30 Days of Truth, Day 14

30 Days of Truth, Day 14 – A hero that has let you down.

Dear Dad,

When I was little, the first thing you taught me to make was pie crust. I spent hours trying to get you to like it. You never did. The first time I made you pie as an adult- I made 4 batches of crust before I chose the one to use. You loved it- raved about it like you always had. I couldn’t even eat the rest of the chicken pot pie. I let it mold in the fridge because I was so overwhelmed by how much you’d loved it. You never understood how much we wanted to make you proud- knowing it wasn’t easy only made us all try harder to outdo one another.

You broke our mom’s heart every chance you got. Cheating on her with our best friends’ mothers even. You blew it on a personal level so many times it was hard to fathom you could look us in the face. You never failed to swoop in on birthdays and wow us. You always gave wonderful gifts- not that we’d ever asked for any of the things you gave us. You loved to spoil us- you just couldn’t be bothered to get to know what we loved. Unintentional- definitely. You were driven to work and cook- not to love and parent. Its simply a fact of life. You still owe mom a huge apology.

You’re the very shittiest Grandfather you could possibly be. You haven’t seen Alex since he was 6- and Issy was 1. She gets a confused look on her face when I mention Grandpa Greg. That’s really sad- Dad. You may not be my birth-father, but you’ve always been my Dad- and you sort of suck at it the older we get. Thanks for the online gift certificates to Victoria’s Secret- but really? You could just pick up the phone and call. Remember how much your girls love you- its what you owe all of us.

You were my hero when I was a little girl- and I thought you were the most amazing dad ever. Seeing how much less you cared the older we got was just sad, and really? I wish you’d remember that the restaurant wont take care of you when you’re old, or hold your hand when you’re dying. Be a real hero and be a father. Be a good husband- be an honest friend.

At the very least, be worthy of us calling you our Hero.


Sweet 16,000

I realized this morning that my blog has been viewed over 16,000 times. I have a few different reactions to that…

Panicked… since you’ve read along with me accepting my PHD, learning that I should avoid my favorite beverage, actually I’ve learned the Goose lesson a few times in the last few year. Here… and yet again. I told you,  I never learn the easy way. Isn’t the hard way more fun anyway?

Bitchy… though I’ve quit whining so much since I shook the dirty hippie.

Proud… of my son and daughter, and of myself, because it’s been a long year.

Relieved… because you’ve been there for me through the worst relationship of my life. Trying to love himtrying to leave himlearning how to stand up for myself… and finally, outing him as the shitbag he really is. Most of all I’m relieved it’s over.

Humble…You’ve had unlimited patience for my heathen ass lately… my learning to love being single… and a little slutty. You haven’t even thrown rocks at me when I’ve realized how blind I’ve been. Even when I whine about it.

Flexible… I’ve been brown and blonde… I like blonde better.

Embarrassed… because you’ve seen me through the nightmare that is Internet Dating, and there are so many bad dates to recount it’s funny.

Shy… because I’ve admitted to liking some scandalous shit in the last few months…such as a filthy mouth.

Sexy…I don’t get a lot of shit for it (and know some of you would LOVE to chew my ass out a little about him…I have to stop and thank those of you who fall in that category, for not giving me too hard a time about my Shark… consider the sweet satisfaction in rubbing my ex’s nose in my happiness… the leg-shaking earth rocking fun I have with him…and the delicious sexpot he’s turned me into. Scorching hot pornographic dreams certainly don’t hurt.

Domestic… because I garden, cook, can & bake the pants off most people.

Crafty… you’ve seen me through too many Halloween costumes to count… not to mention my ridiculous knitting addiction and Duct tape roses. White trash prom was enough crafty fun to last me a while 🙂

I’m learning, slowly… but I’m trying.

Thanks for hanging in there with me.

🙂


Talk foodie to me…

Ever realize a moment too late that you’re in shark infested water?

I’ll explain.

My dad is a chef- we grew up with Brie & Feta in the fridge- not cheese singles or mild cheddar (gag). We didn’t use ketchup on our food- in fact if I’m going to be completely honest- I still cringe a little when my kids squirt it all over something before they taste it. Thanks Dad. He taught me how to cook- how to bake- & how to eat. Admittedly- my sisters and I are a bunch of food snobs. Our parents had a bakery when we were little- He made the best birthday cakes ever- anything we wanted. He let us play in the kitchen while he worked and all of us can bake the pants off any man…

He was also quite a playboy. He left as many broken hearts in his wake as he did dirty dishes- & it was always a mixed blessing when Dad made dinner because the clean-up was intense. I realized as a teenager that he loved us all very much, but he lived to cook- and he was miserable without it. He wanted to be in the kitchen Christmas morning, even though he’d spent a fortune buying us all the things we wanted desperately. It’s his passion. He made every one of my favorite flavors for my wedding cake…  Sponge cake, Apple Spice, Carrot, Chocolate, Red Velvet, Lemon w/ Raspberries &  Huckleberry pound cake…. with Grand Marnier buttercream. He spoils the hell out of us every now and again. He can out-shop any man I’ve ever met- and introduced all of us to the magic of Victoria’s Secret gift cards- he’s truly one in a million. He’s the best dad in the world, when you’re standing in front of him. When you aren’t… life takes over and he gets back  to work. He’s had probably a dozen restaurants? ♥ him.

Which brings me back to the shark infested water I find myself swimming in.

Casual conversation with the man I adore…

J-What’s in that anyway?

He smiles at me & lists the ingredients… and he knows what he’s talking about…

More than me, even. <gasp> Stunned me straight silent… I was afraid of what I’d say if I opened my mouth. lol.

He knows more about food than I do… and it excites me more than I would like to admit. Go ahead and start waving your *Daddy Issues* flags, I’m waving my own right along with you.

I have to confess it’s a hell of a challenge because I can really cook- and admit fully to charming a man with my kitchen skills in the past…Hell I have a tart I made for a ex-boyfriend that makes me a fortune at the market every summer. I’ve always had this one in the bag before…