I miss you,  your laugh,  your sarcastic wit.  The way that you could make me realize that life just wasn’t so darn serious.  I miss our Facebook chats,  the way you would leave little notes on my wall or comment on my pics or statuses. 
     The realization that missing you may be something that goes on for a long damn time has hit me like a ton of bricks.  I keep pulling those bricks off 1 by one,  and then another memory knocks another pile in.
     I am someone that alternately keeps my emotions locked away,  or wears them out for the world to see.  This one has been locked away,  tight in a vault that would have made the constructors of Ft. Knox very happy.  But that kind of burying has consequences.  I hate those consequences,  but I have no choice in this matter. 
     All I do know is the sadness is no fun and I wish it would break,  pretty damn fast,  because I am done with it. 

     Some people do their best thinking in the shower or in the bathroom in general.  I will not lie to you I have come up with some pretty awesome ideas while perched on the porcelain throne.  But I seem to have my best ideas at the gym,  while pedaling away on this recombinant bike, the tunes cranked away in my headphones.  I don’t know whether it is the mindless pedaling, the ability to just leave everything behind or the knowledge that no one can get to me for the 30-45 minutes that I am here, but it works.
     I do know that as my legs pedal in time to Don Henley this time.  (Don’t judge me, I am a teenager of the 80’s) I have made a revelation or had an epiphany,  call it what you choose.  My working out is to make me healthier, not to fit into some idea of what the fashion industry thinks I should be.  I watched all those skinny size 2 or even some of them smaller.  (Although praise the one who announced to the world she is a size 6.) Parade their beautifully toned bodies at the Golden Globes  last night,  their dresses cost more than my entire new car and yes they drank champagne,  but probably can’t eat for a week now.  That just isn’t me!!

    I am trying to do better about what I eat,  less carbs,  but the chances of me giving up pasta are about equal with me winning the over billion dollar Powerball Jackpot.  It just isn’t gonna happen.  It is my comfort food,  my happy place, and if I were to give it up I would be a really miserable lady. 
    More lean meats and fresh vegetables and nope the fruit isn’t going either.  I need that in my life in moderation.  And chocolate that isn’t going either,  cuz that would really make this mamma bear unhappy.   If all those things mean that I am destined to be a curvy size 10/12/14 I will take it.  My curves are what make me, me.  Without them I would be an unhappy stick figure. 

As 2015 winds down and 2016 starts I have taken a little time to reflect on what has happened in the past year.  Both of my boys now have great girlfriends,  girls that are fun and respectful to be with.  I lost my last grandparent and my great aunt.  Both were 98, both died on the same day and we’re born a week apart.  The loss of both of them hurt me more than I thought it would,  mostly because it is the last of that generation.
      I vowed I will take more pics of my parents,  when Kyle asked does my Nana look like your Nana.  Meaning does my Mom look like her Mom.  My Nana hated her picture taken with a passion,  I have to hunt thru photo albums to find a few pictures of her.  And the short answer is yes she does. 
     She was a 5 foot tall spitfire of a woman, in constant motion, that weighed all of 105 pounds on a good day.  She had a Napoleon Complex and drove a big Ford LTD car and had to have a pillow on the seat so she could see over the steering wheel.  Her world revolved around my brother and I as her only grandchildren.
     We bought a brand new car, that already has 11k miles on it.  Living in the boondocks means u have to drive miles to get anywhere.  I got Red,  yeah!!,  I know I will have to slow down cause I drive to fast for a Red car.
     Kyle graduated from High School and I managed to get the ceremony with only misty eyes and no real tears.  I was pretty damn proud of myself.  Considering when he graduated from 6th grade I was a blubbering mess.  I make no promises about Connor’s graduation though.
    All in all 2015 can go in the books and be closed and locked.  I am looking forward to 2016. Bring it on.!!!

  This one will NOT be shared
to Facebook, so unless you follow my Blog you don’t get this one.  This entry is highly personal and emotionally charged.  When all is said and done the whole mess makes me miss my Grampie so much.  I wish he could have met Mark and Kyle and Connor.  I would like to think that he would have been proud of the woman that I have become, because he was proud of the teenager I was when he left this world in 1984.i

   I have spent the better part of tonight thinking about this and how to rectify me feelings and finally have come to this.  I have entitled this Dad because I want you to show it to him, whether on the screen or whether you print it out for him. 

     Nothing that Jama did in her will can change the way that I feel about her.  That emotion is anger and betrayal.  She made me truly understand that she took her feelings of favoritism to the grave.  She made those feelings apparent in her life and they have carried on in her death.  Nothing I did was ever good enough, or maybe it was too good.  I was never thin enough, or pretty enough, or my hair was too dark, or I was too educated or too opinionated.  There was always a reason.  I finally stopped fighting and trying so hard,  and after Grampie died I stopped trying at all.  I was never gonna be the person she wanted so why even bother.  

     I would like to say that my skin was thick enough that her barbs didn’t matter, but that would be a lie, all I ever wanted was to be loved by her and no matter how hard I tried it just never worked. 

     I always thought that Tim was the most like her but I think in the end it was John.  Doing her bidding, ripping what was left of the Whalen family apart at the seams, until all that remains is threads.  

     Feeling sorry for myself, because I didn’t get what I wanted won’t solve anything.  But what makes me mad is knowing that Dad was emotionally hurt by his own brother.  That he was left with nothing as well,  just so John could say he took everything.  Greed is a powerful thing,  and John used it as his tool,  the wrong kind,  like a petulant child.  If blood is thicker than water than I am not sure what John has in his veins.  He is a cold hearted son of a bitch.  All I can hope for is that Karma truly will get him eventually.  The small knowledge that Grampie would not be happy with the outcome of this entire mess and that hopefully John has ostracized himself from the rest of his brothers. 

Love,

Tammer

     It is no big surprise that teenagers come equipped with attitudes.  They are under the pre conceived notion that the world should revolve around them.  This is not the case, getting them to accept this fact of life is difficult at best.
     The other big stumbling block is to get teenage boys to live harmoniously with their mom.  To teach them that they have to be better boys to in turn be great men.  It is a work in progress,  but we are getting there.  One step,  one slammed door and one hug at a time. 

 

     I am a born and bred New Englander.  Completely used to the phrase “if you don’t like the weather wait 5 minutes and it will change.”  This year has completely confounded me,  it is December 22nd and it is 40 degrees out, and forecasted to be 60 on Christmas Day.  Over this past weekend it actually was cold enough that it felt like December,  but that only lasted 2 days. 

     I am not a lover of feet of snow, although the ski resorts around me are crying without it.  Even if it stays cold long enough for them to make it.  People don’t think to ski when there is no snow on the ground.  I really don’t enjoy driving in the crap,  4wd can’t combat stupidity of others and there sure are a lot of them out there. 

     My allergies are in overdrive this morning, runny itchy eyes, sneezing, it is like September.  I wonder if this is what it is like for Christmas in Dixie?  Because it sure is an odd Christmas in New England weather wise. 

    

     The undeniable urge to choke the living s##t out of someone.  That has been my week,  between work,  getting ready for the holidays, trying to keep up with the social schedules of 2 teenage boys,  and family in general.  It is like my world is on fire and everywhere I go the extinguishers are all broken.

     I have spent the last 3 weeks putting out rhetorical fires.  Jumping from one crisis to the next.  I would be willing to admit it is why I either fall into bed exhausted at night or toss and turn running alternate scenarios in my head for hours.  Waking up more tired than when I went to bed. 
     Last night was my “see the light moment”  if you could call it that.  When I was getting my MBA and working full time,  and carrying on my long distance relationship with my husband (stress is not new to me). I would get these wild night terrors where I was being chased by a monster,  a big green scary looking monster.  This monster looked sort of like Sully from Monsters, Inc,  but not near as friendly.  The faster I ran the closer the thing got.

     Last night I had The Scary Green Monster Dream.  My body has drawn the line in the sand.  No more stress lady, figure it out.  So today I will breathe deep and ,  have some tea,  be a duck and let it roll off,  because the monster will not get me.

Every time there is a mass shooting,  either in the US or after the one in Paris.  The comments begin to fly about different religions and how they are responsible for the killing.  The most recent group to be blamed is “Muslims” and “ISIS”.  In the past few weeks it seems to have been “open season” on anyone that either is believed to be Muslim or of Middle Eastern decent. 
ISIS is a group of radicals that even Muslims are afraid of.  Don’t lump them together out of ignorance.

This type of finger pointing is reminiscent of Adolf Hitler and his segregation, treatment and total annihilation of the Jewish people during World War II.  Hitler was trying to create a Master Race during his annihilation.  This time the segregation is brought about by fear.

Fear of people that don’t look like the rest of us.  Didn’t we learn our lesson with The Japanese Internment camps in the early 1940’s?  We are still feeling the effects of segregation and the African American Civil Rights Movement of the 1960’s.

One of the Greatest Boxers in history was born with a name that few know him as.  Cassius Clay,  the name that he became famous under is his Muslim converted name,  Muhammed Ali.  Under this wave of fear of everyone that doesn’t look like The American Christian.  Muhammed Ali and his children would be removed from this country.  Hello,  he was born here and converted to The Nation of Islam. 

I ask you all,  to take a step back and look and think.  Since 911 the mass shootings in this country have been overwhelming committed by White Christians, Adam Lanza, Dylan Storm,  Elliot Rodgers,  Aaron Alexis,  James Holmes,  Scott Dekraai,  Jared Lee Loughner and the list goes on.  All we can focus on is the Santa Barbara killings committed by an American Citizen who converted to the Muslim faith and his wife who was a Pakistani National.  If we were to go by the facts and statistics we would be rounding up White American Christians and making them wear ID. 

What I ask for is common sense and empathy in this time of craziness.  It really is not too much to ask for.  Use your brains to think things through before you jump on the bandwagon of hate.

I just can’t sit by quietly and watch anymore.  I generally don’t engage in political diatribe or discussions on-line.  On the occasions that I have done it in the past,  I have learned : No one wins, and I am left frustrated and irritable.

Donald Trump is an idiot,  he spews hate, racism and a political ideology that makes no sense.  I realize that the unhappy masses have grabbed onto Trump and his ideas because he is loud and some would say charming. 

Charming is not a word I would use.  I would try obnoxious, self centered and pompous. 

I am also quite aware that there are not wonderful candidates to choose from this time, but for the sake of the election process.  Find someone other than the buffoon.

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I am truly at a loss, the 2nd Ammendment guarantees us “the right to bear arms”.  As an American Citizen the Bill of Rights is the foundation on which this country is built.  To pull that brick out would be detrimental to how our freedoms are structured.  On the other hand the mass killings need to be halted.
I live in an area of the country where every “backwoods good ole boy”  has a shotgun to shoot deer, Turkey, moose and any other 4 legged furry meat wielding creature.   Half of my work crew took days off this week so they could stalk deer because Shotgun season started on Monday.  This argument and therefore this blog is gonna go over like the proverbial fart in church with them.

I am done sugar coating it for them.  You don’t need an assault rifle to kill a deer with,  if you do, the deer will be splattered all over the woods.  I think it would be safe to say it is hard to pick the most off the trees to eat it.

Enough of the guns,  how many people need to die before the message is delivered loud and clear?  Without guns these mass murders will be much smaller and less noteworthy.  Picture a nut with a baseball bat,  or a knife.  He or she would would be taken down much quicker.  Stop the political pandering and the bowing to the NRA to make everyone happy.  The fear that chipping away at the 2nd Ammendment will change the way of the world.
Something has to change,  I am tired of being afraid,  afraid of what will set the nut off today.  When the mass shootings are outnumbered by the days of the year.  We have a problem,  are we gonna face it,  and deal with it?  Or keep talking about it? Talking won’t fix it,  but action sure as hell will!!!