If I had six months to live...

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, I am now a full time college student and have a part time job as well as a full time mom and often dad, so my dance card has been over filled.

Below you will find my response to an assignment given by my psych professor, entitled "What would you do if you knew you had six months to live". I rehearsed my response then just wrote from the heart. I have to say this was a very difficult question to answer. Do you think you can?

Here goes:

What would I do if I knew I had only six months to live? I find it very difficult to answer this question. In my head I have rehearsed several different version of the answer, yet each time I feel as if I have left something out. I have to wonder, even now, can one truly answer this question? Will we be able to fill in all the blanks, or at least become satisfied before we meet our demise? In my humble opinion I would say no.
I turned forty last year, recently I turned forty-one. I have to admit in this time I have had some great mental discussions with myself about my mortality. I am no spring chicken, more of a late summer one, and I am feeling the effects of growing older. My knees do not spring up from a crouch any more nor can I get through the night without having to pee at least once. I know I am now in the "middle", meaning I am part of the middle generation as my grandparents are gone, my parents are still alive but showing the effects of sixty and seventy plus years of living. I have children old enough to have children, and one already does. I am still someone's child while also being a mother and a grandmother.
If I were to be given final notice, I would probably cry for a day or two. Then I would get up, brush myself off, and love the heck out of everyone within my reach. I would make sure my spouse-elect and children know what they mean to me, and what they have taught and given to me in their lifetime. I would make sure they had something of me, preferably my wisdom and my love to carry them through out their lives. I would tell my mother I forgive her, and my father too. I would look at the sky and the moon and the stars and the clouds and take deep breaths. I would host a drunken party night for myself and my estranged siblings. I would call my two ex-husbands and tell them I still love them and always will and thank them for the things they taught me, good and bad. I would make arrangements for my BFF (Best Feline Friend) Abbie to go with me. I would smile at elderly people and hug children. I would be all the things in that six months that I wanted to be in my forty-one years. I think I would sky dive, rappel (again) and spend a weekend on a beach with my human BFF and let her know that if I were gay I would pick her. I would call my lifelong friend and tell her that I am proud to have grown up with her and happy that I still have her in my life. I would strut my not so taut and firm arse proudly down a nude beach. I would scream at God and rail and pace, cursing his power and begging for forgiveness. I would make up my mind if I really believe in God. I have always considered myself more spiritual than religious.
I would not lament on the unfairness of my impending death nor make everyone sad by living like I was already dead. I would not hold back tears or fears or any honest emotions but I would not make everyone suffer with me. I will not, now, let a day go by without smiling at least twice and telling at least one person I love them.
I would, finally, forgive myself for not being a better wife, a better daughter, a better mother, a better sister and admit to myself that I am a wonderful person. Even when I'm not so wonderful.
While baring my soul in this missive, I have to admit that many things in our textbook have opened my eyes. I intended to pursue my degree to help others but have helped myself a great deal. It is really hard to ignore words when they are written in black and white and put before you. Chapter eight really did a job on my self-denial as well as my self awareness. In nine chapters I've healed so much. However, it is difficult to grow up, even in my forties.
Before I went I would advise those that are listening to love hard, learn as much as you can and teach a child what real love is. Money doesn't make you rich, seeing a stranger smile at you because you smiled at them is better than all the gold, chocolate and great sex in the universe. Hearing a child laugh is worth dying for. To use an over used passage that I have no idea who the author is: "Live every day like you are dying". Don't wait to feel or give or accept advice from a ninety year old lady in the line at the grocery store. Wisdom is learned and earned, so earn and learn, then pass it on.

If I can hear your dog barking, WHY CAN'T YOU?

Dogs bark, I know this. As a matter of fact, that's the reason why most of us have dogs. The dog alarm is a very effective warning tool. Yet, nuisance barking is just that, a tremendous nuisance.

I am a rather tolerant neighbor, if I may say so myself. When my neighbors' pit bulls broke through my fence and joined my dogs in destroying my back yard, I smiled and said "it's OK, it happens". Since then they've dug under the fence, assisted my dogs in breaking down my side gate and going on a spree run. Nothing like seeing two pit bulls, a boxer, and a German Sheppard running in a pack down the street. Thank goodness none of the four dogs have a clue what breed they are and are happy dumb dumbs. Things happen with kids, pets and intoxicated husbands on game day so you have to pick your neighborhood battles. Where my problem lies is with the middle of the night barking.

My dogs bark at night, no doubt. The thing is, I'm reactive. I don't let them bark endlessly. I will actually get up and check to see what they are barking about or at the very least knock on the window and say some choice words to them. I don't let it go on and on daylight nor dark. But the dogs behind my house, same ones as above, tend to bark for the fun of it. Last night I got up no less than four times to make sure it wasn't my fur-faces making the racket. Wake me up once and there is a chance that I can go back to sleep. More than that makes it impossible. So I spent the last several hours of darkness changing positions on my bed and cussing at the ceiling. Fact of the matter is that I didn't initially fall asleep until way past one a.m. only to be rudely awakened around four-thirty am. In essence, I'm cranky, grouchy and tired.

BUT....Why is it that I can hear them but the owners can't? Perhaps I should ask them their secret to sleep and borrow whatever they take. If it happened once in awhile I'd be fine but almost every night is ridiculous. I'm not into calling the police on dogs but....after a few restless nights that's starting to appeal to me. At what point should I stop being neighborly and get a little pushy? Further, I can't be the only person being kept up by the dogs noise as I have neighbors behind, beside and at the corner. Grrrrrrr.

Since it's daylight I think I may try to lay down for a few minutes. The dogs don't seem to bark during the day.

Dear Mom, Please excuse my absence......

It's been awhile since I've written and I have no real excuse. Writer's block perhaps? Life interruptus? I've written in my mind several times but sleeping on a piece of paper won't make it print.

I've recently gone back to school online. Trying to finish up that Psych degree. I've always had an interest in social work, as a stepping stone to forensic psychology, so I decided to knock out this last few classes. Like I don't have enough stress....Boy, the things we do to ourselves. Actually, I love to learn. If I were rich I'd go to school for my entire life taking pointless yet interesting classes. Nerd, perhaps? Perhaps.

I've also been mind-writing my book. I have a deep respect for the author Beverly Cleary and would love to be an author of her caliber. I enjoy writing and story telling but lack confidence. I know I can do it, but have already been rejected a few times which makes it difficult for me to jump back in the saddle. That whole rejection issue can mess you up. I also want to write teen books and a few animal books. (Not for the animals to read, of course, but from their points of view.) Have you ever watched your pet and wondered "what they are thinking"? I think that if more books were written that were "fun" yet snuck in real facts and realities then more children might read and learn at the same time.

I, personally, abhor reading because I have to but can devour an interesting novel or story in a day, time willing. I also enjoy true crime because it is engaging, (thus my psych degree, ya think?) although I am currently reading a true crime book by a popular writer that is far too descriptive, and, well, so boring that I may give up. Ya win some, ya lose some.

Anyhow, the premise of this missive is to hang my head in shame that I haven't been contributing to my blog. Please forgive me, as I am merely but human. (Blech!)

Today on Maury........

OMG to infinity!!! I admit with shame that in the several months I've been laid off from work that I've come to the point of watching Maury Povich (sp?) regularly. Todays subject is about teens that have sex with multiple partners and so on. Ugh. As the mother of an overdeveloped 15 year old girl and a rapidly developing 12 year old I have to say that, whew, thank God for my girls. The fifteen year old is boy crazy, at times girl crazy, as seems to be in-vogue these days. I have recently put an alarm system on my house for the people on the inside. Yet, after watching this show as well as listening to the tales of other mothers, I think I may still have some control. How much? Not sure, it tends to fluctuate. For how long? I don't know but am grateful for each day.

The 15 year old is fairly transparent and tends to tell on herself. The one that scares me is the 12 year old. She has three older sisters that have done it all. I've convinced myself that if I were to search her room I'd find several volumes of notes she'd taken on "How to break the rules and not get caught". One of the older girls keeps telling me to "keep your eye on that one". Hmmm. I hope after all the lessons they taught me that I know what to look for. However, this one may come to show that she will be the inventor of a few more tricks. Let us pray......