Welcome to the Doll house part 2 and new year's resolutions

I have no idea what my dollhouse has to do with New Year's Resolutions, but it brings me immense pleasure.  I am nowhere near done decorating it, as you can see.  I will never be "done" because it is so fun to decorate for holidays and such.  I am not a snob when it comes to the doll house world.  I carefully collected all the Madame Alexander dolls from McDonalds and put them in the house to live.  I also mix vintage pieces with homemade stuff and things from Hobby Lobby or my favorite resale store.  It's all good!  Where else can you find an all pink house with purple shutters?  Hubby did the renovations and painted the house.  I do need some lights in there and darn if the cats don't scratch on the roof so I have to hide it away in an unused bedroom.  Hubby painstakingly glued on tiny shingles and those cats!  They thought......thanks for the cool scratching post, Mom!

Anyway, it's 2012 and I should have some new year's resolutions, right?  All the other bloggers have them,  By the way, how the heck can these blog ladies have gorgeous homes with shabby chic, folded, laundried, home-cooked goodness all the time?  It's intimidating!   Right now, our dryer went out, so I am hanging every sock and undie all over the place.  The jeans come out crunchy.  There is underwear hanging from doorknobs.  We are still in recovery mode after hubby lost his job last year.  He did find work 5 months later, but it's very, very dangerous work.  That's another story.  My stay at home business was gangbusters in the summer into fall then I hit a wall in Nov. and Dec.  So, Martha Stewart, I can't punch fancy holes in stationary with your fancy hole puncher thingy.  Gotta get a dryer first.  

Commence resolutions.

1.  Put my health on the front burner.  The only reason I go to the doctor these days is to renew my prescriptions.  By the way, I have dumped the prescrip. I was on to help me "cope" with my mother's illness and death.  Those pills helped somewhat,, but the withdrawls are now brutal.  I'm determined to rid my body of this drug and possibly regain my eyesight and figure in the process.    I am haphazard with exercising, and my eating is heavy on chocolate..  I have stopped taking vitamins (a recent study said they did nothing unless you are iron deficient) and, this is painful, I have not been to the dentist in about 15 years.  

I know.  I do floss and brush like a maniac.  And I take my son, but for some reason, I don't think it's important to me.  Money is an issue, I cannot deny.  But, what good am I to the family if I am dead?  Or toothless?

2.  Put away at least 20% of money made or received.

3.  Enroll child in winter/spring activity.  He currently has no friends and likes computers, videogames and machines more than people.    That reminds me, if school continues to be a major social issue, I need to mull over diagnosis issue and possible new school in future.  

4.  Give more love to my husband.  I tend to retreat and feel resentful.  Nuff said.

5.  Donate or participate in Alzheimers Association/awareness.  I realize breast cancer is huge, but it's all I see on tv......no avon backed commercials for alzheimers. So, it's not cool to step forward with a relative who has alzheimers, celebrities?

6.  Cook more.  Engage child in cooking so maybe he will try something new off the beaten track.

7.  Pray.  Be good to others and to myself.  

8.  Laugh and don't beat myself up over the past.

9.  Stop eating popcorn for dinner.  For heavens sake!!!!

10.  Walk everyday.  Drink more vodka.  Cease clipping toenails.  Use morrocan oil instead of shampoo.  Replace showers with cologne spongebaths.  Steal. 

11.  Just kidding..

  I'd like to get a handle on this menopause, mid-life crisis, depressive wave that engulfs me every so often.  Perhaps giving in to it is best.  And like all things, it goes away, and good things return.  Like the waves on an ocean.

These are the Days of our Lives.

I was sounding a bit like a soap.  Seriously, if anyone reads this, I wish you a happy 2012 full of health, goodness, good thoughts, joy, peace, and love.   

Lee Fields - Honey Dove

Why in the world did it take me 50 years to find Lee Fields?  Soulfulness of another era.  All the forgotten artists.

It was a rape

A friend of mine was raped in the fall of 1980.  We were young, maybe 18 or 19 and decided to visit a mutual friend of ours at Northern Illinois University.  This friend lived in a dorm, and partied a lot, as we did at the time.  Only, I had gone to a community college and still lived at home and my friend, D, lived at home and worked.  We drove the hour to get there and sure enough, the parties started almost immediately.  PartyTime was constant  on college campuses...although usually mondays and tuesdays were considered school days.  We were ecstatic! Bring on the college dudes!

This was a weekend.  We started out in a dorm room and began playing drinking games.  It seemed innocent and fun and we all started drinking beer.  Lots of it.  So much of it that the night became, obviously, a blur.  Soon, all the dorm rooms were open and the party continued in all of them.  People came, people went and the entire floor of rooms was the party. 

My friend was flirting heavily with a guy.  This was a co-ed floor and the guys were plentiful.  We were delighted.  Loud rock music, we felt gorgeous after primping and dressing in tight jeans......it was a blast!  I hung out with the mutual friend, and spent time flirting and dancing.  And drinking more.

I became seperated from my friend.  At first, it was no big deal.  These things happen when you party and besides, how far could she have gone?  The party was confined to one floor of the dorm!  She would show up eventually, and she seemed to have hit it off with that cute guy.  She looked happy.  Maybe she found a future boyfriend!

Hours passed.  Hazy hours.  I drank a lot, but as usual, didn't find anyone I liked and was ready to end the night.  I began looking for my friend.  We started searching rooms and asking, drunkenly, if anyone had seen D?  No one had.

In my own drunken fog, I remember finding her.  She was in a room.  She was wearing man's clothes and hers were not there.  She was in his room.  She was hysterical; crying and screaming that she needed to call her sister to go home.  We tried to calm her, to find her clothes...The boy said she wanted to switch clothes.  That didn't make sense.  He seemed very calm and quiet.  Apathetic.  It was all so confusing.  I thought she liked him.  She was flirting, kissing him, and now this.

The next thing I remember, she was running blindly through fields, parking lots, running to where, I do not know.  I was running after her, trying to stop her.  I was in no shape to drive us home, but she wanted out of there.  She wanted to call her sister and go home.  We had no cell phones in those days, so I took her to a gas station to call her sister.  She was coming immediately to get her. 

For some reason, I decided to stay.  When her sister arrived, she asked what happened?  I said I did not know....I said D had said she was raped.  I said something I will always regret.  I said to her sister, that I wasn't sure if it was a rape. 

Those words came back to haunt me.  Our friendship ended after D found out I said that.  I was confused, but I should have taken her word that she was raped.  How could I have doubted my friend?  Rape doesn't always come in boogie man scenarios in the middle of the night.  This was a rape.  The term "date rape" didn't even exist at that time, but as a female, why did I not support her at that moment?  I beat myself up mercilessly after this, and tried to woo her back with stuffed animals placed at her doorstep, notes, flowers, but she would not speak to me.

The night after the rape, I went searching for this guy.  What the hell I could have done was beyond me.  I was still probably drunk, as we all were, but I found him, and asked him what he did to her?  He claimed she wanted it and wanted to change clothes, and that was it.  He seemed bored, not the least bit scared we would go to the police.  It was dawning on me that something horrific occured in that dorm room that night.

I was to find out later, she became pregnant from that rape, and had an abortion.  D and I rekindled our friendship briefly, years later.  I apologized profusely, and she accepted it.  I still never felt right about my reaction to this.  I felt it was a wedge between us, a horrible hurdle that I could never overcome in the friendship.  She went on to have a brief marriage and 2 boys very quickly after all this and then she divorced.  We lost touch, and have not seen each other since.

I don't know why she never pressed charges against that guy in the dorm.  Perhaps she knew it would be hard to prove all this in court........?Or, she didn't think anyone would support her or believe her.  She might be raped all over again in court.  As her friend at the time, I failed her.  Why would she expect to not be failed again by strangers?

It's over.  And I am the guilty one in all this.  Me and the rapist.

Temple of the Dog - Say Hello 2 Heaven

Say hello to heaven

I don't think of the lost 2 babies much anymore.  Most people don't think of them as a bonifide death at all.  They weren't born; they died within my womb.  Once in a while though, I think of what could have happened, what would they be like, who would they have become.  Ahhhhh, miscarriages are a dime a dozen.  My tears are totally dry now. 

But every once in a while I remember that experience and it knocked me off my feet.  I was completely blindsided by a "blighted ovum" diagnosis, and alone in the exam room.  At nearly 40, I thought it was my only chance at pregnancy...I cried big cries.  I had to have surgery to remove the................leftover baby.  My body bled for months and my hormones were wicked.  I would cry all the time in the car.   Any song would set me off.  Life was dark.

Then I had a boy!  He is beautiful and funny.  He is complicated and kerfluffering.  I made that word up.  He is my son.  Life is good.

Got pregnant right away after having the boy.  Lost that one too.  My body was clearly not ready for a pregnancy so soon after childbirth, but we were eager, happy, and recognizing my advanced age, ready for a sibling for our boy. 

Not to be.  Yet this time I felt relieved physically.  I could not handle any more at that time.  Hubby was devastated this time.  I told him not to, but he set up a bedroom for the new baby.  God damnit.  A loss again, and it was never to happen again.

I am grateful to have this complicated, beautiful little boy. 

But once in a great while, I think of the 2 little ones  that lay in the midst.  We really wanted a sibling for our little man.  But hey, some people cannot have children at all.  We looked into adoption and couldn't afford it.  Can you imagine?  Human lives cost a lot.

And so, you suspend the little ones again.  Put them away in a little box and close the lid.  Move on.  And wonder.  Yea, in my quiet moments, I wonder about them.




                                                             New like a baby
                                                              An' lost like a prayer
                                                                The sky was your playground
                                                                   But the cold ground was your bed



                                                             Say hello to heaven
                                                              heaven, heaven
                                                               Say hello to heaven
                                                               heaven, heaven................

                                                          

Merry merry Christmas!!

Thank you

A Christmas feast, indeed.  Crab legs, crab cakes, shrimp, tiny potatoes, old bay, lemons, and real butter.

And a glass of vino.

  Hubby wanted to take some down time after working  night shifts and fixing crains attached to box cars on the railroads.  The night before christmas break, he was stranded on a box car for an hour and a half at 4 a.m.   But that's another story for him to tell.

  Guess he just wanted  our favorite meal and.....just us.  The night before we celebrated with my family to great success.  Traditional turkey and trimmings and wonderful gifts abounded.  We exchanged gifts with his family a few days before christmas at his request.  His family is large, and a cast of thousands was not on his list of relaxing things to do.  We received so much from everyone this year.  I felt sheepish and low in a way.  But, I suppose family knew that we struggled with a lot of issues this year.  Least of them was unemployment and the threat of losing the house.

I mulled that one over so many times.....there are family members, but no where realistically to go.  Not with the pets......the child.........the vast array of things we possess now.....NO WHERE TO GO.

People remembered us this year, and for that I am grateful.  Homelessness is a terrifying prospect.  Not for me, but for our child.  I feel as though I could endure through anything.    But my child.......I cannot destroy his life.  My "business" has been null nov. and dec.  Oh, the guilt.  But, as hubby said, it was our turn to receive.

I think I enjoy giving more.  I feel so vulnerable and beholden to a degree, upon receiving great gifts. 

But I really need to just say thank you.  Thank you for having a home to raise our child in.  Thank you for my father.  Thank you my child is in regular school.  Thank you for our health.  Thank you for my sister's healthy outcome after colon resectioning surgery.  Thank you for the bountiful christmas feast.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.

If I am in a tizzy of anxiety in the morning because of petty problems, the two word mantra is there for me to take.

Thank you.

Death Penalty for pedophiles

I'm not going to use stats in this post.  I'm just writing from the heart since I'm the only one who reads this blog.  I strongly feel pedophiles who have enough strong evidence, particularly DNA evidence against them.....should be eliminated from this world.  After reading about Sandusky, hearing about someone here in Illinois who was repeatedly molested by a catholic priest, reading about the constant rapes of children......there is no answer but to eliminate the problem.

Kill them.

I have worked with children my whole life and I am a parent of an 8 year old boy.  I would feel this way regardless of that, but I know if someone did anything to my boy......let's just say I would fear for them.  My husband would go berserk.  We would be maniacs.  The rage we would feel is huge.  I feel horror  for the victims now.  The unnamed victims out there who are suffering now at the hands of some hulking Sandusky-ish person.  The ultimate monster under the bed.  The evil ghost in the closet.  The boogeyman. 

I am talking about the type of pedophile who grooms children with gifts and trips and money.....then rapes them repeatedly over a number of years.  Usually the children are dumped after they reach puberty.  These guys, (and they usually are guys, rarely women) keep molesting over and over and over and over and over.....until they are caught and put in jail  or until they die. 

They don't stop the aberrant sexual behavior because they cannot.  If there is one absolute in life it is this:  Pedophiles will return to sexually abusing children repeatedly forever.  They do not rehabilitate.  They do not get "cured".    They do not stop.

I think we need to get medieval on their asses.  They need to be put to death.  Electrocution, gas chamber, beheading, firing squad....whatever.  They don't need to be put up in jail, have meals delivered to them, and have air to breathe.  They don't need short sentences, getting out of jail for good behavior, probation, psychiatrists, or counselors.

They need to die.

They murder the souls of children and let their bodies live.  Meanwhile, "survivors" are left to deal with the carnage that is their"life".  They frequently become alcoholics, drug addicts, promiscuous, depressed, and more often than not, suicidal.

If there is a God within our construct of thought and prayer, let pedophiles be put to death.

Long live the innocence of children.

God bless us everyone

Best Christmas cookies ever

I'm not the best food photographer.  That's obvious.   But these cookies are the best I have ever had (tied with chocolate chip cookies).  They are soooooo delicious you won't believe it and they are easy. 

Recipe:

Preheat oven to 325 degrees, mix 1 cup butter, 1/2 cup sugar, 1/2 tsp. salt,1 and 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract, 1/2 tsp. almond extract, 2 cups of flour.....Chill dough for an hour.  Form into balls, put thumbprint in and  fill with whatever filling you like.  I like cherry pie filling, but my son likes just plain.  I know the pic doesn't look that great, but believe me, they are divine.  Bake for 15 min or so until edges are light brown.  Cool, then sprinkle with powdered sugar.  Serve with hot chocolate.  They don't have any chocolate in them and I love them.  Unbelievable.  Merry Christmas!

Life tips from an older gal.

Tips from me:

1.  Eat chocolate for breakfast.

2. Put lots of chocolate, cream, hazelnut and whatever else in your morning coffee.No steak or potato chips.  Tastes too crunchy. Stir.

3.  Drink the whole pot.

4.  Commence being productive somehow.

5.  Walk.  It's good for you and easy and gets endorphins going.  I like walking my dog, Ginger.

6.  Watch a lot of tv.  Listen to a lot of music.

7.  Take anti-depressants like Effexor.  Hard as heroin to get off of, so might as well stay on!  (update:  as of Jan 2012, I've quit it.  Screw the pharmeceutical companies.  Screw the detox and screw the price of doctor visits, pills, etc.  not to mention my diminished eyesight and weight gain as a DIRECT result of this nonsense.  I'd rather be just me now, thank you very much.  Withdrawls suck right now but I'm determined to do it. )

8.  Drink  a bit when you can.  But not every night.  That's not cool.

9.  Don't chase dirt.  It always comes back in some form.  If it's really obnoxious, tidy up.  Otherwise, throw stuff in closets or under beds.

10.  Watch as much comedy as possible.  Even dumb stuff like Adam Sandler movies will cure what ails you.

11.  Use compound W on brown spots on face.  It gets rid of them.  No dermatologist.

12.  Use salt or sugar on face.  Exfoliates and is cheap.

13.  Pet animals a lot.  Lowers blood pressure. 

14.  Avoid hard drugs at all cost.  The illegal kind.

15.  Buy vintage.  It's "green" and totally cheap.  Also, chock full of designer labels.

16.  Garbage pick when possible.  Treasure troves are out there on the curb.  Wear disguise when schlumping crap into car so no one knows it's you.

17.  Sing and pretend you're  a good singer.  That doesn't last long.

18.  Bake.  It's fun and I usually get to eat it all.

19.  DO NOT DIET.  It kills your soul and kills your passion.

20.  If stuff breaks, who cares?  You can't take it to the afterlife when you're dead.

21.  Do a nice gesture for someone else.  Narcissism is necessary to a point, but giving to a sad person makes you feel good.  And it's spreading kindness.

22.  Get angry.  It beats the hell out of depression.  Plus it mobilizes you to actually DO something.

23.  Pray.  It can't hurt.  Just in case someone is listening.

24.  Play.  Eat. Sleep. Give. Love. Bathe. Work.  Pray.  Laugh.  Be.

25.  Don't feel guilty. Do your best, and let it go.

26.  Listen to others.  They can help you if you truly focus on what they are saying.  Be silent and the answers will come.          

27.  Vindictive thoughts are ok.  Just don't act on them.

28.  Act like a fool.  Being silly is very underrated.

29.  Buy American.  Or vintage.  Or salvation army.  China's vast resources won't get any bigger if you do that.

30.  Always wash your hands after shopping.  Germs abound on grocery carts and railings.  Just sayin.

31.  Give and donate.  Even if it's a little.  It is good and gives sunshine back into your soul.

32.  Respect your parents even if they are not perfect.  Nobody is.  So respect them.

33.  On the other hand, dump toxic people who treat you like shit.

34.  Smile at a stranger.  Someone did this to me down south and it literally cracked my consciousness...for the day.  It was so genuine.  It was odd.  But I liked it.  I smiled back.

35.  Don't follow all these tips.  I'm just an older gal who is having fun.

Rose Hill 3 - Coming Home - Easterly

She is gone and she was my friend.  Perhaps she is home now...?  Is her body sleeping and her soul alive?   Is she with her parents and beloved friends.....is Jesus there to greet her?  Is she once again smiling with the neighbor ladies?  Where is my friend?

  I'm not there with her.   I'm here. I can't speak about this anymore, but I have so much pain and grief and hollowness.It sits inside me always, waiting, to take me for a spin...I can write and pray for peace.  I don't indulge the despair, it captures me and I am descending .........seeking airspace.

Is it possible she is in another dimension, finally free of the physical and mental pain that bound her?   That's what everyone says. She has said her good  byes.  We left no words unsaid, but we left each other. Too much love now lies above me circling me like wings fluttering around my head.  I did not feel  my good bye to her.  Those were words I spoke to her, but I didn't mean it.  I was not ready to say good bye.

I see an old garland on a  christmas tree.I think of Tinsel. She would put those on the tree. I am cascaded into a sad place again.  No one uses garlands or tinsel anymore.. I decorate the tree early, and alone. I am longing.

I have to believe she is in a beautiful garden now. As natural as the sun rising, we are born and we die. But I feel left behind. There was too much love to just....be.....nothing now. How can love feel so terribly gutting....it's a wonder anyone tries to love at all. When the loss, is neverending. I miss this person who happened to be my mother. A friend. Confidant. Loyal, All encompassing. As powerful in death as in life.   I can put her in a rose garden. 

Still......

Her energy breathes in my blood daily. I almost wish it would vanish. Go away. Enough.  Enough.  Grief taunts me.  Please go.

I covet statues of angels now. I look at them and somehow their beauty pleases me.  Some are in my rose garden.  But it is November, and there are no roses.  Everything is bare.  The statues reside there.  It is getting colder.  . I hide the shameful grief from everyone, and it finds me. I want the pain to be taken  I cannot indulge this or encourage it.  I cannot hold it any longer.  Please, someone, put it in a christmas box and tie it with red ribbon to be put on a shelf.  It can reside there with pretty things.

 That is what I want for christmas.

Jen
Nov. 2011

Call the police

If a child is abused or hurt, shouldn't we all go to the police instead of trying to handle it "internally"?  Whether it be within a college campus, organization or the home, there is no resolution to abuse without the police.  No job, no image to the outside world is important if a child is being raped or hit.   I don't think campus police, adminstrative policies or internal protocol can ever protect a child like the police. 

Bush - Letting the Cables Sleep

I do like the dudes named Gavin, for some reason......  The 90's did have some solid music and this is one....

Happy Halloweeny

The boy really looked scary on Halloween!  Hubby and I both got to see him at the school Halloween parade.  The mask bothered him a bit, but he wore it for the parade as we asked.   He did pick the costume out, after all.  And it wasn't cheap. For trick or treating, we said he could take it off.  For a boy who requests all tags be removed from all shirts, he did great.  And, he found a friend to trick or treat with as I trolled along behind them.  The small smile on his face and the "hey guys, wait for me!" as he was running along, warmed my heart.  We LOOOOVE this child. Forever and ever and ever and ever.

I am shameless

There comes a time in a woman's life when she just has to OWN who she is.  And be shameless about it. 

That time is now for me.

The larger than life rump, the oversized thighs, the double chins, it's all good and should not be hid under a bag any longer!  I will make efforts to retreat hubby's big shirts to the back of the closet and let my backside shine like the sun! 

Can I actually do it?

God, I hope so.  Hiding is becoming exhausting.  There are only so many long shirts I can wear!  We women of a certain age have the emancipation of not caring anymore about what other people think, say, or feel.  One of the luxuries of not attracting the young man's eye anymore is NOT CARING and there is a freedom to that.

But.............I still look at the young men.  I still search for their eye to seek mine.  Innocent and reflexive, I've been doing this unconsciously for my entire life.  I enjoyed it and revelled in the approving eye.  What am I saying?  Do I need this anymore?  I'm a happily married woman with an 8 year old son.  What do I care if some handsome slacker 24 year old looks past me anymore???

I do still care.

I don't want to turn back the clock though.    Don't get me wrong. My twenties were so turbulent and dramatic with the men.  Drunken fights that turned ugly, cheating men, my own ambivalence and yes, cheating, and looking, looking, for the next cool guy.....not a lot of fun.  Dates were horribly stressful and depressing when the next day there was no call while I waited.  Or worse, they liked me, and they were the uuber dork.  Always the king of all dorks who became obsessed with me.  And the hangovers!  Oy vey!

I guess if I was to be honest I would say I liked my looks better back then.  Woo, what?  You're kidding!    I remember a short story by Dorothy Parker called "Big Blonde" that I read in college.  How I feared I would become  her, sitting on some bar stool, staring into my vodka tonic and trying to catch any man's fancy while avoiding my mirror reflection.....a woman of a certain age, like 40's or 50's perhaps.  A woman who became lost and lost her youth, thus losing her shot at love.  A sad woman.  I feared I already was her and the story was somehow based on me.

But, I am not her.  I fought to stay away from the lure of her.  The lure of the easy drunk night and the chaotic divorce and the fucked up kid.  I did not want to be like Big Blonde.  I kinda look like her, but I am no drinker  anymore.  The actual process of getting drunk is so single focused.  All other responsibilities fade as the drunkeness  rages forward.  I have Irish descent, norweigan descent and german......the irish is the side of the alcohol problems.  I have billions of focuses in the course of the day. Not one thought, one single focus, on getting drunk.    I drink water, coffee, tea, hot chocolate, and an occasional glass of wine at a restaurant.    The luxury of the addict, is that is all the goal is.To Be  Drunk.

I won't be crying in my beer as an old woman.  I won't be barfing the next morning and asking, "what did I do?  Did I do something stupid?"  when the inevitable blackout surfaces.I stopped boozing when I was 36 years old.  I'd really be something to see if I had kept drinking.  Ay caramba.

I've got more important things to do.    It does suck when the looks fade, but hell, I was never a raving beauty; just considered cute.  And there is so much more in life.  Marriage and all that it entails.  My son who is so achingly beautiful and who could care less.  Human suffering and hunger.  Homelessness.  Sprit life if I'm  inclined to believe it.  Animals.  Life force.  Work.  Respect.  Shamelessness. 

True to form, I cannot get away from this image I have to live in each day.  It is there and it is reflected back at me from all shiny surfaces. 

It is not me.

I am inside here, trying to come out gracefully from my hidden room.  Time to own all parts of me, even the mental fricks and fracks that are not so positive.The deficits in character that I would torture myself over.

   For what is a soul unless it receives self love and  self nurturance? Oh yea, and  I can still admire handsomeness too.  I probably will until the day I die.

My Christmas request

Well, I don't think this is entirely out of the ball park for a christmas request from Hubby.  I think I deserve it and it would look good on me.  Every girl should have a little sparkle in her day.

For Andy

Haven and Home: A New Piece of Art

Haven and Home: A New Piece of Art

Third grade is becoming challenging

Third grade is becoming challenging for the boy.  Not only is the academic part becoming more difficult and frustrating, but the social interactions are tough, as I feared.  He said yesterday that some kids were yelling at him because he bumped into the bey blades they were playing with.  I never got a straight answer from him what exactly happened, but he begged, pleaded and begged again to stay home from school.  The look of fear and terror on his face broke my heart.  I explained we cannot keep him home everytime he is upset about something.  That mom and dad would get in trouble for breaking the law, and that he needs to face this challenge, climb this mountain , go to the next level, (insert cliche here) to come out stronger and be able to deal with people.

I know he has no friends.  He used to, but now, things have changed for some reason.  He considers his home to be his "safe house".  His inner circle is getting so small.  I realize hubby and my culpability in this.  I have friends......but they don't live near me. I have passed this on to my child.  Hubby has passed this on  too...the fact that he considers friends to be superfluous and non essential.

But I have opened so many doors for him!  He is in soccer, mainstream school, has gone to camp, karate, sports classes, birthday parties, many playdates and open gyms.....at what point is it all my fault? 

I told him to try to pick an ally at school.  Just one.  It is still early in the school year so he has time to find that friend.  Someone to trust outside of this house.  I dearly hope and pray for that despite being a bad role model in terms of keeping friendships alive (as I have failed to do.)

So.............my part in all this is,   my former bff was a party girlfiend.  We boozed and met guys and had a lot of fun.  Enter marriage and respective sons.   The friendship fizzled in a big way.  When said bff was still up for the party, I got engaged and she was NOT happy.  She had lost her party girl buddy....me.  I wanted her to be happy for me but she was sad for herself.  It didn't help that she was married during the whole party scene years and my hubby to be (at the time) despised her for that.  Frankly, no one could understand why she would party to the degree that she did and cheat on her hubby claiming they were "seperated".  I wanted to transition into a more "real" friendship and we just couldn't.

Long story short.  That friendship meant something to me.  Then, her true colors came out.  Hubby said, "I told you so" and now her and I don't speak anymore.   I didn't want to be one of those 40 something women looking lonely, sad, and frankly old in a worn out bar.  She partied when she was married....why couldn't I, she thought?  She wanted to still travel and devote weekends to the girls, why couldn't I??  She and I clearly had different ideas of how to be a loyal partner in a relationship.  I think I could have still been loyal to the friendship had it transitioned into adulthood, quite frankly.

I believe to this day she is still searching for someone to replace her husband.

Oh boy, how did I get on this tangent....?

So, I don't have an entourage of friends.  My inner circle is small and so is the boy's.  I have a hunk of guilt about that, but the reality is, I am a complicated person who is not always easy to be friends with.  I yearn for a female friend being in a house of boys and losing my mom, but no one has seems available.   And, as a mom of an 8 year old with some specific needs, I don't think I am available much either these days.
So, I'll be patient with little man, and it will happen naturally.  Not everyone can have an army of friends and I'd rather have one good solid friend than a bunch of aquaintences.  I won't let him always hide in the "safe house" but winter is coming, and I know all 3 of us tend to do that. 

My boy, my son, will find his way.  I must lead him at times.  Other times, he must lead and show me what he wants in life. And I will teach him the difference between party friends and true blue friends.  And,   I cannot deny we are the best of friends.