Hi, I'm Sue!
By trade, I'm a 911 operator for a small fire department on the west side of Florida (hurricane lane). I've been doing that for a loooooong time (17 years, actually, shhh, don't tell anyone). I started this blog with some posts about my co-workers.... I'm over that now. There are forces at work, in my life, that whisper "your shift working days are numbered".
I live in a suburban, malignant sub-division surrounded by country that has absolutely no local personality other than "change is bad". I'm an hour from Big City, and an hour and a half from "the mouse".
9 years ago my 3 year old son and I moved in with the man and children I married last June. On our first date (and since this is MY blog, I can say with certainty...the first time we went out together to a movie, he picked me up, he paid, we went out for ice cream after, was a date...so what if all 4 kids were there and the movie was Toy Story 2...it WAS a date) he told me, that he had trouble finding women, to date, that didn't think 3 kids, who were barely school age, were "baggage". To which I replied...didn't you know I'm a bag lady? Those kids are MINE, I dare you to defy me!
We've had quite a life together and our wedding wasn't the "beginning' as weddings typically are, We merely confirmed the family that we had already become, publicly and legally.
Last winter it came to our attention that a friend (and ex-stepbrother, on their mother's side) of our kids needed a place to live. He was given a rotten slice of life...Mom's a junkie, Dad's in jail, he was living with his granny until she had a stroke and had to go into a nursing home. Then he lived with his 23 year old, sister (who'd just had a baby), and failed to get along with her hubby. Punk-ass 17 year old, talking to his big sister, wasn't respectful enough for hubby. So, as we had a spare room(which is why I'm blogging at the dining room table), we laid out some ground rules and said welcome.
So that's the basics of how I came to be at this place, I read all your blogs and wanted to start my own, but I didn't know what my voice was, I don't have a shtick, a draw, or even any knowledge of this computer stuff(I still can't get my profile pic to work), then I realized that my life, while, to me, seemed mundane, really is something that might possibly be interesting, I find funny, clever stories to tell family and friends in everything we do...why not share them?
I don't have clever monikers for my kids and since I'm using my first name I thought...eh, what's the harm in using theirs. I'd like to introduce them...
Dave - 18 year old high school senior, mediocre grades, rap music, huge pants, gangsta wannabe that works at a daycare center after school program and LOVES it.
Cat - 16 year old high school junior, mediocre grades, a million friends, volleyball and basketball playing athlete, works the YMCA camp in the summer, and is officially only allowed to wear potato sacks from now on.
John - 15 year old, (first born twin, therefore "older" than his sister), high school sophomore, stellar grades, but struggles to achieve them, soccer playing athlete, with lots of friends, he's a thoughtful, thinker who genuinely cares what you think of him and his actions.
Jill - 15 year old, (younger twin), high school sophomore, stellar grades and makes it look effortless, athletic, but has never settled on a favorite as she didn't take to dance and didn't want to compete in gymnastics, she's trying soccer this year. she has a tight knit group of three girls that do everything together and yet all maintain unique individuality.
Blake - 12 year old, middle school senior( 8th grade), my dearest baby(I can't lie...it was him and me against the world for his first 3 years), mediocre grades, struggles to get done with his homework fast enough so there's more time for sports, he plays basketball and soccer but LOVES anything sports related and is training to be the next Schwab.
And as for me... well, um, ...I don't know. I was never taught how to think for myself, or to trust and accept my likes and dislikes as being acceptable. It was always about "fitting in", or belonging". I don't know myself, actually, and I'd kinda like to. I want to find my voice now, I want to live my life rather than letting life happen to me. That's what's happening here...I'm discovering I like commas and my spell checker likes to point out that I don't like apostrophes ...here Ill chronicle my letting go of the apostrophe even if my spell checker doesnt like it.