Wednesday, April 17, 2013


This is the post, were I get all crazy, and heavy on emotion. If you're not prepared for that, you might not want to read this.

I don't know what it is. I'm not a person that lives life, by the numbers. You know, I didn't care when I turned 21. Yes, my friends and I were in Las Vegas. But we were there to work. I was just happy to get my favorite mini wedding cake. :) So when I turned 30, just a few weeks literally came and went. No "BIG" excitement.

I got phone calls from family and friends. A ton of messages on FB, and Twitter. It was nice. But it was just another day for me. Maybe because my parents, never really made a big deal about birthdays, when I was growing up. Maybe because my Dad never remembered, it was my birthday. Or that there has been so many family issues going on, that I just didn't care.

But something has been missing. And I wasn't quick, to figure it out. Until yesterday. It got me thinking. 12 years ago, I thought I'd be married by 20. Done with school by 22. And would have a couple of kiddos running around my home, by 25. Yes, I've accomplished a lot. Received more than 1 degree. Debt free, I might add. I've paid off my home. And my car. But something has been missing...

Yesterday, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Maybe because I got to spend a few hours, with these cute twins. And honestly, all  my friends...and their kiddos. Maybe it's because, I'll be in a friend's wedding this weekend. As the "Maid of Honor." For the umpteenth time. Maybe it was my sweet Goddaughter's meltdown on Monday night.

I don't know. I can't pinpoint the exact reason. Just that something has been feeling "wrong" for a while. I mean, even 6 months ago, I wasn't this miserable. But now, I run from one crazy place to another. I'm taking care of a sick parent. Trying to juggle 100+ hours of work. School stuff. Writing for a magazine. And a newspaper. Endless paperwork for my parents. Running errands. Crazy traveling schedules. Really, I don't have much "down time." And I'm starting to get resentful, because of it.

Remember how I told you, that by 25 I thought I'd be married, a mommy, and well the "Keeper of the Home." But it hasn't happened. Honestly, I thought I'd be that mujer. That would get up early. Make her hubby breakfast, see him off to work. Spend my days breastfeeding, changing cloth diapers, doing said hubby's laundry, cooking meals, and digging in our garden.

I never thought it would be easy. Do you know my family? Nothing has ever been easy. I expected that there would be days, that I'd want to pull my hair out. That my beloved husband, would drive me nuts! And those babes that I'd birthed...I just knew, they'd test me in ways, that I'd never dreamt of.

But somewhere along the lines, I've sacrificed my life...for other people. I've put my dreams, on the back burner. I've buried myself in work. Because in those walls of the hospital, little can bother me. Little can hurt me. And I can control, most of what's going on.

You see, I can go to work, and forget about family crap. The siblings that make life...well a living hell. Not all of them are like that. But there are some, that just don't let me live. And in the hospital, I don't have to worry about them. I also don't have to worry about people, who try to keep me from my grandparents. Or aging parents, who I'm deathly afraid of losing.

Hurt and pain, can be minimized at work. You can hold yourself at arms length. You can get lost in hours of surgery. In complicated cases. In sick kiddos, who just want your help. You can quickly forget, that you are alone in this world. Maybe that's why so many of the doctors, don't mind these crazy schedules. Or the fact that we go to work at 5PM. And rarely leave before 5AM. That most days, we spend more time, in the hospital...then out of it. That we make more trips to work, in one day, than most people make in a week.

But then, in the quiet moments, you start to remember life. When you're holding an innocent and sick realize that's all you want. Is a baby. Even a sick baby, is better than no baby. A little person, that is part of you. When you see married couples, you realize, you want that. Even the ones who continuously argue. And might I add, about stupid things. Like the flavor of gum, the husband has just bought. You want, and crave, that company. That person to lean on, when times are tough.

I had this raw conversation with my good friend J, last night. We were making final travel plans for this weekend. When I'm the "Maid of Honor," and he's the "Best Man." Making sure I knew when and where to be. So I didn't miss the flight. We were finalizing the Bride and Groom's Honeymoon plans. Because this man is so incredibly sweet! He's paying for their Honeymoon!!!

It just got me thinking. And emotional. Having read this, just hours before...didn't help matters. Because it was everything, that I was feeling. And I caught myself, silently praying that same prayer. That J stays single for another 10 years...

You see, years and years ago, we agreed on something. Something silly. But something the two of us, have hung onto. Silently. Never talking to each other about it. Just hoping. That by the time I'm 40, if neither of us are married, or have kids...we'd have some babies together. Possibly get married.

I read this on Monday. When we were flying back from Dallas. And I kept asking myself, "What are you waiting for? He's the one! You've always known it!" The reality is, I think I've always known it. From that first instant, when we locked eyes. Those green eyes, they had me. That sweet smile, made me melt. Even in a crowd of people, as I performed, he grabbed my attention. But I've always been scared. Because what if it doesn't work? I'd be losing my best friend. What if he doesn't love me, as much as I love him? What if I got hurt?

All of those things, have allowed me, to stay at arms length. To keep J, just far enough away. But close enough, to lean on. Because let's be real, when times are tough, he's the one I run to. My friend is the should I cry on. All 6'4" of strong, muscular cowboy. With that crook'd smile. Sweet green eyes. Sandy colored hair. He's the man, that makes me feel safe. Like really safe.

He doesn't judge. Knows every stinking thing, about me. And loves me, for me. You know, he laughs at the silly stories. The stupid things I get myself into. He's proud of my accomplishments. And is ALWAYS there, when I need help.

No matter what it is. A shoulder to cry on. He's there. I swear to you, that little "nook," was made just for me. I don't know how many shirts of his, that I've ruined. Because the tears came way too fast. Or how many times I've called J, because I need some help with my tuition payments, buying a book for school, or I'm not ashamed to admit it. He's been there. He's come with boxes of food, when he's noticed I'm without. Not judging. Just brought it through my front door, loaded up my fridge, and gave me a hug. J even created a position in his company, so I'd have a job.

I often panic, to think he might realize how handsome he is. Or what a good catch he is. How all those women, are really looking at him. And what a catch, all of those women really are. You know, size 0, smokin' hot, great personality types. They practically scare Jesus out of me. But J, he's usually concerned with bulls, oil, chili, pecans, or something else like that.

Seriously, how many men do you know...that are happy to play princess with their Goddaughters? Or go out and buy every pink food and drink, so those same Goddaughters, can have a tea party. Or like Monday evening, run around town, looking for that doll...that was ruined. Not many. And let me tell you, nothing melts my heart more, than watching J with kids. When I walk into his home, and he and one of our Goddaughters are fast asleep. On the sofa. Big, muscular Cowboy J. Covered with a princess blanket, and a small girl nestled on his chest.

He's the same man I call, when that one light bulb burns out. Because I can never reach it. The one I call, to tell all about that tough surgery that I had. The one that last 2 hours longer, than I expected. And challenged me, in every possible way. I call him, when I'm especially worried about my Dad. And he always makes me feel better.

J is the man, that I can spot across a room. Or a field of chili. And immediately lock eyes with. Somehow, that connection, makes my heart sing. He's the man, that makes me feel safe. And happy. That in every sense of a man, is a gentleman. He makes you feel, like a woman. Treats me with respect. Is more in love with God, than even I am.

He listens to me. Gives me the best advise. Helps me. Encourages me. Challenges me. Makes me laugh, until I swear I can't breathe. He distracts me, from my troubles. But helps me work through them. J is that one person in my life, that knows what I'm thinking, before I think it.

10 years ago, I dreamt of being married. Barefoot and pregnant. I had big dreams. Dreams that meant a lot to me. I was ready for all of that. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Who would have thought, during those first few weeks of college, that I'd meet this man. The one, that continues to make me dream. And hope.

When I think I can't dream any bigger, he challenges me. Because J, he dreams HUGE!!! He works hard. And plays HARDER. He loves with every being of his body. And expects, the best out of everyone around him.

It's been a tough year. We're only 3 1/2 months in. And I'm spent. I'm worried. In some areas, I've given up. Like Valli, I don't NEED a man. Or babies. But I WANT them. I've sacrificed so much, to get to this point. I've taken care of everyone around me. Maybe I'm just ready, to let someone take care of me. Remind me, that life is going to be OK. That not every single day, needs to be on the "edge of disaster."

I sometimes think, that God is screaming at me. Telling me to stop being so stupid. To let love in. And learn to let go, of certain situations. To make people, more accountable for themselves. To quit caring so much.

It's crazy when you get to this point. I even without realizing it, told J something, that even shocked me. "I'd get married. Tomorrow. If I could go on that trip, have a pair of CL stilettos, and just be happy for a second. Really happy. You know what I mean?" I hope he didn't get the wrong idea.

Lastly, I'm pretty sure Dr. S' wife, "The Bride," was equally shocked. Yesterday morning. When in passing I told her, "I'd walk away from it all. This career. My home. My hometown. All of this. If I could find real love. Could make a real family, for myself. And can be happy. Even if, for just a second. I NEED that. I don't need all of this. I just want to be happy."

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