So, I've avoided this post

as long as I can. I hate not being able to blog, I need to blog right now...
I guess my blog will make a major shift in direction, as the tattoo's and bikers have come to a halt in my life. For all the good that Trai was, there was a dark side to him, always was. There was a side that was wounded as a child by people and situations, a side to him that never thought he was good enough, that was beat down and tormented. And that side was a drinker. And lately, that side had come out in full force, the drinking becoming a daily thing, the hard liquor bringing out the worst in his temper, his mean spirited self, the self full of pain and agony, that caused him to lash out at others. His words had become knives that tore at my soul, until I had reached my breaking point. Even as I made my last ditch effort at standing by him, he was drunk on tequila and came unglued. Bad words turned to me trying to get my keys from him, which went from bad to worse. Police were involved and he was taken to jail, which broke my heart, but I knew it was what needed to be done.
People have chosen sides, including his best friend of ten years, who has chosen my side. Who, like me, sees that Trai needs help we cannot give him. So tough love it is. Trai and I may never speak again, he may not learn anything from this, he may never admit he has a problem. Or maybe, just maybe the reality of the situation will sober him up.
The main point of this post however is, thanks to addiciton, thanks to alcohol, I have as of now, lost the man that once was the love of my life. And my heart is breaking. We had many a good times, and he taught me so much, but I couldn't pull it out and love him well. I tried to do him like the kids, and love him til he wanted to do right, to kiss the pain away, but I was up against way more than I expected.
I don't hate him for what he did, I can't do that. I know in my heart that he, the well Trai that I fell in love with, would not have done the things he did, said the things he said and acted the way he did. He's sick and if ever he decides he really wants to be well, and he needs my help, I will give it to him. I will do all I can to help him. But he has to make that choice. He has to love me, hell himself, enough to chose to want to be better. I don't think it will happen.
So, thats where I stand, heartbroken and wounded, upset and pissed, confused and chaotic. Life has taken a drastic change and I'm trying to level that out in my head. But I'm here and I'm getting along the best I can...

Weekend blog challenge questions

So, I slacked and failed to answer yesterdays, and just to be sure I don't miss tommorows, I'm going to go ahead and do that too!
1) Your favorite Holiday Traditiion-
For all of my childhood, it was going to my gran Nonas for Christmas Eve. It was the best part of Christmas, seeing most of my favorite people, My grandaddy Red (before he passed away), my darling Uncle Bill (before he lost his mind), My Uncle Clay (because we were kids with a good healthy rivalry, he's only 13 months older than I). It was just the best part of Christmas anyway you looked at it. But things have changed, people changed or are gone, and it's not the same, nor is it our tradition anymore. Now I look forward to doing our own Christmas dinner, with mom, and each year for several years now doing it different. Cause you know, by the time Christmas gets here, theres already been Thanksgiving and maybe a Christmas meal or two. Turkey is not on top of my list. Last year it was all finger foods, it was fun, everyone wandered and ate good and had a great time...
2) Whats on top of your tree?
This year, and for a year or two now, it's been an angel is a turquoise robe. Has been known to be a glitterific star though..
3) Do you set up a nativity scene?
We did when I was a kid, and for the first few years of my kids lives, but we haven't in some time now..

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad

We'll start with that. It's mom and Dad's 32nd (I don't think it's the 33rd?) anniversary. Mom is snuggly sleeping in there and Dad is fighting the snow in the big truck somewhere up north, mad cause he couldn't be home. Love you both...

And in the spirit of an anniversary, I was doing some thinking last night after something Trai said to me. That poor boy, he's been beat down most of his life, so the simplest remark, like, "I really hate that shirt you're wearing", sets him in a tailspin. Now I'll give you, not all remarks I make are that simple. some are more along the lines of "Why do you have to use that tone with me" (that tone is the alpha dog voice as Savanna calls it that he seems to just naturally talk with, but I sometimes take a tad personal). Anyway, in the spirit of mom and dads anniversary, the fact that maazingly they've come over 30 years together, I've made a decision. I'm going to make an effort to really let the little tiny day to day you're so freaking aggravating me stuff go. Sure, if it's a BIG deal to me, it's worth saying something about. But this little teeny stuff that makes him feel like nothing he does or says is right, it's just not worth the fighting or hurt feelings (even if he is a little overly sensitive sometimes, hell, so am I). It'll be hard, cause control of my mouth is something I've never been good at AT ALL but truthfully, I'm pretty sure this boy is worth it....

Now, onto Sophia's blog challenge question today...

#6: When do you put up your decorations? Tell about your traditions, hopes, plans for decorating?

Normally, I am right on it, and get the decorations out the day after Thanksgiving (there have been years my mother has laid down the law and told me I absolutely could not put them up before Thanksgiving). This year I slacked a little. As far as traditions, since being grown, I've grown quite fond of white trees, with very loud obnoxious decorations, Hot pink ones mainly. I had a tree like that when Amos was like, 3. Then I moved back home with the kids and we didn't put up a seperate tree from mom. Since buying the house from mom and ada though, the year Keenan and Will were born, I bought a 6 foot tall white tree and it's loaded with hot pink, lime green and a bright turquoise kind of blue decorations. I love it, the kids love it, it's playful and fun and non traditional to most, but for us, its great. Trai on the other hand says it's unlike anything he's ever seen or had. He also says that just like me, it's almost too much (Is that good or bad for me?). I agree, it's alot like me, loud and colorful and bright. I like it that way.

Traditions as a child, I remember the little Home Interiors (anyone remember them? They still around?) mice, santa bank and nativity scene. I used to get to come home from my gran Nona's on Christmas eve and add baby jesus to the nativity scene before going to bed on Christmas eve. That was cool. and I miss those damn cute little mice and the Santa bank. Wonder where they got off to? Just a memory like childhood I guess, thats kind of a sad thought...

Playing Blog challenge catch up

I've missed 5 days of sophia's questions, so I thought I'd catch up today!!

1) Colored lights? White lights? None?

Outside, I'm a big fan of colored lights. On my tree (even if it wasn't white) I prefer white lights. And none? Who picked none? I can't imagine a Christmas tree without lights!!!

2)Hot chocolate or eggnog?

Big eggnog fan here. For the season, it's eggnog for sure. I can have hot chocolate anytime ya know...

3) Favorite holiday dish?

Again, just like at Thanksgiving, It's the fruit and marshmallow salad.

4) Does Santa wrap presents here?

Heck yeah, Santa thinks thats most of the fun. Santa wraps EVERY LITTLE THING.

5) Do you hang misteltoe?

I have before, but it's not a regular thing for me.If I could easily find it, I'm pretty sure I would.

As for anything else going on, not too much happening. A little peeved with Bobby, as he failed to pay his child support or tell me he did so until the day before it was supposed to arrive in the mail. And he's acting a bit shady about doing what he's supposed to do as far as Christmas is concerned. He's pissed that he has failed to get rid of Trai I guess. I really don't know what his malfunction is.

Trai is still sick, or rather he's sick again. He has quit hurting, but his morning when he got up to go to work, he was hurting like hell again. I'm feeling really bad, it's hard to watch Mr. Macho wince in pain every 2 minutes. Breaks my heart...

Sometime Last Week

I went a little crazy, got all manic and depressed and weird, about last Thursday. But My Hunter's 4 days are over, and I made it through them again. I'll spare everyone the details and leave you with a happy little story...

Yesterday, Trai took me on a ride, we finally made it to the Outpost. Had a nice ride, it wasn't too hot or too cold, not too much sunshine or too little. Trai got really sick coming home (after hours in the ER, determined it was not kidney stones but a SEVERE Urinary Tract Infection), but he made the best of it and tried really hard.

As we came through town I was looking at the Christmas lights and this is what was said...

ME "It's the damn Christmas lights again"

HIM "What are you talking about baby?"

ME "Remember the other night when I told you the last thing I expected ever in my life was to be riding down the road looking at lights from the back of a bike?"

HIM "Oh yeah."

apparently he could here the excitment or astoundment in my voice

HIM "Its something else to see them out in the open like that isn't it"

Me "Yeah... it is."

Maybe I should have told him what my mind really thought. It's like being a kid again, seeing everything brand sparkly shiny and new. For a moment I forgot I had spent all week, mad at the world, mad at god or whatever power. For a moment I was almost a kid again, that had never been hurt or dissappointed. I was truly excited and happy. Because of him, his world and way of seeing things...

Happy Birthday

yeah, so this day sucks.

I hate it every year,

I think maybe more by the year.

8 years old. Wow. How big would you be? Would you be more like Amos, Jakob or Keenan? Maybe you'd be like Tyler was before he died. Would you be tall or short? Big ears? Little ears? Like your hair longer or shorter, or just plain buzzed like Jake? Would it be dark or light? Curly or straight? Would you like bugs and frogs or cars or video games or music or books? These questions plague me, break my heart each and every year. There are a million more I could sit here and ask. Would that heart the other baby got have saved you if I hadn't taken you off of the support? Or would it have been a waste of a heart, just keeping you hangin on for a few more days. Or maybe you wouldn't have even made it through the transplant surgery. Maybe it would have gotten you home, by my birthday. Maybe you'd have been fine, or maybe something would have gone wrong, after I got you home, after EVERYONE and not just myself got attatched, 4 hours away from the doctors that would have known you and you'd have never had a chance here at home.

Maybe I should have made sure Amos and Tyler got to see you before you left Enterprise. Maybe it would have made Tyler feel better, more complete. Maybe he wouldn't have been so heartbroken those last few months of his life. Maybe it wouldn't have made a damn difference in the world.

Maybes are the killers, the ones that keep you up at night, the ones that take your breath away when you least expect it. Like Friday night, at the bar, with someone other than Trai in charge of the music for a few minutes. In that moment he chose to play the dance. I was from laughing and talking to crying, sobbing hysterically in the middle of a bar in 1/2 a second flat. Trai not really sure what was going on until I explained, that was THE funeral song. That was the song Bill said I could've warned him about. Hell, maybe I should have warned myself. To love that song so much, only to hate it later, hate it with a passion now, but every once in a while have to play it,to tear open that wound that I often should know better. Like a scab thats almost healed, so it hurts more, tears the skin and bleeds like hell. But every once in a while I, or some strange fluke of luck or some smell, sound or sight triggers it. Ripped off with a vengance.

Sometimes I think it made me stronger, sometimes I think it wwas all a waste. A waste of a life, a waste of my soul, a waste of alot of pain that never had to be gone through. Mom didn't need it, my dad didn't need to struggle with it, I surely never asked for it. It's a pain I wouldn't wish on anyone.

And where the hell were those friends of mine? Elijah, yeah, he had to convienently leave out of town for a job with Cody as I stood in the yard dressed for the funeral. And Gerald. Who the hell knows where he got off to. He went amiss about 2 weeks before Hunter was born, later coming back and giving me some lame excuse that I accepted. And how about Lisa, who couldn'tcome to me cause she had just "lost" a baby too. Because as I struggled to save my childs life she was 4 streets over having an abortion. Friends, yeah, gotta love them all.

Maybe the only person I can truly say was there was my mom. Kathy tried to be, but pregnant, Clay didn't want her around it. My dad wanted no part in it, no part in seeing him before he died,no part in seeing him after he died. No part of it period, because after all, you have to brace yourself for the worst, thats what he told me. No need to get attached. I ish it had been that easy. I wish that when I was 5 months pregnant and Dr. Banach had told me, I could have just cut that attachment off. But hell no, I had to be one of those save the world people, I TRULY believed I could save him, that there was no reason he couldn't just have his heart fixed or get a new one. Stupid I was at 23.

Those were the days though. The days that I thought the worst you got was a bad husband, and hell you just left him. I thought kids outlived parents, babies never died and medicine could save anyone, with any problem.

Even after I accepted that wasn't the case, then I wanted to know why. Hell I still want to know why. Whats the purpose in giving a mother a child that will never see the light of day? Whats the purpose in hours and hours in a waiting room, to be given good news, to having it taken back? Whats the point in pain that tears families apart, that damages people to the point that they are never the same again? Whats the point in spending the rest of my life, doubting choices I made and wondering why I had to make them in the first place?

Why do I live every year, dreading this day? Why do I have to? There should be presents and a birthday cake and excitement. Instead there are tears held inside, lots of hours, lots of days, losts of weeks, lots of years. And is it even reasonable to still be mourning a child I never knew on his birthday 8 years later? A child whose eyes I never saw, who I didn't get to truly hold touch and feel until he was gone? A child whose face I can't remember, because it was covered with tape and wires and tubes. A child who was in a drug induced coma, paralyzed his entire 4 days of life. A child that I don't know anything about, right down to his weight because 2 hospitals and a life flight crew all have different weights for him within a 12 hour period.

A child that never took a bottle, whose cry I never heard, eyes I never saw, never walked, talked, laughed, got his first tooth, played his first ball game, watched his first race with me, made me one of those cheesy mothers day presents at school, a toilet paper roll turkey or a really bad, really glittery kindergarten Christmas ornament. What's there to be attached to?

I'll tell you, it was the idea of him. The preperation for him, the anticipation of him. I felt him kick, I felt him move, he made me miserable for many months, from morning sickness to sitting on a nerve that made my hip have a constant twitch for the last 3 months of my pregnancy. I kind of knew him. In my mind. He was active, moving about for hours on end each day. He kicked and he kicked HARD. Just like any normal pregnancy, you get to know them, as they grow. ? I know he was more active at 2am than 8am. I know he was a night time baby. I know he made me crave Reeses cups and subway. I knew enough to be attached. I knew enough to love my child even without ever seing his eyes. And those that take issue with that, well, they can kiss my ass. Happy Birthday Hunter, I love you and miss you.

A good weekend

Wow, Thanksgiving, even late, was good.

Auburn beating Alabama, that was awesome. There was no way I wanted to have to listen to Trai about Alabama winning for the next year. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, google "Iron Bowl". In college football rivalries ESPN ranked it second, only behind Army/ Navy. Thats a hardcore rivalry right there, something here in Bama we take very seriously, the only football game I watch all year. When kids are born here, their team is decided, til they get old enough to choose on their own. Luckily, none of mine have deflected to the enemy, although we did have a close call with Jakob one year.

A little peeved about Trai's boots. Did finally get a tracking number. Dude told me they would ship Monday, told me they did ship Tuesday, and in truth, they shipped Wendsday. And they'll be here this Wendsday. Pfffffft, stupid ebay stores. Oh well, he'll still get them and he'll still love them.

So anyway, Saturday was alright, won the game, went out for a few beers, came home. Were supposed to go riding to the Outpost yesterday, we've been trying to go for about three months, never made it. Woke up it was foggy and not too pretty looking, but, go figure it never did rain, until today. Did get a short little ride around town though, which was nice since Trai had been gone for those ten days.

Today it pours cats and dogs and Trai doesn't have to work, which is good, because he seems to have the flu again. Poor fellow. He finished my tattoo about 1am (yeah, we did another!), thought he was just tired, but then the shakes came, then the fever. No good at all, so thank god for rain and a day off.

And my tattoo, might be my new favorite. We put it on the leg with my Marah Johnson pink pig tailed skull, keeping with the theme of that leg. It's my kind of funky, kind of punk leg. I'll be adding Marah's drop dead red skull to it, as well as the pink cherries and that evil little bear. So this one, it was a kinda comic looking skull, in the start it had flames right behind it with some smoke behind that. I photoshopped all that out, left the stars and told Trai I wanted roses, yes roses. Now, this was shocking on a number of levels because :

(a) I said I never wanted flowers on me (yeah, that went out the window with the koi)

(b) I said I never wanted no stinking roses (yeah, I'm an anti rose girl, such standard flowers to me, don't by me roses, yuck, I'm a wildflower, sunflower kind of girl)

(c) Trai had just said he HATED doing roses, he was sick of them. I thought his head might explode when he said, just tell me what you want me to make your background out of and I'll do it baby.

It turned out awesome, colorful as usual, even though I did doubt him and argue with him when he added all 8 colors (yeah, I asked for three, he said trust me). And the kicker?

Amos, Savanna and Jakes names in the banner? They wrote them, trai tattooed them. Thats the bomb right there. Trai saves the day again, all I had was some scans of their handwriting, he took it, made it his own and rocked it. And thats just one of the gazillion reasons I love him.