30 Days of Truth, Day 23

30 Days of Truth, Day 23 – Something you wish you had done in your life.

I wish I’d had more children. Not with the dirty boat stealing asshole, but with someone… I just wish I’d had them.

Because now I’m pretty over it. I love kids and I love babies- I really love babies…. but my kids are getting older, they’re funny and interesting and they both are a joy to spend time with. They listen to me when I ask them to do things, they both do well in school and both of them are kind, polite & respectful. I’m very blessed….and it’s been a hell of a lot of work. I wouldn’t do anything differently if I had to do it over again, but I’m exhausted even considering the idea. I’ve been defined by my motherhood for so long, and I’m enjoying having a life of my own too. I have to be able to function beyond being their mother and caring for them. All three of us have to know how to live life individually.

But I miss the 5 year old and newborn I planned on having after my two. I always wanted 4- two of each, ideally- all 5 years apart. Oddly enough it’s exactly the spacing of my ex-husband’s family, with his step-daughter and their new baby boy. I’m so thankful they have a baby and let me play with him 🙂 It’s wonderful to have little kids around again- but at the same time… I think I’m done.  At this point if I got pregnant tomorrow, (which would be impossible) I would be 35 by the time the baby was born and 53 when they graduated from high school. Holy Hell NO.

Assuming lightning struck and I met Mr. Perfect, dated him for a year or so, got married, spent some time alone together and then decided to have a baby? I’d be 56-60 when he/she graduated. Sorry to be blunt, but oh fuck nooo. Not me. No thanks.

I’d rather be the young mom- and I’d rather enjoy the children I have- I just wish there were two more of them already running around, to over-protect & adore.

30 Days of Truth, Day 21

30 Days of Truth, Day 21 – (scenario) Your best friend is in an accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?

This is one of those days I’ve had to avoid for a while. It hit a little too close to home and I didn’t want to write about it. One more reason to blog… my blog= my universe. I’ve gotten 3 emails asking me to continue… ok ok ok.

My best friend died in 2002.She was 68 and incredibly important to me.

I met her in 1995… 18 years old , pregnant and living with my high school sweetheart. She became like a best friend, teacher & Grandmother all in one. She lived in the trailer next to ours and I was 8 1/2 months pregnant with our son (@ 18 years old) and mowing the lawn. I thought she was going to have a heart attack when she looked out the window and saw how pregnant I was. She came running out with lemonade and an offer to finish it for me and we were best friends from then on. She was a grandmother to our son, and our daughter 5 years later. Vera was … words fail me actually- sometimes it’s impossible to describe how important some people are in your life.

Losing her made me reconsider everything in my life.

She always worried I wasn’t happy. She always said I was doing/giving/being someone I wasn’t… too much. She was right. Her death marked the beginning of my marriage’s unraveling. I’d been planning on having lunch with her the next day- and she’d gotten mad at me the last time we talked.

V- I hate your house. I want you to sell it and move back here.

J- I know you do. I miss you too. But you don’t mean that. How about we put your trailer here?

V- I’m sorry. I love you.

J- I love you too.

She died that night.  The neighbor called me the next day. Absolutely the saddest day of my life. A day that will make me appreciate and be kind to my ex-husband forever. He came home and took care of everything that day. He helped remind me that everything would be ok. He drove me to pick out her clothes. He was there for me in the hardest moment of my life when I felt like the world had come to a screeching halt. I couldn’t understand why people still drove around and the evening news was still on. It really devastated me.

and if I hadn’t called and talked to her, she would have died being angry at me…. and I don’t know how anyone could live with that. I’ve learned a great lesson in losing Vera.

I say “I Love You” too much. I smile at everybody (ok, not all the time, but most) I give people extra change if they need it. I buy the shitty over-priced cookies from the school cookie dough fundraiser because it’s important to my daughter (even though mine are much better and an 1/8th of the cost). Because I’d rather go out on good terms with everyone and I’d rather lose someone who knows in their soul that I love them. I’d rather err on the side of loving too much, too easily and out loud.

Thanks to Vera Lou- who used to sing “My Buddy” to me on my answering machine when she missed me.


30 Days of Truth, Day 20

Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.

How sacrilegious is it if I write this with a buzz?

Drugs… Hmm. I’m fairly tolerant in my old age, which surprises me because I used to be a complete D.A.R.E. crusader. I never touched a single drug in high school. Both of my children grew in a completely drug free body… and then I got divorced… and dated a guy who grew pot for a living. At a certain point, no matter what you’d like to think, if you can’t beat them, you join them. I spent my year as a stoner. Blissfully going full tilt crafting… because the one thing he didn’t realize, is that if you get a Mormon-Roots girl stoned, you’re going to to have to brace yourself for the overdrive crafting. I sewed fresh cranberry wreaths, I hand appliqued felted cashmere dog coats. I canned 97 jars of Salsa… and more. I painted half of the rooms in the house, learned how to install laminate wood flooring, and put new linoleum in the laundry room.

I’m definitely not your garden variety stoner. I get shit done. The ex? Not so much. He never finished anything.

Alcohol… hmm… again… this is a little funny to type with a vodka & soda to my right.

Alcohol can get you into a lot of trouble… and it can get you into some pretty sticky situations. If you think life is difficult… just add alcohol… and hang  the hell on. It’s the ultimate napalm. It can make a good situation golden… and it can make a bad situation a nightmare. It can cap your evening and you can enjoy it while you unwind in front of Grey’s Anatomy or you can pour one for your favorite man (woman) and enjoy it in a whole other way. Alcohol isn’t to be feared, it’s to be respected. Don’t be a drunk asshole- and don’t be abusive. If you can handle your liquor you can sit next to me.

If you can’t handle your drugs & alcohol?  You can fuck off- ya cracked out alcoholic.


30 Days of Truth, Day 19

30 Days of Truth, Day 19 → What do you think of religion?

Religion is a tough one for me. I was raised by atheist parents, essentially. My step father was Rosicrucian. My mother was raised Mormon. Neither really said much about it. Occasionally my mother would decide we should be going to church and we’d go for a few weeks. Any sign of intolerance or bizarre religious teachings and we were back to staying home on Sunday mornings. Something we all preferred.

Until my son was born three months before my nineteenth birthday with a rare eye condition, leaving him completely blind in his right eye. We flew over to an eye hospital to have him evaluated for eye surgery when he was 3 weeks old. All I could do was hold him, nurse him… and cry. At the time I was surrounded by other mothers who had prayer to fall back on. They were so much more at ease with the situation. I was lost. Thinking about all the things he wouldn’t do… and feeling responsible, somehow. I’d been a saint my entire pregnancy. Several of my friends had partied through theirs…. and my baby was the only one who could only see with one eye. I was angry at the world.

My dear Grandma Blanche told me to go to church. She said she didn’t care where I wanted to go, but told me it would offer me some comfort. We tried all of them. I could write a book on that whole ordeal. We are most comfortable in the Catholic church, something that delighted her because she’s also Catholic. She’s also my Godmother.

I love Mass. It makes me feel a million times better. Like a big reset button on my life. However- I think a lot of it is completely bullshit. I’m a salad bar Christian. I struggle with believing any of it given the way I was raised, but I absolutely have to give respect to how much better I feel after I go.

I think religion is to comfort you when you don’t know how to comfort yourself. Plain and simple. When you need to be reminded to do the right thing- you can listen to yourself or you can look to your faith in religion.

It’s a hard one to swallow- for sure- but if you can? You have more than yourself to rely on when shit goes south…and that certainly can’t hurt.

30 Days of Truth, Day 18

30 Days of Truth,Day 18 – Your views on gay marriage.

***Disclaimer*** My view on marriage in general is that I find it rather unhealthy for all parties involved. Sorry to those of you who’ve chosen a life sentence- I just don’t personally want one for myself. As I’ve said in the past… I love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but I like steak and shrimp too. I don’t want to eat either every day for the rest of my life. I like a variety of things, and that includes men. So shoot me. I’m not saying you can’t eat PB&J every day- just that I don’t want to. All those statements fly right out the window should Reggie Bush come knocking on my door. So I suppose we all have our breaking point?

That said. I think anyone who denies the right to eternal bitching and moaning to anyone, is a bigoted asshole. It makes no difference if there are two penises or two vaginas in the marital bed, marriage is difficult, and anyone who knowingly and willingly wants to enter into captivity is absolutely welcome to, in my opinion. Better them than me, for that matter.

What’s the big threat, anyway? Does a gay marriage threaten, in any way, any lunatic bible beating Christian marriage? No. I don’t understand the insanity behind their argument. How does it hurt anyone? Other than the couple who willing give up the the thrill of the chase and new sex? I could see the logic in a thrice divorced wealthy businessman who has lost everything, begging his friends to reconsider. Telling them all the reasons NOT to get married. I could get behind that guy. Hell I could help him sharpen his argument.

A boring fat white fuck who does nothing but mow his lawn, preach the gospel and utter homophobic idiocy? No. Not my guy. That guy can sit back in his dirty armchair with his snot-nosed kids while enjoying his welfare check funded by the gay couple fighting for the right to the same nightmare- and he can fuck right off. Nobody should be listening to that guy.

We all know the poster children of the anti-gay marriage movement. It’s not the cream of the crop, by anyone’s standards. These are the white trash, racist, homophobic nightmares you will only find in the good old USA. The trailer trash of hurricane alley. Those folks. Why are we even considering taking opinions from the lowest rung on the food chain?

I’d rather go with the guy that knows Dolce from Gucci. The guy that dresses so well we know he’s gay just by how beautiful he looks. That guy. The guy that knows theater, and the difference between porcini & oyster mushrooms.Give me the most flamboyant and stereotypically gay man over any white trash dirtbag bible beater.

How is this even an argument?

Anyone who loves someone so much they’re willing to give up everyone & everything else- to be with that person? Deserves to try.

If only to learn that they should have listened to me in the first place.

Trust me…. variety is the spice of life.