Dumpy diddy dump

So look at this, two days in a row. That hasn't happened even once on my blog. Ever. Because I don't care enough. But I need somewhere to be honest, somewhere that I don't have to dump on Kyle. A void, not a person, because sometimes I don't trust people. It's not just about trust, but people pity you or they try to fix how you feel, when really you just need someone to listen, somewhere to dump. I trust this blank piece of paper, I trust that it will listen without gossiping to it's other paper friends about my ridiculous feelings and how absurd I am. I trust it won't judge or criticize the way I feel, it will just let me be, let me get it out, and help me to feel a little more relieved. Maybe I will sleep without stressing over my absurdities. Maybe tomorrow the things that worry and bother me now won't bother me so much tomorrow, because I dumped it out on this blank piece of paper.

    I've never been a good journal keeper, I've always kind of hated it. I never really found it necessary, I just saw it as something I was doing for, I guess maybe genealogical purposes, so I never really got far. I wrote in my journal when I was a teenager maybe 20 times. I had better things to do! So much fun to be had I just didn't care about writing! Though at the time I felt I had a lot of concerns and problems, it was a much simpler and less demanding time in life.

   Today was Sunday. Church. Meh. Screaming children in the nursery. No sanctuary. Again, me being selfish. I need sanctuary! But other people need it too and they also need to get their callings done, so here I am, in nursery. Yep. I had hoped for bonding with the other ladies I serve with but I beginning to think that will be another dead end of hopes. So sad, I had high hopes for finding kinship in nursery, but my hopes were dashed today. Just another place that people seem to worry about the dumb details instead of actually supporting each other in the gospel. It's completely my fault I feel that way. I have high expectations of new people I meet. I expect them to not expect me to be perfect, and when they do expect me to be perfect I reject them before they reject me.
    Be Ethan's mom is hard. Being Ella's mom is hard. Being Jackson's mom is a little less hard, but more riddled with guilt because he is a good kid and he doesn't get the attention and accolades he deserves. So let's focus on Ethan. I LOVE Ethan. He's so annoying, so annoying! Yet his is hilarious and crazy and I love it! He gives me a lot of laughs, but most of those laughs are at home. In public, people are very judgmental, and he is very overstimulated. He's loud, crazy, ignores directions, and is down right embarrassing. I'm used to it. Kyle's a little less used to it and a little more easily embarrassed than me. When Ethan starts to be embarrassing I tell him to look around and notice that everyone is staring at him and noticing his inappropriate behavior. Sometimes it works and sometimes he doesn't care.
    Our restaurant vs. kids score in 0 and 2 in the past month. I tried to have a casual meeting before my Zumba conference with my future roommates, two of whom I had never met. Within 15 minutes of being in the restaurant with my 3 kids I had to leave, in tears, with a wake of mess behind me at the table. I was SO embarrassed, but they were amazingly nice and understanding and didn't judge the crazy I was hauling. The waiter was really gracious, and I am really grateful to him. He didn't make us pay for the drinks we had already ordered. He say not to worry and even offered breadsticks free of charge for the road. I declined of course, too much pride. But Olive Garden earned a gold star in my book that day. On our second fail, Kyle and his parents were with us. We went to Denny's. The waitress at Denny's was not gracious and neither were the people. We got a lot of harsh stares and looks from the patrons. I get it, my kids look like a train wreck and we look like horrible parents. Sometimes I care, sometimes I don't. That night, I cared. Today, I care. I care that my children are polarizing. I care that people reject us and never give us a chance. It's lonely here on crazy kid island, but at the same time I would rather die than have those same people pity me. Who wants a pity friend? Never, ever me. I just want real friends, the ones who don't disappear within meeting our kids for a few minutes. The ones who don't see us as broken and someone who needs help. I don't necessarily NEED help me my kids, I more just need acceptance. I don't like being pitied by people. Some people do it because they don't know how else to respond because they feel bad for us. That's the worst kind of friend in my opinion, because they don't really respect you or see you as an equal, they just feel bad for you. I don't want someone to feel bad for me, I just want someone to sincerely be my friend.

     I think I am pretty okay, I think Kyle is too, but the people we are surrounded by make me think otherwise. I am jealous of the clique, though I think the clique is dumb. I am not a clique kind of girl, but the clique still makes me feel bad and excluded, especially when they pounce on the new people and continue to see you as bottom dwellers. I'm not a bottom dweller. Remember, this is how Bonnie feel's, which doesn't necessarily mean it's true, it just means that is how I feel in response to their behavior. I especially feel this way because someone who I thought was my friend rejected me and joined the clique. We'll call her Stella (you like? haha). Stella rejected me about a year and a half ago when we had a falling out. She was in a difficult time of life, and I said stupid things to offend her. I felt bad, I didn't mean to offend her, but sometimes she was pushy and I felt controlled and pushed back. I felt bad, though I shouldn't have. I apologized to her, sat down and had a good talk. I had a couple more after that with her. But after that it was all surface friendship. You know, the kind that's friendly to your face but is just a matter of tolerating you while you are in public. Behind closed doors she doesn't really consider me a friend. And as our distance grew I began to see that she never really did. More selfish banter for me, here it comes. We invited her children to several of our birthday parties, she never once invited mine. When I came to that realization that she didn't even attempt to invite us it made me feel bad, really bad. Then I started to realize other little things, things that made me realize I wasn't really ever a REAL friend in her eyes, I was ALWAYS just a "surface friend", it just took me a long time to realize it. I spent a long time hoping she would get through her "hard time" in life and reach out to me, but I really just watched her find a much more "appropriate" friend and she continued to keep her distance from me and still does. She'll chat on the phone for a few minutes, but it still just seems like she is keeping the peace between us, no desire to actually be friends. I guess it is what it is, but it was someone who I sincerely considered a friend for a long time and she's moved on. It still makes me sad because I really like and respect her, but there is very little like and especially not respect on the other end. Mostly just disdain and tolerating me. Sadness from me, I could use someone who cares. There was a time that my pride made me push anyone and everyone away a little, an arms length if you will. It's funny how things change, and kind of unfortunate at the same time.

     I feel like this dumping thing is making me sound void of joy and that's not true at all. Somedays I find joy, other days it is very hard and I feel very alone. I feel as though I am to learn something very spectacular in life due to the children I was given. Either that or I fear I might lose my sanity because I can't keep up with it all. It sounds ridiculous that these 3 kids put me under the table, but they really do. I'm in over my head. I hope for help somewhere out there. I would like to say I pray for it, and sometimes I do, but I don't trust my prayers. I feel forgotten by everyone, and especially God, if he is really even there. I'm angry. I'm not sure at who or what, but I'm definitely at a pivotal point in my life and my relationship with my faith. I've never felt so tested in my life. When I was a child my faith was firm and unshakeable. Now? It's completely shaken. Forsaken is a better word than forgotten. Completely forsaken. And I pity myself. I am jealous of those who feel edified and spiritual because I am so angry and alone I can't get even close. And duh, of course there are people who work so much harder than me in the church, so much! But I had a fabulous, yet rough 4 years in young women and I really need some love from above poured down on me. Sometimes i feel like if you don't have an obvious crisis (i.e. death, divorce, cancer, etc) then you are not allowed to feel overwhelmed or burdened or to suffer, in the eyes of others that is. They look at you and think, "okay, she's not a single parent, she only has 3 kids, she doesn't have to work a full time job, what's her problem?" I feel selfish for feeling down and forsaken. But I also feel as though I've earned the right. I have A LOT to deal with. A lot I don't share, not even with this paper, yet that is. Maybe someday I'll share the whole of it.

You have to start somewhere

I have always hated my blog. It's been really hard for me to care about updating it. I guess I didn't start to care until I decided I needed my blog to be for me, so here it comes, and sorry to the few of you that are still blogging and my accidentally stumble on this. I finally decided I needed somewhere to dump my crazy, because there is way too much of it in my head. Again sorry if you accidentally read this or if you read it on purpose, but I'm puttin' crap here because I can't put it anywhere else. I'm not going to spell check, edit, or filter. Nope. Because I am the ONLY one reading. Hopefully.
Let's start with divorce. I found out yesterday that an old friend of mine is getting divorced. She used to do my hair, I really like her, we had a lot in common and had become pretty good friends. Then she changed, and it wasn't quickly, it was gradual, but in the end BIG change came. I was really shellshocked when I found out she was getting divorced, but then I wasn't. Of course we would chat a lot when she did my hair. We would talk about our other jobs (at the gym), our kids, we'd gossip, and of course we would talk about our personal marriage struggles. Everybody has them, it was just good girl venting time. I always thought her husband was so nice. He was always very friendly and polite whenever I was there, and never in a creepy way, in a very trustworthy way like you knew that he was a good man.
     In all honesty when I heard they were getting divorced my finger immediately pointed in her direction. I judged her right away. I am sure it's none of my business whose fault it is and I shouldn't point my dirty finger. The more details I heard, the more I feared I was right. She had made things of, let's say plastic, more important than the real things and I could see the change was happening in her when she was doing my hair. That's one of the reasons I stopped going. I started to become very disappointed in her. A normal looking, happy family on the outside, corrupted for what may have been years on the inside. I started thinking, "this is my friend, someone I know well. How could she do this? What kind of person does this? No person like me." I remember that thought process, I was driving in my car, and I remember because I had a profound thought process next, "she used to be just like me. That's why we were friends." I realized that someone just like me decided they are done being married. Someone just like me decided to take different turns in their path in life and ultimately her turns landed her at this. It made me so sad to realize that. Myself and "said friend" had SO much in common! We both loved fitness, nutrition, we had crazy kids, we both loved to talk and laugh. It made me sad to think see her life change as I did. I watched her become more and more self obsessed and more demanding and selfish. And maybe it was my other very fabulous friend who pointed out that "said friend" used to be normal, just like us. She used to each sandwiches and chips everyday and be a normal weight, instead of starving herself, working out 3 hours a day, and getting spray tanned every week. I'm not judging spray tanning or working out or starving yourself for that matter, I am just saying it was a part of her process of downward spiral. It was a small portion of a much bigger picture. She is no longer just like us, and it makes me sad. It also makes me scared. People can be so changed and I'm not saying I am perfect or filled with faith beyond measure, but maybe I am saying that I feel like for the most part the things of the world haven't deceived me into thinking they are better than what I have at home.
   Which brings me to my home. I want to run away from it today. Today is rough. ROUGH. Sometimes I think people think 3 kids is cake. No problem. In all honesty, most days I want to cry. Ethan is everywhere and into everything. Ella is everywhere and into everything. And then there are two more of them that need me! (Jack and Kyle of course). I feel like people expect us to be the normal family but we are SO not. I feel a lot of pressure from the outside for me to take care of everyone else and their family too. I feel responsible for others and I also feel very guilty when I don't help. It's not fake pressure that I create, I promise. It's the phone calls and the facebook messages and the knocks on the door. It seems to never end and sometimes, I feel like everyone else needs me and I am at the bottom of everyone else's list. Yes, it's very self-deprocating and selfish. I know it is. But it's really how I feel: very overwhelmed. OVERWHELMED. No time for happiness because there is always so much work. No time for spiritual edification. Church is PAIN. Church is just work, work, work. I feel jealous of people who go to church and actually get something out of it, because I spend my sacrament meeting trying to keep my children from burning the building down and then I go chase everyone else's children afterwards. I don't even want to go anymore. It's depressing and sad for me. I am sad this is how I feel, but ahhhh it feels good to say it. My testimony is a mess, very a mess. I feel forgotten by my heavenly father. I feel as though I don't matter. I feel like all I am suppose to do is give everything I have until there are no smiles and nothing is left of me. I love to serve, I always have, but I feel as though in that service I should find spiritual upliftment. I haven't. I don't feel the spirit. I don't if know if I think there's anyone up there who is looking out for me. My whole life I have done what's right. I've taken care of others, followed the gospel ( a few naughty exceptions back in my younger years), done good for others, been a good friend. I'm still being good, but maybe now I've come to a point where the service feels in vain and makes me more sad than it does anything. It's hard to be shoved in to the back corner and only have people care about you when there is a job to get done and they need someone to do it. Crazy talk? Probably a little. This is a really hard stage in my life. I go, go , go all day long until the minute I drop into bed and then it starts all over. I am sad that I don't get to enjoy my minutes. I resent reading my scriptures, it just seems like more work at the end of an intensely long day. I resent saying my prayers, it seems in vain. I HATE going to church, it never spiritually edifies me, it only is work work work. More work. More never ending exhaustion. It's all very selfish, I know it, but I am sad and there seems no end in sight.  Depressing end, but Ethan is begging for the computer.