2014.....BYE FELICIA!!

  As we start to close our 2014 chapter you can't help but think of everything that has happened over the past year. For me this was a busy, weepy, exhausting year. Yet when i think about it, it was also a pretty educational year as well. I learned a lot about life and about myself this year. I lied to myself quite a bit this year. I made promises to myself that i didn't keep, and do I regret it? Yeah i guess so. I promised myself i would do 2 half marathons and a few other walks, and i didn't do them. So what did I take away from those promises that i didn't keep? I learned that I shouldn't be ridiculous and make such crazy promises to myself.

   This year brought me a lot of sadness and heartache. I lost my dad to cancer, and I felt like I lost my purpose. I also lost a sister, not in death, but a connection. With all of this happening, I felt lost, but it's amazing how you HAVE to find yourself so you can be that strength for someone else. And through all this pain and hurt and sadness i found that i am an incredibly strong person and that I can do anything! I discovered that I can raise 2 kids, a household, my dads estate and myself, not an easy task, but to be honest, i had the help of my brother. And to be even more honest.....i would be lost without him. If anything good came out of my dads passing, it was that it made a team out of my brother and myself. My brother and I endured a lot of grief and heartache over my dads passing, not because he passed away, but because we learned a lot about people during this time. I mentioned we lost a sister. Its amazing how money changes people, some for the good and some for the bad, and well, this was for the bad. But my brother and I had a united front and stood together, because we knew our dad, and we knew what his wishes were and we were going to make sure those wishes were carried out. And because of that it gave me a new respect for my kid brother. So thank you Dad, thank you for giving me something to hold on to and to treasure. I love you more than you will ever know, and I miss you so very very much.

  I learned a lot about family. I finally learned that you can't and won't make everyone happy. Someone is always going to be upset over something, and that's fine. I know I will never live up to expectations from some people, and I know that my personality upsets people, and that's fine too because I can't change that, nor would I want to. I learned that some people are forever miserable, and that we're all a bunch of crazies rolled in chocolate. But I think the most important lesson I learned this year about family is, I can not live my life for them. And by learning this, im one step closer to achieving my ultimate happiness.

  I know that once the new year hits we all make resolutions, and we all fail at them. Im not going to make some outlandish resolution this year, because honestly, I wont keep it. All i want for 2015 is to be happy. I want to be able to sit back and say "this is the best year ever". A lot of changes are going to be happening, some things may not make some people happy, and I may lose friendships and connections, but that's ok. Im going to be happy, i want to be happy, and i feel that i deserve that. Im excited, nervous, scared and a bit overwhelmed about the future, but all i can say is BRING IT ON.

  So i hope everyone has a great 2015, and i wish everyone happiness and joy. 

It's getting real.....

  As of 8am this morning my dads house has officially been put on the market. I  never in my wildest dreams ever thought this would happen. Im sitting here bawling my eyes out because I just realized that after this house is sold, there is nothing to call "dads" anymore, and its kind of  like a chapter being closed. Joey can't go ride his bike over there and shoot hoops while his grandpa critiques him and helps him get better, alex can't say "I wonder what grandpa wilder is watching on tv at his house", and I will no longer be able to go over and just plop in his chairs and watch bonanza with him. That house will be gone. Someone else will be living in there, making their own memories in that house.


  My parents bought that house in 1987, I was 5 and my brother was 2. So for my brother that's pretty much the only house he knew. Granted I don't have a whole lot of memories of both my parents together in that house, but that house was ours and it stayed ours all the way into our adulthood. While my mom and us moved a couple times, dads house always remained. He never left, which in a way was always comforting for myself. I just remember when I started playing softball, and I would be at my dads house that weekend I had a early 8am game, he would put my uniform in the dryer to make it warm. He would lay it on my bed while I was still sleeping and it helped me get up. He used to have a hot tub in the back yard, and my brother and I used to swim in it like it was a pool. Dad would let us bring our sodas in fancy glasses out to the hot tub and act like we were sophisticated adults. Lame I know.  We used to sit at the dining room table and go through TONS of baseball cards, and also roll coins.


  Im still not ok with my dad being gone. It still doesn't seem real.  It was heart wrenching having to go through his house and see what he chose to keep. He kept all the birth certificates for my cabbage patch dolls.  He kept every Christmas card I ever sent him/made him. He kept all my softball gear, and the line ups from when he managed my teams. Talk about great memories.


If there is one positive thing that's come out of all of this, is the bonding time ive gotten from my brother. My brother and I have always been close, but this I think has brought us closer. He and I grew up in that house, so we share the same memories. So being able to go through dads house and be like "omg remember this?" has been amazing. We cleaned out that house together, we gutted the garage together, we did it. Together. And on Saturday when we went over and mowed the lawn and finished up in the garage, the house was all locked up and we were standing there watering the lawn we knew this was it. The house that we've called our own for 27 years is no longer "ours".


To the next owners,


I hope you enjoy this house as much as we did. I hope you make lots of memories, and I hope you treat this house with extra love and truly appreciate it as much as I did. I hope you enjoy the hand made cupboards in the garage that my grandpa built. I hope you take pride in the yard and keep it up, because the outside of the house was my dads pride and joy. I hope you buy patio furniture and get to sit outside and watch your children/grandchildren play in the backyard like we did as kids.
  Just love this house, treat it well and just appreciate it and know that 27 years of love and devotion and memories still lay in that house.

You think you have/had it rough? Think again....

I remember growing up and thinking how terrible my parents were and how mean they were. I believe all kids do that, they always think that their friends have it better than you do. It's a weird thing. Of course when you become an adult you realize that you actually had it pretty great! I can't say that about my dad.


Now growing up, my dad never really talked about his past, his childhood, his parents etc. Everything he talked about in regards to his past went only as far as high school.  He would light up when he would talk about his days in the ocean surfing. How he and his best friends would ditch school to go surf. They would surf from sun up to sun down, and he LOVED it. He never talked about his mom, and when he would talk about his dad it was just "my dad would give me money and I wouldn't see him for a week. But if I needed anything, my dad would make sure I had it". That never seemed to bother him, and I never paid much attention to it. I just thought that's how they were back in the 50's and early 60's.


My dad has an older brother. His name is Lynn and he is only 16 months older than my dad. My dad would talk about him, about how his big brother would always stand up for him; would always take the beatings for him, and always made sure he was safe. Ive never met Lynn, nor have I ever talked to him on the phone. I know he lives in the Florida keys, I know he has a daughter with the same name and birthday as my sister and I know he has an adopted son from Cambodia. Keep in mind that both Lynn and my dad were very harsh, cold, no filter kind of people. They don't trust easily, they tend to keep people at a distance and don't really know how to compliment people, and my dad was that way up until the day he died.  It wasn't until my dad passed that I finally got to talk to Lynn on the phone along with his wife Cassandra, and after those conversations I found out EXACTLY why those boys are/were the way they are/were.  So when I say, you think you have/had it bad, read their story and you might change your mind.


My uncle Lynn was born February 20, 1943 and my dad July 5, 1944, in 1945 when my dad was only 11 months old his parents divorced. The boys ended up with their dad, which is considered rare in those days, but it was because their dad accused their mom of adultery; and in the 1940's that was lethal. He kept their mother from being able to visit them. As soon as their divorce was final, their father immediately got married. She was a horrible, horrible woman, and so was their father. Their father used to beat those boys until they were bruised, and would at times lock them in closets with the excuse of "children are meant to be seen, not heard". It got to the point where Lynn would take the blame for some of the things my dad did because he didn't want to see his little brother be beaten. Between the span of 1945-1972 their father was married 4 times, with countless women in between. Yes that's right, their father was also a womanizer. Could you imagine being a little boy and constantly seeing women come and go from your home, and none of them are your mother?? It wasn't until the boys were about 6-7 that they were playing out in the yard with their cousins when a car rolled up and a woman got out. She went up to the boys and told them she was their mother. These boys hadn't seen their mother since their parents divorced when they were 2 and 11 months old. She introduced herself gave them a hug, and then went on her way, to not be seen until they were in high school. Could you imagine?? You have a father who beats you and is a womanizer, and a mother who doesn't want you either. Now the personality is starting to make sense. Now I understand why my dad would get so upset when you compared him to his father. It was the biggest insult you could ever give. And my heart hurts so much that my dad had to endure this, and it hurts that he never told me.


When my dad finally made it to junior high school that's when he met his lifelong friend Buzzy. Buzzy was his godsend, his other brother, surf partner and get away. I truly believe Buzzy saved my dads life. Lynn on the other hand, didn't do so well. He flunked out of school, and joined the navy as soon as he could. He wanted out, and I don't blame him in the least bit. Once Lynn left, my dad lost contact with him, but it was ok because he had Buzzy. High school went pretty well for my dad. He got good grades, ditched a lot of course to surf, but still kept up with his homework and did well. He was still living with his dad, technically. His dad was a janitor at ventura college at this time, so he always made sure my dad had lunch money and money for dinner. Other than that my dad was considered a "latch key kid". He slept on a lot of couches, and spent a lot of time with friends. How my dad never held a grudge still blows my mind. He is definently a better person than I am, because I would have told my dad to burn in hell by now.


My dad reconnected with his mother later in life. I believe it slightly before his married his first wife that he started to develop a relationship with his mother. Again, he didn't hold a grudge when in reality he should have. She remarried and had adopted children, and yet wanted nothing to do with her birth children. His father remarried AGAIN. Only this time this wife, and final wife, gave him a run for his money. She pretty much drained him dry, and while some of that money belonged to my dad, im glad he finally got taken advantage of.


Now I don't really remember my grandfather all that well, he died when I was 5, but I remember him being a very cold, unwelcoming person. I remember being scared of him and not wanting to be around him. My grandmother I have some great memories with. She passed in 2008 and she was very warm and inviting. She made the best fried chicken, and always drank gin and tonic with a lime. She always smelled good and always gave hugs and slid you a $20 before you left.


After that long phone call, I thanked Lynn so much for opening up to me and giving me a glimpse of their childhood. I hadn't cried that much or that hard since the day my dad died. I started to feel so guilty for hoarding such bad feelings towards my dad for all those years. Then I started to get angry that he never told me these things. Had he told me, I would of had more of an understanding of my dad and would have been there to help him get those those issues.  But I know that my dad never opened up and told me these things because he was protecting his parents. He didn't want to stain their image, because to us they were great people to who took care of their boys. And I guess I can't be upset at that. My dad is much stronger than I ever could be, to be able to be a better person through all of this. I admire my dad and my love for him is overflowing. But I just can't help but see this little blonde, curly haired boy in complete sadness; not knowing where he belongs, if anyone loves him and only having a brother barely older than you taking care of you. And that makes me hurt more than you will ever know.


One day im going to read this to my kids, and im going to make sure that they know what their grandpa endured and what he had to go through as a child; and yet still came out on top. Even in death my dad manages to blow my mind. So when you say "my childhood was awful", I'd like to say "I doubt that".

Life and Death....it can be beautiful.....

Death.....it seems so weird and so morbid, until it strikes close to home.  I tried my best to make sure everyone was involved in the welfare of my father, because I felt it was important for people to be educated; and when I say "educated", I mean in a way of how people suffer, the things you do as a child for your parent, and to learn about different diseases and treatments. This past year has been a wild ride with tears at the end.

This past week I've had lots of time to reflect and to go back in time in my head and reminise.  There was a lot of pain, and hurt growing up, and sadly a lot of it revolved around my Dad. My Dad and I didn't have a very good relationship growing up.  To say that he didn't know how to talk to a daughter would be an understatement. Sports were the only thing that we truly had in common. I started playing softball, and I was good at it, and he always made sure I had the best equipment money could buy.  I know he was a walking ball of joy when I was playing ball, he LOVED to brag to people about his daughters accomplishments. But once I got older, we lost that. We had nothing to really talk about. He would tell me I was too young to get married...too young to have children, blah blah blah. But little did he know who would be taking care of him.

4 years ago I was pregnant, and my Dad was acting kinda loopy. He talked like he was on drugs and just overall not doing well.  I finally told him that I was going to go with him to his doctors appointments because I felt like he wasn't paying attention and just wasn't giving a crap about his health.  And I figured, he may be an asshole to me, but he's still my dad and I still love him.  So I took him to the doctors to find out that his O2 was at 75%......off to the ER we go.  From that point forward, I NEVER missed a doctors appointment for him.  He was in ICU for 2 weeks due to carbon dioxide being hoarded in his body which was making his blood gas levels sky rocket.  I think it was at that moment in his life he finally realized that he doesn't need to be an asshole anymore.  One day when it was just me and him in that ICU, he apologized to me through tears. I told him that was all I ever wanted to hear. Our relationship forever changed that day.

Flash forward.......June 13, 2013, Dad and I are sitting at his primary doctors office in a room waiting. That day forever changed his life and mine.....it's confirmed, he has cancer. I just remember the wave of fear and sadness that came about me. From that exact day I knew that I was in it for the long haul.  My dad didn't have a spouse, or a significant other, so I knew as a daughter I was going to be that +1 for him, and I was. I managed his calendar, his appointments and sat down with him after every doctor appointment to explain what was said and what tests were done so that he had a full understanding about his health.

Every 3 weeks starting july 1, 2013 I was with him for 7 hours while he underwent chemotherapy. It was Dad and Lyndsi time. We sat in recliners next to each other and caught up on the current sports nonsense and the silliness going on with the kiddos. We did this for 9 treatments. We were then told in april that the cancer had become more aggressive and that different actions needed to be taken. But for some reason, it took too long, and that's when I found him in a diabetic coma. His cancer was taking over. And from that point forward he would never be the same.

The last 2 months of his life I never left him, except for a week I left town. That was my Dad, and I was determined to there for him.  When he was in convalescent care for rehab, I told him "it's funny how the one person you treated so badly is the one taking care of you now". We both laughed, he grabbed my hand and told me how proud he was of me and how much he appreciates me and appreciates what ive done. Little did I know it would be my last true conversation with him.  When I had the meeting with all his doctors and they told me that there was nothing they could do for him except make him comfortable, I lost it. Here im just getting back this great person, we're finally having the father daughter relationship I always longed for, and now he's going to be taken from me. How is this fair??  When I got to his section of the ICU, I saw him laying there helpless with those mittens on his hands and I grabbed his face and he looked at me and I told him I loved him and with everything he could muster up he whispered "I love you too" to me and drifted back to sleep. I cried for hours after that, I saw my dad laying there and I just wanted to pick him up and coddle him and tell him everything was going to be alright, but it wasn't going to be alright.  He was going to die, when? we weren't sure.  When everything was disconnected and they moved him up to his room, I knew tonight was going to be it, and it pained me to leave.  Now I don't believe in God, or Jesus, or whatever. Im not really a spiritual person, but the night my dad passed my dad came to me in a dream. He looked at me with tears in his eyes like he was scared or confused on what to do.  I told him it was ok to go. That he didn't need to stick around in misery for us, that we all loved him so very much and that he was free to go. Within 20 minutes I got a phone call from the hospital that he had passed away. After that I felt so good in the fact that my dad came to me and asked me if it was ok to go, and that he felt confident in me and trusted me so much that he literally put his life in my hands.

I loved my dad. I loved him so much that my heart is going to hurt for quite some time.  At the same time I know he is in a much better place, and my heart and soul are full because I know that I did everything I possibly could for him as a daughter, that I supported him and was there for him every waking moment. My dad was difficult, but he was mine, and now I don't have him here anymore.

I love you dad, through the good times and the bad.  I love you for being there for my children, for coaching joey in basketball and for being at every baseball game and soccer game. I love you for being excited whenever I came over to just visit and to take you to your doctors appointments. May you find your paradise, and have a never ending smile on your face. I hope you are able to watch your grandchildren grow up and that you look over them and give them guidance.  I hope I've made you proud. I love you.

Richard Alan Wilder July 5, 1944- June 27, 2014 

Family...makes you scratch your head

Well its been what seems like a million years since I've posted a blog. There has obviously been a lot going on in my life, and with that has made me have an epiphany.

So as we all know by now, my dad has been in the hospital for 3 weeks. Its been one of the most stressful times of my life. Been going to see him twice a day everyday for 3 weeks. Having to put my life and my boys lives on hold while helping my dad make decisions regarding his health. I've had days of crying because I just don't know how to get everything done. Its been insane. But at the end of the day, its my dad. And right now he needs me.

If you don't know by now, I'm not a religious person. I personally find it hokey, and kind of ridiculous, but that's beside the point. My family I guess you could say is pretty religious. They do the whole church thing, bible study thing etc. Which is cool. To each their own. While I like to believe that "Christians" are supposed to be helpful to other people, regardless of religious belief, I kind of find them to be the opposite.

During these past 3 weeks, not one family member has offered to help. I got a few "I'll pray for you", but not one person asked how they could help. Not one person asked if I needed help with the kids, or offered to make a dinner knowing I've been at the hospital everyday till after 8pm. Why is that? Everyone preaches about how important family is, yet when it comes down to it, they really aren't. During this tough time I've had friends from high school whom i havent seen in years offer to watch my kids for a few hours, offer to bring food over knowing I haven't had time to cook, and even asked how I was doing after my car accident. But where was my family? The ones who are supposed to be your biggest supporters? No where to be found.

That my friends was my epiphany. Through this time I really found out who is truly there for you. So to my friends who have offered your time to help me and my little family, you are truly appreciated! Just know that if you ever need me for anything, I'm here for you. You guys are the best!

Birthdays...they come...and they go...

As we all know, I just had my birthday. My 32nd birthday. No big deal, just another day to me, except for all the happy birthday wishes and dinner and a few gifts.  Its funny how as children you count the days until your birthday because you look at it as your own personal holiday. Then again, I'm pretty sure there are still adults who still get overly excited for their birthdays, which is cool if you're into that sort of thing.

I have never had a hard time with birthdays. I guess it just know it's apart of life, it's going to come every year, so i might as well just go with it.  So this year wasn't any different. I always get asked where i want to go to dinner for my birthday and what i want as gifts. And every year i say gift cards and steak. LOL!!  But this year was slightly different, i went sushi. But not just that, I wanted a mellow birthday. I didn't want a lot of hullabaloo, i didn't want a lot of attention. And well with that, i guess it didn't settle well with some people.

For every 4 cards i got in the mail wishing me a happy joyous birthday, there always has to be 1 to kinda knock you down to size i suppose.  I can't say it ruined my birthday, because in all reality it didn't. My birthday still came, and i still did my normal birthday activities and still had a good time. And for that I'm thankful.

I'm thankful to my parents who always celebrate my birthdays, and always make sure i feel important on this day regardless of my age.  My brother, who watched the boys for me so i could get a LOOOOOOOOOOOOONG overdue pedicure, and not only that, cleaned the house! woot! And of course to my husband who always tells me that every year i keep getting better and better. I know i can always count on my other siblings to be there for me on my birthday, to help me devour cake and make me laugh until my sides hurt. These people, these handful of people mean so much to me and for that I'm so lucky to be able to call them FAMILY. They're always there for all my accomplishments, and there for me when i have my downfalls. They support me through thick and thin, and of course are the best good looking people on the planet, besides me of course!

So with that being said, i must say that this was one of the best birthdays I've had in a very long time. So to Patrick,Mom, Philly, Dad, Brett, Sheri, Kim, Poop, and April......you guys rock!!! So ONWARD TO 33!!!!!

He'll ALWAYS be my baby.....right???

It's amazing how fast time flies. Your parents always tell you to treasure the time you have because it goes by so quickly. I never realized these words to be true until i had children.  The past couple weeks have had death, birth of new babies, and celebrated birthdays, and with that it made me go back and look at the past; to look at my babies, well when they were babies and just reminisce.

I remember it all like it was just yesterday. It was January 23rd, 2003. My due date. I went in for my 40 week check up and they did an ultrasound to find that i had a slow leak, and admitted me into the hospital to start the pitocin. 12 hours of labor, 20 minutes of pushing and at 12:35am January 24, 2003 out came this 6lb 11oz black haired little boy. My life forever changed. FOR THE BETTER.

I was obsessed with taking his picture, because to me he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. My mom always told me "lyndsi you keep kissing his face like that you're going to kiss his face right off". but i didn't care, i was going to forever kiss him.

My little man is 11 now, he's almost as tall as me, wears the same size shoe as me and prefers to use Axe body wash and shampoo. He's in his 7th year of baseball and just turned in his registration for middle school. To be honest, I cried when i filled it out. Where is my baby? Where did he go? What happened to laying on the floor and playing with Tupperware, and finger painting, and being paranoid you were going to fall going up the stairs? *sigh* why do those things need to stop? Why must you grow up? I know its selfish to want to keep him little, but all moms wish the same thing.

My boy is almost a teenager. Just saying "teenager" makes me quiver. I hate it. Teenagers are assholes, i know, i used to be one. Will my Joey no longer hug me? Will he want me to drop him off down the street? Are his friends going to become more important than his mother? Answer....yes. It's something I've known since he was born, but never wanted it to come. I live today for the moments when he gives me a kiss before bed, or comes up to me and hugs me for no reason, and that very rare moment when the word "mommy" slips from his lips. He's growing up, and he is forever going to be that beautiful bouncing baby boy to me. Perfect in every way.

So when your mom tells you to treasure every moment, do it. Take millions of pictures because you'll never be able to get those moments back, and one day you're going to be like me and sit down and go through memory lane and smile because you know that this far, you've done a pretty good job.

Family time = Reflection time

So as you can see we just spent the weekend in Arizona for Dodger spring training. It was an amazing adventure, even with the fiasco that started the whole trip! I look back at this past weekend and it really makes me reflect on life and family as a whole. I'll get to that in a bit.

So about the weekend. It was a blast! Getting to see the players up close and in your face, Tommy Lasorda cruising by on a golf cart, and even meeting a players wife at a random Starbucks (Red Patterson's wife). I've never seen so much excitement radiate off a person until i saw Joey get his first ball signed by a player. You would have thought that he just won the lottery. Some of the players were jerks, and refused to sign stuff, and some just stuck to one side of the line and skipped over joey, but that's OK. We took this trip as a learning experience and know EXACTLY what to do next year to make it more beneficial for us.  Our hotel was Posh!! 5 star resort and spa in Scottsdale, which it better be since we had a huge issue with our hotel to begin with.

We drove around to different areas of Arizona that were of some interest to us. I must say i enjoyed Tempe. Seeing ASU was incredible. Such a pretty place. And then we cruised through Mesa, Gilbert and Chandler. All very nice areas.

The games were awesome! The Fields were incredible and the people were pretty great. We sat 5 rows from the field, and i could almost squeeze Ethiers tush!! It was neat because you could tell that with spring training they knew it was time for practice, but they also would be out in center field before the games shooting the shit with the other teams players. It was a great experience and i can't wait until next year.

So on to the other part of this ride.....family

My family is quite....well....different i guess you could say. It's a big family. But my immediate family (my parents, brothers and sisters) are pretty awesome. This weekend brought me an abundance of emotions, happiness, jealousy, elation and exhaustion.

Not a whole lot of people get to spend time with their families like i do. I'm lucky that my parents have lived in the same city for their entire lives, and therefore, so have I. There have only been a handful of sports games that they've missed in the 7 years joey has been playing sports. It's pretty incredible if you ask me.

So with this weekend brought a bunch of reflection time about family. As I'm sitting at the pool watching my little brother with my kids it genuinely warms my heart and at the same time gives me a little ping of jealousy. My aunts and uncles didn't do those things with me when i was little, and still don't now that I'm an adult. I don't get invited to the movies, dinner, or happy hour. Just when it's someones birthday is when you hear from them. Oh well. But i look at my kids and I'm so thankful that they won't have to have those feelings. They have an uncle who wrestles on the floor with them, who does puzzles with them, helps with homework and even takes them to the movies. An uncle that doesn't miss a sporting event or school play. My kids are so very lucky to have an uncle like that. He's not just "Uncle", he's the "FUN-cle".

Then it gets me into my mom. My mom is an amazing person. She would give you the shirt off her back in a second if you said you needed it. And this past weekend proved me right once again. She's not only an amazing mom, but an even more amazing grandma. Watching her with my 2 boys makes me smile. Seeing my boys get so excited to see grandma, to want to run up and give her hugs and kisses is the best sight for these eyes.  She had a great role model for grandparents and i know she strives to be like them, and i must say, she's right on par. I can only hope that when i eventually become a grandma I'm half the grandma is she. Again my kids are so incredibly lucky.

So i guess you could say that even though i myself don't have all that great of a relationship with my extended family, I'm so elated that my children have outstanding relationships with theirs. and I'm so glad that my parents and siblings are willing to put themselves aside for just a few moments to make these kids feel important. Life is too short to be consumed with yourself all the time. Believe it or not there are other people out there who are missing out on great memories and experiences because of your self consumption.

So thanks for being awesome! I  myself and my children appreciate it.

And again thanks so much for such an incredible weekend!!! So many great memories were had!

GO DODGER BLUE!!!

Not so fun when you're.....dun dun dun....GROUNDED!

It all started on Friday March 7th with parent teacher conferences. Turns out me trying to give my 11 year old some responsibilities and not harping on him about doing homework (meaning when i ask him if his homework is done, and he says "yes", i believe him and  not go rummaging through his backpack) was a TERRIBLE idea. New parents to 11 year olds, take my advice, BE NOSEY AND GO THROUGH THEIR BACKPACKS! According to his teacher he hasn't turned in any of his homework this quarter. *Sigh*. So all these months of him telling me he did his homework, he was lying to me. And as everyone in my family knows, I DO NOT TOLERATE LYING! Period!!

So that's how we got on the subject of this blog. I'm not going to talk about how my son is behind in school blah blah blah. I've known this since he was in kindergarten. What I'm going to talk about is the emotion toll on a parent is when you ground your kid.

This is my first time ever having to actually "ground" my kid. He's been in  trouble before where I've taken some of his things away and after a week or so he gets it back. This time is different. This time it's for the whole enchilada. Not only did i take away his TV, tablet and he's no longer allowed to watch TV in the living room, but he's stuck in his room ALLLLLLL day and night. I believe that 90% of parents think that they can handle their kid being grounded and that it's no big deal. For me it's been an emotional nightmare.  Hearing my son cry in his room for hours, apologizing profusely pulls at my heart strings.  I so badly just want to tell him he's done being grounded, but deep down i know I'm doing the right thing and that he has to learn.

Every kid at some age has been grounded, so i know mine isn't the first. I know he's going to learn from this and hopefully come out on top and be more of an honest kid. I just want to see him succeed and be proud of himself and know that he is capable of so many great things if he would just apply himself.

But man being grounded is harder on the parent then it is on the child. Remember that. Don't give in, and just know you are doing the right thing. Your child will thank you for it later in life when they are succeeding!

Weight....man is it heavy...

So I was having a conversation with a friend and the subject of weight came up. Ugh! Just the topic makes want to go into deep state of depression.  Weight has ALWAYS been a sore subject for me. It's something I have been struggling with my entire life. I know I'm not the only person who freaks out about their weight and hasn't gone to extreme measures to try to lose it, but I'm gonna be honest in this blog and put myself out there.

I really started noticing my weight being a problem when i was in 5th grade. I was a chubby girl with LOTS of freckles and a ridiculous perm.  I didn't really have an interest in boys, but that's when i started to notice "cliques" and how i wasn't really part of one. I was a tomboy who played sports and would prefer to wear jeans and a hoodie over skirts and form fitting shirts.  Deep down i really wanted to be apart of the "pretty girl" clique, where all the girls were pretty blondes and always wore cute outfits and were constantly surrounded by people who wanted to be them.  And that year was the year i started to obsess about my looks.

I never really got "teased" for my looks or weight until i was in 7th grade. I was already feeling like i was the fat person in school, but then there were 2 boys at my bus stop who would everyday tell me that i belonged in Seaworld's Shamu show.  From that day forward i hated myself. I hated the way i looked. I hated my freckles, I hated that i wore a bigger size then my friends, I hated that my friends were already starting to get boyfriends and there's "fat lyndsi" all by herself.....as usual. From that point forward i made sure i wore baggy sweatshirts, baggy jeans and my hair in a ponytail. I refused to wear any sort of bathing suit out in public (still don't), and i vowed to always remain covered because no one wants to see a fat person in a bathing suit, i mean ewwww gross!!

I have a mother who has always been very positive towards me and is always telling me that I'm beautiful, but as us kids know moms are supposed to say that about their kids. I remember as a kid going to my dads house and my dad making comments to me while i would walk through the living room saying "hey lynds why don't you stand next to the TV and see if your ass is as wide as the screen?" and then laugh. While i would laugh it off as a joke, little did people know what i was doing behind closed doors. That's when I started throwing up.

In my mind I was DETERMINED to be skinny. I didn't care what it took to be skinny. I wanted to be the girl that all the guys in world fantasized about. I wanted to be asked to be on covers of magazines, i wanted to be a supermodel. I used to make jokes when i got older that i should do do crack because it would make me skinny and people would tell me "yeah but then your teeth will fall out and you'll get pits in your face and die". And my retort was "yeah i can always pay to get my teeth fixed and get plastic surgery, and if i die, at least I'll die skinny, so make sure you bury me naked!" Apparently no one thought that was funny.

I did the throwing up bit from about age 12-16. I was hardcore into sports and so i was really busy with that, that i don't really think anyone noticed. I don't even think my primary doctor noticed when i would go in for my yearly physicals.  I would look at  myself in the mirror and just be full on disgusted with what i saw. Even after all those years of throwing up and doing heavy exercising with softball, in my mind i was FAT...F A T FAT!! I still didn't have a boyfriend, much less any guy even look in my general direction. I was the one who had to ask boys to dances. Talk about pathetic. BTW i finally got my first boyfriend at 17, and a year later he left for marine corp boot camp.

After I graduated high school i went to work full time. I was planning my wedding and as usual obsessing about my weight and that i can't be fat for my wedding, because what will people think if a giant cow of a 19 year old walked down the aisle?  That's when i discovered Phentramine. To be honest, that shit was AMAZING! It killed my appetite to where i would at the most eat 1 meal a day, it was a lifesaver! I remember being so excited because i had lost a bunch of weight and was able to fit into my mom's Victoria secret size 8 jeans, but was really sad and upset that my wedding dress was a size 10. I cried for days and days because i felt like i worked so hard to not eat and yet my wedding dress was the size of a whale, talk about a punch to the gut. I wore the dress and went about my wedding day and my life.

Here I am at age 31, had 2 babies and my obsession with my weight rides on.  I've tried every diet known to man, Ive starved myself, worked out for hours and hours so on a so forth. I know that i should except myself for what i am and who i am, but being another "obese American statistic" it's hard.  I see these women on the covers of sports Illustrated swimsuit edition and i want to curl up in a ball and cry. Why can't i be like that? Why can't i for once have a flat stomach? Or an ass you can bounce a quarter off of?? Instead Ive been given jiggles and jelly, stretch marks and acne.  I've even gone so far as to consult doctors about surgery, and guess what?? I don't qualify through my insurance. You know why? Because I'm a "healthy" fat person. Even though my BMI reads me as being "morbidly obese", my blood work tells me that I'm as healthy as an ox. Sucks to be me.

I know that I will forever struggle with this subject, and deep down i don't think I'll ever really be able to come to terms with ME. Some days I'm ok with the way i look, and there are others where i wanna just lock myself in my room and never come out. Maybe one day I'll be able to afford the surgeries i want and maybe then i can be satisfied with what i see in the mirror, but until then i will continue on with my struggles.

The kids....they look like me....right??

So since our youngest Alex has been born my husband and I have had this on going "debate" for lack of better words. His whole entire family seems to think that there is NOT one single thing on that child that resembles me. Where as i look at this kid and i feel like I'm looking at me. Where as I feel like this boy has Marshall written all over him, his family seems to think it's all Bledsoe/Bashaw.

While normally this isn't a big deal for most people, it kinda is for me. Call me super sensitive, or petty or whatever, but i carried this child for 9 months and you mean to tell me that there isn't ONE SINGLE THING that is me on him??  It gets a little old when all you hear from people is "omg it's Patrick's twin." "Look at those Bledsoe eyes". "He smiles just like a Bledsoe". "His personality is definitely from the Bledsoes". It can be a little disheartening hearing that pretty much this child isn't yours, you just housed him.

Like i said, i know this may be petty, but it's how i feel. And while i love this kid more than life itself, and deep down i KNOW he's me. If anything, he has my awesome sass!!

So if these pictures aren't proof enough that this little adorable little human doesn't look like his wonderful, amazing mom then i don't know what  else to tell you.

GO BLEDSOE'S!!!!

But....How do you do it???

March 1, 2014 

  

So as you all may know my husband is a firefighter for the DOD. And if you don't know, well, now you do. His job means that he gets the opportunity to work for the military in different countries around the world. To say that im jealous would just be an understatement. He's been just about everywhere, from Iraq to the middle of the south pacific on a island called Kwajalein, to Africa where he is currently. So this leads to the reason why I'm blogging right now. We've been married almost 5 years and in our 5 years of marriage he has always worked overseas, it's nothing new to me or us. So with that being said, im going to answer the questions that i get asked on a regular basis in the most upfront honest way. So here we go.....

"How the heck does your marriage work with him being gone all the time?"

It's quite simple actually. It's called "Communication". And to be honest, i bet our communication skills are probably better then the marriages of people who are around each other 24/7.  There isn't one thing that the other half doesn't know, whether it be where the other person is, to what they had to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And THAT is how our marriage works!

"Isn't it hard raising the kids alone?"

Honestly?? It's got it's frustrating moments. There are days where i wish he was here, just so i can shower alone and even poop alone. But is it hard? No. There are women who raise their kids alone everyday, I'm not any different. And I'm not going to act like a martyr.

"Why doesn't he get a job in the states?"

Why should he? A lot of people ask this because they think that it's lonely and not healthy to have a distant marriage or whatever, when in fact this situation works perfectly for us. He not only makes great money, but he enjoys what he does. And who am i to not let him do what he loves? As a wife, i feel it's part of my job to make sure he is happy, and if he is happy working with the troops in another country then by golly who am i to take that away from him.

Our marriage may not be perfect, but it's perfect for us. We Skype on the daily, and talk on the phone sometimes 3 times a day. We miss each other like something fierce when he's gone, but we both know it's part of our routine. Both our kids know what dad does, and why he does what he does. I've had LONG conversations with Joey about his Dad, and I've never in my life seen a boy light up so bright  whenever he talks about what his dad does to other people. We are so proud of Patrick and what he does and us Bledsoe's support him in every way possible. You know why?? BECAUSE WE'RE AWESOME!!

So I'm hoping i answered any questions, and gave some understanding. So until next time!