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September 2005 I can definitely say that looking back I never imagined that this would be my life. I am sick and tired of trying to look beyond all of this. What I want is NOW, not; when, then, sooner than later, just NOW!! My tears are no longer constant; they sneak in like a sporadic spasm in some long overused muscle. They leave just as quickly. My home is more a hovel than anything. One bedroom, two kids, three cats, one dog, and two adults make a tight fit. The bathroom is big enough to squeeze in a potty training toddler, the litter box and myself. The kitchen is smaller than a hallway. I could go on feeling sorry for myself, but I can not give any more emotion than I have already spent. The question begs "How do I change this!?" Recognizing that you are the master of your own ‘’fate’ is not always easy. When you reach that level of cognizance, you then have to accept blame. I cannot lay my seeds of iniquity upon the shoulders of another; I alone must make sense of it. Responsibility is a heavy weight dragging me beneath the waters of life, leaving me fighting and getting nowhere. I have struggled to the point of exhaustion and have been sucked under. Everything around me is this giant mess both figuratively and literally. Trash on the floors, dishes from the last 4 months, laundry from the last two years, dirt, dust, and grime taunt me. My toddler creates messes that she can’t begin to conceptualize cleaning up. After all, I don’t clean up mine. Then there is a glimmer, something on the horizon that makes me think I might actually get through this. Is it yet another false hope? How in this day and age can we be left with no options, slave’s to our own personal hell? Part ii August 2002 we rolled into town, ready to create a better life for ourselves. My husband Chris drove the rider truck, and I drove our pickup. Everything we owned was packed up between the two. We were returning to Albuquerque after a two-year respite in Baltimore. It took ten years too leave and two years to return. I digress. We came here to run a small picture frame shop. We came here to a boatload of promises. We came here [unknowingly] knocked up! The idea of a baby was exciting; this new life we were embarking on seemed eerily stable, -the illusion in the desert. The promises started unraveling rather quickly. Chris was soon working 6 day’s a week. My stint as a paid employee was very short lived. Health insurance lasted as long as the duration of my pregnancy then vaporized (much like my pay). We dreamed big, and got squashed like bugs. Emily was a sweet light in the midst of it all. She came to work with us, from outside looking in we were absolutely perfect. We worked harder and longer, hoping to fix the problems, hoping to regain our initial dreams. By the time we found out that we were again pregnant, those dreams were gone. The only thing to do was work through it, plod forward, and persevere. It didn’t work. We thought about ending the pregnancy, but that wasn’t really an option for us. I couldn’t believe that 11 years together, being so responsible that we had now gotten pregnant twice in a two-year period. Emily and Cal were, are lovely. They just make the pressure more absolute. I have been allotted to the world of the stay at home mom. I know it is where my kids need me to be, but I feel helpless. I watch my husband work himself to death day in and day out, and I can do nothing! NOTHING!! I am a horrible housekeeper, I’ll do anything and everything to avoid housework (including writing this). So poor Chris doesn’t even have a nice place to come home to. We live poor, we are poor. In no way does our life compare to someone living in the projects, or a broke down trailer, but it comes close. Don’t even get me started on the health insurance issue; suffice to say we make 2,000 too much a year to get more than family planning Medicaid. We could be seriously hurt and then who would parent our children? Our parents! [cringing here folks] sorry if this hurts their feelings, but we all have different ideals than our own parents do. Again I digress. I am writing this to help myself, to avoid that drink I crave, or something stronger. I am writing this so that I will know where I have been, and when I am finally out of this, maybe things won’t look so bad. Reading back over this I realize that I am having a giant pity party for myself. So this is my WHY! This is my reason to move our lives forward, stop complaining start doing. A lot of those old cliches really do hit home, -unfortunately. Could this be my Ah Ha moment?
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