We...

I'm human. I make mistakes. This crazy life of ours does not come with an instruction manual. What the shit?! So I just gotta stumble through not having answers as to what to do with it. I gotta figure it out on my own. I repeat, what the shit?! Couldn't it have at least come with some frakkin Cliff Notes?!

We scrape
We crawl
We climb
We fail
We hurt
We cause hurt
We dream
We bleed
We laugh
We fail again
We rise
We offend
We play
We love
We cry
We are flawed
We learn
We grow
We fail yet again
We judge
We label
We blame
We have blame placed
We are misread
We misread
We question
We believe...

All of these things have one fundamental thing in common.......We.

And not a single one of us gets out alive, so I will choose to live my life out loud and raw. I make that choice every day. For those of you who read my blog post, I am thankful. Thing is, I would write it regardless, because someday, my kids will read it. How my days were while they were growing up. Thoughts and feelings and experiences that happened during a time in their lives when they were too young to understand.

I'm gonna go home now, crawl into bed and try to let go of the ugly of today. I will then at some point open my eyes and do some or all of the above things again. Wanna know a secret?  So will you.

Shenanigans and Such...

We have a pool out on our deck. The deck itself is rather large, and a great sanctuary. Last week my bestie informed me, "Just so you know your deck is my favorite place on the planet." High praise considering all of the amazing places this world has to offer, and also knowing her office, known as The War Room, is also a great sanctuary. That room is where she writes and often times is the bithplace of our Shenanigans. Speaking of which, had I not been alone outside this afternoon, the following incident would have fallen under that category.

Before I go float in the pool, I clean it out. It only stands about waist on on me, and is really meant for the kids, but GREAT for just chillin in. I turn my mp3 player on and get my much needed dose of vitamin D. This pacific islander's blood needs sun.

Today, I had the net and I was scooping out leaves and dead bugs and whatnot. Leaning over the pool I was determined to get a flower that was quickly floating to the other side of where I was standing. You all know where this is going. I leaned a bit too far, lost my balance and promptly fell into the pool. Thankfully I already had my suit on and there won't be any bruises....as far as I know, but I bruise easily so we'll see. The incident woulda been funny shit had I not been by myself. It is well known that dancers are the clumsiest people on the planet when not on a dance floor.

Moments that make me and Mel laugh or things that we believe will make others laugh, we refer to as Shenanigans. More often than not, said moments are elevated anytime we go on a road trip. Even more so though, is a road trip that involves NKOTB in some way shape or form. When traveling to concerts out of town we normally give a name to our expeditions. Last summer when we went to Hammond, the trip was entitled Project Runaway (You know like Project Runway?). Traveling to Chicago for opening night of the tour was called The Bed Spring Tour, on account we slept on our friends pull out sofa and were almost eaten by the bed springs, and also, the tour started in the Spring.
The title of our boat experience will stay between me and Mel.

This Saturday, we will travel to Kansas City for *my* last concert experience of this tour (Mel will be going to the Columbus show without me). A bit nervous for this one, but I'll keep those reasons to myself as well. I'm also excited though, because not only will I FINALLY be close enough to catch confetti (which is sacred to BH's) we're bringing with us a friend who has not seen a NKOTB show since......1989. This will be quite an experience for her. I can safely say that my first show since the reunion was........life changing.

Anyway, Shenanigans will most likely ensue as this poor woman has never traveled with Lucy and Ethel before. Any prayers you wanna offer up for her to whatever, if any, God's you pray to, I'm sure can't hurt. I'd start now. lol

Although this trip is definitely going to be bittersweet for me, it will not be the end of road trips with my bestie. We have a wedding to go to in Chicago next month, and we'll be back in Chi for Rock the Block 3, and possibly the boat next year, and we're both trying to get our asses back to NYC permanently. Also, I'm planning a BH trip to Italy sometime soon. Hoping it will be an epic turnout. Mel wants to go somewhere this Fall and write for a couple of days, and since I'm always up for anything, that means I'll go with her. Who knows what the future holds, but it's gonna be a helluva good time.

I'm sure I will be blogging during the coarse of this weekend's road trip, that kicks off at 6AM Saturday morning. The title of this trip....... The Lioness, The Bitch, and the Clothes. ;)

I Am Here...

I am profoundly moved by music ( as noted in the post entitled My Life Has a Soundtrack). In all the songs that have come and gone there has never been a song that has said everything I feel....until now. (there's a link to hear it at the end of the post). Lyrics mean a great deal to me. Words. I stammer over them at times. I trip and fall all over myself when I get nervous. When I made the decsion to walk away from everything I've ever known, it was empowering and terrifying because I had to find the courage to speak. to find the words and the courage to face my fear. To stand up for myself. To find my voice.....MY voice.....and say Enough.

There is a picture in the background of my Twitter profile page. It's a picture of me in a long black coat. It was taken years ago, but it landed me a opportunity to sign with Elite. I was so excited for the opportunity! My dream of being able to live in NYC was finally gonna come true. But it never came to fruition. I was *told* that we would not be moving to NYC on the "off chance" that I "might" get work as a model. That because it wasn't an "actual" job we would not move our family, and there was no way he was going to raise "his" kids in NYC anyway.

I cried alone, in the precious hours of early morning when the house was asleep, every night for a week. Then, as I always did, I put the dream back on the shelf where I had pulled it down from, and buried it. I was not pretty enough to get work as a model. Let alone talented enough to work on Broadway. He was right, it was foolish for me to believe I could. He was my husband, I believed him. He had my best interests at heart....right?

This was my mentality every day for 15 years. Tonight Mel said to me, " I thank God every day for RCMH." This confused me, and she went on further and said, "If it wasn't for that night, you wouldn't have had the strength to make him leave." The truth is much more than that. I tried twice before, and wasn't strong enough. I didn't have the support system then. The confidence in myself that I could be anything more.

Ultimately, there is one defining moment that gave me hope that I could be more, do more. That I mattered. In that one small moment last summer, I met someone who for the first time in my life made me feel........beautiful.  It is the moments that matter. No matter how short. I do not take ANY of them for granted. and every "moment" since then plays in my head every day like a song. I see them all. I hold them close, and if I never have any more of them, although my heart holds out hope, it's okay. The memories I have make me feel beautiful all over again, which helps me believe in myself. Those "moments" have power.

I have had time to think about what *really* matters to me. What is it that is my purpose in this one precious life that I've been given. So much guilt passes through me on how much time I've wasted. I have to remind myself  EVERY day that the only thing that matters is today. If I wake up...then it's another chance for me to get it right, and I am thankful for the breath that allows me to try.

Mel has told me several times, "You are more than tutus and toe shoes." It's her way of telling me that she won't let me settle. I am thankful to have her in my corner......even though she's trying to shove me OUT of it. lol  My biggest fear has always been that I would not be remembered after I'm gone. I don't seek fame, for it is fleeting, and I don't seek money other than what I need to survive. All I want is to work hard, to use the gifts I have been given to the best of my ability, and to know that I mattered to someone. That I loved with everything I had and that love was returned, and it was blindingly beautiful and passionate and true. That I left something behind.

There was a saying written above the door of our H.S. choir room that has stuck with me all these years.

"The talent that you have is God's gift to you, what you do with it is your gift to God."

I am looking forward to the moments that finally allow me to share the gifts I have been given. Yes I have been through many different versions of hell in my 36 years, but whatever time God grants me to have left on this earth I will spend it being the best ME I can be. Through it all......I am alive, I am strong, I am beautiful, I am perfectly imperfect, I am free, I am standing.....I am here.

http://youtu.be/yPORjvHlMbU .....and yes....it's on my life's soundtrack. :)

Sleep is for Amateurs...

I've never been much of a sleeper. Some people can start to think about something, and allowing their mind drift, quickly fall asleep. Not me. I start to think about something then my brain gets too busy and keeps me awake. It usually takes me a good 45 minutes to fall asleep and when I do it is never for more than 4 hours at a time. I never sleep well the first night in a strange place and if I'm only staying in that place for one night? Fuhgeddaboudit. If I *do* manage to get a full 8 hours, it's never uninterrupted. Ever.

When I was little we lived in a small white house with a huge yard. We owned the lot next to us. I think at one time it was my parents dream to build on to the house. That never happened. Instead we ended up moving into a house that my Grandpa Leo built. They had moved down the street into a smaller home and we moved into their house. It's the house I spent my H.S. years in. The house we lived in prior to that is the one that holds happy memories. Well, mostly happy.

My two sisters and I shared the upstairs of the house. There weren't definitive rooms. Instead there was an alcove that my older sister used as her room and it was separated by a couple of sheer curtains. Then there was an open space with a wicker table and chairs and a long bookcase that served as a divider to the space that my younger sister and I shared. Our beds sat parallel to each other. They were meant to be bunk beds but the room had an A-frame ceiling and was too low to set them up that way.

My favorite part of the "room" was the window seat across from the foot of the bed. It had a light blue pleather cover and the window opened to a slanted roof where we would go out and sit sometimes at night. Well my sister Theresa, or T as we call her, would go out and sit. Most of the time I'd just swing my legs out the window. Heights and I aren't friends.

It seemed to me that we had an early bedtime in the summer because I remember it always being still light outside and it would drive me crazy, because if it was light outside then there was still time to do stuff outside. We would never go to sleep when we were supposed to. Instead we often times would play "sock baseball". We'd roll up socks and one of us would pitch and the other would whack it across the room with their hand. That was my favorite indoor game. Even at a young age, I was afraid that if I fell asleep I'd miss something good. lol

I didn't know it then but, those years trained me to be able to take care of my babies. Especially my son. When we arrived home from the hospital, I had no strength. I was exhausted and felt very alone. It was a happy time, for me and my son. But, I had no help. Oh his Father was there, annnnnd that's about it. My days were long and my nights were even longer. My son refused to sleep in a crib. The only way he'd fall asleep was was by laying on his belly against my chest. So most nights I'd just lay awake and listen to him breath while I sat propped up on pillows. His Father was impossible to wake up. If someone were ever to have broken in, it would be up to me to defend us. Not joking.

I tweeted the other day to Joe Mac. The guys had a couple of days off for the 4th and he had gone home to his wife and kids. Spent his first night with their new baby girl. I applaud him. As tired as all the guys are from this tour he still took care of his daughter. So when I said, " Hard working Dad,a job to get back to, and still takes care of his wife by taking care his child. Men like that aren't a myth?" I meant it. In my world, they are. Nothing is sexier to me than a guy who is so amazing to their kids. Even sexier is watching a man who is amazing to kids that are not his own but belong to the woman that he loves. My bestie has that now and I am thankful she has him. My friend Sherri has found an amazing man like that and will solidify their family soon.

Mel asked me not that long ago why is it I can't sleep and have I always been that way? My answer was that I've always been that way, but really started the day my son was born. Drives her crazy though because not only am I a night owl, I'm also a morning person. I don't wake up grumpy. Even if I have a migraine. And once I'm awake, I'm up. I can't go back to sleep. It sucks during those rare moments when a miracle occurs and I sleep straight through a whole 6 hours. It's like an eclipse. The last time that happened? January. Mel and I were in NYC for a week. If she wasn't there to have witnessed it, I don't think anyone would've have believed me. 

When we were on the NKOTB cruise, this past past May, there were deck parties every night and after that we would go and have ice cream at 4A.M. with our friend Roxi. We would get passing comments throughout the day, such as "I can't believe you two were STILL dancing. You closed it out every night. Did you even sleep." First of all, get me on a dance floor and you're gonna have to pry me off of it. Unless the DJ sucks. *raising eyebrow* lol I'll stay, but I just might not dance as much.

Little did I know then, that had I not stayed up all those nights as a child, I would not have had the stamina to stay awake with my son, nor the stamina to have the schedule I did all winter, and I definitely wouldn't have the stamina to go all night on a deck, on a boat, in the middle of the ocean for four nights straight. Of course it helps when you love who you go all night with. When you have that, the time goes by way too fast. ;)

So I call those early years of my life "training". I'm "pro" now baby! lol I smile at those nights as a kid sitting on my window seat, and playing "sock baseball" with my kid sister. I was right you know.......if I go to sleep......I'll  miss something good. :)

This Moment's Peace...

I had a job interview yesterday. Is it my idea of a dream job? Nope. Is it forever? Nope. Is it for right now? Yup. During this last year I went from 3 jobs down to one. The one I kept was that of a lunch room supervisor in a suburban middle school. One of my Aunts is a band director there and when she heard I was looking for something part-time she told me about the opening, I interviewed and was offered the job the same day.

Basically my roll was to make sure that the kids behaved in the lunch room and out at recess. There were good days and there were not so good days. My Twitter followers were around during the year to hear some of the stories about my days there. I had nothing to do with the food or food prep, so the lunch lady song didn't apply to me.

I have spent most of my life working with kids in some way shape or form. For those that don't know I'm a dance teacher by trade. (see post Why I Teach). I love kids. I relate to kids. I understand kids. The job I'm being considered for is at an indoor inflatable playground for kids. Otherwise known as "My bestie's worst nightmare". It was a good interview, and I like a challenge. It will definitely be that. I do not lack patience. If anything, I have too much sometimes. It has hurt me on occasion. I digress.

It's a management position, which is good on a couple of different levels. One, I have 15 years of retail management experience. Also, I don't do well with idle. The busier I am, the better.  And while Mom has ear plugs for me already, I welcome the noise. It keeps my mind busy. Sucks that adults can't go and jump around in the inflatables though, cause duuuude. How FREAKIN FUN WOULD THAT BE?!  (Yes, Mel... I'm THIS many! lol)

If I get this job, I won't be returning to the middle school. It's bittersweet, but right now I need more than part-time. I need to work and provide for my family. It's important to me. Not working since school has let out has killed me. Financially and physically. I have felt a lack of direction. Of no use, and a failure as a parent. I know they say men take great pride in being able to provide. A big part of their self worth comes from this. I think the same can be said for some women. I would be among those. I sent a tweet today that said, "We teach our children not only with words, but through our actions." My father may drive me crazy, but one of the things am proud of, is that through his actions he has taught me self discipline, and instilled a strong work ethic.

I am not one of those women who are in search of a "Sugar Daddy". Never have been. If I don't earn it, I don't want it. Which is also why I have such a big problem with feeling like a charity case. Very seldom do I ask for help. If I can't do it on my own, then I don't wanna do it. My stubborn pride gets in the way at times. Happens to us all I believe at one time or another.

Anyway, I got a call today and am going in on Sunday for a second interview. This is a good sign. And a step in the direction I want go. It's a job that puts me around kids, and that brings me joy. And it will help me provide for my kids, which is the bigger goal. Yes, their Father pays child support, but that covers what it it's supposed to and I want more for my kids. No I didn't ask for alimony, because I don't want a dime from him. I just wanted him to take care of his kids. Asking for alimony is just one more way he would have control over me. Unacceptable. Been there, survived that.

So yesterday was a good day. Today is a struggle, but my migraine finally went away and the night is young. Tomorrow? Well, I won't worry about that, because worrying about tomorrow's troubles only takes away from this moment's peace. *deep breath* Right now, in this very moment, I have that, and for now, it's enough. :)

The Rain...

The name of the grade school I went to was All Saints. It was an old building with it's own church on the same lot. It was a very small school that held grades K-8 in one building. I didn't go to Kindergarten there. My Dad was stationed in Germany then so I went to Kindergarten on the american base in Wiesbaden.

I graduated 8th grade with 7 other kids. Yup. That's right. There were 8 kids in our 8th grade class all together. Would you believe I still talk to most of them on occasion? I then went to Dowling Catholic High School with over 400 kids. Cutlure shock to this shy kid? That would be an understatement. I spent the first semester in various stages of panic. The last panic attack I had was the first time I seperated from my now ex. It was not pretty. I was on the phone with Mom at the time. She talked me through it. Not a memory I want to talk about so moving on...

Where I *was* going with this, was the first time I ever danced in the rain. I was in the third grade. My teacher's name was Sister Marie. She was one of the nicer nuns. It was Sister Francis that made a failed attempt at trying to get me to write with my right hand. She did get me to straighten out my left hand though. I don't write like normal southpaws. My hand doesn't curve. We can thank the ruler thwapping for that.

We were outside for recess one day, and it started to rain. To try and give you a visual, the church and the school sit parallel to each other with a wide slab of concrete between them. There was a box for four square and a couple of hop scotch areas and a jungle gym behind the church. On the other side of the school building was another big slab of concrete where we'd play all the games for P.E.. Tether ball, dodge ball, that big parachute thing, kick ball, etc. You weren't "supposed" to go over there during recess. *side eye*

Sooooo....when the rain started, guess where I was? I wanted to be able to dance where no one could see me. Now, keep in mind this was before I even started taking actual classes. I didn't want anyone to make fun of me, so I'd go off and dance where no one could see. Unbeknownst to me, when the rain started, Sister Marie stood in the doorway of the classroom ( Her room had it's own seperate entrance) and called all the kids in. Not entirely sure why she didn't find it odd at all that there was a child missing. lol

I remember so vividly this moment, that I can even tell you that I had on a knit rainbow striped top and that those stripes were horizontal and not vertical. I have no idea why I remember that detail, other than it was one of my favorite tops because the purple in it was the brightest color of all of the stripes. I was out by the tether poles dancing and singing when the rain started. I was so absorbed in what I was doing that I didn't realize that it was in fact raining. Then...it started POURING. Any normal third grade girl would run squealing inside. Not me. I've never really fit "the mold". I have ALWAYS been a misfit. Still am. Only now, people call it being a leader. I just call it being me.  A work in progress.

The second it started pouring.....I danced all over the entire black top, belting out Singing in the Rain. and the crowning moment was when I ran toward the tether ball pole, swinging around it like Gene Kelly. Then I splashed in 7, yes, 7 whole puddles! Working my way towards the church when all of a sudden I noticed there was no one else outside. Oops.

So I went back to the classroom and knocked on the door. Sister Marie opened the door, took one look at me, grabbed me by the arm and yanked me inside. The kids who weren't laughing were sinking into their chairs, embarassed for me. I didn't care. Up until that moment, I was the happiest kid on earth.

To this day......put me in the rain and let me dance.......and I'm the happiest kid on earth.

And the day I *finally* find someone who loves to dance in the rain as much as I do........I'll be the happiest woman on earth.




Note: I want to dance to this song with someone in the rain...... http://youtu.be/b1B5FP8LKlQ

Twice blessed....

For those of you reading these daily posts and who also follow me on Twitter, you may have heard me talk about my Mom. Some of you may also be slightly confused as my Mom passed away in 1990. In 1991 my Dad remarried. Didn't know it then, but this woman would end up being my saving grace in so many ways. While technically she is my Stepmom she has never been that in my heart. She is and will always be Mom. She has now been in my life longer than my real Mom was.

I have been at war with myself. We've well established that. For me, the only way for me to go....is through. That's how I've always been. It may be muggy for a while as I process things and turn things around and over in my head, but eventually I flip a switch, knock back into my heart and off I go. That's where I am now. Moving forward through my heart. And all it took was one email from my Mom to fill it up and send me moving again.

There are some who, if told, "You can't do that." They respond with a "Oh yeah, watch me." My daughter is that way. Ever since she was little the quickest way to get her to do something was tell her she can't do it.

Then, there are others who need the opposite kind of encouragement. "You CAN do it!" They respond with a "Are you sure? You really think so? OK!" That's my son.

I am somewhere in between. Some things make me say, " Wanna bet? Watch me." Then there are other things that make me say, " I don't think that's possible. Too many things working against me to try."

The following is the email convo I had with my Mom today. She still hasn't come home after walking out on my Dad on Monday. They're pulling a Ross and Rachel. "We were ON A BREAK!" lol Her response is why she is so AMAZING and how easily she can make everything OK. (Blue is her favorite color so she always responds in blue. )

From: Schuler, Jenny
Subject: how you doin'?
To: Ann Marie
Date: Wednesday, July 6, 2011, 2:48 PM

From: Ann Marie Thomas
Sent: Wednesday, July 06, 2011 3:01 PM
To: Schuler, Jenny J
Subject: Re: how you doin'?

Well other than being broke and feeling like an utter failure in the parenting department, I'm golden. My resume is now being revamped by my friend Jenn in NYC. I'm fairly certain the fact that it sucks is why I can't even get an interview anywhere. I have a blog, but just this week I decided to write everyday. Last night's entry was about the trip Theresa and I took to Boston with Dad. It made me realize even more than I did before that I have always been a big city East Coast girl. So, as terrifed as I am, I'm continuing to look out there for work. I have no idea what I'm gonna do if I find something, but they always say you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take. Part of me, is afraid that I won't find something here OR there, but my heart and gut tell me that's where I'm supposed to be. If I keep ignoring my heart like I have for the last, oh I don't know 15 years or so, I'm never gonna get to where I'm meant to be. And I don't just mean location. Does that make any sense? It's Mel's bday today, so Jen and I took her to Mama Laconas last night. It was fun. Haven't said a whole lot to Dad. How are you? Wednesday, July 6, 2011 3:32 PM From: "Schuler, Jenny" To: "'Ann Marie Thomas'" You’ve always been an East Coaster, I saw that when you were 16, you just didn’t have the “life” experience to survive there, then. NOW YOU DO!!! So go for it!!!!! When you find something if I can help figure out the details with you, I will!! Being broke, hey it’s easier to balance your check book! This comes and goes, don’t beat yourself up. And Parenting….the word failure was invented so we could describe how we feel sometimes, but this too, passes and somehow they still love ya!!! J I’m fine, actually kind of enjoying the “break”. If I didn’t live just two blocks from Mom it wouldn’t even look weird, so my story is I’m there for a visit and I’m sticking with it!! When I do come home, and I will, the first Sunday family dinner will be a BD party for Mel, my other daughter. See you can feel like a failure as a parent and then all of a sudden everyone wants to be your kid…go figure!! Now, stop picking on yourself, and go dance in the yard!!!!!!! Love ya Momma So.......NYC it is! :) Am I scared? Damn straight. Will it stop me? Not this time. In my life to have two amazing women I could call Mom and for another chance at making a long lost dream a reality? Twice blessed indeed. I don't know where it will take me, but It's gonna be one helluva a story one day. ;)