Sugar Daddy or Little Ol' Lady??? Help Google!

I've always teased that I need a Sugar Daddy but lately, I've been almost serious! Tonight as I was trying to stretch my dimes into TEN dollars in the budget, I thought maybe I could do a Google search for a little old lady that has extra money to spare. If she knew how hard we try and we still can't seem to make it, maybe she'd be willing to spare a little. I'm not asking for lots. Literally. It's amazing how just 4 digits would help keep my head above water, save me some embarrassing phone calls, and keep me kinda happy. The stress that money brings is just beyond crazy! I have been taught not to tell family secrets but I have to get this off my chest so I can sleep. And I kind of see this as my journal, so . . .

I hate avoiding phone calls - afraid it's bill collectors.

I hate telling my kids "sorry, can't afford that" for even the smallest of items and sometimes necessary things

I hate being so nice and allowing students to pay late, knowing that I will not be able to make my own bills on time

I hate being so accommodating with my students needing time off for shows, that I lose the income while they do

I hate not being able to meet friends for lunch or even just a soda because I don't have a dollar to spare

I hate not having a chance to even go on a date with my husband because money is so tight

I hate. I HATE. I HATE!!

Sometimes I just want to give up!! I can't always rob Peter to pay Paul. I'm beginning to stress over Christmas that's coming. We NEED this new job and we need it NOW!! Why aren't they calling? Why are they dragging their feet?? Come on already! Help us out!!

Ok - I'm done ranting. Well, probably not, but I'm hoping my next post will be HAPPY!! It has to be, right?? So if anyone knows a little old lady (I think that might be better than a Sugar Daddy, don't you?) - pass her my name!

Here's hoping for a money tree to grow in my backyard tomorrow!

My Wonkavator at Ground Zero!

**DISCLAIMER : This is in NO WAY meant to make light of or poke fun at our remembrance of Sept 11th.**

"An elevator can only go up and down, but the Wonkavator can go sideways, and slantways, and longways, and backways and frontways and squareways and any other ways that you can think of!"

My emotions this week have been on a Wonkavator! ALL OVER THE PLACE! One minute loving my life, one minute hating it. Yet another I feel I'm making the wrong choices and yet another I'm thrilled with way things are going and where they are headed. I know I should be happy with what I've chosen and if not, then I need to make the changes needed. However, I don't think it's because of the choices, but the change. I didn't think change was a big deal to me but because so many things are changing so fast, I'm feeling like I'm standing in mud in a rainstorm - slip sliding and fishtailing as I go. Almost unsure of my ground and if I'm heading in the right direction.

"The term ground zero (sometimes known as surface zero or zero point) is used to describe the point on where an explosion occurs. It is also used in relation to disasters to mark the point of the most severe damage or destruction."

Am I damaged? Did I have an explosion? Not literally . . . but . . . my heart is hurting. Aching if you will. I'm not afraid to cry. I cry A LOT! I cry if I'm happy, if I'm worried, if I'm upset and even if I'm mad. I cry during commercials, music (duh!), when I talk to friends, when I'm alone mopping my floor. I'm just an emotional and very "deep-thoughted" person (is that even a word?) who wears her heart and feelings on my sleeve. And lately my emotions have been very HIGH! I can read a scripture and become overwhelmed with emotion. I can see a friend and just want to hug them and tell them how much I love them. I see my kids giggling and laughing and talking at the kitchen table eating dinner and/or working on homework, helping each other and my eyes well up. I know nothing is particularly 'wrong' with me but I can usually keep my tear ducts in check. Not so lately.

I have a pretty close knit family. My sisters (all 5 of us) and my brother can talk about anything. My favorite thing to do is talk to them - sitting around a table. We tease, we laugh, we do get serious (sometimes) and we share. Lately I've felt a little pulled away or the desire to just lash out and tell to leave me alone. I appreciate their concern and their input about us not moving but they don't see my bank account, they don't see the tears I cry over not being able to make our bills, they don't see the heartache of my husband, who feels he can't provide a decent living for his family, they aren't here when the power goes out because we couldn't pay the bill on time, they don't see the tears from my kids who don't want to go to a birthday party without a gift in hand or can't go to an activity with friends because I don't even have $10 to send with them.

WE HAVE TO MOVE IF A JOB TAKES US THERE!!

Why is that so hard to understand?? Why is that so hard to support?

I love you, too. But families are forever! I can live in a neighboring state and still call, still come home for holidays and since work will pay more, I'll be able to visit. I truly love you but please try to understand.

And another thing:

Why am I doubting my decision to stop doing theatre - PAYING theatre - to be home like the prophet and Bishop have asked? I NEED to be here with my family! I have prayed so very hard and so very long about this. I have cried so many tears, yelled at myself alone in the house, and just slept the afternoon away because of my doubts. The Lord wants me HOME - why doesn't Obama or the economy or society, for that matter?? Why is Satan working so hard to make my choice harder than it should be? Pardon me, but DAMN HIM! Damn him to hell and back! Leave me alone to my sweet husband and children! Let us be happy in our normal sized home but allow us to have power. Allow us to have just a little extra so that we can have smiling kids. We're not asking to be millionaires - just be comfortable. Not feeling like we're wearing shoes that are too tight or have holes in our pockets. LEAVE ME ALONE!!

*DEEP SIGH*

WOW! That felt good! I have plenty to more I could say but why? The doubt is "his" doing, not mine! I'm happy with what I've chosen - I CAN WALK AWAY WITH MY HEAD HELD HIGH!

I CAN DO THIS!

I WILL DO THIS!!

HAPPY FRIDAY EVERYONE!!

I've suffered enough . . .

Now do they need to?

Recently, I have suffered for choices I made years ago. I choose, not really by my own doing, to return to work about 10 years ago. Geoff had lost his 2nd job in 2 years and we were stressing financially. He decided to return to school but I knew that I would need to work to make it through . . . especially with 4 kids!

We were blessed by the way work came our way. I found a job teaching at a local performing arts studio almost instantaneously, which in turn helped me to return to teaching full-time very quickly. I had a full studio in no time and started filling my time with lots of students and in turn . . . more money!

One evening I went to see a student in a show. Afterwards I was visiting with new friends and was offered an opportunity to music direct a show. I obliged and that was the start of a fruitful, yet LONG 5 years of shows and students that filled my time, day and night.

I was able to pay bills but eventually I wore down. I had lost so much time and memories with my kids . . . for what? I know, I paid my bills and we survived. But I wonder . . . was it really worth it all??

I gave up so much that I will NEVER get back. And I'm suffering for it . . . or at least I think I am. I am trying to rebuild my relationship with each kid. They are "relearning" what I expect of them, they are adjusting to the fact that I am home, I'm adjusting to the fact that I am home. We have had to adjust all over!

"Do I miss it?" I get asked this a lot. "You are too talented to stay away." Thanks but no thanks. I have suffered by way of emotion and loss of what I cannot get back, that I have to stop and think . . . I've suffered, do they need to as well?

I think the answer is a simple . . . no.