sniff sniff

Well I have finally stopped crying.
And not a moment to soon as my eyes were about ready to swell shut altogether.

What is it about us females types that certain events can turn us into puddles of salty water. Make that pools. Or oceans. Maybe not oceans, but large, very very large bodies of salty water. I can't blame it on PMS as chemo and Tamoxephen have eliminated that happy time for me. So all I have is just female emotions to thank.

Thanks for all the comments, prayers and well wishes.

I really did it to see if anyone was still reading.

Just kidding. I did have a little breakdown. More of a medium sized breakdown.

It all started with this cold. It was BH's cold first and then he gave it to me. Because he is kind and generous that way. But he was much sicker with it. He was on 2 separate rounds of drugs, 2 inhalers, pills, an awesome tasting cough syrup that I'm sure had something of street value in it. I am getting over it all by myself. So he really only gave me half a cold. And that was nice.

Oh wait, I have to tell you this. Before work I go into Tar*get to get some Sud*efed for said cold. Now I'm dressed for work mind you. Pinstripe pants, lacy blouse, matching jacket, hair, makeup, jewelry, you know, I look like an office type gal. Other than my red eyes and nose from said cold I do not look like a speed freak. I'd have to drop about 50 pounds and sandpaper my face to even come close. I plop 2 boxes of Sud*efed on the counter with my license. (last time I bought a box they scanned my license) 'Oh I'm sorry, you can only buy one box.' My response, 'How am I going to make my meth with just one box?' 'I'm sorry, you'll have to go to another store, that's the rules. See my machine wont even scan the other box.'

I thought it was funny. She. Never cracked a smile.

Even before the cold I was stressing. Stressing. I tried to keep the stress to a minimal. I didn't talk about 'it' so no one really new how much I was troubled by 'it'. Except BH. 'Where's the ice cream? Did you eat ALL the ice cream? ALL OF IT? There was more than half a carton!' (He says as if that's such a strange occurrence.) 'Where's the cookies? Are there any more crackers? Is all that granola GONE? Babe, are you stressed out about something?' Hmmm, why do you ask?

'It' was my house. 'It' has been empty all of February and now all of March. Morgage payment? Mine all mine. Money? What money? I'm thinking I'm gonna lose the house. It required a lot of fixing. A lot. With what little money I had and some I didn't I fixed it up as best I could. No renters. None. Well not true. Many looked. Those that wanted it were awful. Horrendous credit, evictions, many kids, too many kids for a little 3 bed home. One had pitbulls. Plural! Two pits! "They're sweet as can be, really, they LOVE children." (Are they tasty? Young children=tender sweet flesh?) I feel sorry for pits, many have a bad rap. However in a rental situation the liability is just to great. No pits, no rotts, no exceptions. Oh and they (perspective renters that is) are getting clever. Staffordhire Terrier and Terrier mixes are other names for 'I don't want to tell you I have a pitbull'

But that's not all. It never is when I have a meltdown. It's the layers of stress the cause me to crack.

The other is harder to write about. I don't know how to say it without making BH look like an ass. All men are assess sometimes, you all get that, but this was emotionally very hard for me. It involved my kids. BH has been grumbling for a few days. Little things. I know he's annoyed with the boys but I can't quite figure out why. They are a little messy, they are, but it's not so bad. I'm not saying that cause I'm mom, it just isn't that bad. They've cleaned up their dishes but left crumbs on the counter, stuff like that. They work a lot so we don't see them much. Their girlfriends come over sometimes. Mostly they go to their room so as not to bother us. They're not even noisy. Sometimes I have to check their rooms to see if they're home. So. . . what's the problem? Well he says, he caught one of the girls coming into the house with a key. He doesn't want anyone to have a key, does she have her own key? (the answer is no, used middles key for some reason) BH has lots of guns, are they safe? Does he need to lock them up? (they've never bothered with the guns before, ????) He has no privacy, he can't run around nekked. (He didn't much before they moved in so ????) He worries that they'll walk into our room. (they never have) What about valuables? So my melt down begins with, 'They're good kids. They never disturb us, they haven't touched your guns, they don't care about your stuff, they're not noisy, they're not all that messy and they aren't home all that much. So them just being here, in your house, bugs you?'

He agrees, they are good kids. He knows that. He wants to talk to them to see if we can't work out the problem.

WHAT PROBLEM? Them just living here bugs him! Just living here! How do you fix that? How do you talk that one through? What's the solution?

My solution? Move. Me, the boys, we just move. What else can I do? What else is there to do? They can't afford to live on their own, they are still young and need help.

BH doesn't want that. I don't want that. We love each other. We're good for each other. As a couple, we're pretty darn near perfect. But I won't kick out my boys and I wont have them live in a home where they're not wanted and I will live with them until they're able to be out there on their own.

For now, things are calm. He doesn't want the boys leave, he doesn't want me to leave. He's an older guy. (I like to say old fart just to annoy him) His kids are grown, not just legal age grown, married with children grown. They have their own homes. My kids are still financially dependent in that area.

He also lived alone for a long time. He likes that, liked that. Until I came along, like a whirlwind and changed everything in his life. Then I brought my dog. Then my boys. And another dog. And there was the cancer. That sucked for him too. I don't forget how tough it was for him.

So I thought I'd move into my house. With my boys. Finances would be tough, but we could do it. It's empty, we could have the dogs with us. We couldn't in an apartment.

Last night we had a nice talk. Nice. The boys are avoiding him big time. Except middle. Middle said 'We'll have that talk soon but my work/school schedule these next couple of days are bad.' Bh feels bad. Although he is adjusting he just needed to blow off a little steam and maybe there are some things we can do. He's also a little worried about his health. He's having some tests and the tests are not fun. Bloodwork, GI, and a colonoscopy. None of those are worth looking forward to. And he has been sick with this cold in his chest.

For now I think things are good. Now that I've stopped crying maybe I can find something humorous in all of this. But I got nuthin. It's hard blending families. I just finished up Paula Deens bio (a fun read, not what I expected to hear about her, but fun) and she has the last few chapters on blending the families of her new hubby. Much like mine except she is older with older kids and he has younger kids, about my kids age. I will say that in the beginning things were very bad between my kids and BH. It didn't take them long to come around and like him, and I believe they do. But they also struggle with some things in BH's personality. Things they might not care about except for their mom. My boys are very protective of me. Always have been. They are momma's boys. But in a good way I think. We'll do anything for each other

So we just wait and see. Relax. Take it easy. Witchypoo was right, my energy WAS hectic. I think off the charts, but hectic was a nice way to put it. I'm better now. Grounded, earthed. I putzed in the garden some and soaked up some rays and I 'feel' more content now.

And maybe? When they do BH's colonoscopy? They'll find he's full of shyte! Just kidding. I love the big goon.