I Have Arrived...

I have arrived.  It's been a long road.  And winding.  And surely the one less traveled.  I've sprinted and crawled.  I've been pushed and pulled.  But I?  Am a better person for it.

I have arrived.  At a point in my life where the bullshit doesn't matter.  I don't care what you think or what you say.  Not even who you are.  It doesn't matter to me.  And I'm okay with that.

I have arrived.  At a place where the vision in my rear view mirror is 20-20.  I can see where I've been.  I like where I'm at.  But I'm going to keep moving anyway.

I have arrived.  It's a place of comfort and a place of confidence.  And it's perfect and unsettled all the same. It's plain, it's simple.  It's tattered and worn.  It's just fine for me.

I have arrived.  I've come to know that life?  Is not a competition.  It's not a game.  So please quit playing.  I'm not trying to win.  I don't want to win.  I'm just surviving.

I have arrived.  I can lay my head down at night and sleep.  I can rest knowing that the path to this place was an honest one. The day has been long.  But it has been worth it.  I've given my best and that's all I have to give.  And it's enough.

I have arrived.  And I've learned that I didn't need your approval to get here.  And I damn sure?  Won't depend on you to stay.  I will keep traveling.   With or without you.

I have arrived.  But I will keep growing.  And going.  And I'm taking with me the one's who hold me up, not push me down.  The one's who support me, not suppress me.  The one's who'll help bare the weight, not burden the load.  I will not carry your baggage, too.  My hands?  Are full.

I have arrived.  Kicking and screaming.  But without excuses.  Not this time.  My heart is full and my conscience is clear.

I have arrived and I'm satisfied.  I'm full.  But I am not finished.

I have arrived.  I may be late, but I'm here on my terms.  And that?  Is better than never arriving at all.  

~SAHM I Am

Help! I Can't Find A Pulse!

As some of you know, I've tried this whole blog thing before.  And I've abandon it.  Left it idle somewhere in cyberspace.  Apparently there's no one who really monitors the amount of "space" that's actually available in cyberspace (like a cyber cop or something?)... because if they did?  I'd have totally violated some law by now.  I'm absolutely sure my blogger parking meter ran out a looooong time ago.  And now I'm suddenly remembering why I left this shit parked in a back alley somewhere.  And this?  Is why... 

Maintaining a blog is a bit more complicated than I thought (albeit I'm an idiot).  I have no background in technology.  Unless you consider Facebook, in which case I'm a damn genius.  I digress... 
Before deciding to stay at home with the kids, I was a nurse.  I specialized in Emergency Medicine and CardioThoracic-Vascular Surgery.  And I loved it.  I mean, I really loved it.  Ok, so I really love my kids, too.  But I really loved my job.  I'm sick like that.  Anyhoo, here are things a few things I am knowledgeable about and/or can do with ease:

• Check every orifice you have and not think twice about it- no matter what I may find.  Believe me.  I've seen it before.   
• Calculate the dosage and drip rate for drugs that have the chemical equivalent of jet fuel.  And them use them to save your life.
• Pull you apart and put you back together.
• In a pinch, I can function as your heart, lungs, kidneys, or liver... and I'm pretty good at it. 
• Save your ass.   
• Stop the doctor before he really screws up.  (See last point)

The bottom line? If it currently has or recently had a pulse?  I can manage it.  Like.  A.  Boss. 

Things I have no idea about and can't seem to figure out no matter how long I stare at the screen.  Or?  Despite having multiple college degrees...

• URL's
• HTML's
• Archives
• Widgets, gadgets, and buttons
• Links and rolls (is it wrong that this makes me only think of sausage?)
• RSS
• Subscriptions
• Feeds and follows (and now I'm thinking about toddlers.  Dammit.)
• Templates and layouts
• Google+, Twitter, Tumbler, and whatever the hell else is out there. 
• Previewing and publishing

And the list goes on...  And on...  And, well,  it's embarrassing.  Really. 

So this will be an experiment of sorts.  (That doesn't sound fun at all, does it?)  It sounds painful, actually. 
Let's look at it like a journey.  Yes, a journey!  That sounds waaaay more cool than an experiment, right?  After all, y'all aren't lab rats.  So, we'll navigate this journey... together.  In order to be successful (ok, tolerable) I'll need you to be patient with me.  I'm delicate, like a small flower.  Ok, so I'm not at all like a flower.  More like a dandelion. 
But still be patient with me.  And be kind.  And remember that my computer doesn't have a pulse.  So I can't fix this shit with an IV drip or a defibrillator.  The blogger me is a work in progress.  Just hold my hand and stroke my ego and we'll be just fine.  Tolerable.  I'll totally settle for tolerable.