So I had all this shit planned out to say but I lost it all when I COULDN'T REMEMBER MY PASSWORD. APPARENTLY, I havent been here in quite some time. I put my password in my "notes" section of my phone -- so basically anyone can have access to my words in typed form should I ever lose my phone. I know how much people just want to take this shit over.
Anyways, hi there, how have you been, whatcha been up to, how many adventures have you been on and shit like that...
So we are coming up on the year anniversary of when the-now-ex-husband wanted me to getthefuckoutofdodge. For those that have missed it, here's the recap:
I found sext messages.
I confronted him.
He neither confirmed nor denied.
I said what do you want.
He said take the kids and get out.
I took the kids and got out.
Christmas came.
Christmas went.
New Years came.
New Years went.
I got a new job.
I love the new job.
Divorce court came.
Divorce court went.
The news came.
The news stayed.
My job is no longer new.
I still love no longer new job.
The twins were born.
The twins are almost three months old.
You do the fucking math.
So that's that in a nutshell. What have I gotten out of that fucking madness? You like the above list? I can start the list again.
The list isn't even needing to be a list per se because all the goodness I have doesn't deserve to be in some sort of an order. I have happiness and clarity. Are you asking is that it; that's all I need because in those two items holds a lifetime of meaning. It, of course, is MY lifetime of meaning. You can create your own, but don't sponge off mine because mine does no good for yours.
I did just move, for those of you that don't know, and I'm happy to say that this move was on MY own terms which basically means one more start over, but I am okay with that. Start overs are what make amazing stories in our lives.
But for the list makers and lovers out there, I will leave you with this:
My children are happy.
Therefore, I am happy.
I am happy, therefore, I have a guy that does more than hang around with me.
That guy, he adores my kids.
My kids, they adore that guy.
The job I mentioned above? I still very much love it.
I've lost some friends but gained more meaningful ones.
This year has been nothing short of a ridiculous mess, but out of the rubble comes some amazing moments. I cherish those moments because they are what keep me going.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Monday, July 8, 2013
It's Been a Lifetime Since I Last Posted...
...silly me though, it's been approximately one a half months. How can it seem like a half a lifetime has passed -- and could I be any more melodramatic?!
This blog is exhausting the fuck out of me. The only fucking time I come here and write is when something detrimental (or fucked up in laymens' terms) happens. I'm tired of it. Where are the posts of silly stupid things because I have had PLENTY of those things happen. Just at Home Depot on Friday in fact or, or even at Target the other day with the parting of the seas and Moses -- yeah, those of you who have heard the story know what I'm talking about.
Anyways, I have funnies ALL THE FUCKING TIME. I really do; whether it's seriously something silly or just something I choose to find humor in because, fuck it, isn't that what every day life is all about -- finding the silly fucked up shit to tell stories about to people. I know, I really, really know that humor is what gets me through in life. I love to make people smile. I love to make people laugh. I even love to make people roll their eyes at me because behind said eye-rolling is a smile.
I am going to admit right now -- I am fucking tired. I'm not quitting or any stupid shit like that cause mommies and daddies aren't supposed to quit. I'm just admitting defeat. I've pulled up my big girl panties for quite some time now. I'm not quitting. I am, however, admitting I would like a nap now. And by nap I don't mean any long ass session -- an hour, hour and a half would be nice. In that hour and a half I would really appreciate if someone would come to my rescue and fix some of the shit I fucked up. And by fix some of the shit I fucked up I really mean, just rub my head and give me goosebumps and let me fucking sleep for an hour and a half...and when I wake up kiss my nose and have a bowl of chili with extra cheese and sour cream ready for me to eat.
On a side note, I joke about my kids going to need to therapy. I no longer joke about that. I am straight up admitting that I will be sending them to therapy one day. The only thing I hope for is that they see that I'm trying and have always tried and they see that I'm still trying to do right by them by sending them to some third party for guidance. I admit my role in fucking them up. I have never denied it. I'm so fucking sorry my actions have helped put them there (see, I'm not taking full responsibility, two to tango or some fuckery like that), but I really hope one day they forgive me for my role in their fucked-up-ness because I love them so much. I want to, and have to hope that, the path I put them on leads them to some greater and better understanding of themselves and the world they live in. I hope they find the compassion I dream of for them and that compassion lives on in their future - and that they forgive me and realize I didn't intentionally mean to fuck up their world but that because I love them so much I will take the blame and try to get them to a better place...the place I always wanted them to be -- better than "here"
This blog is exhausting the fuck out of me. The only fucking time I come here and write is when something detrimental (or fucked up in laymens' terms) happens. I'm tired of it. Where are the posts of silly stupid things because I have had PLENTY of those things happen. Just at Home Depot on Friday in fact or, or even at Target the other day with the parting of the seas and Moses -- yeah, those of you who have heard the story know what I'm talking about.
Anyways, I have funnies ALL THE FUCKING TIME. I really do; whether it's seriously something silly or just something I choose to find humor in because, fuck it, isn't that what every day life is all about -- finding the silly fucked up shit to tell stories about to people. I know, I really, really know that humor is what gets me through in life. I love to make people smile. I love to make people laugh. I even love to make people roll their eyes at me because behind said eye-rolling is a smile.
I am going to admit right now -- I am fucking tired. I'm not quitting or any stupid shit like that cause mommies and daddies aren't supposed to quit. I'm just admitting defeat. I've pulled up my big girl panties for quite some time now. I'm not quitting. I am, however, admitting I would like a nap now. And by nap I don't mean any long ass session -- an hour, hour and a half would be nice. In that hour and a half I would really appreciate if someone would come to my rescue and fix some of the shit I fucked up. And by fix some of the shit I fucked up I really mean, just rub my head and give me goosebumps and let me fucking sleep for an hour and a half...and when I wake up kiss my nose and have a bowl of chili with extra cheese and sour cream ready for me to eat.
On a side note, I joke about my kids going to need to therapy. I no longer joke about that. I am straight up admitting that I will be sending them to therapy one day. The only thing I hope for is that they see that I'm trying and have always tried and they see that I'm still trying to do right by them by sending them to some third party for guidance. I admit my role in fucking them up. I have never denied it. I'm so fucking sorry my actions have helped put them there (see, I'm not taking full responsibility, two to tango or some fuckery like that), but I really hope one day they forgive me for my role in their fucked-up-ness because I love them so much. I want to, and have to hope that, the path I put them on leads them to some greater and better understanding of themselves and the world they live in. I hope they find the compassion I dream of for them and that compassion lives on in their future - and that they forgive me and realize I didn't intentionally mean to fuck up their world but that because I love them so much I will take the blame and try to get them to a better place...the place I always wanted them to be -- better than "here"
Monday, May 27, 2013
Enjoy the Ride...I'm Trying To...
One would think that after a four-hour delay it would be easy to fall
asleep on an airplane and especially after a four-day New Orleans
extravaganza. However, at this moment I had two choices of what to do;
either twirl my hair mercilessly or watch my boyfriend's head two rows
ahead of me bob and weave and eventually come to rest on his neighbor's
shoulder while he slept (i.e., the poor bastard who was lucky enough to
sit in the middle seat on said flight). I first opted for the hair
twirling, but my carpal tunnel was acting up so I stared so long at the
bob and weave that I started seeing trails. These two options lasted me
an entire fifteen minutes of entertainment. So this brings me to you
because apparently typing on the "notes" section of ones iPhone passes
the time rather quickly. No lie, it really did make the hellish trip go
by relatively fast.
I opened up the notes section of my phone to read what I had written. It was straight up pitiful, but that's okay because it was 12:57 in the morning after four days of awesome goodness filled with plenty of laughter, drinks and best friend goodness a girl could ever ask for. So I'm coming home from an amazingly fun vacation where new friends and new memories were made. However, I'm begging these memories to flood my sleep-deprived brain but they don't take pity on me. I'm coming up on the realization that I left town a mere 12 hours after I received the news of my exhusband telling me the "friend" he cheated on me with was pregnant. I should re-word that because it doesn't read quite just right. Ooh, ooh, I missed a couple of words -- six months pregnant. Apparently, I missed the memo where it says being the last to know is the "in" thing nowadays. Do not fret because this isn't anything to be jealous over. Those of you who have been reading my super fun-filled-not-so-much drama may not be surprised at this new twist, and to be honest with you, neither am I because the "cheating" was the reason behind the divorce after all. I'll have to admit here, however, that the time frame was a little bit much to take it, swallow and not vomit (which I did successfully mind you - the not vomiting part).
Do not get me wrong friends because I have much to be thankful for. I am in a good place overall in this "My So-Called Life" series you have tuned into. I have a job that I can say I truly enjoy after being in my field for about 16 years. I have absolutely amazing and funny ass and supportive friends. I have a kind and thoughtful and adorable guy who is still hanging around despite all the excess baggage I'm carrying. The reason for my sadness -- this is not the life I envisioned for my children.
Jillian is old enough that she feels disappointment and sadness over this situation. I'd love to tell you I'm above all this shit, but I have zero desire to continue to encourage a relationship between her and her (ex)stepfather at this point. I'd never stop her, but I know she feels a sting inside. However, the positive I am grabbing from this situation is that in the past six or seven months her father has been playing a more active role in her life. For this reason, I am grateful that the heartache I dealt with brought her to a better place with her dad. I guess I'll take that and run with it.
I feel sad for Andrew because I am scared his father will play a less active role in his life. I understand that I cannot worry about something that isn't happening in the present, something that is not happening right before my eyes, but I cannot turn away from something that tugs at my heart. In complete honesty, however, I am frightened for the heartbreak that will eventually come when the boy is old enough to put two and two together, do the math and come in contact with some sadness or anger or resentment towards his father. I'm a realist and while I am aware this may not happen, I'm pretty positive that there will come that day that changes my son's heart in a way, and no matter how little it changes him, it will change him and this breaks my heart.
Again, I didn't envision this life for my children, and maybe it won't play out this way. It's not something I will ever know until it happens. Regardless, my thinking about it now, while it won't make it any easier to handle should it happen, makes me stand a little bit taller knowing that my kids are the last thing I think about before I go to bed. Being that realist, I know it is not my duty to protect my children from the cruelty of the "real world" but rather to prepare them for it. However, this does not comfort my heart when I think about the possibilities that lie ahead for them.
I guess in the end -- no, not guess, but know -- I know in the end that while this is not my doing, not my fuck up, not my fault, I am beyond pissed that I am forced to be involved in a situation that is out of my hands. I hold no responsibility in the fact that my exhusband was an absolute dumbass and let himself get into this situation. However, I'm a bit salty that because of his fuck up I am going to be forced to pick up any pieces that may fall at the feet of my children. I'm far from innocent in causing any therapy sessions I may have to pay for in the future, but this one tops them all. I am pretty sure I could handle it better if it were my fuck up, but I can't help but be resentful that I have to deal with someone else's fuck up.
So in moving forward, I will continue to focus on all that I have gained in my divorce and not on what I lost. If I sit and think about it, I have lost so much in my divorce, and all that I lost was negativity, sadness, heartache. Instead, I will focus on all that I have gained, and all that I have surrounding me -- people that truly care for me, love me in some way, and only want the best for me and my children. I cherish these people more than I could put into words because the words would never touch the depth of my gratitude.
I opened up the notes section of my phone to read what I had written. It was straight up pitiful, but that's okay because it was 12:57 in the morning after four days of awesome goodness filled with plenty of laughter, drinks and best friend goodness a girl could ever ask for. So I'm coming home from an amazingly fun vacation where new friends and new memories were made. However, I'm begging these memories to flood my sleep-deprived brain but they don't take pity on me. I'm coming up on the realization that I left town a mere 12 hours after I received the news of my exhusband telling me the "friend" he cheated on me with was pregnant. I should re-word that because it doesn't read quite just right. Ooh, ooh, I missed a couple of words -- six months pregnant. Apparently, I missed the memo where it says being the last to know is the "in" thing nowadays. Do not fret because this isn't anything to be jealous over. Those of you who have been reading my super fun-filled-not-so-much drama may not be surprised at this new twist, and to be honest with you, neither am I because the "cheating" was the reason behind the divorce after all. I'll have to admit here, however, that the time frame was a little bit much to take it, swallow and not vomit (which I did successfully mind you - the not vomiting part).
Do not get me wrong friends because I have much to be thankful for. I am in a good place overall in this "My So-Called Life" series you have tuned into. I have a job that I can say I truly enjoy after being in my field for about 16 years. I have absolutely amazing and funny ass and supportive friends. I have a kind and thoughtful and adorable guy who is still hanging around despite all the excess baggage I'm carrying. The reason for my sadness -- this is not the life I envisioned for my children.
Jillian is old enough that she feels disappointment and sadness over this situation. I'd love to tell you I'm above all this shit, but I have zero desire to continue to encourage a relationship between her and her (ex)stepfather at this point. I'd never stop her, but I know she feels a sting inside. However, the positive I am grabbing from this situation is that in the past six or seven months her father has been playing a more active role in her life. For this reason, I am grateful that the heartache I dealt with brought her to a better place with her dad. I guess I'll take that and run with it.
I feel sad for Andrew because I am scared his father will play a less active role in his life. I understand that I cannot worry about something that isn't happening in the present, something that is not happening right before my eyes, but I cannot turn away from something that tugs at my heart. In complete honesty, however, I am frightened for the heartbreak that will eventually come when the boy is old enough to put two and two together, do the math and come in contact with some sadness or anger or resentment towards his father. I'm a realist and while I am aware this may not happen, I'm pretty positive that there will come that day that changes my son's heart in a way, and no matter how little it changes him, it will change him and this breaks my heart.
Again, I didn't envision this life for my children, and maybe it won't play out this way. It's not something I will ever know until it happens. Regardless, my thinking about it now, while it won't make it any easier to handle should it happen, makes me stand a little bit taller knowing that my kids are the last thing I think about before I go to bed. Being that realist, I know it is not my duty to protect my children from the cruelty of the "real world" but rather to prepare them for it. However, this does not comfort my heart when I think about the possibilities that lie ahead for them.
I guess in the end -- no, not guess, but know -- I know in the end that while this is not my doing, not my fuck up, not my fault, I am beyond pissed that I am forced to be involved in a situation that is out of my hands. I hold no responsibility in the fact that my exhusband was an absolute dumbass and let himself get into this situation. However, I'm a bit salty that because of his fuck up I am going to be forced to pick up any pieces that may fall at the feet of my children. I'm far from innocent in causing any therapy sessions I may have to pay for in the future, but this one tops them all. I am pretty sure I could handle it better if it were my fuck up, but I can't help but be resentful that I have to deal with someone else's fuck up.
So in moving forward, I will continue to focus on all that I have gained in my divorce and not on what I lost. If I sit and think about it, I have lost so much in my divorce, and all that I lost was negativity, sadness, heartache. Instead, I will focus on all that I have gained, and all that I have surrounding me -- people that truly care for me, love me in some way, and only want the best for me and my children. I cherish these people more than I could put into words because the words would never touch the depth of my gratitude.
Monday, May 6, 2013
A Post Filled with Profanity is the Only Way I Roll...
I have two children who are such ungrateful little assbags. You know I made you feel better by saying out loud exactly what you've thought on at least one occasion (although my money is on "more than one"). Besides getting the usual regular life shit like a roof over their heads or a bureau full of new spring and summer clothes or a fridge full of food so that they can bitch to everyone within earshot that they're soooo hungry, they get things like *gasp* birthday party fun with their friends even though it's completely out of my way to go and grab one kid at her dad's house and bring her back to her dad's house on a day that isn't even mine or let's not forget about carting asses around to playgrounds and school dances and playdates and sleepovers and insert here any other pain in the ass thing I do for them just so I can hopefully get a smile at the end of the day.
Therefore, I don't think it's too fucking hard to entertain your asses for an hour while I begrudgingly mow the goddamn lawn. You would have thought I took a hatchet to my daughter's ankle and left her bleeding in the backyard while I sipped on wine and laughed and pointed at her when I asked her to play with her brother while I did my chores on a shit ass Monday nonetheless. Instead of slapping the look right off her face, I asked her if she would like to mow the lawn. You can guess what the answer to that question was. So, in true pre-teen fucking fashion what does she do; if you said played lovingly with her brother and they both played ring around the fucking rosie and laughed when they all fucking fell down, you're wrong. I suppose she thought by tormenting her brother and causing him to hit her and yell at her that would make me stop doing said mowing of the goddamn lawn and play fucking trucks. She was wrong.
Rather, let me share with you the truth of my reality on this wonderful sunny spring afternoon. I ripped the earbuds from my ears, stopped the mower and proceeded to not-so-kindly yell across the lawn, "Is it really ALL THAT HARD to play, you know, like kids do, without punching each other or teasing each other or throwing trucks at each other?! It would be REALLY FREAKIN' FANTASTIC if you would STOP. IT. NOW BEFORE I FREAK OUT!"
Oh yeah, let me get to the very best part; the part where I slam the earbuds back in my ears, pull the cord to the mower while saying for fucks sakes already, start pushing the fucking lawnmower with a scowl on my face and stare horrifyingly at the two elderly ladies going for a nice stroll down my dead end street. It was either turn my ass around and pretend I didn't see them or wave like a sweet bitch, but before I can decide what to do, I see before me two ladies who clearly felt my pain because they smiled and waved and gave each other that all knowing look of moms who have been there, done that. *sigh*
I am pleased to announce that the two bags of asses that are my children did stop the fighting shit for the rest of the time. I have no goddamn idea why because that's not the first time they've been in trouble, but I don't question when small miracles happen right before my eyes. I accept it and move on to the next fucking chore that I have to do and know that I'll make up for it and be awesome in another mom way the very next chance I get.
Therefore, I don't think it's too fucking hard to entertain your asses for an hour while I begrudgingly mow the goddamn lawn. You would have thought I took a hatchet to my daughter's ankle and left her bleeding in the backyard while I sipped on wine and laughed and pointed at her when I asked her to play with her brother while I did my chores on a shit ass Monday nonetheless. Instead of slapping the look right off her face, I asked her if she would like to mow the lawn. You can guess what the answer to that question was. So, in true pre-teen fucking fashion what does she do; if you said played lovingly with her brother and they both played ring around the fucking rosie and laughed when they all fucking fell down, you're wrong. I suppose she thought by tormenting her brother and causing him to hit her and yell at her that would make me stop doing said mowing of the goddamn lawn and play fucking trucks. She was wrong.
Rather, let me share with you the truth of my reality on this wonderful sunny spring afternoon. I ripped the earbuds from my ears, stopped the mower and proceeded to not-so-kindly yell across the lawn, "Is it really ALL THAT HARD to play, you know, like kids do, without punching each other or teasing each other or throwing trucks at each other?! It would be REALLY FREAKIN' FANTASTIC if you would STOP. IT. NOW BEFORE I FREAK OUT!"
Oh yeah, let me get to the very best part; the part where I slam the earbuds back in my ears, pull the cord to the mower while saying for fucks sakes already, start pushing the fucking lawnmower with a scowl on my face and stare horrifyingly at the two elderly ladies going for a nice stroll down my dead end street. It was either turn my ass around and pretend I didn't see them or wave like a sweet bitch, but before I can decide what to do, I see before me two ladies who clearly felt my pain because they smiled and waved and gave each other that all knowing look of moms who have been there, done that. *sigh*
I am pleased to announce that the two bags of asses that are my children did stop the fighting shit for the rest of the time. I have no goddamn idea why because that's not the first time they've been in trouble, but I don't question when small miracles happen right before my eyes. I accept it and move on to the next fucking chore that I have to do and know that I'll make up for it and be awesome in another mom way the very next chance I get.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
My Own Milestones...
A helicopter mom I am not. However, I am a mom who stalls and drags her feet at certain milestones when it comes to my daughter. She's almost 12, and she's an amazingly sweet girl and has earned herself a bit of freedom. I let her go to school dances (as if I had a choice because it's either let her go or listen to her huffs and puffs all night while ignoring me as she sits on her Kindle). I got her a cell phone (but I make her buy her own minutes and I have free reign to check the damn thing any time I want). She roams our new neighborhood with her friends and always is diligent about calling and checking in letting me know she hasn't been abducted. So I figured the time has come to let her walk home from school. There really is no reason to say no. The route that takes her from school to our new house has sidewalks and they're really all side streets anyway. Hell, she has a cell phone which she can hopefully quickly dial 911 fast enough should my town hold a crazy abductor or some shit I freak myself out with on a weekly basis.
So I decided three weeks ago to give this a try; let her walk home from school all by her big girl self with one rule; call me when you're leaving school and call me when you get home. As an aside, I should mention at this time that her father informed me that he would be following her in the car to make sure she was all right. This in turn reminded me of when my dad told me he followed me once upon a time when I walked to the corner store for, gasp, penny candy. It was awesome. Not only was I scoring mom points for letting her walk home by herself, but I needn't worry cause dear old dad is apparently more paranoid than I am. I am proud to say that she did exactly as she was told and called me both when she left and when she got home safe and sound.
Let's fast forward to quitting time for me at work where all I had to do was go home. There were zero stops to be made. There were zero concerns that I was going to hit traffic and be late picking her up. In fact, I was thinking to myself as I pulled into my driveway -- why the hell hadn't I done this earlier in the school year. This shit was awesome and opened up a whole new world of possibilities - FOR ME!!! Shit, I could run errands after work while she walked home and did her chores. Shit, I could work late and grab some extra cash while she walked home and did her chores. Shit, I could just have a little extra "me" time and take the long way home and sing at the top of my lungs to my tunes semi-carefree.
Yes, re-reading this I realize how selfish I sound, but I know for a fact, anyone with kids that have been up their asses for years now can share in my happiness of a little extra time in their day being their own. It's not a lot but 15 minutes is all it takes to put a new perspective on things. I don't care that I sound selfish because I know from the get-go it wasn't ever about me. I had her best interest in mind the entire time. I am just excited to have found a benefit for me in all of this that I will take full advantage of.
I am realistic though and realize I will drag my feet when the next milestone comes along because that's just the kind of mom I am. I want to make sure my kids are ready for the next phase of their world. I know sometimes you have to throw them into it and let them experience it, but I refuse to do it blindly for them. I am just hoping that in all my nail-biting, feet-dragging mommy moments, I am helping, not hindering them along the way -- just like my very vague job description tells me to. I love those little shits of mine. They make me so very proud and prove to me that no matter how often I think I'm failing them I really am doing something right by them.
So I decided three weeks ago to give this a try; let her walk home from school all by her big girl self with one rule; call me when you're leaving school and call me when you get home. As an aside, I should mention at this time that her father informed me that he would be following her in the car to make sure she was all right. This in turn reminded me of when my dad told me he followed me once upon a time when I walked to the corner store for, gasp, penny candy. It was awesome. Not only was I scoring mom points for letting her walk home by herself, but I needn't worry cause dear old dad is apparently more paranoid than I am. I am proud to say that she did exactly as she was told and called me both when she left and when she got home safe and sound.
Let's fast forward to quitting time for me at work where all I had to do was go home. There were zero stops to be made. There were zero concerns that I was going to hit traffic and be late picking her up. In fact, I was thinking to myself as I pulled into my driveway -- why the hell hadn't I done this earlier in the school year. This shit was awesome and opened up a whole new world of possibilities - FOR ME!!! Shit, I could run errands after work while she walked home and did her chores. Shit, I could work late and grab some extra cash while she walked home and did her chores. Shit, I could just have a little extra "me" time and take the long way home and sing at the top of my lungs to my tunes semi-carefree.
Yes, re-reading this I realize how selfish I sound, but I know for a fact, anyone with kids that have been up their asses for years now can share in my happiness of a little extra time in their day being their own. It's not a lot but 15 minutes is all it takes to put a new perspective on things. I don't care that I sound selfish because I know from the get-go it wasn't ever about me. I had her best interest in mind the entire time. I am just excited to have found a benefit for me in all of this that I will take full advantage of.
I am realistic though and realize I will drag my feet when the next milestone comes along because that's just the kind of mom I am. I want to make sure my kids are ready for the next phase of their world. I know sometimes you have to throw them into it and let them experience it, but I refuse to do it blindly for them. I am just hoping that in all my nail-biting, feet-dragging mommy moments, I am helping, not hindering them along the way -- just like my very vague job description tells me to. I love those little shits of mine. They make me so very proud and prove to me that no matter how often I think I'm failing them I really am doing something right by them.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Superheros Drink Wine and Play Horseshoes
I am just going to get right to it and you can just get right back
into reading and tell me how happy you are that I've found my way back.
This past Friday my divorce went through, and not one of you people
dare utter anything along the lines of "wow that was fast" or any
combination of words that make my Trip de Divorce seem like a breeze.
I'm just a girl who doesn't have time to fiddlefuck around. I have a
life to live you know, kids to raise, shit to take care of so let's get
things rolling.
However, in retrospect, I will admit that it was pretty fast even though at the time of going through it all I didn't think that the quicksand-sucking-me-in-too-fast-feeling was going to end. So let's count all the ways I could have lost my shit and never come back but I'm too strong to give in shall we. While there are many moments I am sure I cannot recall and there are most definitely many moments I do not care to remember, the thing I can recall with the utmost clarity are the words I said to myself the day my heart fell out of my chest the moment that I was informed my wifely duties were no longer needed, thanks for playing, don't come back now was 'what am I going to do now.' I think it took me less than 12 hours for the answer to come to me, and it said loud and clear 'whatever it takes because there are a couple of special people counting on you.' So I did exactly that; I found myself a job outside of the home back into the office. I then found a place in town to rent a house, not just an apartment but a whole house, because it would be completely unfair to rip the kids out of their schools, and I knew there is nothing worse in the eyes of a tween then being ripped out of sixth grade to go and fend for herself in another school with *gasp* people she didn't know since kindergarten and try not to sink but to swim.
So, with those two major things in place I moved out in November and pretended to never look back. I clung to my friends and family who refused to let me drown. I drank too much wine and muddled through the holidays with snots and tears running down my face from time to time. I laid awake more nights than I slept from anxiety and fear that I would let my kids down. I admit to using Hamburger Helper from time to time because it was easier. I lost my first job that I had gotten and refused to let that break me, and that path brought me to the job I currently have, the job which is, quite frankly, freakin' perfect for me, and that I actually do very much like. I also came to enjoy the "me" time I don't remember really ever having or taking full advantage of in the past. I go to the gym and run 5Ks because it's a terrific way to let out aggression and feel accomplished. I hung out, and continue to hang out, with friends that I know I neglected and made sure to make memories with them that will cause us to say more often than not, "Remember when..." and then fall into fits of laughter because yes, yes I do remember when. I also am now realizing how much I am capable of. I never really believed deep down inside I would fail my kids because that's not the type of person I am.
So in thinking about the past year and all the ridiculous events that unfolded causing the demise of my marriage, and my, let's face it, inevitable divorce, instead of having a pity party, I am spending my time actually seeing how far I've come. While I don't own my own house right now, it's okay because I own a lawnmower, and that pretty much makes me somewhat of a homeowner, or at the very least, a big girl who has to do things by herself, for herself, for her kids because that's what it means to do what you have to do. I am not considering this part of my path in life a bump in the road simply because I have learned so much about myself since this started but rather a real, honest-to-goodness, not-cliche-at-all second chance, or in my case, third chance. As the old saying goes, the third times a charm, and while I've never had reason to believe those silly words, I am slowly realizing that whoever started that saying might just know what the hell they are talking about. It makes me realize that if someone were to ask me, do I have everything I want, my answer would be yes because my kids are happy and my kids are happy because I never let them down.
So in closing, what came to me as I was mowing my lawn after work, besides that, shit, I have a much larger yard than I first realized, is that superheros come in all shapes, sizes, and strengths, and they really do exist not just in the movies or in life-and-death newsworthy situations. I should know because I would like to believe that I am proof. Also, my birthday is coming up, and I would really, really like it if someone could bring me, besides a box of wine (red, ahem), a set of horseshoes. I really, really am looking forward to playing horseshoes, in my freshly mowed backyard, with my incredible, never-once-thought-to-let-me-go friends and family.
*cheers my friends*
Psst...if I try really hard to keep my page up, you can find me at Confessions of a Truu Mom
However, in retrospect, I will admit that it was pretty fast even though at the time of going through it all I didn't think that the quicksand-sucking-me-in-too-fast-feeling was going to end. So let's count all the ways I could have lost my shit and never come back but I'm too strong to give in shall we. While there are many moments I am sure I cannot recall and there are most definitely many moments I do not care to remember, the thing I can recall with the utmost clarity are the words I said to myself the day my heart fell out of my chest the moment that I was informed my wifely duties were no longer needed, thanks for playing, don't come back now was 'what am I going to do now.' I think it took me less than 12 hours for the answer to come to me, and it said loud and clear 'whatever it takes because there are a couple of special people counting on you.' So I did exactly that; I found myself a job outside of the home back into the office. I then found a place in town to rent a house, not just an apartment but a whole house, because it would be completely unfair to rip the kids out of their schools, and I knew there is nothing worse in the eyes of a tween then being ripped out of sixth grade to go and fend for herself in another school with *gasp* people she didn't know since kindergarten and try not to sink but to swim.
So, with those two major things in place I moved out in November and pretended to never look back. I clung to my friends and family who refused to let me drown. I drank too much wine and muddled through the holidays with snots and tears running down my face from time to time. I laid awake more nights than I slept from anxiety and fear that I would let my kids down. I admit to using Hamburger Helper from time to time because it was easier. I lost my first job that I had gotten and refused to let that break me, and that path brought me to the job I currently have, the job which is, quite frankly, freakin' perfect for me, and that I actually do very much like. I also came to enjoy the "me" time I don't remember really ever having or taking full advantage of in the past. I go to the gym and run 5Ks because it's a terrific way to let out aggression and feel accomplished. I hung out, and continue to hang out, with friends that I know I neglected and made sure to make memories with them that will cause us to say more often than not, "Remember when..." and then fall into fits of laughter because yes, yes I do remember when. I also am now realizing how much I am capable of. I never really believed deep down inside I would fail my kids because that's not the type of person I am.
So in thinking about the past year and all the ridiculous events that unfolded causing the demise of my marriage, and my, let's face it, inevitable divorce, instead of having a pity party, I am spending my time actually seeing how far I've come. While I don't own my own house right now, it's okay because I own a lawnmower, and that pretty much makes me somewhat of a homeowner, or at the very least, a big girl who has to do things by herself, for herself, for her kids because that's what it means to do what you have to do. I am not considering this part of my path in life a bump in the road simply because I have learned so much about myself since this started but rather a real, honest-to-goodness, not-cliche-at-all second chance, or in my case, third chance. As the old saying goes, the third times a charm, and while I've never had reason to believe those silly words, I am slowly realizing that whoever started that saying might just know what the hell they are talking about. It makes me realize that if someone were to ask me, do I have everything I want, my answer would be yes because my kids are happy and my kids are happy because I never let them down.
So in closing, what came to me as I was mowing my lawn after work, besides that, shit, I have a much larger yard than I first realized, is that superheros come in all shapes, sizes, and strengths, and they really do exist not just in the movies or in life-and-death newsworthy situations. I should know because I would like to believe that I am proof. Also, my birthday is coming up, and I would really, really like it if someone could bring me, besides a box of wine (red, ahem), a set of horseshoes. I really, really am looking forward to playing horseshoes, in my freshly mowed backyard, with my incredible, never-once-thought-to-let-me-go friends and family.
*cheers my friends*
Psst...if I try really hard to keep my page up, you can find me at Confessions of a Truu Mom
Friday, March 22, 2013
Friday Morning Goodness...
I almost forgot how much I like to write, but I also remember that I hate to re-read my prior sad, bitchy, whining, sometimes funny posts because most days I walk this fine line where any little thing could kick me in the face and force me to my knees so I tend to steer clear of putting my words on "paper." Today, however, I find myself feeling really strong, and it really is no surprise that I feel this way on a Friday morning after taking my spin class (yes, I still consider it mine even though I've been MIA for a few months now) and visiting with one of the few women I hold very high up because she always has the right words for any given moment without even trying.
There I was feeling all smug that I was still able to hold my own in this class because let's face it, no amount of running (or insert whatever it is that is your go-to exercise) can prepare you for the onslaught of a crotch killing, cardio blasting meltdown that is this class, and I was quickly reminded of how far I've come in a relatively short time. There was a time about eight/nine months ago that I would come to this particular class just because I knew I could forget about what was going on in my personal life for 60/65/70 minutes. It was what I looked forward to; a moment's peace that I could grab onto for a short period of time. My brain reminded me today of the many times I would leave that class with Gail's words ringing in my ears and cry alone in my car before I went home. I felt so overwhelmed, and I could not see that I would ever be able to crawl outside of this hole I had fallen into. Her words (and that every other day sob-fest) were the only thing in that moment that helped me find myself again and try again the next day. Okay, in all honesty, I will admit that the kids' survival had something to do with it too, but they often get all bitchy and shit so sometimes they weren't entirely the reason I kept going.
I could do the whole "thank you list" of people that have helped pick my sorry, pathetic, bitchy ass back up but that list continues to grow, and I'd hate to miss anyone. I will say that today was the first day in a very long time that I didn't have to pick myself up and keep going. This morning is a day where I truly feel like it's all ahead of me now but not as far as I once thought it was and completely within my reach to get it. That, my friends, is not a place I really thought I'd be in or at least not for a much longer time. Hell, even my therapist is impressed so I gotta pat myself on the back for taking that first step so many months ago. I should pat myself on the back for a lot of things, but that sounds way too cocky right now, and I am a big believer in that shit comes back to bite me in the face so I'll just stick to what I know. The one thing that I do know is that it's always been up to me to fix the very-broken girl that lives inside me, and while I'm still healing, I can finally see that the struggle, turmoil and all the tears shed will eventually be worth the bruises I've gotten.
*cheers*
There I was feeling all smug that I was still able to hold my own in this class because let's face it, no amount of running (or insert whatever it is that is your go-to exercise) can prepare you for the onslaught of a crotch killing, cardio blasting meltdown that is this class, and I was quickly reminded of how far I've come in a relatively short time. There was a time about eight/nine months ago that I would come to this particular class just because I knew I could forget about what was going on in my personal life for 60/65/70 minutes. It was what I looked forward to; a moment's peace that I could grab onto for a short period of time. My brain reminded me today of the many times I would leave that class with Gail's words ringing in my ears and cry alone in my car before I went home. I felt so overwhelmed, and I could not see that I would ever be able to crawl outside of this hole I had fallen into. Her words (and that every other day sob-fest) were the only thing in that moment that helped me find myself again and try again the next day. Okay, in all honesty, I will admit that the kids' survival had something to do with it too, but they often get all bitchy and shit so sometimes they weren't entirely the reason I kept going.
I could do the whole "thank you list" of people that have helped pick my sorry, pathetic, bitchy ass back up but that list continues to grow, and I'd hate to miss anyone. I will say that today was the first day in a very long time that I didn't have to pick myself up and keep going. This morning is a day where I truly feel like it's all ahead of me now but not as far as I once thought it was and completely within my reach to get it. That, my friends, is not a place I really thought I'd be in or at least not for a much longer time. Hell, even my therapist is impressed so I gotta pat myself on the back for taking that first step so many months ago. I should pat myself on the back for a lot of things, but that sounds way too cocky right now, and I am a big believer in that shit comes back to bite me in the face so I'll just stick to what I know. The one thing that I do know is that it's always been up to me to fix the very-broken girl that lives inside me, and while I'm still healing, I can finally see that the struggle, turmoil and all the tears shed will eventually be worth the bruises I've gotten.
*cheers*
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Rantings of a Sick and Whiny Bitch...
I am sick. I have not been sick in a long time. I am, however, grateful that I am not sick like most of you people have been. I just happened to get my daughter's head cold. That's what I get for snuggling her and kissing her goodnight I suppose. How dare she get me sick after all I do for her.
I'm sitting here in my pink fluffy robe, a cuddlescarf that barely leaves my neck, a hat and slippers. Yes, I have my heat turned on. I just refuse to get a chill. That's the worst -- oh, and not sleeping. So with not sleeping comes a torrent of bullshit that won't stop entering my mind. The biggest bullshit line I keep telling myself not to believe myself when I tell myself is that I keep making some seriously fucked up mistakes that are going to one day land my kids in therapy. It seems as if every move I've made on the game board the past couple of years has been the exact opposite of what I should have been doing. I mean I swear I thought I had learned some lessons from prior wrong moves made, but at this point in time it seems like I can't get out of my own way and can't possibly stop myself from screwing up. So at about 3:00 a.m. this train of thought needed to be derailed and thought as logically as possible. These moves I'm making are supposed to be made because it is within these moves that I will get what I need, what I'm searching for and will eventually get. I will eventually reach the spot of security that I will second-guess every chance I get but never take for granted because it seems so long since I've felt that. I worry about that because I hope I am not reflecting my feelings of insecurity onto my children. They should never feel that way every, and it is my job as their mother, the authority figure, to make sure that I not pass that shit onto them.
I'm working on about 3.25 hours of sleep right now and my foggy head wants to lay down on this desk and pretend something, anything better than how I'm feeling. I know this is just another moment I need to work through, and one day I will reach the point where it won't be so hard to work through. I'm going with that day should be a nice spring day sitting out in my nice big backyard overlooking the water that is hitting my backyard watching the ducks swimming by with a cup of coffee in my hand and the morning sun warming my face. Yes, that is exactly what I'm striving for, working so hard for, that exact moment that I know isn't too far off. It may only be January, but if I can make it to my newly envisioned happy place, then I'll continue to beat the bullshit that gets thrown my way. I suppose I'll dig a little bit deeper now and hold on just a little bit longer because a day like that here in New England, in my very own backyard, does exist sooner rather than later.
*cheers my friends*
Confessions of a Truu Mom on FB
I'm sitting here in my pink fluffy robe, a cuddlescarf that barely leaves my neck, a hat and slippers. Yes, I have my heat turned on. I just refuse to get a chill. That's the worst -- oh, and not sleeping. So with not sleeping comes a torrent of bullshit that won't stop entering my mind. The biggest bullshit line I keep telling myself not to believe myself when I tell myself is that I keep making some seriously fucked up mistakes that are going to one day land my kids in therapy. It seems as if every move I've made on the game board the past couple of years has been the exact opposite of what I should have been doing. I mean I swear I thought I had learned some lessons from prior wrong moves made, but at this point in time it seems like I can't get out of my own way and can't possibly stop myself from screwing up. So at about 3:00 a.m. this train of thought needed to be derailed and thought as logically as possible. These moves I'm making are supposed to be made because it is within these moves that I will get what I need, what I'm searching for and will eventually get. I will eventually reach the spot of security that I will second-guess every chance I get but never take for granted because it seems so long since I've felt that. I worry about that because I hope I am not reflecting my feelings of insecurity onto my children. They should never feel that way every, and it is my job as their mother, the authority figure, to make sure that I not pass that shit onto them.
I'm working on about 3.25 hours of sleep right now and my foggy head wants to lay down on this desk and pretend something, anything better than how I'm feeling. I know this is just another moment I need to work through, and one day I will reach the point where it won't be so hard to work through. I'm going with that day should be a nice spring day sitting out in my nice big backyard overlooking the water that is hitting my backyard watching the ducks swimming by with a cup of coffee in my hand and the morning sun warming my face. Yes, that is exactly what I'm striving for, working so hard for, that exact moment that I know isn't too far off. It may only be January, but if I can make it to my newly envisioned happy place, then I'll continue to beat the bullshit that gets thrown my way. I suppose I'll dig a little bit deeper now and hold on just a little bit longer because a day like that here in New England, in my very own backyard, does exist sooner rather than later.
*cheers my friends*
Confessions of a Truu Mom on FB
Monday, January 7, 2013
Why, Hello There...
Yes, I am still around. Yes, I do still exist. In fact, I am finally doing more than just existing so that's a wonderful thing. Do I teeter? Sure as shit I definitely do. Do I throw pity parties for no reason other than I want to cry just because? Yes, yes, I do, but I am here. I can breathe without it hurting every day. In fact, I can go days breathing now without it hurting. It's a nice feeling when you stop and think about the past week and realize you can't pinpoint an exact moment of pain. It's quite the opposite of what it used to be; being unable to pinpoint an exact moment of happiness. So, clearly, I'm moving on, moving past, moving through.
With the holidays behind us and a normal routine beginning once again, yesterday the kids and I had a very long overdue pajama day. No one put shoes on as we didn't even step out of the house. I got snuggles and giggles all day. I noticed the little things that I've been missing and am so glad I made a conscious effort to stop for a whole day. My ass went numb from doing absolutely nothing all day. It was as perfect a Sunday as I could have asked for.
I am also grateful to be able to say that I am no longer at the beginning of my new "journey." I'd never wish that shit on anyone that's for certain. I call bullshit on myself actually. I should be honest and say that, yes, yes, I do wish that on one person in particular but I'm only human and shouldn't be condemned for it. Now I'm regressing so back to where I was trying to go with these thoughts of mine. I do not wish to ever be in that beginning place again. It was dark and lonely and frighteningly sad. I will forever be learning more about myself and for that I am grateful. Now that I've started to open my eyes and look at and listen to myself, I'm not so scary. Sometimes it sucks to realize something new about yourself, but in the end it always feels so good because being aware feels so much better than hiding.
I've always tried to hold onto the comforting thought that this new road I'm on will bring me new adventures and new people. I'm happy to report that I have already had the pleasure of having a new person come into my life and share her friendship with me. It's nice to add her into the mix of my world because my days are better having her around. If all I get is one new friendship out of this mess I was in, then I consider it a blessing. However, I know in my heart that I will have many more blessings to count as I continue along because now that I am holding my head high, my whole perspective is changing, and with a new perspective comes new chances of not missing the important moments and the important people.
*cheers my friends*
With the holidays behind us and a normal routine beginning once again, yesterday the kids and I had a very long overdue pajama day. No one put shoes on as we didn't even step out of the house. I got snuggles and giggles all day. I noticed the little things that I've been missing and am so glad I made a conscious effort to stop for a whole day. My ass went numb from doing absolutely nothing all day. It was as perfect a Sunday as I could have asked for.
I am also grateful to be able to say that I am no longer at the beginning of my new "journey." I'd never wish that shit on anyone that's for certain. I call bullshit on myself actually. I should be honest and say that, yes, yes, I do wish that on one person in particular but I'm only human and shouldn't be condemned for it. Now I'm regressing so back to where I was trying to go with these thoughts of mine. I do not wish to ever be in that beginning place again. It was dark and lonely and frighteningly sad. I will forever be learning more about myself and for that I am grateful. Now that I've started to open my eyes and look at and listen to myself, I'm not so scary. Sometimes it sucks to realize something new about yourself, but in the end it always feels so good because being aware feels so much better than hiding.
I've always tried to hold onto the comforting thought that this new road I'm on will bring me new adventures and new people. I'm happy to report that I have already had the pleasure of having a new person come into my life and share her friendship with me. It's nice to add her into the mix of my world because my days are better having her around. If all I get is one new friendship out of this mess I was in, then I consider it a blessing. However, I know in my heart that I will have many more blessings to count as I continue along because now that I am holding my head high, my whole perspective is changing, and with a new perspective comes new chances of not missing the important moments and the important people.
*cheers my friends*
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