tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20593078969560991542024-03-05T19:09:35.209-08:00A mama trying to find peace in a house of chaosHeatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-81156140423439883442010-11-29T19:18:00.001-08:002010-11-29T19:22:03.721-08:00Learning..Today I want to discuss trust. What does trust mean to you? Sure, there is a definition buried somewhere in Webster’s Dictionary, but what does it really mean? <br />I’ve had “trust" issues my entire life, and I half-way know where they stem from, but in all curiosity I often wonder…what breaks someone’s trust…from everyone? I know that trust is an issue that I’ll battle for the rest of my life. I hope that one day I can fully trust someone. I have a handful of people that I consider my close friends, whom I <em>think</em> I can trust. <br />What can I do to better myself with my trust issue? Where can I learn to trust in myself and be a more confident woman and mother? Does it come with age or is it something learn to do? At what point can I say I fully trust someone? I hate having these horrible thoughts scramble through my mind, it’s torture. I’ve had a failed marriage, that I often wonder how much I can blame on my lack of trust. It’s ironic, because in the end, I was the one who couldn’t be trusted. This is one “challenge” I’ve set for myself, to become more trusting. It may be easier said than done, but I’m working on it.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-80896077788515219112010-11-25T17:01:00.001-08:002010-11-25T17:07:31.446-08:00ChangeIt has been sometime since I last blogged. I will admit, I have missed it a bit, I do enjoy writing. Life has changed dramatically. Some good, some bad. I’ve felt at times that my life has fallen apart, but I think in the long run, the decisions I’ve made will only make me stronger and happier. Those are my intentions anyhow. <br />Though some people may not think so, I am working on myself. I’m learning what it will take to make myself happier in general. I want to be a better person and most importantly be the best mother that I can be. I’ve learned what it’s like to be a single mother, and everyone is right, it’s hard and scary as hell. Not that I didn’t expect any of this to be easy, it’s just flat out scary sometimes to be alone. Again, I feel like this choice was best for me. I hope I’m right.<br />Music has been my saving grace the last 6 months, as always it picks me up during hard times. I can think back to all the hardest times of my life, and music has always lifted me. I’m grateful that have a passion so strongly for something that during my hardest times, it can bring all the broken pieces back together. <br />Through all the tears and heartache the hardest part of all of this has been the important people I’ve lost in my life. With a divorce there will always be people who won’t approve; Several people who I thought I’d always have in my life have just disappeared. Sadly enough, a handful of those people are family members. That’s what hurts the most, I don’t understand how people would rather two people live unhappily (for the children) than live apart and be happy. I’ve learned who I can trust and who I can’t. I’ve learned the importance of friendship and what it truly means. I’ve learned who loves me and who doesn’t. Now I’m learning how to love myself again.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-42975555619408429932010-06-22T09:53:00.001-07:002010-06-22T09:53:53.980-07:00<object width='300' height='180'><embed src='http://widget.lyricsmode.com/i/scroll2.swf?lid=624552&speed=4' width='318' height='181' type='application/x-shockwave-flash'/></embed></object><br><a href='http://www.lyricsmode.com' target='_blank'>Lyrics</a> | <a href='http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/t/thriving_ivory/' target='_blank'>Thriving Ivory lyrics</a> - <a href='http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/t/thriving_ivory/twilight.html' target='_blank'>Twilight lyrics</a>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-88007575392399453842010-05-27T13:34:00.000-07:002010-05-27T13:40:46.554-07:00I've yet to forgetA very wise and wonderful woman gave me this. It really hits home lately, and 6 years later I can relate to it more than ever. <div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">After a while, you learn the subtle difference</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> between holding a hand and chaining a soul.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and company doesn't mean security.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and present's aren't promises,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and you begin to accept your defeats</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">with your head up and your eyes open,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and learn to build all your roads on today</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and futures have a way of falling down midflight.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and after a while, you learn</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">that even sunshine burns if you get too much.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">So plant your own soul,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And you learn that you really can endure...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">that you really are strong</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and you really do have worth</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and your learn and learn...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">with every goodbye, you learn.</span></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-32946651505520165572010-05-27T11:49:00.000-07:002010-05-27T11:58:58.200-07:00Building Strength<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><i><b>"This world is filled with things that will </b></i><i><b>never</b></i><i><b> make sense. Trying to make much sense of them will only result in one thing; Spending the rest of your life</b></i><i><b> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">trying to remember what you were like before any of it mattered.</span></b></i><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">"</span></b></i></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><i><b>-Matthew Good</b></i></span></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-67920452523903991302010-04-19T08:05:00.000-07:002010-04-19T09:12:42.065-07:00What means the mostI'm going through a hard time in my life and I wanted to remember everything that makes me happy. It's important to me to stay positive even during hard times in my life. Enjoy friends. <3
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<br /><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w9.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http%3A%2F%2Fw9.photobucket.com%2Falbums%2Fa80%2Floveben%2F45764675.pbw" height="360" width="480"><a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" ></a><a href="http://s9.photobucket.com/albums/a80/loveben/?action=view¤t=45764675.pbw" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" ></a></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-88293756540032859052009-12-24T23:27:00.001-08:002009-12-24T23:32:48.172-08:00accomplishment<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2WtFq6TbW-2Bmq68GvlYai-fglsn9iQaQ4-HR3WqLQHhAY7_CJRPWsJEx7gqhL80AEz96XTA0VZA2HZdHcfi1FYPPmakj9AI6bj_5UD_1318x65RLsSVuV_Vhd7cMi9EDxJRL8JyTns/s1600-h/DSC_0196-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419072332036751618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2WtFq6TbW-2Bmq68GvlYai-fglsn9iQaQ4-HR3WqLQHhAY7_CJRPWsJEx7gqhL80AEz96XTA0VZA2HZdHcfi1FYPPmakj9AI6bj_5UD_1318x65RLsSVuV_Vhd7cMi9EDxJRL8JyTns/s320/DSC_0196-1.jpg" /></a><br /><div> </div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-44782334210728483562009-11-01T19:58:00.000-08:002009-11-01T20:24:12.884-08:00the old me<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMm5XTYPmuX4yz6jz3ytDUeCADPKisLMYwoV9apDJEEAcQyw-3yvM39FuPoBJv5jpy-skaxoCQkxUNHx9eZY2iC2cDLg2huay9yT0g7ILbYvS2TuAJBIZtCIEkGCSJ2sVF7IShMHnnMFo/s1600-h/h6.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399356733495468914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMm5XTYPmuX4yz6jz3ytDUeCADPKisLMYwoV9apDJEEAcQyw-3yvM39FuPoBJv5jpy-skaxoCQkxUNHx9eZY2iC2cDLg2huay9yT0g7ILbYvS2TuAJBIZtCIEkGCSJ2sVF7IShMHnnMFo/s320/h6.bmp" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZ055XeJFszwzrs96iWhtJn8EOfiTAPpgM1KetfIh1u7N_8IpuYlJ8Lk8gKGRtZOWJaj0GtCMRjxm4iTQW_3S3aRdwIFeZ94cphwosRNHJsxS2SapC1W7lQTVs_dGHb1m8cN2bCcFWEA/s1600-h/h8.bmp"></a>I often wonder, at what point in my life I morphed into the person I’ve become? I’m assuming I made my transition between high school and becoming a mother. It’s hard not to wonder what like would be life would be like had I not married and had children so young. I wouldn’t trade my children for the world, but I think it’s a rational feeling that everyone in some point in their life has. Am I right?<br /><br />I see quirks in myself that 5 years ago I would have never dreamt I would have. I’ve become an over analytical, obsessive, moody mother. Thank you estrogen. Life seems so much simpler for men! Ugh! I look in the mirror and realize that I look like a tired, worn down mom who could give two shits how she looks. I don’t want to be that person, Even though I am in fact, a tired, worn down mom, I certainly don’t want it to show in my appearance. I’m too young.<br /><br />So with that in mind, I have a goal. I want the body back that I had three babies ago. The process will suck ass majorly, but I can do it. I have no clue where to start. It’s hard to go from cramming chocolate down my throat when I’m having a “meltdown” to eating celery or cucumbers. I plan to take baby steps. I don’t like feeling like I can’t have something to eat, that’s why diets never work for me. I hate to exercise knowing I’m doing it to lose weight. I do however enjoy working out. I’ve neglected one sport that had once been a very important part of my life. Rock climbing used to be my favorite past time. It isn’t easy to make time for that sorta’ thing when diapers and brea<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgWKW7doMiDQvecoiAo9ZXsgTAZy88tx6-28fwHDaYuDR1TssYD1tvJDRTBgyVhlQv-4e3bfzZHpkYaU4fWZ_cDmCRhsX9uBtokInsd-aBu6XhrlUAT96RABD0-doPms5ILRGJKmPUOO4/s1600-h/butt001.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 225px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399352967476699026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgWKW7doMiDQvecoiAo9ZXsgTAZy88tx6-28fwHDaYuDR1TssYD1tvJDRTBgyVhlQv-4e3bfzZHpkYaU4fWZ_cDmCRhsX9uBtokInsd-aBu6XhrlUAT96RABD0-doPms5ILRGJKmPUOO4/s320/butt001.jpg" /></a>stfeeding TWO babies come first. The joys of being a mom. But I’m going to make an effort to make time for myself and work for the body that’s hiding it’s self from me at the current time. I <em>can</em> do this.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><div><br /> </div><div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-51138622415113147152009-10-21T18:44:00.001-07:002009-10-21T18:54:29.310-07:00My HeartThese little boys can melt my heart in an instant. It's unbelievable how my life has changed since becoming a mother. It isn't always easy, but I wouldn't change it for the world. They make me want to be a better person, and become who <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpG1euiRtroLdo95wKCDQuI3iFiXyxCw14NV3LD5eGFoXKPrTZJXSgAg_CsgTMoEK5p8sE9dTxIhAJ6znvgj_r0ypcDakEeyKleuQLUH9gKpuE2pfWBRsmaHjCRFaf7Zf0VT7owjieMwU/s1600-h/DSCF6492.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395234467775784146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpG1euiRtroLdo95wKCDQuI3iFiXyxCw14NV3LD5eGFoXKPrTZJXSgAg_CsgTMoEK5p8sE9dTxIhAJ6znvgj_r0ypcDakEeyKleuQLUH9gKpuE2pfWBRsmaHjCRFaf7Zf0VT7owjieMwU/s320/DSCF6492.jpg" /></a><br />I've dreamed of becoming.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> My three sons.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2059307896956099154.post-87690637401666637692009-10-19T18:14:00.000-07:002009-10-19T22:20:19.838-07:00Being Obsessive<span style="font-size:85%;">It seems frightening to me to share my intimate thoughts and feelings with the world, but you only live once, right? My whole life I’ve kept some sort of journal, rather it was on paper or online, and I’ve been able to choose who I want to have access to them. It's time to join the rest of people my age and be a part of the blogging world. I can't keep all my toughts crammed away on paper or stored in my mind, it's time to let loose. So here goes nothing.<br /><br />As a mother, I find myself obsessing over things that I never thought I’d obsess over. Hell, I’ve never been one to obsess over anything, so this is strange for me. I’ve become one of those over analytical - germaphobe mothers. Frankly, the kind of person I never wanted to be. I was sitting at the doctors office the other daywith one of my boys, and a <strong>teenager</strong> sneezed without covering her mouth! I wanted to slap her across her pimply face and her mother too for that matter. It was quite obvious that H1N1 is quite contagious, and that most of the children sitting there could cook an egg on their feverish heads and she sneezed without covering her mouth. Are you effing kidding me?!?! What kind of manners has that child learned? Ugh! Needless to say, I wanted to tuck my child underneath my shirt (don’t worry Alicia, I’d never do such a thing! Lol ) and protect him from all the funk that the room had been contaminated with. Gah, thinking about that makes my skin crawl!<br /><br />For the almost three and a half years I’ve been a mother, I’ve wondered to whom I can place blame on my being obsessive. I haven’t always been that way, so what’s changed? I find myself stressing out <strong><span style="color:#ff6666;">WAY</span></strong> too much over breastfeeding my twins, and if I’m giving them enough, and if the routine I’ve set is what’s best, because there has to be a system that works better than the way I’ve doing things, right? Why can’t I be content and confident in myself with breastfeeding, it’s suppose to be a natural thing, not something that causes my neck to feel as if it’s in knots by the end of the day. Why didn’t anyone warn me how hard being a mommy really is? It’s not just losing independence or stinky diapers, or empty bank accounts, it’s so much more. But really, when it all comes down to it, when I go to sleep at night, I’m happy.<br /><br />As much as I love my kids, I often feel <strong>very</strong> overwhelmed. I wonder, "what in the hell have I gotten myself into?" After a few days with the husband gone, my stress level sky rockets. A woman can only handle so much. After countless shitty diapers, 15 minute naps, temper tampers and whatever else my children like to throw my way, I'm done. I want a break. A long one. I then realize the importance of "me time." When I do manage to squeeze time for myself in the day, it's short lived. I feel guilty for leaving my husband alone with two screaming babies and an overly stimulated, energentic three year old. I need to realize that he <em>can</em> handle them by himself and that i'm not supermom. I realize I need to quit being obsessive.<br /><br />So there we have it in a not-so-organized modge podge of words, my first blog etry. I did it. Sigh.</span>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11454160543884848205noreply@blogger.com0