Hmpf

What I wouldn't give to be able to pick up the phone and talk to my Mom today. 

(((sigh)))

Love you, miss you, always with you Momma Chiquita Banana.

When do you......

Thoughts from November 2010

When do you stop filtering what you WANT to say?
When do you force yourself to face those fears?
When do you recognize it's time to let yourself find true happiness?
When do you stop worrying what others will think?
When do you stop editing your wants/needs?
When do you admit you were damaged more than you realized, muddled through how to deal with it and move the french on?

KIDS!!

My dear, sweet, ever-so-loving little boy was sitting at the kitchen counter this evening. His 5 yr old chin so delicately resting on his hand when he inquisitively asked: "Mom are you fat?"

I looked up ever-so-shocked and retorted, "No, I'm not fat! Why would you ask me that?"

And he responded ever-so-matter-of-factly, "Well, you don't LOOK fat but your butt sure is getting bigger. Haha." (And yes, he actually said "Haha" instead of laughing.)

And I ever-so-stated, "Go to your room.... And stop looking at mommy's behind."

Don't You Ever, Ever Feel.....

So many women in this world think they are "less than" and I'm no different. After doggy paddling the past few years, I found an anchor attached to my life jacket. It's not EX, the job, the kids, the house, various guys I've dated. It's far more personal and intimidating. It's ME. It's my way of thinking, it's how I internally negative talk. It's how I view my world. It's how I perceive myself. It's about my looks. It's about my personality. It's about how I *think* I'm never quite good enough. I didn't used to beat myself up like this. After talking to many girlfriends about self doubt, negative talk, insecurity, I realize this may just be you too. And along came P!nk at a great time, when I needed a song to blare in the car, sing off key, whip me back, to recognize what I was doing (and psssht, I've been paying a shrink to do this. The $1.29 download price would have been a MUCH better deal! Only kidding, the shrink is wonderful too- but that's another blog.) Enjoy the girl power moment ladies!

In The Dead Of Winter, I Forgot How To Blog...

Over two months?!? Can't believe I haven't blogged in over two months! I've had so many stories to share since, quirky thoughts and cumbersome annoyances to vent out but yet, never typed a word! It's been a hectic few months- holidays, snowdays, crazydays, workdays, courtdays... The winter funk has nearly sucked out my life and most definitely would have if I didn't white knuckle death grip the date of February 8th close to my freezing mind. You see, I'm a lucky girl and will be heading to Key West with my awesomely McAwesome brother and his equally fantabulous wife. YESSSSSS!!!!! Warmer air..... actually seeing sunshine..... maybe a palm tree or two..... consuming an overly sweet and equally overly priced tropical beverage= heavenly moment in one helluva winter! Thank ya Jesus!

I Am Thankful For....

Last year, I posted this as a status on Facebook:

MB... is thankful for all those little things I take for granted- C's sloppy little kisses when he thinks I'm asleep, attack hugs from J when she wants to wrestle, my dog's endless loyalty... even when I forget to feed her, the garage door opener on rainy days, hot water, out of the dryer blankets, drive thru liquor stores..... Kidding, but you get the picture! Look around, we all have SO much to be thankful for!

Wasn't that sweet?? It's wonderful that we each continue to grow and evolve. I would now like to update my thankful thoughts for 2010. Here goes:

MB... is thankful for stretch fabric, "one too many" beer nights, 7:30 bedtimes for kids, "He's Just Not That Into You" (a must watch for the single woman), jet bubble baths with a People Mag, NAIR, sending a direct message to the caller when I hit the "F you" button on my cell, baseball hats for bad hair days, again- drive thru liquor stores for various necessities, having enough self control to not recreate and improve episodes of "Snapped," doubling up on birth control, and being a single independent woman learning to not give a flying fuck what others think- even during my trippy moments. If you love me, you gotta love ALL of me.  

*Writer's note: Of course I'm FOREVER thankful for my children, friends and family that sing to the music for the dance of my life..... even when I forget the steps.

Shorthand Jive

WTF? IKR? STFU! OC! BTW! SMH! LOL! LMAO! ROTFLMFAO!

Ahhhh, gotta love shorthand in an era where we don't have even an extra moment to spell out what we're thinking....  and THAT got me to thinking. LMAO.... Laugh my ass off for anyone that hasn't paid a nick of attention to the last decade. I'm sorry but no matter how hard I laugh, da booty is still there. Walking on lunch with boom boom pow friend, we often have one too many hardy laughs which requires stopping, regaining composure and roping the bladder back to safety as well. One of us will invariably cross our legs to assist in the latter. A male coworker thinks we should wear Depends and just can't understand the delicate nature of a post-birthing bladder.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye...... LMAO will no longer suffice and shall immediately be replaced by a more suited HTCML.... "Had To Cross My Legs." I'm certain it's more spot-on than suggesting a giggle can make fat cells fly off one's posterior.

Flirting 101.... FAIL!

Sooooo, I'm browsing around a local department store. Not really shopping, just enjoying peaceful time alone. Wearing my favorite yoga pants and U of L shirt, I find myself in the shoe aisle. HEELS!! I love 'em but just can't afford anything extra at this time. And to be honest, they don't exactly go fabulously with my normal day to day life. ANYWAY, so there I was, hair in a loose messy ponytail, minimal make-up on, prancing back and forth in 3 inch heels (kick ass ones at that) and my slightly faded cotton/poly/spandex blend "gym outfit" when I could feel someone looking at me. I glanced up just as the eyes were looking away. Oooh, he's handsome, clean cut... and TALL (HUGE bonus for me.) I look back down focusing on my attire wishing I had bothered to put on more makeup today. As he walks by, I feel him looking at me again as I pretend to fully inspect the heels. Look up, look up, look up I tell myself but still can't! That gorgeous man struts by one last time some 10 minutes later while I scrupulously inspect a random purse and only looking up once it's quite safe to watch him walk away. 

I kick myself. I have NO game whatsoever. I'm 36 years old, I've birthed babies, I'm responsible for people's lives in my job, and I couldn't even look up and smile. Didn't realize I was back in 7th grade... only I DID talk to boys rather easily then. Now I'm just a NERD!

Maybe I should check this book out !

Whoops!

Last week as I was parked on the floor folding clothes in my daughter's room, she was bouncing and dancing circles around me. Attempting to slow down her hyper-twirl swirl, I noted she should be helping; she's old enough now. 

Her response, "Do I HAVE to help with stuff like this?" 

My response, "Yes and you are going to start now."

Daughter, "Because I'm a big girl and that's what six year olds do?"

Me: "How old are you again?" 

Daughter: "Six. Momma, you remembered that didn't you?"

Me: "Of course I did." 

Dang, I just forgot for a minute.... was thinking she was still 5. Actually sat on the floor and did the math for a second. HOW does a mom forget this????? My bad.

A Walk on the Dark Side

I try not to be detail-specific about the last few drama filled years with EX. It has been painful... beyond painful. And ugly...  beyond ugly. It was a downright nightmarish hell that spiraled into dark lockdown corners of state run mental hospitals, drug induced frenzies in the shadows of Louisville's crevices, constant chaos and his uncertain future. It was shocking, mindblowing, so incredibly saddening to watch a person I once loved so completely almost destroy himself and nearly take me with him. I teetered between never "letting" him get lost in the dark to letting go and moving on with life. I awoke each morning knowing only that I had two wonderfully innocent babies to love and protect from the hell their dad was engulfed in.

Mental health issues can be such a deep, imploding hell filled with never-ending questions. You can't run a test to produce a spot-on diagnosis. You can't do a scan, see the problem, and correct it with certainty. "He was normal" would be a statement I'd repeat often as others shockingly learned of his internal fight. I repeated it often probably more in attempt to convince myself this was indeed real and not some horrid nightmare. One treatment facility after another would produce varying diagnoses- bipolar with psychotic features, narcissitic, manipulative, schizoaffective, schizophrenic, underlying abuse etiology, overwhelming guilt, the opinions could go on.

Ex's mental health began deteriorating as my Mom's cancer worsened with his first hospitalization just 3 months before she passed. One of his psychiatrists told me his first breakdown... and introductory desent... was related to the overwhelming guilt he felt for having an affair during my second pregnancy while I was also caring for my Mom. She loved him. She encouraged him and took a real interest in his life. He still says no one loved him more than she and in the most perfect way. But ironically, he didn't feel guilty enough to STOP the affair, to admit it while I stood beside him and supported him. I diligently took our babies on "family day" to visit him from one facility to the next. I later learned, the girlfriend would be there minutes after I left. She was probably waiting in the parking lot watching me load up a 5 month old and not quite 2 year old into our minivan. What a perfect picture of the great all-American family. A few months later, my mom passed, I learned there were three people in my marriage and the other woman was desperate to hold on to the remnants of their relationship. I needed clarity and separated myself, or thought I was doing so, but that was just the beginning.

The next year revolved around drug binges with a crack cocaine addiction, property break-ins, suicidal ideations and attempts to follow through. Neighbors were calling the police to my house at 4 am, mental inquest warrants were processed, court ordered treatments, broken arms by drug dealers... saying his life was dark is a grand understatement. It was incredibly difficult to protect my children from this life while still attempting to help him. I thought that is what I needed to do. Even if our marriage was over, I didn't want this life for him. He was once a great person and I felt he was still in there somewhere. My life revolved around what was happening in his... and I was divorcing him. Finally, I gave up. I threw in the towel. I waved the white flag. I couldn't save him or even try anymore. It was costing me my own sanity. He tested it by calling "in crisis" and when I didn't drop everything a most unexpected thing happened. He started to "improve" on his own. Seems my help, even after separation, was empowering chaos.

I will never say EX deserved this. No one deserves the hell of deteriorating mental health. The internal chaos he felt was punishment enough. The stigma attached is even more punishment. I see glimmers of that old person here and there but scars are branded in my heart, in my feelings, in my arms-length dealings with others. He finally has a better grip on his health so much so that he takes our children regularly. Unfortunately, he does still cycle quite rapidly. One day is quiet and it arrives with a newfound appreciation because the next may involve a barrage of belittling insults, ranting text messages, personal attacks. It has taken months to accept this is my future, their future, his future. How I react makes all the difference.

There's a fine line between acceptance and accountability. I have finally ACCEPTED this is the reality of a person with a brain that ticks slightly differently. With that said, a person is still ACCOUNTABLE for the actions chosen; even during manic phases. I will always have a connection to EX, we have babies together. I will always care about him even though it seems insane to my close friends, but boundaries must be adhered to and I can no longer accept less than civil treatment. I always thought my toughest struggle was actually divorcing my past life. Little did I know, the hardest is creating and maintaining my own healthy future.

Is it...

Is it irrational to seek out true, genuine happiness?

Is it irrational to want to "just be" for a little while?

Is it irrational to look beyond the eye's perceptions in search of the core?

Is it irrational to be attracted to someone with a completely different reality of life?

Is it irrational to enjoy time with someone that helps you forget about your own pressing issues?

Is it irrational to look outside of comfortable to experience a new world?

No, no, no, no, no, and no..... BUT:

Is it irrational to expect a person to let down their facade when you hold up your own?

Is it irrational to let someone only show a small portion of himself and accept that as knowing him?

Is it irrational to expect him to share his real world but secretly build reservations after just a glimpse?

Is it irrational to constantly choose the path with rocks and stones and inflated expectations?

Is it irrational to have sheer frustration over something that cannot and will not change?

Yes, yes, yes, yes and yes. 

Do you stand up and walk, cutting out as early as possible to divert the inevitable? Or do you live in the moment and enjoy it for what it is? My, oh my. The paths I choose to explore. I have lots of stories to tell when I'm older..... It's a shame I won't be able to share most of them with the grandkids!

One liner

Entertaining reminder of pure "blessfulness" that my furniture doesn't reek:

"That's how it goes," Jess said wistfully. "You marry the man of your dreams and a couple of years later you find yourself living with a sofa that farts."

From the book, Apocalipstick by Sue Margolis

Lovin' my "Boom Boom Pow" Friend

Advisor, aka one of my footprint friends, always sends silly, off the wall, over the top texts. She makes me laugh when I'm in my self-righteous, piss-poor mood. After reaching max capacity in the ole inbox, I started browsing for messages to delete into oblivion. Instead I found reasons to smile, and yet another reason to be thankful for her boom boom pow awesomeness.

After spending a lake weekend with her and her crazy friends:
"What'r u sayin about it? That u slept cos we were a bunch of drunk, eye burnin, yahtzee playin, pistachio eatin, sufferin succotashin goof balls?" 
***And that's how the wonderful time went.. crazy, crazy!

For my birthday:
It's pretty crazy to say cos ur farely new n my life but, u r one of the few people in my life i am thankful for everyday lovey. It seems like ever since we started bein friends u help keep me sane n one way or another... always! And are completely irreplaceable in my life and I hope you remain there!!! I know I've told u a few times but u truly r one of the most unique and genuine people I've ever met and believe i ever will! I need you to say fuck all the Bs, Deeks, Armys, crazy exes, lazy shit talkin pcas if not forever for today and kiss the beautiful miracles u created and know u deserve better than anything anyone can ever give you!! I love you for every single inch of awesome woman you are!! Happy Birthday hott stuff!!!! Muah!!!!! Xoxoxoxoxo or is it oxoxoxoxoxox!!!
***Now how can a woman NOT feel good about themselves after this?!?

When I felt life was handing me another setback, she looked up my birth day in a book:
"although they often seem to depart from their principal activity and suffer an unusual number of setbacks, they rarely ever give up, and return to implement their plans with a renewed vigor."
***Ok, ok, I'm out of my pajamas now and ready to "go at it" again.

And today-
"I love u!" My response? "I love u 2, but any reason for the friendly reminder?" Her: "No, I just do."
***And thank you very much for doing woman!

A Day in the Life

One of those days.... one of those weeks.... and friendly reminders I should have truckloads of ibuprofen on hand. Here's just a sample:

* Flush the toilet in my bathroom and the handle breaks off in my hand. Now a member of the redneck club as the lid's off the tank so I can pull the chain to flush. Nice.

* Come home to find a strange, frothy bright orange substance vomited from one end of my living room to the other. Seems my dog's taste buds enjoyed old, discarded cosmetics more than her stomach. Scrub, steam clean, scrub and now just a delightful orange sherbet color reminder.

*Dropped my son off at preschool- 1st day and new school. Felt like I was the recipient of a hefty sucker punch.

*Spent 2 hours doing catchup work with my daughter after she missed a day of school- already. She chose to hit herself in the head with the pencil while I kept repeating "Pay attention!" 

*Screwed up a gas trimmer that is only a week old. Seriously a grrrrrrr!!!

*Spent half a day speaking with: the insurance company, an attorney, a police officer for advice, a behavioral health professional, and the kind people at my local AT&T store. Growing up's a bitch. 

*My beautiful little weeping cherry tree appears to be dying a slow death from neglect. Noticed too late.

*Strange light bulb issues- seems I walk by and pop! Two out in the kid's bathroom, darkness in my closet, and pulled the string off the fixture over my washer and dryer (again) and all in two days. Bizarro.

Some days you just have to laugh. Hardy har har. ;)

Booooooty's Callin'

I'm good with the weight I've gained over the past two years. My BMI is good, the bra size has increased (yay!) and I'm becoming accustomed to the few curves. Stick Girl for most of my life actually looks "healthy" as my late grandpa would say. Problem is.... seems my derriere has become quite the panty muncher and it's making me crazzzzy! My originally bikini positioned panties are quickly becoming thongs. And thongs, shesh! It's a sad sight when the back triangle is only halfway to its intended position and forget about comfort! So, off to buy new roos I went and quickly hit the brakes. Skreeeech!!!!.... Question to pose:

Where can a woman find fun, quality panties that don't cost both butt checks AND aren't granny panties?!?

Have you recently stepped into a Victoria's Secret? When did they change their market strategy/target audience to teenagers? I'm a big fan of their "Cheeky, Cheekier, Cheekiest (but I pass on the latter) line but the design pattern and color choices clearly cater to early college students as the oldest. I feel like a "wannabe" just browsing through looking for sophisticated fun. Waaaay back on a few rounders you will find simple, plain cotton bikinis... borrrring. Oh unless, you want a little class, then another rounder has a few 3/$30 panties that are cut sexier but don't stay put. I've been here, there, everywhere quite like my panties in search of comfort. Alas, I will continue the tireless search, readjusting the garments covering my booty until I either find what I'm looking for (and reasonably priced) or wave the white flag and just starting going commando.

Quote Time!

The quote whore in me had to share this from Alice Abrams:

"In life as in the dance, grace glides on blistered feet."

    **Note to self, my life still needs a pedicure.

Note to Self....

I have an entire bathroom drawer jammed full of lotions and smell goods rarely used. I decided it was time to exploit their splendid scents even if I share them with no one else for the day. After showering I lotioned up, found the corresponding spray and pssshh, pssshh, pssshh- sprayed it circling around my front side, neck and around and down. Whooooo hooooo hoooo... OH MY!!! Certain freshly shaved areas don't appreciate an alcohol based spray. HOOOOLY mother of pearl, y'ouch!!! I didn't know smelling so good could burn so bad!

Drop the H

Ever notice how whine and wine sound exactly the same but are at opposing ends of your mood spectrum? Keep the H in happiness and out of your wine!

Roooad Trip

I'm taking a much needed partial-break from reality next week and will be beach bound. I say "partial-break" because my two munchkins will be in tow. The challenge will be to actually get there with as little drama as possible. For the 630 miles each way, I'm working on a list of things for them to do. So far I've have coloring books, "I spy" games, and a dual screen DVD player I'm borrowing from a seasoned traveler friend with little hellions as well. Did I mention this movie player has headphone jacks?!? Ahhh, thank ya Jesus!

While my kids are enjoying their entertainment, I will be upfront with my iPod and my 6-disc car CD changer. I've reserved two slots for kiddie CDs that I can somewhat tolerate. But the other four positions are alllll mine. Each CD will have a theme and here's the breakdown:

Happy, Sappy, Rocky, Cocky

Sounds good to me. Happy- feel good, life is great music. Sappy- songs that string the chords in my heart. I plan on playing this minimally. Rocky- ya gotta love a bit of hairband magic and a few screaming guitars. I may have to curtail my normal singing at the top of my lungs to keep the natives in the backseat calm. Cocky- get up and dance, I'm the shihitz... ya know, those songs you don't actually own up to knowing.

So that's the plan. And if the three of us go absolutely mad together in the car, I will do my best to convince my friend in the car ahead to swap kids for a little while. Musical car seats. I hope it works. Either way, it will be worth every whining moment to sit on the beach, "take it all in" and let the tide take away my troubles. Can't wait. No, really I CAN'T wait. Sooo ready to lose myself for a while!

Smile

Just wanted to share something I heard the other day.

I know that smile.
I miss that smile.
I want to kiss the lips that make that smile.
I want to wake up everyday to that smile.
I want to kiss that smile goodnight every night.

How's that saying go.... Smile because you never know who's falling in love with it. I think that's it. This reminded me to let that frown go.

The Mighty Oak

When restless, I start looking to make changes. Some for entertainment and others out of sheer necessity. My most recent is for the latter and to save my children from yet another splinter-filled summer. I've spent HOURS tearing the dilapidated deck off my house and rebuilding a new and greatly improved shade-quenching one for my sunburned outdoor space. The new house doesn't have a single tree planted to take roots. Far different from the mighty Oak at my previous house, there's not a a bit of shade here. It's all open and unprotected. I pondered this while hammering the 136 nails into boards on the deck rails one afternoon. Protection.... what an interesting word. Dictionary.com states it is: the act of protecting or the state of being protected; preservation from injury or harm.

I realize that while the old house was my old life, there are a few things I miss from it. I adored that great Oak tree outside my dining room windows. I miss the shade it would cast into the upstairs bedrooms. The greatest storms would roll through and that tree stood tall and never wavering. The roots were strong and I never worried about its vulnerability. While living there, I thought I was joined with someone that was my protection and security, if you will. The toughest acceptance was realizing my protector was the one that actually destroyed it and took trust and a plethora of other mind-calming traits with it. 

Moving to the new house on a treeless lot gave me the opportunity for a fresh, unscripted start. I could finally take a deep breath and no longer felt I had a cinder block restraining me. Although I never want him back and that life is long gone, sometimes it's difficult to rely only on myself. Sometimes it would be comforting to rest my head at night knowing someone else has my best interest in mind too. Security is something a single woman just doesn't feel. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE being independent, going about my business, and setting my own path. But it would be nice for just one night to hand over my fears to someone else and know I'm not in this alone.

The reality is I've only recently recognized the damage another person can do. I felt like I made it through the worst storms. I'm out, the kids are out, we are better now but the verbal and emotional abuse of the last few years have taken their toll. When things aren't as EX would like, I can surely expect him to spew every offensive and demeaning thought he has. Then it's a barrage of disgusting, belittling texts until my phone reaches capacity. Dependent on his "cycling" this may continue for hours, even days sometimes. I used to make a joke of it but the reality is I would rather be punched in the face repeatedly than subject myself to his immeasurable tactics. At least I could visibly see the damage and recognize this is NOT okay. I would never openly give him the satisfaction of crumbling, but it's difficult at times. The protection that was once so comforting is now what creates my biggest vulnerability. 

Tonight, I sit on the new covered deck looking into the yard. It's full of kid toys, swingset, pool and yet it feels so empty. Protection and security are not things you can see, but what you feel. It's having faith that those strong roots will hold even the heaviest branches up during trying times. I'm sure my mighty Oak in New Albany is standing tall even after the worst storms. I'm still standing as well and someday I will be as tall again too. Until then, I'm planting a few trees in this barren yard and you can bet one will be a mighty Oak.

Secrets of the House

It's been a while since I blogged, I've had the thoughts but not enough time in the day. Summer is here, school is out, the kids are wild, and I'm putting a deck on my house. You get my drift... you're probably on the same pattern as well. Shewww! I'm tired! Just wanted to share a few shortcut "secrets" tonight:

I would love to scrapbook adorably cute, forever memorable albums for my children to browse through with their children. However, I've succumbed to the fact it "ain't never gonna" happen. Sooo, my second best alternative is to buy cute photo albums with a memo section built in preceding the picture slot. Here I put cute little scrapbooking stickers and write little notes from that day. It's more personal and sure beats an album packed with photographs but omitting its story. You could go yet another route and print those in book form through snapfish and the like. I, however, would end up with 400 books and it's just too costly for that!

My friend let me in on a fantastic idea she does with her children's artwork. She takes a favorite and has it made into blank notecards. Do you need to send a quick thank you to Auntie for your child's birthday present? How perfect is the notecard for that! Note to the teacher? Even better! (Brown-nosing points included.) The only problem I am running into is: how on earth do you choose just ONE per kid?!

You know, with digital cameras I take entirely tooo many pictures. I really do. I was originally trying to clear out "less than stellar" photos before transferring pictures to a thumb drive. Then I started thinking about how my kids will never be THAT age again. That day has passed. What's one more picture? That's the joy of digital photography. You can keep every single moment and you don't HAVE to print every picture. I look at my babies and can't believe how much they have changed since we moved here. Time flies. And I'm going to keep every precious moment I have, so what if the picture isn't "perfect." Someday all these silly times will be just perfect memories.

Round and Round

Late Entry. Blog post for April 17, 2010.

Soo, Playa... I am over his flipflop, dillydally attitude. But still, there's something  that annoyingly keeps him in my head. I drop kick him out, he comes back after a few months. While I no longer seriously entertain the idea, I can't figure out why I even listen. It's clear we will never give the other what they need. So why bother? He and I have talked about how we're never on the same page at the same time. So what is it?!? Randomly and when I least expect it, he's pops back. It's all cautious when he's not sure if I'm going to hear him out or rip his head off. Next is a phone call saying he was going to stop by but didn't know if my man would be here. I don't correct him to divulge that the only man in my life is 4 yrs old. The conversation ends after an hour by saying if I ever want to go riding (motorcycle) then give him a call. And there it is, he props the door open again. Those that know me also know that I'm almost infatuated with motorcycles and speed evoking adrenaline. But I'm just too tired to play this game. He likes the chase and I drive with a flat tire.

In text talk with my bff about Blue (after all she and my sister fully interrogated this man while I was in the loo), I mentioned that he was a history buff and seemed, well, possibly just a shade on the side of too safe. No, I don't want to say boring, he's incredibly funny so let's say mellow. Here's how the text convo proceeded:

Me (About him): His Interests are learning about our founding fathers and the Constitution. Fave quote is by Thomas Jefferson. Fave book is Liberty and Tyranny.... this guy may run for office some day... I'd hate to ruin that for him...

BFF: He's a history buff which is a much cheaper habit than gambling, drugs and various bizarre obsessions such as bobbleheads.

Me: Just sayin....

BFF: Whatever. The minute he didn't turn up on a bike with another woman on the back and a cig out of his mouth and the popo following him , u lost interest.

Me: Omg, I love you. I reallllly do. U may know me a bit too well.

BFF: I just described ur most recent fantasy, didn't I? Bet I was even there standing on the walk asking u not to go as u hopped on the back and rode away.

Me: Umm, well.... Huh. Maybe? U actually had hand on hip, shakin ur head and rollin ur eyes, lol.

BFF: Boy this all sounds really familiar.

Me: And then you tell me to shut the hell up as I whine that some bitch was callin him baby...

BFF: And ur surprised.... again.

She has the scenario pegged. I love it that she also coached me on what I can and can't say to Blue. The legitimate concern is that he may just hightail it if he knows too much too quickly. It's clear if I screw this one up (and I always do) I will have to answer to BFF. She thinks I'm nuts, she knows I need a stable, available MAN in my life. But why do I have that burning attraction for bad boys? Is it possible that I've lived in such chaos for so many years that I've confused stability for boring? Heartbreak for excitement? Thrill for happiness? I've always liked things a little on the wild.... but I'm tired of pumping air back in for one more lap. It's TIME to grow up... at least a little.

"Sometimes, You just have to get away with the girls."

Waaaahoooo! I'm ready for a GNO for this!!!


I need to focus and get a few things done... like the three blog posts I've started but have yet to finish. Maybe because each has no ending, maybe because each is a bit personal, maybe because I am usually "On it" but when I'm off.... I'm 4-wheelin. Found the map (or should I say GPS??) and will be back on track shortly. Time to knock the dirt off my heels!

Being a REAL Woman and Single Mom Means....

.....you can't remember it ALL all the time. I went for my annual exam, stripped down and threw on the gown. I  fear my gynecologist will open the door as I'm standing stark naked for the office to see. Seriously, who cares! She delivered my first baby, she's seen it all and will again in a few minutes. But anyway, I hop up on the table actually enjoying a few minutes of quiet. I laugh looking at myself in a hospital gown and socks until I realize.... I have on two different socks. As I go to yank them off in a not so discreet fashion, the doctor walks in. It was perfect timing to find me in a most bizarre position, alone and naked. I explain, she laughs, and it's on about the business. As I get dressed, another revelation occurs. Seems I should pay more attention to other things too. I went to the tanning bed a few days prior in an attempt to erase fifteen tan lines. I burnt myself just a smidgen in areas that NEVER see sunlight... and it was now peeling and flaky..... I'm glad I usually only see her once a year.

*Last week, my cousin blogged about her hair ornament and her gyno visit. I chuckled.... paybacks!

All In A Name

Do you ever need to have a private discussion in a not-so secluded location? It's not necessarily the subject but rather "who's who" of the chatter. I was clearing out texts and chuckled at the perfectly conceptualized nicknames created or earned by various people in... or out of my life. EX used to be quite the snooper (remember boundary issues?) and I originally did this to blanket protection for myself as well as friends. Sounds like the beginning of a CrimeStoppers show, huh? Names have been changed to protect the identity of those involved. Just to share:

Advisor- One fantastic gf that listens to issues and dishes advice as needed. We're all over the board too- makeup, clothing, music. She's younger and gives me a healthy spin on occasion.

Diva- This woman and I think so much alike it's scary. We make similar choices in the love area (so we are both wrong!) that we'll never run out of things to banter. The big difference- she is much more diva fabulous than I. She keeps the whole package up- the hair, the nails, the clothes. And she ALWAYS looks pulled together. Me? Not so much.

Hot Date- A gf that loves to go out and have a good time. We're on the same wave so it works. Her nm was born when EX pickpocketed my cell. It is certainly none of his business to know a bit about my friends, male or female so let him conclude what he wants. Besides, she's gorgeous and IS my hot date for night's out and would be for a guy too if she weren't married. Love her husband by the way, he's "Rusty Balls" but that's a COMPLETELY different story and not what you would think, sorta.

Train- Ex-bf of mine that was a train conductor. Simple nickname for a simple kinda man. He's so sweet but a bit too country. 

Superman- His name was Clark. That's it. I never ended up going out with him. EX saw this on my phone and wouldn't let our son watch Superman or play with those toys for a good 2 months. I'm not joking.

Mitchell- Seems one friend couldn't remember his name, but rather his podunk hometown. Really it should have been: Possessive, Aggressive, Chopperhead, something along those lines. 

Psych- The family therapist I keep saying I'll go out with. He's nice enough, attractive enough, but eh... not quite sure. He asks, I say yes we need to get together, but well... I worry that I'll be the lead subject in a psychoanalysis book "Days and Nights of a Crazy Lady and Her Psychodrama: A Melodrama"  instead of a dinner companion. Even disregarding human nature, his career is to analyze people and their situations and I could keep this man busy for YEARS. This could go really, really bad.

Big, Playa, Deek, Thug- Yes, all those names collared by one. He started as Big- very tall and just as emotionally unavailable as SATC's Big. Then to Playa as he loves the dating game (see Game Over entry). Then edited to Deek and only because I'm a lady and can't openly call a guy a penis. And alas, Thug. Let's just say his arrest record surprised me.... even after he forewarned me of his murky past. Seems he encompasses the last few months as "the past" as well. Pending issues. 

Blue- Just met Blue this past weekend. This nickname took a great deal of consideration. His shirt was blue. Yeah, real soul searching although his nm should be Baby Blue... He's 6 years my junior and that's a huge sticking point but more because he has no kids, never been married.. items I've checked off my "To Do" list and WILL NOT be adding them back. He's cute, super nice and must give it a shot if he STILL wants to go out after Diva and I got him thrown out of a bar with us. Talked for two hours tonight. Will reserve it for a future blog when I know more. 

There's more. Just look at someone and an imaginary bubble sporting a nickname will fluff over their head. Try to be nice too. You don't want to sound to horribly cynical. I learned this after nicknaming someone Fatty-  eh, still rude even if there was truth.. and a story behind it. Imposter would have been more fitting. There's JSwagga, TT (aka Tall Trooper), OMG- perfect, Zele aka Detroit, Roc, Army (guess who from previous blogs), then names given to other friend's men- Divo, Commish, Player (not to be confused with Playa), Rehab, 12, her Army. You get the picture. Set up shop in the middle of a crowded place and have a full discussion with your advisors, divas, and hot dates worry free. I like it.

Favorite Saying

In the endless chatter between myself and Diva Cousin, a new motto for the male drama we share spewed from my lips. Here goes it:

Man UP or Boy OFF!!

Must say, I'm kind of feeling it. Would love to say it to a particular guy. Notice there's no room  for a GUY. Either be a MAN or return to your juvenile adolescence to be clearly tagged BOY and marked off my list... please. Save me some time. Thank you, that's all for now.

MY March Madness Bracket

Thirty six, treinta y seis, trente-six, trentasei... my birthday number for the year. I've officially graduated to the "box" that insinuates if you're 36 then you might as well be 40... Ya know, in questionnaires I've moved from the 20-25 girl years of spontaneous road trips, FINALLY legally buying alcohol and no worry times. In the 26-30 bracket, it was a less girl to more woman transformation- marriage, a real career, buying a home, having my first baby. Onward and ripping through 31-35, another wonderful baby then the girl in me disappeared and life turned quite serious. Major changes, significant losses. All woman, no girl and unrelenting pressure. Now to drop that bracket and check the 36-40 box, the "age" of my attitude adjustment.

I've always loved my birthday and never dreaded gaining a year, I look younger than my chronological age, or so I've heard. I've always been on the athletic side. "Ohh, that will change when you hit 30" I was told. Well, I had a baby at 30 and shrunk back to my "below average" weight. I had another baby, and again, went right back to my pre-baby weight without ever hitting the gym. God bless genetics. Now before you smack me, please note that the only guarantee in life is that things are constantly changing... well, and that you will die some day, but I digress. Peculiar things happened between my 35th and 36th year, and here are some nitpicking observations.

YEARS ago I saw a Golden Girl's episode where my fave, Blanche, said all women KNOW that missionary is the ONLY favorable position. When questioned, she suggested that her face still looked flawless in that position and is a sore sight when she's "on top." Last week, I leaned OVER a mirror on the counter to tweeze my brows and about fell over. Wowwy!! I had NO idea, my face could even LOOK like that. Cartoonishly scary. Go try it, seriously. I'll wait.......

Quietly over the last couple of years, I've put on about 15 pounds. I needed to gain a few and like it for the most part. I actually have a decent bosom, something that was nonexistent in the "stick years." Post-child nursing, I've learned the importance of "push-up" bras (not padded!) to get the girls back up where they belong. And I actually have a booty. None of the women in my family have a butt, literally. My family is FULL of flat-ass women, it's the trademark. I may get kicked out of the club for this. I kinda like my mirror reflection... but this is enough, NO MORE!

I recently started running. First, my right foot started hurting- no surprise- I've had foot surgery. Changed up the shoes and at it again. Now my knee is filled with a chronic ache... along with the foot. I had to add some jamming music in my ears to drown out my panting and gasping for air as I felt each step pound the pavement. It shocked me when I heard my breathing in the momentary silence between songs. I'm surprised the neighbors haven't called an ambulance as of yet.

For my bracket, there's no specific fashion division. You can either go too young and foolishly dress like a teenager or into the world of elastic waistbands, cardigans, and Dr. Scholls. Where does a 36-40 woman find age appropriate, and yet FUN clothing... and on a single mom's budget?!? My aunt gave the BEST advice a few years ago. She told me to show as much skin as I want NOW because there'll be a time that I'll want to cover it up. I never knew what she meant... but I'm getting the hint now. My skin is changing. I am developing laugh lines, frown lines, curious lines, fine lines. Sun/age spots are popping by to say hello.... admittedly, I did nothing to stave those off in my teens and twenties. I naturally have jet black hair and look better with a little sun. Without it and considering black is my favorite clothing color, I look like a gothic cult ringleader. So back to the clothing dilemma, no short-shorts here but fitted clothing not requiring an orange peel for removal are a go. Then heels for dressier nights out. I can't believe I used to fear heels. Wearing them makes me feel "pulled together" and grown up. I don't feel like such a child, my legs look killer long, and the posterior looks better. Still, heels make my running foot hurt... I may have to stop running....

Unladylike noises. Hey now! Stop thinking THAT way! I was talking about those ridiculous noises made when getting off the floor, squatting down to reach the bottom shelf at the grocery, picking your child up to put them in the car... uhhh or ughh sounding noises. I catch myself doing it all the time. Is there a timer in my uhhh brain I can shut off for a while to silence that??

Other random aging thoughts: I have to dye my hair. I have WHITE sprouts that MUST be concealed. As a bonus, once the color begins to fade, those white hairs tricked black actually reflect as little brown. Bam, instant highlights! As for makeup, I get LOST in the foundation department scrutinizing each bottle's guarantee for "age defying, pore concealing, line refining" tricks. After 10 grueling minutes, I make my purchase only to later find it was the wrong tint. Grrrr! How am I supposed to guess this by looking at a "swatch" on the shelf label?! Can you tell single mom budget prevails here too?!? And on that note, I purchased the generic Oil of Olay to save a buck only to cringe later. It read "Beauty Fluid"... Why in the sam hell would they call it fluid?!? Maybe it's my offbeat humor, but it sounds disgusting!! Works the same though, fyi.

I could fill this with changes (my hair's not as curly, nails are more brittle, fingers are bonier, etc) but it must stop somewhere! I only recently started noticing fashion, hair, makeup, and the like. Single woman-dom will do that. I don't run out and buy "must-haves" but I do notice. Thank goodness everything changes- the bad times, fashion boos, uneven haircuts (something I am experiencing right now). Being stagnant can be dangerous. People SHOULD change with age and (hopefully) new, insightful wisdom is along for the ride. Now I have another year to enjoy and more birthday candles to blow out. Keep the oxygen tank handy!

Secrets of the House

Paint toenails with metallic nailpolishes for warmer weather. The metallic hides imperfections even when the tootsies need another coat. Small chips are nearly undetectable. It's all about easy breezy.



Skip the overbearing car fresheners. Slip a fabric softener sheet under your car seats to have a light and airy smell.... I'm currently obsessed with the lavender scent. Double duty if you find yourself with a static problem, swipe it from under the seat and run it along your clothes. Presto! (I realized today leaving spearmint gum in your car works pretty darn good too!!)

Use dry erase markers to leave notes on the bathroom mirror and windows. The marker wipes right off and the kids think I'm neat. Wink, wink. (DO make sure your kids know it's not a normal marker. THAT could be trouble!)

For my first apartment, Mom and I made curtains out of sheets. We used a twin size flat sheet as one panel. While redecorating my living room on a tiny budget, I found discount fabric to re-upholster pillows, but couldn't find coordinating blue curtains in my budget. Walking through a large chain store, I headed to bedding. I love it that they 1. had the perfect shade of blue 2. sell each bedding component individually and 3. had enough full sheets to split and make two panels. We're talking 6 curtain panels for $24. After laundering: split them, finish the raw edges, zip a stitch on top about an inch down (to create the "pinch" on top and pocket for the rod), iron and ta-da, big changes on a little budget! The nice part is the LOWER the thread count, the better- super soft sheets don't make for great curtains!

Open Mind Policy

Thank you for the wonderfully sweet words, posted on here and to me personally. Sometimes it's easy to get stuck in the low moment, but the human spirit shining through words of kindness and encouragement can really lift a girl up. So MANY thanks. I just keep thinking some day, this won't hurt so much.

I am usually horrible at remembering dreams with any real clarity. The alarm goes off and I hit the floor running. In reflection, I DO know it was extra special to wake up with the presence of Mom and remember our talk to the last detail. The next night, as I drifted off I hoped she would visit again. I had questions. I was startled by the annoying AM buzz and actually had a recollection of my night's thoughts but instead I chuckled... I was getting a pedicure. Yep, that's it. No major revelation, no life-changing event. And pedi's are something I don't have the luxury to do! No luck, I'll try again. But that next morning... I was kicking up dirt and doing donuts through a cattle show in a General Lee car (Dukes of Hazzard!) Wow. If this sampling represents the inner workings of my nocturnal brain, I may just enjoy my AM amnesia! So instead, I thank her for the visit and tell her I will have my neon "Open" sign lit just for her if she ever wants to come back. That may very well have been the one and only, but she arrived at such a critical time, I am forever grateful.