I write letters and share them with the internets.

  • Letters

    A letter to myself and a reply from myself.

    *inspired by Tracy Chapman – At This Point In My Life*

    Dear Kristine,

    At this point in my life
    Ive done so many things wrong I don’t know if I can do right.
    If you put your trust in me, I hope I wont let you down.
    If you give me a chance I’ll try.
    You see its been a hard road the road I’m traveling on
    And if I take your hand I might lead you down the path to ruin.
    Ive had a hard life I’m just saying it so you’ll understand
    That right now, right now, I’m doing the best I can.

    At this point in my life
    Although Ive mostly walked in the shadows
    I’m still searching for the light
    Wont you put your faith in me,
    We both know thats what matters
    If you give me a chance I’ll try
    You see I’ve been climbing stairs, but mostly stumbling down
    I’ve been reaching high, always losing ground.
    You see Ive conquered hills, but I still have mountains to climb.
    And right now, I’m doing the best I can.
    At this point in my life

    Before we take a step,
    Before we walk down that path,
    Before I make any promises,
    Before you have regrets,
    Before we talk commitment,
    Let me tell you of my past,
    All Ive seen and all Ive done,
    The things Id like to forget,

    At this point in my life
    Id like to live as if only love mattered,
    As if redemption was in sight
    As if the search to live honestly
    Is all that anyone needs
    No matter if you find it.

    You see when Ive touched the sky
    The earths gravity has pulled me down
    But now Ive reconciled that in this world
    Birds and angels get the wings to fly.
    If you can believe in this heart of mine,
    If you can give it a try,
    Then I’ll reach inside and find and give you
    All the sweetness that I have.


    Dear Kristine,
    I’ve read your words and I want to believe you because you have been so honest with me.
    Truthfully, I’ve had a hard time with trust lately.
    You say you’re afraid you’ll take me down the path to ruin if I take your hand, but if you would have looked over during your travels you would have seen that I’ve sort of been on the same path you’ve been on. I keep waiting for you to stop walking through fire to prove a point, but you not only walk over the coals into the flame, you stand there and let them eat at you. It’s sad to watch.  The only comfort I get out of it is knowing that eventually you see what you’re doing and you get out before the damage is reversible. Sadly, I see that maybe they weren’t healed wounds, but just faint scars that only I can see because I have been staring at them for so long.

    You talk about the shadows you have walked in, Kristine.  There has never been anything that would cast a shadow on you. I am the one that has traveled in the shadows, waiting for you to realize that you’re stronger than all the hills you continue to climb, avoiding the mountains.

    There is no need to talk of your past. If anyone knows about your strengths and weaknesses, it’s me. I’ve spent years with this little girl you use to be. Her beautiful hair dragging along the dirt as she  hung her head from the swing in the front yard letting the wind freeze her to the bone, refusing to wear a jacket because she wouldn’t be able to feel the sting of the air on her skin if she did.
    Your teenage years were fun to watch as you experimented on how far you could push yourself and everyone around you. You learned your limitations quickly, but it never stopped you from pushing that line as you got older.
    I remember the days when you would put your hand out the window and let the air glide your hand over the trees, over the hills, back down to earth again. I remember the laughter on your lips. The look you would get on your face when you were stumped by one of life’s questions or the smug look when you had insight to what was going through someone’s mind.
    I was there when you were at that crossroad in your life when you had to make a choice.
    You always struggled with the ‘what if’s’ in life. It never slowed you down as a wife, mother or a friend though.
    I was sorry when your life came tumbling over itself. I was there though and I know you remember me. I was the one talking to you when you forgot how to breath.  There were days when you were just on auto-pilot. I knew you could always hear me though. You fought to get to where I was and sometimes I thought you would forget I was there because you would get so caught up in figuring it all out.
    Once you settled into not knowing what path to take and just letting me lead the way, you seemed to do pretty good. Don’t get me wrong…you were still a major pain in the ass because you were so stubborn about everything.   Sometimes I would just let you think you were in charge then, but I knew I was doing a good job and you were happy.

    You mentioned that you would like to live as if only love mattered. Kristine, you’ve always lived your life like that. Since March, 23rd of 1993, your life has been nothing but love. From the moment you saw your fist daughter you lived life as if nothing in the world mattered more than making life full of love for her. Again on January 7th, 1997 you fell in love again. Remember how your heart nearly exploded with love when you looked at your second daughter?  And if that wasn’t enough you were allowed to have love lead your way on May 15th of the next year.
    Have you forgotten so quickly what your purpose in life was the moment you looked at them?  I didn’t think so. You’re smarter than that.
    You don’t need redemption, you just need to remember again and again, every single day that love you felt when you thought there was no more room in your heart for love, but found more with each passing day.
    Now, here is my promise to you;
    If you take my hand and let me lead the way, forgetting all this other petty bullshit that you seem to think is so damned important, I will remind you every single day that you are good, beautiful & worthy. These are all the things that you are think are untrue. You think you’re not good, not beautiful, not worthy. I’m here to tell you that you are and if you PROMISE me that you’ll listen to me when I remind you every day that you are that I will find you those wings so you can fly.

    I believe in that heart of yours
    And will give you a chance.

    You deserve that chance…at this point in your life.


  • Anxiety,  Dashababy,  friends,  hope,  Letters,  My Brats,  Shaun,  stuff portrait friday,  The Fonz

    and then a hero comes along.

    This week Stuff Portrait Friday is Hero.  I had several days to think on it and as the hours came down to minutes, I realized that if you have been reading this blog for anytime, you know who my heroes are.

    1. My Mother: You know that saying, “you’ve come a long way,baby.”? I’m pretty sure that was made up for her. Her road isn’t a road I would wish on anyone.  I wish over and over she could see how proud of her that I am. To see her at rock bottom and not only pull herself up, but bring those around up with her is awesome.

    2. My sister: I get googled, kid you not, EVERY SINGLE DAY for this entry. I’m not sure if someone just likes reading it, or if there are people out there that are writing letters to their sisters and need a little help. I’m pretty sure they can’t say the same things about their sister as I can say about mine. She’s special. I’m her only sister and she makes sure that means something.

    3. Martin Luther King Jr.: His words. My world changed when I began reading his words. The way he looked at people and their actions made all the sense in the world to me. How could we not all live in THAT world he describes with such passion? To live your life with drive and ambition for GOOD and love.

    These are the people you know are my heroes.

    There are other people in my life that are too. My brother, Barry. (dorky one in the back) My brother, Jerry (dorky one to my right) and my dorky brother, Michael (not in picture) and the people that love them.   Today my brother Michael turns 41.  To me, he’s still 10. He’s still that mean ass brother that picked on me and also made sure that my first day of school I wasn’t crying the whole time. He would peak through the window of my class on his recess break to make sure I was okay. My husbands; Ex and Current. Shit, they put up with me. Do you know how much restraint that must take them?
    My friends; Really, come on…you think you have to hear me bitch? You get the Cambells soup version of what they have to hear.  My husband’s ex-wife; We take turns being the evil one. I think today was my day. Sorry, Tabitha.  Old friends that no matter what I did or said to them STILL love me.  You have no idea what your forgiveness means to me.

    So who’s my hero?  Me.
    It’s who all those people that I love SO much and look up to would want me to call my hero. Myself.
    It’s who I want my daughters to call their hero. Themselves.
    Noooooo, they certainly didn’t have it as bad as that group of people in the picture that share a last name. NOT EVEN CLOSE.  If not getting to go on the ‘East Coast Trip’ or getting your cell phone taken away is as bad as it gets, count yourself lucky.

    I’m a survivor. I didn’t do it alone. I’ve had hundreds of hands (my family…and YOURS) pick me up and dust me off.  At the end of the day, I have to live this life the best way I know how.  I think I might be doing okay.

    Now, I am going to force myself to go to sleep because tomorrow I am going with Dan and the kids to Redding to watch my step son in his last play of his high school career. Ryan hasn’t been my ‘official’ step son for the last 8 years, but that doesn’t change my love for him and how I will always support him in no matter what he does in life. It also means  I will need to take about 6 xanax to be able to sit with his mother who thinks I am satan in a pair of flip flops.

    So, who’s your hero?  You picked me huh? Yeah…I thought so.  DID YOU PLAY???

  • Dashababy,  Letters

    Dear Kath,

    Hey sister my sister. Remember when I started this blog and it was just so you and mom could drop in and see how I was doing because I am the lousiest caller-backer EVER?
    Tonight is a reminder of the good ol’ days. Kind of give the outside world a view in to our bizarre conversations.
    Either they will be bored to death or think I have officially lost my mind.

    My hair…I finally like the color. It took longer than I thought it was going to, but the colors now finally work together and it’s nearly time to come up and let you abuse me again. I found the hair that grows in the middle of my forehead the other day. It has been removed so that was robbed from you. *evil laughter*

    It’s 10pm. You called earlier and sounded like you were in a great mood…damn kids calling and getting me all forgetful. Sorry. I guess you’re probably in bed now. Snoring like a drunken sailor.

    It rained here today. BAD. Thunder and lightening and everything. Reminded me of when we lived in the trailer and Sissy and Sadie would hide in the bath tub.

    I’m doing okay. I was reading some posts from last year and was reminded how much my family is the medication I need. I know, I know…I don’t want to hear it. I can’t move back to Redding. I won’t move back to Redding. We will just have to find a way to make our visits last longer and more often. I want to see Barry too. I miss him…us…how we all laugh until we cry when we are together. I would suggest a family reunion, but that would just send all of us anxiety people into a spiral of Eeyoreness (yes, I am making that a word) I hate that someone has to die for all of us to get together. I know next month is one of Terry’s daughters wedding and I’ll be up there for that. Not the same though.

    I miss mom too. Even when she’s all jacked up and grumpy. I miss her. There are times when I just want to throw my hands up in the air and say, “Screw it. Someone else take care of this shit. I’m leaving for a week.” It just never seems to be able to happen. Between doctor visits, orthodontic appointments, school crap and work…I just can’t say, ‘fuck it.’

    Looking at my calendar, I’m booked EVERY DAMN WEEKEND for the next few months. This up coming weekend I have Alisyn’s baby shower, the week after that a birthday party…the week after that is a wedding…does it end?
    I’m about to pull my hair out with all the stuff. and stuff. and more stuff.

    How about you, me, a beach with a cock in our hand? Damn, do I miss having a plan for something with you. Something to look forward to. It makes me want to cry. Oh shit, I am crying.

    I have been sitting on Southwest airlines website for days on end just waiting for something. Something that says, “Hey, book me. You, your sister, your mom…GO. NOW. GO!”

    I miss you, Kath… I love you too.


  • Letters,  Shaun

    Happy Birthday, Shaun

    It seems for the last few years I have always forgotten your birthday. In fact, most of the time I have to have Charlotte remind me.

    Not this year though.

    The day before your birthday was spent holding your brand new grand-daughter, Taylor Marie. The night before your birthday was spent hanging out with your son that will soon be leaving for Iraq. Then we rolled into your birthday at the track betting on horses. Could a birthday eve and birthday and birthday get any better?

    I don’t know. We’ll find out after I log off *wiggling eyebrows* —Oh wait, you just let out a huge yawn. Maaaaay-be not.

    I love you sweetheart.

    Through the good times and through the bad. We’ve had them both.

    It seems like we are always treading water, but we will get through whatever is thrown our way.

    Happy Birthday, Old Fart.

  • Anxiety,  Letters,  Random and Odd

    My Mail Sucks. End of Story.

    I’ve been trying to send out mail for the past few days. I’m not the best ‘caller-backer’ and my friend, ‘Cita has dubbed me the ‘worst person in the whole world to get a hold of and I never, ever call back’.
    In fact, if I say, “I’ll call you back.” You can actually hear her snort all the way into other galaxies.

    I try to be fairly good with emails though. I do. Honestly. Sometimes I don’t respond on my blog, but I will send private messages to people thanking them for the kind words or screeching at them for calling me a variety of obnoxious names.
    Yes, I have resorted to responding to hate mail. I always said I wouldn’t do it, but damn it…if I can’t beat my children then I am going to have to take it out on someone.

    So, sitting in my inbox:

    Sharkey: Why can’t you favorite my pictures on Flickr?
    Odd Mix: I live about 2 hours from SF, but would love to meet you.
    Shaun: Guess what? I think it’s time to seriously looking into a padded room for me. I’m not doing good. I’m not doing so good that I can’t even feel how bad I am doing. That is pretty bad.
    Dr. Lousy: I will be there Friday with bells on. Trust me, we have some things to work out and the topic of IBS is not going to be one. I have gone from anxiety and panic to straight paranoia. I’m pretty certain that my windshield is going to crack wide open and I’m going to be covered in shattered glass (thanks Kath for that little bit of paranoia.), I’m going to be pulled over for my tags being expired. OH, and the bank is going to come repo my house. If you tell me to pay my bills I am going to shove both of my hands down your throat and rip out everything I can grip onto…because YOU STATE THE OBVIOUS TOO OFTEN! DUH.

    Okay, so that is about all the emails I have waiting to be sent out that for some evil reason they are not going out.

    Can you tell I have reached a whole new level of crazy?

  • Letters,  Shaun

    One year down…..

    Shaun here. Kristine, one year ago today, I was slipping hallucinogens in your bottled water. It worked, you said ‘I do’. That completed my master plan to use you for your money….amazing water pressure in your shower. You’re pretty cute too…but that water pressure, WOW. At any rate, you said yes and there’s no do-overs. I checked the paperwork and they’re pretty clear on that.
    Kristine, I love you. I’m hoping to write fifty more of these anniversary posts.

  • ex,  Letters,  My Brats



    adj 1: roused to anger; “stayed huffy a good while”- Mark Twain;

    It’s Friday and I don’t normally post anything but SPF on Friday…but as you can see, I’m a bit in a huff.

    I got some stuff floating around that if I don’t get off my chest there is a good chance I will ice pik the next bastard that comes within arms reach of me.

    1. I DID NOT STEAL HIM AWAY. Really, I was like 18 years old and he was 28. If I had ANY clue you even exsisted, I would have RAN (not walked) because girl, you have mental problems. You scare me. No one, NO ONE person should carry around that much anger and resentment for another person. It makes you ugly with bitterness. Stop blaming me for your inablity to regain a life. It’s been like 16 years…move on. Find someone that is going to love you for who you are. Find someone. He’s not really THAT much of a catch. HONESTLY, I was married to him remember? We split up 6 years ago, if he was going to come running back, he would have by now. MOVE ON. Stop blaming me for everything. Oh, and just so you know…all those text messages- you should really be careful what you write because someone might let someone else read them. Can you say, EWWWWWW?
    2. Dude, for real…quit with telling people about my private life.
    3. Take some damn responsibilty for the people in your life. Quit EXPECTING people to bend over backwards to make your life easier because you have been done wrong in the past. The world…it’s not revolving around you. The world revolves around who is getting booted of American Idol and you need to learn that. Sit down, shut up and take some responsiblity.
    4. The hate mailing people. Thank you. Thank you for taking a vacation. I probably shouldn’t say anything because it will just egg you on to write me more, but for the last two weeks you have been so nice as to not point out that I am a horrible person.
    5. Dog, QUIT THE DAMN BARKING. I know life is unfair. You’ve told me that a million times. I have mentioned many times that you could have been a goner if it wasn’t for the boy saving your butt and bringing you home. All I ask is you pee OUTSIDE. You don’t BARK the whole time you’re out there and looking at me like I am Cruelella. Also, might I add…QUIT CHEWING ON MY DAMN FLIP FLOPS! Quit eating crayons, Quit shedding ALL THAT HAIR ALL OVER MY HOUSE. Is it really asking that much?
    6. House, CLEAN YOURSELF! I’m tired of doing it. The kids are tired of doing it.
    7. The ‘boinging’ gas light in my car. QUIT BOINGING! I know, YOUR EMPTY. FILL YOURSELF UP YOU LAZY ASS CAR!
    8. Television, STOP WITH THE STUPID REALITY SHOWS! American Idol and Project Runway are the only two we need.
    9. Fat ass, SHRINK or spread the fat other places! Quit hogging all of it. Can you give some to my scalp or the bottom of my feet where no one can see it!!?? Selfish bastard!
    10. Laundry…you just need to stop.All of my ‘huffyness’ isn’t directed to anyone that reads my blog. Except the hate mail people. These are my everyday problems with my everyday people or objects.I know i’m going to get hatemail from the Laundry Advocates now.
  • Letters,  marina,  My Brats,  Random and Odd


    The month of February: 5 kids, 15 dentist appointments.

    It’s been a rough month for me as far as dealing with stress. It seems like when it rains, it pours.

    right now – you’re all shaking your head, ‘yep’ huh?

    That’s the part that gives you perspective. EVERYONE knows what it feels like and they all have a story to tell. Some people like to play the ‘mine is worse than yours’ game. We won’t be playing that here today.

    I actually deal with stress quite well. (My doctor doesn’t agree with that last statement though)
    I don’t panic or have a break down in the middle of it all. I manage to get through the stress, check for damages and then I go into ‘repair’ mode. Repair mode is me crawling in my bed, having 15 long anxiety attacks, crying until I have no tears left.

    My whimpering must have some sort of beacon/homing device because in the middle of it all, my sister will call me.
    Kathy is a Taurus, she’s a no-shit type of person, get your ass out of bed and get some perspective! She’s exactly what people need when they are starting to freak out. She’s the patron saint of the crazy people.

    Last night I was coming down from a anxiety attack when I thought about Kathy and how much it would suck if I were the older sister. She’s the rock, the centerstone of the masterpeice of our family. I don’t think I could handle that much pressure and responsiblity.

    Kathy’s word is the final say in everything. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t pack a gun like my brother the cop, or could snap you in two like my brother Jerry, or throw a pissy fit like my brother Michael…Kathy’s word is the law. What she says, goes.

    I know I always talk about how wonderful my sister is. Honestly, I don’t say it enough. “Thanks for dealing with shit” doesn’t seem like enough. When were together we joke, laugh and catch up…but here on my blog is where I can give her comforting hugs and pretend that it’s enough.

    Alyx is going to follow in my sister’s shoes. She already is the ‘go to’ kid when something needs to be worked out. Shea is just like me, the little sister that looks to her big sister to make sure everything is okay.
    Shea always comes up with these big plans and Alyx just looks at her and says, “that’s not going to work, but it’s a good idea.”

    My sister gives me that look over the phone. I can hear it…and you know what?

    She’s always right.

  • Anxiety,  Letters,  My Brats


    When I was 18 years old I became a step parent.

    This was one the hardest roads I would ever have to take. I questioned if I would be able to do it. Honestly, I think I did a crappy job of it.

    I was selfish. Being #2 in someone’s life wasn’t something I was comfortable being.

    Those first few years were the hardest. I thought I was doing the right thing by everyone, but the reality of it was I was hurting my ex, his son and his son’s mother. I didn’t want him to be walked on and I fought and pushed him to stand up for himself.

    I wasn’t ready to step back and let him form the relationship he needed to form on his own.
    “You need to do this…You need to that…”

    I use to say, “i’m not trying to be his mother.” but the reality was, I wanted that. I wanted to be his mom. Sometimes it wasn’t enough just being a step-mom. I regret that, because my actions were selfish and immature. Ryan had a mother and even if I didn’t believe in the things she said and did, It wasn’t my place to push and pull.

    I’m sorry Kiddo. I’ve always loved you Ryan. You taught me more things about myself than I ever thought I could learn.

    It wasn’t until last year in the car ride home from Marine World that we had the first real conversation in the 14 years I’ve been apart of your life. I guess I never really knew you. I never thought to ask you what you thought, because I was afaid of what you would say.

    Now, now that your dad and I aren’t together and i’m moving into a different part of my life, I realize how much I’m not ready to let you go as my step son. You prepared me for the person I am today. I want to joke with you and connect with you so I don’t lose you forever.

    I hope that someday we can sit down and you can tell me everything you have stored up in your head and heart. I think I might be mature enough to hear it now.

    I’m proud of you. I am so proud that you became the person you are despite everything you’ve been through, heard and seen. You’re smart, loving and damn funny.

    Happy Birthday Kiddo.

    and happy birthday to one of the greatest friends we both share, Chelsea.
    My beautiful friend, Lisa did a bang up job as a mother to raise someone that is a role model to every person that she comes in contact with. She’s my role model too.

    Must be something about people born the day after Valentine’s Day…they have all the left over love cupid didn’t use.

  • Letters

    An Open Letter…

    Dear Brutha in the early 90’s midnight blue Mustang on Interstate 5,

    I’m guessing that when you pulled up RIGHT on my ass when we were caught in slow traffic, you didn’t know you would scare the living bejesus out of me. That’s okay, I just didn’t see you fly up on me…it happens.
    When you kept riding my ass for 3 miles knowing I was caught behind a redneck in Taurus and 4 18 wheelers it started to bug me, but I was listening to Carly Simon and didn’t let it bother me.
    When you rode up RIGHT under my bumper and then swerved between the two eighteen wheelers and blew past the redneck and weaved back into traffic causing everyone to have to slam on their brakes…you then pissed me off.
    It’s okay…there were lots of thing you didn’t know about the mild mannered, middle aged woman in the 05′ Mustang.
    I’m sure you didn’t know that in my collection of 70’s music I had AC/DC’s Highway To Hell tucked in there.
    I’m sure that you didn’t know I can read facial expressions and the Redneck said with his eyebrows, “You ain’t really gunna let that bastard get away with that?”
    I’m pretty sure you didn’t know that even though my hair was pulled back in a bun, when the clippie comes off I am a bad ass mutha fucker with horse power under the hood.
    I’M 100% sure you didn’t know I am an Aries and I always have to win.
    So when the traffic cleared and I caught up with you doing 85 mph and I slowed down and smiled at you, i’m sure you didn’t know that if I just give the gas a tiny little bit of pressure I could be doing 120 mph in 5 seconds flat.

    I’m sorry if I made you look like a total idiot to the woman in the seat next to you.

    There’s a few other things I’m pretty certain you didn’t know about me either. When you caught up with me 10 miles up the road and I was doing 72 mph and you pulled up next to me, you didn’t know that I had switched to the calming tunes of Al Green. When you tried to egg me into racing you again you didn’t know that I have driven 1-5 for the last 15 years 4 times a month.

    You didn’t know that there is always a cop on the on ramp of the rest area about 2 miles up the road.
    Did you know that all traffic fines are doubled in construction zones?

    It’s okay, you can have the last laugh…

    Did you know that in a couple of hours I have to hand the keys back to the nice guy at Hertz and get back into my minivan?

    I didn’t think so.

    Best of Everything,

    The woman in the BAMF Mustang on 1-5.