My Boyfriend

I took this picture about halfway up Pikes Peak mountain right after one of the switchbacks, which was super stupid seeing as I could have been hit by a car barreling down the mountain, but totally & completely worth it!

Today was cloudy and overcast. There was a bite to the air that can only be explained by the damn humidity in Texas. I'm saddened to say that my first thought looking out the window this morning was, 'It's gonna Snow!!!!!" Then it hit me. No snow. Not here. Not real snow. Not ever.
I miss it. I miss my mountains. All summer, I could pretend that this was just a side-trip. But, we're coming up on Thanksgiving and my kids haven't even worn jackets to school yet. Days like this in the Springs meant one thing. Snow. Whether it was a few inches or half a blizzard. The overcast sky rarely meant rain this time of year. If the mountains were 'invisible' you could bet money & win every time.

When I was 18 a couple friends and I decided to move to Panama City Beach, Fl. We made our move right around Spring break, and entered into a party atmosphere the likes of which I've never experienced since.
We lived in a beach house on a street called Front Beach Road. If you've ever been to PCB, you know that Front Beach is the main through way to all the hottest clubs. It was like watching a parade each night, and we'd sit on our balcony and hoot & holler at all the cute guys driving by. I worked at a shop called "Purple Haze" which was also right across the street from the beach. Lunch breaks were spent tanning and work meant flirting with tourists.
A single 18 year old living on the beach with her two best friends, working at one of the coolest stores in town, and partying all night with amazing people...I hated it.

Don't get me wrong, it was an experience I'll never forget and memories were made that I'll cherish forever. But, I'm a mountain girl at heart. Hot weather, and humidity drive me to distraction. As much as I loved my time spent in Florida (2 other loooooooooong vacations since then) to me, the ocean will never compare to a mountain. The view from the top of Pikes Peak, the smells driving through Pike Nat'l Forest, the way you can stand in 2 feet of snow and not feel a chill as long as the sun is shining...

And then, there are the people. Texans are friendly, yes. But DF-Dub is full of pretentious a$$holes, and I happen to look like one of them. People are intimidated by me, and consequently don't make the move to come talk to me. They mistake being shy for being stuck-up. (And, I'm probably guilty of doing the same to them)
Colorado is full of hippies. It's rare to see a woman dressed to the nines at the grocery store, and inhibitions be damned. People talk to you out there. For no reason. Maybe it was the military town, the people who understand Carpe Diem. You may not have another chance to meet that person, she may be gone next week. Either introduce yourself and make a lifelong friend, or watch her husband get transferred to Alaska and kiss that chance good-bye.

I've lived in Texas for the majority of my life. I've traveled a lot, and moved around as much as possible for someone raising children. But, my heart has been in Colorado since I first vacationed there at 23. From the first moment I laid eyes on Cheyenne Mtn, and Pikes Peak right next(ish) to it, I knew that that was where I wanted to call 'home'. At the time, I was working for a law firm in Dallas. They were paying me way too much money, so I eventually packed up ship and moved to the mountains that had been calling my name for a year. I never regretted it.

When I told my Mother that I was leaving my husband, and therefore would be moving back to Texas, her first concern was; "I'm afraid you'll miss the mountains too much and cause even more misery for yourself"
And, I do. Not to the point that I'm miserable, because they surely will be there when I go back. That's the beauty of being in love with a mountain rather than a man. Pikes Peak will never leave. He will always be standing in the last place I saw him. He may be wearing a green sweater, or a brown one, or a white one...but he'll be there. Standing tall in all his glory, welcoming me back to the Springs.

Here & Gone

It's over. Emotional Roller Coaster... I'm gonna make a song out of that.

I don't know where or how to start. The X called last Tuesday to say he wasn't going to be able to make it. The Army changed his schedule again, and he didn't have anyone to cover down for him.
Breathe. Sigh. Get upset. Get over it.
Cut to Thursday. My phone rang 4 times while I was conferencing with a client online. Finally answer it. The X wants to know if I'll "be around" later. Cause he's in the car. On the way. Here.
Panic. Breathe. Get annoyed. Get the house clean.
It was strange. Beena didn't know who he was or why he kept trying to hold her and kiss her. She's gone through a stage of calling every male she sees "Daddy"... so it wasn't hard for her to call him by name.

Grrr. I just can't deal with him. He IS an emotional roller coaster. While he was here, it was all about Beena. Heartfelt conversations about how much he's missed out on. How much he's missed her. Then he's gone and..just, gone. No phone calls. No emails.
His attention span is that of a 5 year old child.

The VA is requiring him to be treated for PTSD in order to receive disability for his injury. Thank you VA!!!!!!!!!
It's about time that someone else recognized the need for treatment. I'm a bit infuriated that his wife wasn't listened to during the crash of our marriage. The phone calls to his commanders that went ignored, meetings with chaplains where promises were made that never came to fruition, letters to the FRG, and Post Commander that wasted my time and brain power...
He's also being treated for something else that I'd always thought was Sergio's way of 'getting out of it'...
Apparently, there really is some short term memory loss. I can't tell you how many fights started with, "But, I told you..."
So, on that one I'll say this, "My bad"

We dressed Beena up in her Steelers outfit and bought 4 huge bags of candy in anticipation of the neighborhood hordes showing up. The older Turkeys went to their Dad's where all 4 of them dressed as pirates. (Much as I hate to admit it...they were a cute 'lil pirate family!)
Sergio left at about 8 pm after getting a phone call from the soldier who was covering his shift. Apparently, the guy's wife can't stand S. and wasn't losing her husband on his day off for him. (Ya, I've been there) So, he had to make a mad dash back to Colorado in order to get a few hours sleep before he had to work a 24 hour shift.

And, just like that...it was over. I was left with a baby dressed up for Halloween, and no-one to take her trick or treating. (I have a real problem with an empty house on Halloween night...I feel like I'm disappointing children and it hurts my heart too much to swallow.)
So, Beena and I danced around the living room, played our music waaaaaaaaaaaay too loud, and Mommy had waaaaaaaaay too much (really good) wine.
We didn't get a single trick-or-treater. I guess all the kids in the neighborhood knew that The A's were going to be in Flower Mound and didn't think (?) I'd have candy. We passed out goodie bags when the older Turkey's got home to make up for it, which saved my Mommy Soul.

Last night, my baby boy came into my room about an hour after he'd gone to bed. He was crying gut-wrenching sobs, and told me he wanted to move back to Colorado. He misses his friend, he hates it here.
We talked for a while about what it would mean if we were to move back to CO. We'd lose the friends we'd made here (ok, so I meant them...it's not as though I've really branched out). We wouldn't be as close to his Dad and the weekend visits would come to an end, and his friend (darling Gabriel) is an Army Brat...which means his life in Colorado is tenuous at best. They could be transferred at any moment with no choice but to go where the Army sends them. Just like we were when we were Army Brats.
I moved the wii to his bedroom last night because he wanted to play the new Lego Indiana Jones game, and Turkey #1 wanted to watch election updates (seriously. She's that cool!) and that triggered his memories of hanging out with Gabriel. (The pic is of Gabriel & his sister Jade) Gabe & his family lived next door to us on post. The place where my nightmares came true. I went through hell there and his Mother held me up. Her name was Maritza, and I miss her as much as my boy misses Gabriel.

Life changes and we evolve into adults based on how we react to those changes. My job is to steer my children in the direction that I hope they'll take. I hope the Turkey takes the memory of a wonderful childhood friend, and maybe this is a friendship that can last throughout the years. Maritza and I exchange emails and IM fairly often...without a doubt, it's time to get the boys in on the mix instead of just calling him in when I get a funny picture of G.

And now...its back to the grind. I'm SICK of log...wood...the color brown...google...and hello???? $50 for rights to use an image I can make with photoshop??? Jeez. Guess I'll spend 34 hours glued to that program tonight a$$wipes.

My website is up and running, albeit unfinished. Payge Diana Designs
Comments? Suggestions?

A decade of friendship & Tums

This is Erin. Isn't she a cutie-patootie?





This is her son, Tyler. He's too much for words! Just smile, cause that's how he makes you feel.




Tyler & Beena Baby (aka Demon child, aka Turkey #3) are getting married. NO. Not now. We're going to let them wait until they're old enough to at least understand that their Mothers are forcing an arranged marriage on them simply to satisfy our need to actually be related after all these years.

Erin & Tyler were visiting from beautiful Rifle, Colorado. She and I have known each other since long before Tyler or Corrina were even considered. Long before either of us were ever married, long before 9/11, the War on Terrorism, Long before Britney was a SuperStar!!!

She's been my rock when I thought I had nothing left, and her soothing words have gotten me through many a moment that I simply couldn't see past, and I love her like a sister. At times, I feel really alone on my journey here...and she's one of the people I turn to when the solitude starts eating at my sanity. She get's me through it by reminding me how great my kids are, how much she loves each one of us, and how proud she is of me for standing up for what I believe in and taking this huge risk. When other people look at me like I'm crazy for leaving my gorgeous husband with a good job, secure benefits, and such a happy-go-lucky outlook on life...Erin reminds me that the happy-go-lucky included days where the children and I ate nothing but MRE's because he'd spent another paycheck at a ski resort and partied his woes away.
She doesn't let me feel sorry for myself, but reminds me that I made the right decision for us.

Without people like Erin, and my Jen-nay...and my Mommy, I'd have given up. I would have crawled under my bed with a bottle of Jagermeister and allowed my husband to run us so far into a financial hole that we'd never see the light again. Erin is my "responsible angel"
When I told her that my utility bill was $420 she immediately started crunching numbers and looking online to find out why. And how we could get it down. Not me. WE. (I keep my thermostat down...My bill is actually one of the lowest that I've heard of around here. It's scary)
Letters to governors, calling the power company....that girl was on it. And, she was on vacation.
See, I was just going to pay the sucker and call it even. Not Erin. No way. Hu-uh!

We also spent hours in the kitchen cooking, taste testing, throwing calories out the window willy nilly! It was wonderful and great and fattening and perfection. I think we used 2 entire bags of sugar and over 3/4's of a large bag of flower. 2 dozen eggs, and we cleaned out the fruits & veggies at the Farmers Market. Then we ate it. All of it. Then we ate some Zantac. Then we slept in the same bed and told ghost stories by candlelight and giggled until the sun came up.
If you haven't had a sleepover with a best friend in a while, I highly recommend it! There's no better therapy!




I love you Erin! You are the bomb dot com. And, I am not Lame dot net.

Two Wheels Move the Soul & Hurt my Bum

I'm getting tricked into a 3 hour motorcycle ride tomorrow. Could be fun. A good friend of mine has been using my garage for the past week to restore a wrecked Ducati Monster 7-something, I don't really know.
Now, I'm all up for an hour or so on the back of a bike cruising down the open road with mountains and rivers surrounding you in their nurturing cocoon. But....but...but....

It's HOT. And, HUMID. And did I mention DF-Dub? Um. Traffic out the wazoo. Semi-Trucks & Corvettes doing 120 are NOT my idea of a nurturing cocoonish type experience. I want to hear the sound of the Ducati revving up when it cruises up a mammoth hill. I do not want to hear 46 different radio stations blasting through the air at ear breaking decibels.
I want to rest my chest on the back of a guy I've known and trusted for longer than I can remember. I do not want to be looking around in fear at the thousands of vehicles rushing along beside me, around me, through me, and gripping said friends thighs while I battle a panic attack of epic proportions and my life flashes through my mind, and I pray that my babies will forgive me for being selfish enough to take an afternoon off.

So. Ya. I'm gonna go. Why? Because this friend saved me. Pulled me up when I was drowning and didn't even see the water rushing over my face. He found a beautiful house for my children and I (that I'm not starving to afford), gave me work through his company where I can keep my baby with me at all times, and smacks me around when I start whining that it's all too much. Dude keeps things in perspective. Dude would have a heart attack if he knew I called him "Dude"!

So, if he wants me to ride a Monster till my bum falls off. I will.

And, dammit. I'll like it.

Get your mind out of the gutter. A Ducati Monster. Motorcycle. You Dirty Bird.

Love & Sloppy Kisses

Coffee & Mountains with Papa

My Daddy just left from a (too, too short) 3 day visit. It was special to me because my Dad doesn't travel a whole lot. He goes to Padre Island when he wants a break, and rarely does anything else.

I guess I'm growing up, because my parents aren't really 'parents' anymore. They're my friends. The oldest, and best friends I have and I cherish every moment we get to spend together because they're too few and far between. My Dad's getting older, and he's not in the greatest of health. You know you aren't supposed to think about those things, but you do. You really can't help it when you see your Father opening 6-7 different bottles of pills every morning, to take with his coffee. It puts things into perspective. We discussed what should happen to my Grandmother, who's health/sanity is horrible but she refuses to move from her house. We talked about my Mother's parents, who aren't doing well right now. We talked about MY parent's impending move to AK, and the financial straights that's put them in... When did things like this become my business? Or rather...when did my opinion begin to count? And, do I really want my opinion to count? I'm not really sure I'm ready for this side of adulthood. Yet, there I was. Sitting on my back porch, drinking coffee and looking at Cheyenne Mtn with my Daddy...discussing the darker side of family life that was concealed from me until I was old enough to have a valid opinion of 'what should be done'.

I'm grateful for this visit. I'm so glad that I'll have the memories of taking my Dad through Garden of the Gods, and Helen Hunt Falls, and especially our drive to the summit of Pikes Peak. I see those things all the time, and the list of people that I can associate with my landmarks is growing, but I was able to add my Daddy to that list. I have to say, for now. That's my highlight. He'll always be able to say that the first time Corrina ever went to the summit, was with her Pawpaw. She wont remember, but you can bet that picture will be framed for her to keep forever.


P.S. This was an old post from another blog ~ Before life went crazy and I moved back to DF-Dub