constant flux

As I watch one of my favorite shows- 48 hours- I think "why do I watch this stuff". It is generally about real life documentary type show about murders or kidnappings. I always wonder why I am obsessed with this show, amongst others just like it. There is one on the Oxygen channel called "Snapped". When I was pregnant with Ashlee Morgan, I watched 48 hours all of the time, as it came on so many channels throughout the day. I was so down and out during pregnancy that I had nothing better to do than watch shows about murders. I think I'll place the blame on my mom who raised me on 20/20, Oprah, and Donahue. It is self induced sadness that I've learned to freakishly control any tears that might come to a normal person. However, put me in front of Extreme Home Makeover and I'm like a faucet. That show never fails to humble me. Once in a while it hits close to home. I too know what its like to be cold at night, bugs crawling around and no food in the house. I always say people wouldn't believe some of the stories I could tell. I take requests and I promise real life is better than fiction. The shows about children are so heart killing that I really question myself. What good intended person would torture themselves with this kind of "what if it happened to me?". I love my babies like I love oxygen. Sometimes I resent when people accuse me of not having enough time away from them. I can only agree that I need more date nights, but not vacations away from my girls! I mean, can you blame me--- I have diaries upon diaries where I am complaining all through childhood saying I was not getting enough time from my mother. I didn't understand her mental illness and the other accommodating factors. She loved me so much. I was like a prize she won at a carnival. I knew it at age 7 and I know it now. Her girls, Kristyn and Candice were the most successful moves she made. So I think overall the public who wants to believe I'm a normal, suburban mom, probably needs to just gain some insight that being separated from my girls is just not a healthy option. I remember B's first day of mommys day out last year. I was preg. with Ashlee and I dropped B off and all she saw was a smile on my face. The second I got out of the door, tears were streaming down my face, and by the time I got in my car, I was gasping. I knew I'd be just fine. I knew this was a healthy move for both of us. She needed to learn to socialize and some early academics and about the bible, and I needed to learn that I was still a good Mommy even when we were a part. She is set for an overnight visit with a grandparent soon. Of course I get a little sad, but not in an unhealthy way. I encourage her to have a blast and promise her the moon upon getting her back. She is so loved, I know this. I guess my overall fear is that someday I will be without them. I'll turn in to the cat lady as Michael still escapes via technology. I guess this is why I always want stuff on my plate. This explains the Masters Program I'm in. I pray all of the time that it does not defeat me and that I am strong enough to succeed. Of course, all along, I am thinking, this is for my mother. Could she, would she possibly believe the baby girl she brought home to her trailer home in East Fort Worth is a decent human being, and successful too, oh my. Do I dare think she has angels or other deceased people to brag to? Is it sick to think about? Well truthfully, my family fills me up plenty, especially Michael. He stays on me about my school work like a Catholic school nun. How can I do bad when he gets so excited to see me do well? I also want to show my girls what someone can go through and how choices and decisions lead us to our destinies, cheesy, I know, but truth in it. I don't always make good decisions. My guess is that once a day I make a questionable decision-- about anything- an action, a word, gossip, eating, etc.....If there is one thing I am not, it is perfect and I'm not striving for someone else's life. I can talk a lot of crap but at the end of the day, its me alone with my thoughts. I have so much work to be done. The relocation has put me in a state of such flux that I am uncomfortable everywhere. I think home is dfw and then I get here and I get sick for my house, my bed, my Michael. I miss my routine with it all. So right now, I am unsure where my future home and I don't care that I don't know. Happiness must present itself in its raw form wherever I live.