Today you are ten.

It seems like such a big number.

Ten.

A whole decade.

Ten.

Double digits.

10.

You aren’t quite a man, but not quite a child.

Ten.

I never imagined ten years ago when I birthed you how different my world or the world in general would be.  I found out I was pregnant with you just days before September 11^th and so much has been changed because of that day. But so much more has been changed because you are in our lives.

In the ten years of your life we have lived in three states.  You turned every age from birth to eight in the state of Texas, the age of nine was spent in the state of California, and now ten comes to you in the state of Florida.

You wrote a story about yourself in which you said you were born on February 1, 2002; a cryless baby in Houston, Texas.  Well it was actually Katy, Texas but close enough. And as for cryless, well you hardly made a noise. You were always smiling and happy.

Always smiling.

Ten.

You are one of the brightest ten year olds I know, you are one of the brightest kids I know. Your wit and smarts and humor is what makes you so amazing and I hope that you never change. You have a charm about you that attracts everyone to you, even in a room full of 100 people.

I love you, dad loves you, your brother loves you, and your sister loves you.  And yes, yet again; you have won the heart of the four-legged family member in our house as you have become “Yogi’s boy”.

Happy Tenth Birthday, Alexander William James

February 1, 2002

February 1, 2012

Twenty-two years since we last spoke.

Twenty-two years since you left this world.

Twenty-two years without you.

I was ten years old.

I am now thirty-two years old.

Twenty-two years.

And it hasn’t gotten any easier.

And I wonder……

Are you proud of me?

Do you know how much I miss you?

Do you know how desperately I wish you knew my children?

Do you know that you were my best friend?

IN MEMORY OF VIVIEN M CHAPMAN NOVEMBER 3, 1912 TO JANUARY 31, 1990.

This was meant to be posted on the first of January but nothing ever happens when it is supposed to in my life. There is a reason I am known as a procrastinator. I’d say that is one thing I would like to change but I know honestly that it probably never will.

Alright, enough with the chit chat…

My resolutions for 2012:

1.  Blog More – this is one I say I am going to do all the time and then fall behind on it. This year I would honestly like to blog more and want to make an active effort to do so. I enjoy blogging even if I don’t do it that well.

2. Be better to myself – how I feel, the way I eat, how much I exercise, taking care of myself, making an effort in my apperience (nails, clothes, hair).

3. Priorities - Get my priorities in order: God, Family, Myself, my friends, etc.

4. Give Back More – Volunteering, donating

5. Make new friends and reconnect with old ones -

6. Take a family trip/vacation – A trip with Richard, the kids and myself to Hawaii? NY? Texas? California?

7. Put myself on a budget and STICK TO IT!!! – Set a weekly/monthly budget for myself to stick to, invest more and prepare for the future.

8. Be more organized and efficient – in my life, at work, at home

9. Date Night – make regular “Date Nights” with my hubby and my girls, even if only once a month.

“Angels We Have Heard On High” – 1862 – a French traditional carol “Les Anges dans nos Campagnes“

“Away in a Manger” – 1885 – first two stanzas attributed to unknown auther with the third stanza written by John McFarland in 1904

“Do You Hear What I Hear?” – 1962 – written by Noel Regney and Gloria Shayne

“Joy to the World” – words by Isaac Watts based on Psalm 98; music arranged by Lowell Mason based on themes in Handel’s Messiah

“Noel nouvelet” – French Carol – 15th century – translated into English as “Sing We Now of Christmas“

“O Holy Night” – words by Placide Cappeau de Rouquemaure, translated by John Sullivan Dwight, music arranged by Adolphe Adam

“Silent Night” – “Stille Nacht! heilige Nacht!” – written by Franz Xaver Gruber and Josef Mohr, English translation by John Freeman Young

“We Three Kings of Orient Are” – 1863 – written by Rev. John Henry Hopkins – strictly an Ephiphany carol

1.  Bath & Body Works Scents:

Country Chic        Japanese Cherry Blossom           Paris Amour

2.  These Boots:

Women’s Merona® Kamischel Suede Lug Sole Boots – Grey

3.   This Camera, because who doesn’t want instant business card sized photos:

4.  A Charlie Brown Christmas Tree:

5.  This quilt, because it is Dolphin colors (GO PHINS!):

Actually that one should probably say anything Dolphins.

6.  Anything from here http://www.destinationdinners.com/:

7.  A trunk organizer (similar to this one):

8.  This USB drive:

9. This K and J stackable rings:

10.  These, because do you really need to ask?:

11. These bandages:

12.  Purse Hanger/Mirror (any one of these):

Item 2 is from Target, Items 4,8, 10 & 11 are from Urban Outfitters, Items 5, 7, & 12 are from Red Envelope and Item 1 is from Bath and Body Works.

Item 3 I found by googling cameras on the Fuji site.

Item 6 can be found on the website Destination Dinners, which is actually a pretty cool.

I know this is supposed to be wordless, but I wanted to tell his story. Yogi was found wandering the streets. He was picked up by a kill shelter and had been moved to the kill side of the shelter after not being claimed in their allotted time frame. The Pug Rescue was contacted about him and we adopted him from them. All this happened in about 8 weeks time. They have no idea how long he was on the streets but he is in good health and is an excellent dog.

In case you don’t know, I am a big lover of the Pug breed.

So without further ado, meet Yogi!

All pictures courtesy of my lovely niece Jennifer LaRue McBroom

I hadn’t opened my reader in I don’t know how long.  Probably not since the last time I blogged while I was still living in California, and well that post wasn’t exactly one of my finer moments in life.

“You have to take responsibility”

“You have to own your words”

“You have to own your feelings”

“You have to learn to blame yourself, redeem yourself and forgive yourself for the things you have done/said/wrote/blogged/texted/etc. whatever they may be”

People don’t really understand how hard that is to do, especially when depression is playing a role; not unless they have been down that road.

The blame, hate, rage, misunderstanding, sadness, emptiness, loneliness, anger. It is misappropriated, flung on to people when it is really yourself you feel all of those things about. Flung on to people you love and care about and then it just batters them down until they can’t take the beating anymore. Why? Because it is easier to blame then to take responsibility.

Back to the reader….

I open the reader and see a gazillion blog posts that need to be read. We are talking haven’t looked at this thing in over a year’s time. I have now limited myself to the few that I actually care to read.  I took my reader from 126 blogs down to 18.  I lately have been more of a lurker than anything else, there are times I intend to comment and don’t.  Why? Fear perhaps. Maybe because I feel what I have to say makes no difference. Because I don’t want to be just another “comment on the page”.  I am not sure why I don’t comment when I want to….ok it is fear.

As I was weeding down my reader, I was going back to blogs and reading missed posts.  Going back sometimes as much as a year because I haven’t read the blog in that long. Laughing at things, smiling about others. Crying over some. Amazed by how a lot of these bloggers write.  Jealous because I don’t write as well or keep up with my blog like I want to. Envious, even.

But when you read back through old blog posts, you sometimes come across things you don’t want. Stories of death, bad days, hurt feelings. Stories that make you, yourself face truth. Posts that hurt because you know they are directed at you even though your name is not used.

And tonight that has opened up a whole new set of feelings for me.  A part of me I thought I had put behind me. Feelings that I thought I had gotten past. Hurt that not only emotionally hurts but physically hurts as well. Loss. Feeling broken again. Broken, a word I said I would not use about myself again…yet as I write this I feel so broken.

I don’t know how to fix what did or didn’t happen. What has or hasn’t happened. I don’t know how to fill in gaps and holes that are so large they swallow me whole.

I want to reach out. I have tried to reach out at first, not as much as I should….not so much anymore.  And that pains me because I want to. I feel I should. But I don’t know what good it will do. And when I do and there is no response, complete ignorance of the attempt it just hurts. And then the broken comes back.

I miss what was there, more than I can ever explain. More than I knew I would.

And the hardest part of it all?  I did this.  This was all me. I caused the hurt, I caused the pain, I caused the confusion, the mistrust. Now I have to learn to live with it.

Yes, I have an illness and it has taken me some time to truly understand that illness and control it not let it control me.  There are still times that I can feel it taking hold and sometimes I wonder if it would just be easier to let it take over. I use to say I didn’t want to be defined by it, yet I used it as an excuse every chance I got. I hid behind it like a coward. I used it to excuse actions, behavior and words of mine that I didn’t want to take responsibility or acceptance for myself. I allowed it to be an excuse and I allowed it to control me. That was me, not the illness.

I don’t know if I can ever truly apologize for what happened.  What I do know is it was my fault, and mine alone.  I said those things, I behaved that way, I made the choices, they were my actions; with or without the illness, all of it was me because I allowed it to happen.

I truly am sorry, after all this time has passed I still am not able to forgive myself fully because I damaged something that was so special. Now I have to live with that. I don’t expect to ever be forgiven because I can’t even forgive myself for that, at least not yet. I miss you.