Here it goes, i guess

I  have another blog{one that i have neglected lately, like big time}in which I post about my happy life{only family from afar reads it or even knows of it}. Because my life is....happy. I think. I have kids that I adore, I'm married to a man who works hard, provides for us. We have a nice home, with a big screen tv...ha!right, if only those material things made ya happy, I have no doubt then I would be a very  happy person. But those things are not the things that make ya happy, & we all know it. My kids. My kids make me happy. They stress the hell out of me at times, but mostly I feel pure joy around them & have since the very first moment they arrived inside my belly. Love. Love makes me happy. But I have big issues with love..from way back... Like I'm talkin childhood issues, friends. Nothing overdramatic, or horrible, just a lot of stuff that doesn't make sense...It all come out here, wait for it...Since becoming a mother I have found my self haunted by weird ass memories that really do not add up to me. My parents are the very tight lipped catholics, & somehow have managed to wear rose colored glasses during my childhood & never have any clue what I am talking about when I try & air a little dirty laundry to figure some shit stuff out. They deny. It's easier for me them to do that. I get that. But it's not easier for me. And I need to start dealing with it. This is what this blog will be for me. 8 minutes to write, bring up, vent, whateverthehellitisthatwillwork, I will try & do it on this blog. For 8 minutes. Then I am going to let it go. Move on. Leave it here instead of my in soul where it is harming me. Leave it for someone to read if they like, mostly i'm leaving it to validate myself, somehow. To live as a complete person, on the happy side:)

*****If at any time anyone is reading & something clicks with them, please let me know. And if you ever need 8 minutes to do or say whatthehellitisthatwillwork then they space is for you too. Much love.