Category Archives: Family

The Last Straw

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2

Unfortunately my settings on one of these stupid dating sites has it chiming on my phone every time an email comes in, which is a lot. I finally sat down yesterday to change the settings in hopes of putting an end to the infernal distraction.

Success… oh and 22 new emails. I open the first one…

D- Hi.

That’s all. I see so many of these I just have to wonder what the hell these guys are thinking. You’re establishing contact with someone for the first time, hoping to spurn a response.

And all you’ve fucking got is Hi? Hello? Sup? Yo? Hey? I’ve seen them all and I never respond… but then you have to be a freak to ilicit a response from me because I’m only in it for the story at this point.

The playground is shut down for remodeling… and I’m a bored woman as a result. lol… I open the second email and it only gets better.

S-

4/28/2012 11:50:37 AM

Let me guess.. You found my profile more than a bit on the vulgar side.. Perhaps a bit disturbing as
well. you must have had a few glasses of wine to have even clicked on it.. I know your type.. Your a
mile above me.. And your clearly more than a bit too classy for my common ass.. but I might just
surprise you… And it’s not like I would expect you to tell your friends about me ;)

This guy has emailed me three times, and frankly; he’s repulsive. He’s not my type, I would really be being mean if I dated him.

What really stuns me, is that they make this assumption about me based on one picture, and one paragraph. Enough to insult me for not being interested in them.

They say women are crazy? Oh no. The penis-clad species is equally as crazy, if not more so, because they’re entitled to their jealousy. We’re supposed to understand that boys can be boys and “well you know he’s a man… he’s bound to be protective.

Turn those tables and you know what they call that girl? A date crasher. A stalker. A bunny boiler. Fatal attraction.

He’s protective, masculine, he just loves you a lot.

No. He’s a stalker and if I come up missing, check his house.

Yikers. A stalker is a stalker, is a stalker- and this guy is getting his panties in a bunch because he’s emailed me three times and I haven’t responded, but he can see that I viewed his profile.

Imagine him in real life. He’s the guy who stalks you daily, the one who wants to read your emails, look at your phone and account for every minute in your day and who you came in contact with. He “just stops by” and “just stays for the weekend”. Allowing this guy into your life is like petting a raccoon. They can imprint on you and follow you for life. They come in through windows, dog doors, chimneys. If they love you- they will do anything to be next to you.

It reminds me of fungus- no thanks.

The next email is a perfect example of why I’d really love to meet a nice woman every now and again. If anything inspires me to switch teams… it’s this guy.

USMC-

USMC

4/8/2012 12:18:29 AM
Wanna Chat
USMC

4/24/2012 10:59:16 PM
All girls like me I was in the military
USMC

4/24/2012 11:11:28 PM
And I have a very large penis

Yeah… he said that.

Like he actually expects a response finally that says “Oh well in that case, let’s chat” <eyeroll>

I don’t think I can even handle these internet retards any more. I may be officially ruined for men entirely.

Disgusted with the species… I signed out of the craziness that is meeting a date online.

I decided to make dinner and invite family over. My mama, her fabulous boyfriend, Sober One Kenobe and Mr. Man Card. My little princess.

Fresh pesto tortellini, asparagus, a green salad & garlic bread. Eclairs for dessert… with a glass of wine, around the kitchen table we’d pulled into the greenhouse and filled with spring flowers. It was a twinkly perfect evening full of the stuff that feels right. Family & friends and great food, laughing around the table in the light of white lights strung around the inside of the greenhouse with the smell of little tomatoes and flowers growing.

Internet dating cheapens what it’s supposed to be. You’re supposed to see a cute guy and smile. He’s supposed to ask for your number and you’re supposed to have dinner or something in this sort of circumstance. The twinkle lights are optional but I’d say they’re worth a few bonus points.

It’s supposed to be as good as dinner with your friends and family- it’s supposed to leave you smiling the next morning, washing a stack of dishes and throwing the tablecloth in the washer.

Internet dating is depressing- and that’s not what I’m looking for.

I can do without the creepy stalking oversharers.

I officially quit my internet presence as potential prey. I climbed out of the mud puddle.

……..and I feel cleaner already :)

Hope springs eternal… again.

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On a day that started too early, too sadly and in full on pity party mode… I took a shower, took my naughty mongrels on a walk and filled a mason jar with ice water and indulged my favorite habit…

Gardening ♥

A pair of bikini bottoms, a towel and my quart jar of water…. combined with 100* of heaven in the greenhouse- and my smile reappeared.

I have one thing that I don’t ever give away… my faith. I know that good things will happen. I know that I am surrounded by amazing friends who truly love me and a family so close we begin and end our conversations with “I love you”.

I have it all- including the freedom to choose what I want to do with my life, with my body and with my future.

I had so many lovely kind messages from friends near and far- little love notes via email or text- all day. I love all of you- and if I don’t express it often enough or so that you feel it, let me take a little moment to just say…

I love you, I appreciate you, and I must be doing something right to hear those two phrases from so many fantastic people when I need to hear them most.

I caught a few rays of sunshine. I fell in love with my baby tomato plants which have all sprouted in the last few days and are a lovely verdant variety of potential deliciousness. I stopped for an hour and coated my feet in cocoa butter. I painted my nails. I did my very best to find the goodness in a day that could have crushed me.

Warm and snuggly, smelling like chocolate and coconut suntan lotion- nothing can feel too horribly overwhelming. I sat down to work on my resume and realized it is missing in action…. and instead of putting off the inevitable, I took a shower, blew my platinum self dry and put my face on. Dressed, painted and nervous- I drove out to fill out an application at my job of choice… shaking in my shoes a little and doing my best to fake the confidence my friends think I have…. and I filled out the application and realized I know a helluva lot. I’m a farming, graphic designing super-server… I’ve got this. If not at my first choice? Somewhere else.

The woman at the restaurant was wonderful and kind. It was like a Bandaid on my nerves- and I left with a permanent smile, knowing at the very least that everything will work out just as it’s meant to, and relishing the thought of being appreciated at work. What a novel idea?

It was raining lightly as I crossed the bridge into the beautiful small town I live in, and the first thing I saw crossing our beautiful lake Pend Oreille? A rainbow.

Then another one.

I had just enough time to stop and get ice cream for my little princess, only to get a call letting me know that they’d closed work for the night due to some flooring issues and I would NOT have to work my least favorite shift on my poor damaged toe.

Did I say this was a bad day? This day is turning out to be downright fucking amazing. An impromptu night off with little red, ice cream in the cup-holder and hours ahead to lazily make dinner and take a bike ride if the weather cooperates.

Caprese salad and beef satay for dinner, because moms that get the night off ACTUALLY get to cook for fun. Coffee Haagen Daaz, the new Footloose movie and nothing but hope coursing through my veins on a day that started so dimly.

God bless Redbox, God bless a surprise night off…

and God bless the people in my life that remind me not to give up and feel hopeless.

Little Red smiled at me and giggled.

R- We should buy some scratch tickets, crank the music and dance. We should eat dinner in the greenhouse, take a bike ride and paint our nails.

And that’s exactly what we did.

Icing on the cake of a day that started out badly and ended with the two of us in PJ’s, planting basil, nasturtiums and bells of Ireland…

Singing at the top of our lungs and dancing our hearts out… ♥

Mommy Bliss

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My daughter is having a slumber party for her birthday… with a mustache theme. I’m so confused about how on earth mustaches became popular again, or at any time for that matter… and my daughter wants mustache everything. She’s hand drawing mustaches on the balloons for her party. She’s just as cute as it gets- but this mustache thing is weird… lol.

However- I love a challenge, and am determined to make her a mustache cake. I searched online, found a great bunch of suggestions and baked two 9″ layers of her favorite vanilla bean cake, make a batch of chocolate buttercream and colored it black. I stacked and chilled the two layers and carved them into a yin-yang shape. After a little carving and comparing and flipping one over… I had the perfect mustache. A couple layers of black chocolate buttercream and… success.

She was delighted. It actually is delicious- even with all that black dye… so your teeth are a little grey for a while, it wears off. :)   Sober One Kenobe did hair and they all got a goodie bag full of make up… they were quite the little pageant trio… eating candy and watching movies until the wee hours of the morning. Sigh… girlie slumber parties are the best part of being a little girl. Staying up late giggling and talking about boys. Eating candy until you’re sick.

I caved and bought the helium tank…. and we laughed while we listened to them sing after sucking helium out of balloons. It was one of those magical moments in childhood you never forget- and watching from the other side of it made it all the more special.

She’s growing up. <sob> and when she wanted her makeup done I had to swallow hard when she winked at me. There are moments that the sun hits her in the face and I’m struck by freckles and deep fiery blue green eyes and

I’m. Just. Speechless.

Her brother being gone makes me that much more overprotective- and she’s learned to manage me… If she takes a bike ride, she texts me every ten minutes. I’m learning to give her freedom, and she’s learning how hard it is for me to watch her grow up so fast. She used to be at our local hippie-dippie private school where they gave you a birthday verse to read to them and I tried to look hers up and I couldn’t even read it without crying. I tried. I promise… but I couldn’t make it through the first sentence.

Yeah… nothing says “Happy Birthday!” like your mom sobbing and choking out your birthday verse. I figured it was ok to skip it, for the sake of preserving the “Happy” part of the birthday.

Listening to the girls giggle and sing three part harmony, Chipettes style, was priceless. Relighting candles on her mustache cake that were more like sparklers. Sparkly giggly girl fest… and swimming in chocolate & Skittles. I have a sugar headache this morning and need about 8 hours more sleep. I’m supposed to be in the garden and I just want to eat a salad and sleep.

So I made strawberry shortcake for breakfast…a little hair of the dog… lol

Slumber parties prepare us for hangovers, ladies! I haven’t been drinking since Easter and I feel hungover this morning. Too much sugar, lack of sleep… yep. It makes sense. lol :)

We’re spending a lazy Sunday covering the garden with landscape cloth to burn off the weeds, watching movies and eating more strawberry shortcake…

With a pizza delivery in our future? Hmm…perhaps?

Just after our pedicure and story in bikinis, on beach towels on the greenhouse floor. Ahhh. 85* and sunny….with our favorite music on the stereo we set up under the planting table.

Mommy Bliss. Quiet time. Giggly time. Just TIME… finally. I’m promising myself from here on out to pick something else up so I can have a full weekend with her at least once a month. It’s necessary.

Plus my nails are dyed black from the frosting… I’m going to have to paint them black to go to work on Tuesday.

Simple happiness in the moments I treasure most. Not concerned about a thing in the world beyond which movie to watch next or whether or not to add a pink stripe in the bunny dress I’m knitting.

She’s falling asleep sitting up, watching me knit… leans over and lays her head on my knee…

Poof… out… silent… with too much eyeliner on. :) Looking every bit the princess I know she is… and so vastly different from the tiny baby she was. It’s all gone by so quickly…

So I added the pink stripe… if only to remember the moment when she was like my tiny baby again, curled up on my lap, sound asleep, while I knit her another bunny and memorized her freckles for the millionth time.

Nothing beats mommy time & it could only be better if her brother were here too.

Mommy bliss… and baby bliss… or… pre-teen bliss. <gulp>.

I should have been more irresponsible and had more kids. This is all going by too quickly and I don’t want to do it again.

Hold your babies too much. Play too much Patty Cake. Read too many bedtime stories.

It’s really true when they say that someday they won’t want you to.

One day, they really don’t.

Reading Green Eggs & Ham to yourself isn’t nearly as fun, but still… slow down and read it for the trillionth time.

Trust me… you’ll never regret it.

Undeterred.

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9

I spent my day off cleaning the things I never have time to clean. Putting away Easter decorations, bleaching the floors and cracking out on the entire house with a dozen boxes of Magic Erasers.

It’s not like me to plug anything, but if you haven’t tried the Magic Eraser, go get one now… don’t even bother to finish reading this. They’re… magical. My cupboards are sparkling. My floors are so clean the sun shining through crystal clear windows is blinding me.

I’m on a domestic high… and baking too. I’m happy.

Regardless of the disastrous state of my love life, I love every single second of the day. I love my job, and my coworkers are like an extended family. I’ve never had friends as close as the many I have in my life right now, and I’ve been planting heirloom tomatoes for 2 days. My inner Mormon girl is beaming.

By some stroke of pure luck, I have the next 3 days off. I’ll have time to play in the garden. I’ll have time to ride bikes and eat ice cream cones with my little red. I’ll finally have a little time… and in a clean house?

Nothing makes me happier or more at peace. I like all my ducks in a row. I like having a handle on my life. I feel better and am sleeping at night for the first time in months. I’m clear headed and focused and finally disappointed in myself for selling myself so short.

So I’m planting for peace…

The list of tomatoes grew as I planted… because some just can’t be left behind.

I have the following this year:

  • Tomatillos
  • Speckled Striped Roma
  • Aunt Ruby’s German Green
  • Pruden’s Purple
  • Black Krim
  • Blondkopfchen
  • Mexico Midget
  • Brandywine
  • Amish Orange Roma

and entirely too many planted… yet again. I step foot into the greenhouse, turn on some music and pour myself a cup of sun tea… and I lose track of how many tomato plants are enough. I cant only plant 10… they have to be in even numbers because I’m type A like that. I have broccoli, basil, fennel and dill to plant today… with endless garden cleanup tomorrow. I’m excited again about it being as beautiful as it was the year before last. I lose myself when my garden is a mess. I can at least control the plants in my life, if nothing else.

I’m reinforcing my garden fence, chick-style. I can’t rebuild it, nor do I want to- but I’ll be damned if those deer are going to eat it again this year. My new neighbors are going to have a stroke when they see the ghetto-tastic structure I have in mind… but it’s going to work, and eventually it will be really beautiful. It’s just going to look a little crazy…. I’ll post pictures when I get it done.

I have an acre to weed, 30 packs of seeds and a zillion onions, shallots and potatoes to plant. I have a project… along with oiling windowsils, washing the greenhouse roof and painting the kitchen & hallway. I have something to focus on and it reminds me how much time I’ve been wasting trying to make a douche bag into delightful.

When you start with a hoarder you end with a hoarder… that’s all there is to it. If he’s married when you meet him? He’s going to be married when you part ways with him as well. Leopards do not change their spots- and if you question his character or his motives from the beginning, for God’s sake take a lesson from my suffering and run like hell.

There are nice guys out there… but none of us meet them because we’re too busy wasting time with men who disregard us and darken our spirit.

If he’s not worth dating, he’s certainly not worth sacrificing your smile over. So he’s hot… there are lots of hot guys. So he’s smart… not if he’s acting like an asshole and treating a woman disrespectfully- that’s not a smart guy. So he’s amazing in bed… well… that sucks to give up, but honestly- lots of men are and if you are really honest with yourself… he’s probably not all that hot in the sack- you’re probably just looking at him with rose-colored lenses.

Chances are good when you’ve stepped back, or made a list… or had amazing sex with someone else?

Chances are good you’ll be able to laugh at yourself for being heartsick over someone so unworthy.

Then it’s just embarrassing, or funny… or something to chastise yourself about as you take your lovely self for a walk… or a bike ride… or to the greenhouse to plant tomatoes.

Happiness is everywhere around you, and only a small percentage of it is spent romantically. If I find the happiness in my own personal life and in within my own daily details, then I don’t have room or desire to waste it with someone who doesn’t want to be just as happy as I am.

Happiness doesn’t come from lying, cheating or disrespecting someone… it comes from wanting to love your own life.

In falling back in love with my own, I’m eliminating any room for less than what I’ve got going on right now.

The man in my life can either enrich it or fail to exist entirely. I have kids, cats & dogs… family, friends & a full time job.  I have more garden than any woman should be allowed to have… but more than anything?

I have faith in my ability to have what I want, when I want it, and on my own terms.

Independence is a beautiful thing…and it should take a helluva man to talk me out of some of mine.

Easter? No thanks.

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5

It’s been too long of a month… and it’s only the 4th. My son’s birthday is looming and I’m in a tailspin as a result. How do you face a day that you’ve both anticipated and dreaded for what feels like eternity? What do you give the child who hates you? Your beloved firstborn who is filled with nothing but animosity for you?

Money works, right?

It coincides with Easter… which also happens to be the first one I’ll be spending alone since I became a mother at the ripe old age of 18.

Chocolate eggs? No. Deviled eggs? Gross.

Give me a fluffy tail and a set of ears… and perhaps a pair of egg print panties. I’m bailing on the whole holiday.

Frankly, I’m disgusted with so much I’d only be a buzz kill anyway. I’m exhausted, I’m not sleeping and I’m running on feet that are cracking and bleeding from the shitty shoes I’m in love with. Ouch. The fanatical pedicure I got did not help… it feels like I’m walking on glass.

I don’t like my sheets, I can’t get comfortable and I’m so disgusted with myself for even venturing down the Bad Habit path I could vomit. Once a hoarder, always a hoarder. I keep hearing the same quote wind in and out of my head…

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing twice and expecting different results.

I’m fucking miserable. There. I admit it. I miss my kids. I miss this being the week to dye eggs and knit shit they could care less about. I have the cutest bunny on my knitting needles and absolutely no reason to even finish it. I have hours in the day I should dedicate to sleep and not much more. I have a trillion and one things to do and absolutely no desire to do a single thing. It’s official… I’m depressed.

So… No. Fuck you, Easter Sunday… and all that you imply, demand and represent. I was raised by Atheist parents… let’s face it- the whole thing is a stretch anyway. I have a healthy imagination, but even I struggle with the whole resurrection thing.

I believe in a few solid things…

I work Saturday night and will be able to actually sleep in Sunday morning. For the first time in 18 years. I want to kiss my children’s step-mother for that.

I’m not having an Easter party for the first time in a decade. Amen. Triple Amen. I can track dirt in and out of the greenhouse all week and nobody will die, or give a shit for that matter.

The only way to kick a Bad Habit is to know in your soul that you deserve so much more than to be treated like so much less than you are. The guy deserves a lot of things, but I am not one of them.

I have absolutely no idea how to write a screenplay. None. I have equally as much desire to learn…. but so far? My peanut gallery is weeping with joy over my Puerto Rican nightmare chronicles….

… oh…. my…. and then there’s the good karma that comes with being so vulnerable.

I take it back, God…. because my darling Flintstone is potentially flying in on Sunday to be my very own Peter Rabbit to the very hot playboy bunny I morphed into after pulling out the dress ups.

Go ahead, put your judgey panties on while you shop for shit your kids don’t want and wont notice. Hate me while I kick my work clothes off, shave, shower and slip into my ears and tail.

This bunny is gonna get some Flintstone in her basket, and even finding the gold egg doesn’t come close to that.

Happy holidays y’all… eat a few foil wrapped treats for me…. I prefer mine wrapped in a tie and cuff links. Mission accomplished, and may peace be with you.

And also with me.

xoxo