wiped out my vacation in March going to Hamburg to meet my German’s parents).

Basically I needed to vent. I wanted to go visit my other friends in bloggyland as well after my two week stint of being offline. There will be more later on the visit as it is always a good time when the Bubbie comes to visit… Unless of course you are my cat... She remembers the previous visit.

News you can use

I learned something valuable while the Bubbie was here… No matter how much a seven year old begs, it is NOT a good idea to let them have 5 popsicles in a 2 hour period.... Especially not starting at 8:00p....

Lesson learned…. The hard way…

Center Piece of your family

Reason number 1,107,727 why I love the German...

A little over three years ago, my parents called me, their only child, regarding an important issue... They wanted to move Nana here from San Antonio. She was about to turn 84.

This was way before the cancer diagnosis, and Mama gave her two options. Move here before Christmas 2004 or after Easter 2005. Pick one. She chose the latter.

I had no problem saying move her here. It was understood that Nana would live her final years with Mama and Daddy. Completely unspoken. Trust me, I lived close enough to her most of my life to know the drill.

Of course I had no issue. I know she is is aging. I know that encompasses change. I know that she has survived two husbands. I know she is a strong, proud woman. The youngest of a group of sisters. She grew up poor. She raised five children. She has eight grandchildren. She does crossword puzzles in black ink. She had a rotary dial phone. She plays a mean game of canasta. She rocks.

She turned 86 today. She was a widow for the first time at 42. I will be 42 next year and that fact scares the shit out of me. She was widowed again shortly before her 80th birthday.

She is a strong woman. She is a beautiful woman. Did I mention she still does crossword puzzles in ink?

So anyway, when Mama and Daddy had the family meeting (yes, we really do have family meetings) to let me know they wanted to move her here (we are still a family democracy so my vote counts) I said yes. They asked me what the German thought. Honestly, his opinion never crossed my mind. Sorry, this was about my Nana. I grew up with her, he didn't. It may be wrong, but it's the truth. We (Mama, Daddy and I) made a decision, wasn't that all that mattered? Mama in her ever politically correct way told me the German now had a vote. We lived together then, not yet engaged. I was planning a future with him. It mattered. His answer? The title of the blog. He told me that if Mama. Daddy and I were run over by a truck, his job was her. To take her back to her biological family unless she wanted him to be the care taker.... The answer is, she loves him, but no. Get her to Texas.

So in a REALLY roundabout way, happy 86th birthday. You are the oldest person the Bubbie knows. You are the cornerstone of the "M" family. You are still a card shark. You still have the same laugh. You are still the same woman who could not get out of the wheelchair since Mama threatened you (insert "M" family joke). You still made me eat lemon egg (Jentina, I am looking at you).

You are the cornerstone of our family.

Thank your parents!

Seriously. Quit reading and call your parents. Tell them thank you. Being a parent is HARD WORK and do not let anyone tell you otherwise!!

Biologically the Bubbie is not mine. Emotionally and mentally he is 100%. I can not physically have biological children; however, I have the best of both worlds when it comes to the Bubbie... An incredibly brilliant, articulate, amazing, beautiful human being to laugh with and share secrets. To snuggle with, to see things in a perspective I have not in decades. But mostly to love.

I am wiped out. The energy he exudes seems directly correlated to the energy that is sucked out of me. No, I am not complaining. He is worth it. Being physically drained at work is a fair trade for the joy that bubbles out of watching him delight in the little things. His laugh is lyrical, magical and creates a feeling I have no way to describe in words... All I can say is it makes me feel even more alive. Like I can feel everything to the highest degree and see it all over again as if it were new to me as well.

He is only here until August 12th. So much to do, so little time.

Parents everywhere, KUDOS! There is a special place in Heaven just for you... What a blessing!!

I know you hear me but are you listening?!

When you hear rain fall does it blend together or do you listen to the distinctive pattern of the individual drops on your umbrella?

As the train whooshes down the track, you hear the rumble and hum, but do you actually listen to the noise of the locomotive’s engine?

When you have on the radio do you actually pay attention to the songs? Or is it just disregarded as background music that you hardly miss if you flip off the switch? I truly enjoy music; however, when I am in my own little world I have a way of disassociating myself with the actual lyrics and simply hear the melodious strain of the instruments and do not necessarily listen to the actual song as a whole.

The subtle nuances between hearing and listening can make the difference in many circumstances. Particularly it may assist in understanding others and alleviating disagreements.

I have found that many times people hear you talking but do not actually listen to what it is you are saying. In my experience that leads to arguments, misunderstandings and hurt feelings.

We are all guilty of this be it intentional or unintentional Life has a funny habit of getting in the way and, at times, keeps us from paying closer attention to the actually things happening around us vis a vis listening versus hearing.

I have learned in my life that if I actually take time out to listen my experiences are deeper, richer and more fulfilling. It’s almost going from black and white to the full spectrum of the rainbow… I hear the Bubbie’s laughter as he delights at accomplishments, learning a new task or watching cartoons. But when I listen to it I can breathe it in and join with the revelry. There is so much more available to me if I would only listen.

You've got the rhythm, I've got the blues

There are days when I suffer almost uncontrollable depression. It does not usuallly pounce on me but instead tiptoes in and then infiltrates my entire being. Today is one of those days that it crept in gradually and latched on tight. There is not just a specific, on the contrary, today many deep, dark thoughts have been swirling around and consuming me. Generally when this occurs I turn to prayer, talk to trusted people in my circle or journal. Today I have chosen the latter.

You may ask what has triggered me today? Well gentle reader the list is long and I am in one of those gut-splling modes today. I am of the mind that if I recite the litany maybe I can crawl out of the hole I find myself in today.

Part one has been a build up. In mid May I had a falling out with someone I mistakenly thought was a good friend. She is very outspoken and has a tendency to be vindictive. I was so hurt by her actions that I have only been able to speak to her once since that time. I told her that I was hurt but she seemed to dismiss that and assumed things were status quo. I have been unable to speak to her since because I am frightened that all the pent up hurt I have will be unleashed and I will say something I will deeply regret. The bigger problem is that our husbands work together so I will have to see her at some point. I have to find someway to resolve this within myself so I can find peace. Maybe then I can deal with what happens the next time I see her face to face.

Part two is my nervous, anxious feeling about having the Bubbie here for two weeks. The Bubbie does not make me nervous; however, having him here when both the German and I have to work does. I am a step mom as I am unable to have children by strict instructions of my doctor. Inherting a child when he is four is difficult when you only gets him in small doses. I have had excellent counsel from Heather and am grateful. I am still wiggy because I have never had to worry about getting someone ready in the morning aside from myself. I know there are thousands upon thousands of people who accomplish this feat each and every day. Why am I freaking out it about it? No clue. I guess it is just a change in my morning routine. And not being a morning person makes it even more challenging to face. I am excited he is coming but overwhelmed by the thought of being a full time mom. I know I am a ninny and that is the smallest of my concerns because I know when I see his face I will melt like butter.

Part three is my car is acting ugly. Yep, it's a 15 year old Honda. Nope, I can not afford a new one right now so I have to make due. I am just getting nervous about the large funds (which I do not have) I will have to pay to keep it going another year or two until I can afford a new one. I know my parents would lend it to me but as a 41 year old woman I do not want to go that route unless I exhaust all other avenues.

Part four is Mama. As I have said before she has IIIB lung cancer and I worry about her all the time. Even though all the tests came back clean I still panic as I can not imagine a world without her in it. I pray each day that it will be a good day for her. But I still worry incessantly. At times it permeates my entire being.

All these thoughts are spiraling through my brain and, unfortunately, taking root. I am hoping tomorrow will be a better day. The good thing about a busy day at work is that I have little or no time to dwell on what ails me. It is when I get in the car to come home that I am possessed with the thoughts that rule my emotions.

Sorry to dump so much out there in bloggyland but I needed an avenue to vent and purge the nasties dancing around my head.

Funf Jahr

Funf Jahr = Five year... And that is what is being celebrated today - Five years of marriage for Ambie and the chef. I have known the chef about 15 years or so but have only known Ambie almost three years. They are a wonderful couple (and I'm not just saying that 'cuz their family) and mein Deutscher and I love them to pieces! Aside from the Bubbie, they are the only members of the German's family that reside on the good ole U.S. of A.

So happy anniversary you two!! Much love from the two of us! Here's to 50 more!

die Stiefmutter

die Stiefmutter = Step mother

Let's set the record straight regarding the Bubbie.... He is not mine by birth... He is mine by marriage... He is six. He will be seven next month. He is by all accounts, beautiful, brilliant and quite mature for his age. That is if there is such a thing as a mature six year old...

Not being physcially able to have my own offspring increases my love for the Bubbie even more so. He is a smaller replica of mein Deutscher. Not much smaller mind you as the kid is about 4'3" (or less than a foot shorter than me if you must know).

I am sorry we do not get to see him very often; however, he lives in New Jersey so visits are hard to come by since it involves flights and possibly hotels and rental cars if we just go to see him. Gets pricey quickly... Especially if you would actually like to do something with him or (gasp) eat...

I think I am taking on the role of "Stiefmutter" quite well. I treat him with honesty, integrity and respect. I cheer his successes and kiss away the boo-boo's. It's a given that I love the Bubbie. I have known him since the day he was born. Used to baby sit for him when the German was married to his ex-wife. My whole family has embraced him as well. With my being an only child, he is the only grandchild Mama and Daddy will know. The Bubbie refers to them as Memere and Pepere, the Cajun nicknames for grandparents. The Bubbie delights in the Nana having lost his last biological great-grandparent 4 or 5 years ago. Mama, Daddy and Nana love having him around and are utterly exhausted upon his departure having played, cuddled and loved on him the entire time he visits.

With the notable exception of the cat being totally petrified of him, there is no problem in the world with the Bubbie. Wherein the problem lies is the mother of the Bubbie... She and I were never close. I was always the German's friend, not her's. I had known him for almost four years before they even met. She expects us to take the Bubbie according to what fits her schedule. She expects my German to be the one who has to take a full day off from work to pick him up while she is the one that can conveniently retrieve him on a Sunday. Do not get me wrong, mein Deutscher has no problem taking a day off from work to retrieve his son - that is not the issue. The problem is the expectation on her behalf that my German make the sacrifice of doing so to bring him for a visit because she, in her own words, "does not want to waste a vacation day". Selbstsuchtig = selfish anyone?

She does not adhere to a phone schedule with him. Mein Deutscher calls almost everyday. Usually with no joy as both the house and cell phone go unanswered. Two or three days later she will call and leave a message about how the Bubbie "did not feel like talking on the phone" for one reason or another. I get a bit huffy on that one... He is six, tell him he needs to talk to his Papa before he can watch Nick Jr or before he gets to go play outside. Even if it is just 60 seconds, I love the way my German's face lights up just hearing that little voice pipe up with "hi, Papa". Not being a full time mom or step mom, I am not sure if he is always that way; however, if it were me, my mother would tell me I needed to talk to my father before moving on to another thing... Oh wait a minute, that really did happen! Daddy traveled extensively when I was younger and that was the rule....

She approaches me with issues, questions, travel plans; however, when I breach the subject of travel first I am told I "am not his parent". True; however, fair's fair. If you approach me allow me the same courtesy to approach you. I am not trying to be his mother. He has a mother and when I married the German, I sent her a very heartfelt note telling her that I know my role is to cherish and encourage and love the Bubbie and watch out for his well being.

I am blessed to not be a product of divorce. The German is as well. None of my closest friends are the children of divorced parents nor are they step parents. Same thing with my boat-load of aunt and uncles. It is a slippery slope and I have no frame of reference for it. Never do I want to be compared to what seems to be the negatives of being a step mom. It is far too Cinderalla-esque for my tastes.

So I am calling all mom's and step mom's for advice as to how to handle the situation. Thoughts? Suggestions? All are welcome.

Times a wastin'... Or to be honest, wastin' time...

I am a tad bored.... The German is sick with a bad head cold and is taking his second or third (I lost count) nap of the day. The human petri dish was earlier spotted sniffing and sneezing his merry way throughout the house spreading his germs to all with nary a thought of my not wanting to share.

We had much planned today. He was to get a hair cut, there was a flower bed screaming out for mercy from the weeds that have taken over, there was shopping to attend to... The usual weekend drill in Hermitage has come to a grinding halt due to a raging case of the sniffles. God forbid I weed alone. That is one of the perks of being married, isn't it? You have a partner to battle the nefarious weeds that threaten to take over any spot in the yard. The only good thing about not having rain in eons is that I am not left the task of mowing said yard. I am far to prissy to use the weed eater, not to mention the fact that the damned thing intimidates the hell out of me... But that's a completely different story.

So here I sit with the trusty lap top that Nana got me for my 40th birthday. BTW, thanks, Nana, you rock! I sit, I type, I take sips from the liter bottle of Dasani. The German slumbers in the Bubbie's room while the evil siamese curls up on the sofa having exhasuted herself from too much time outdoors stalking lizards. Speaking of the evil siamese, today she is eight. Hard to believe the little "bundle o joy" and I have been together for so long.

As I sit and type, I think to myself "Klinde, do you think you can find a Blogging for Dummies book at Barnes and Noble"? I mean they have everything else for dummies... Like how to make balloon animals, how to remove gum from your shoe and so forth and so on... Certainly there must be a book to help me along because I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants and learning as I go... I need to find a support group that will help me along with my new blogging ventures. Maybe a twelve step program... "Hello, my name is Klinde and I do not how to do many things on my blogs". Everyone in unison will shout out "Hi Klinde" and then some kind soul will become my blog mentor.

Told you I was bored.