Stomping some toes

Before I jump on my soapbox, just remember I don't expect you to instantly convert to my opinion.  It is mine, and mine alone, and if you agree great, if not great I will still love ya.  This is not intended to hurt anyone's feelings or piss anyone off, just me stating my feelings over something that kinda bugs me.  Now on to the show...

A local news station posted an article on facebook this morning, the title says 'Interracial Marriages hits new high in US'...Ummm wait a sec, wasn't the US created by immigrants and welcomes them still?  That kinda means there's a few interracial marriages going on here.  HELLLOOOOO.

But wait, I'm confused.  Is anyone 'pure blood' anymore?  Especially here in the US?  I mean I'm Cherokee and Choctaw Indian (or Native American or American Indian for those PC peeps, I will forever be an Indian, sorry), I'm also Irish and possibly Scottish and German.  Bo is Cherokee Indian as well and other roots we have yet to pin down...technically that makes us an interracial couple, am I wrong?  But no one has ever gotten up in our face about it, nor have we ever heard anyone whisper 'oh those two, it's interracial you know, that's just wrong'.  How come folks like us slide under the radar, when we are no different than any other 'interracial' couple out there?  Oh I know why... ~insert MASSIVE eye roll here~

Anyone else get diarrhea over hypocrisy?

I could go on and on and ON about this topic, but I won't.  I'm not doing this to stir some chaos, I'm doing this because I truly do not get it.  No one is 'pure blood' around here anymore, hell even the Royal family isn't 100% Brittish.  Queen Elizabeth II is Armenian, Arab, British, Chinese, Cuman, French, German, Greek, Hungarian, Italian, Monegasque, Norwegian, Old Prussian, Portuguese, Romanian, Russian, Serbian, Spanis, Swedish, and Yugoslavian...didn't know that did ya (wiki it, you'll see)??  And aren't the Royal family known for their pure blue, royal blood line....hmmmm.

I wouldn't be here if there wasn't some interracial nooky going on, neither would my parents or theirs, or Bo and his and so on and so forth.  So I don't see what the big deal is.  Let it go.  We don't need a stupid survey to state the absolute obvious that has been going on since the beginning of time.  It kinda happens when one country invades and takes over another.  Duh.  It kinda happens when people immigrate to one country.  Duh.

Not to mention, in my opinion, if you bitch about it, you are kind a bitching about your own existence, unless you are a rare person with 100% heritage.

Stepping down now.

One of those days again

My moods are a lovely roller coaster ride in Hades.  Let's be honest.  I get random bad thoughts suddenly and my mood goes from perky to depressed in a blink of an eye.

Like last night, as I was trying to fall asleep I had this horrible image in my head and thoughts and gut wrenching fear when seconds before I was happily snuggling up against Bo.  Those thoughts ruined it, making me lose my breath and get so uncomfortable I started wiggling and sighing.  He knew something was up and asked what happened.  I told him.  Didn't want to say the words out loud so I slowly whispered them one by one, I will not pass them on here, because I hate saying the thoughts out loud and would rather just forget them.  Except I can't.

I was so tired last night thankfully that it didn't last long and I was asleep fairly quickly, but in the not so bright light of today my mood is down.  All because of my fantabulous imagination.  I don't want to do housework, I don't want Jocelyn out of my sight and having Bailey at school has me all itchy and fidgeting.  The fact that Bo is working....it's like trying to breathe through a thick blanket.

It's shitty to live inside your own nightmare.  My brain is a diabolical bitch and I can't escape it without meds to shut it all up.  I don't want to take anything.  I want to get this under control on my own.  I am stubborn when it comes to medication, in case you haven't noticed.  You can take whatever you want, I'll support you, I'll even give it to my kids if I have to, but I would rather suffer through things than take meds.  

It's all rainy and yucky today as if Mother Nature is matching to my mood...too bad it's only making it harder to be 'normal' today.

I have Pandora playing on my iPhone, I have my headset on, and I'm keeping the tunes light and happy.  Otherwise I'll give in and bury myself under the covers and refuse to leave my safe cocoon until Bo comes home.

Egg donor

You know how some 'men', and I use that term loosely because having a penis and balls does not make you a man, are labeled sperm donors?  Here's a new on, an egg donor.

Here is the proof.  Read it.  All of it.  All the comments and BS this egg donor left on her daughter's blog.  It's absolute filth.  Nothing but lies.

I have met this woman.  I have seen her snotty ass in the flesh, and that of her bitch born daughter Elisha.  Who is such a lovely spawn....The day she met me you know what she did?  It was the day Miss and Seth were moving to California, I was pregnant (the first miscarriage, and wasn't supposed to lift anything) and so I was sitting on a chair outside the apartment.  This girl sits down next to me and starts complaining and whining about Miss and saying all kinds of mean and hateful things about her.  Complains of them having to help her, as if the idea of helping anyone, most especially her sister, was absurd.  She didn't lift a finger that day that I can remember, and acted as if she was being forced to do all the work.  Oh and that entire day she was being an absolute jerk toward me for no reason whatsoever.

Take it back, yeah she did have a reason, I was Miss' friend and was defending her, and Elisha was and still is, just a selfish, spoiled brat/bitch.

And the mom, Deenna, don't even get me started on her fake as hell 'sweet and loving' mom routine.  You ever been around someone that was clearly fake?  So fake it was like acid dripping out of her mouth when she spoke kindly to you?  That's her.  To a T.  I remember thinking how the crap did Miss come out normal that day, over and over.  And the stories I have heard, and the proof I have seen with my own eyes, has kept that thought bouncing in my head ever since.

Then they go and do this shit.

What kind of 'loving' mother does that?

What kind of person DOES THAT to someone?

An egg donor, that's who.

Miss has had it rough, rougher than most of the people I know, she's one tough cookie but doesn't see it.  I love this girl, she's my sister by choice and I would do anything for her.  So while I feel bad bashing my best friends mom and sister here, it's 100% truth, and Miss DOES NOT DESERVE THIS.  I'm posting about it because I want this woman to see what support really is.  What love really is.  What kindness really is from someone who does it out of the goodness of their heart, not for attention for themselves.  I doubt she ever understands.  I seriously doubt she'll ever 'see' what she's done and continues to do.  I could be wrong, but her track record clearly says she can't grasp this concept.

I'm infuriated to say the least that her 'mother', most especially, has stooped to this level.  At anytime this is beyond disgusting, but right now as she's in the beginning of a divorce, it's just down right cruel.  There's no reason to do this EVER.  Only a cold hearted, cruel egg donor does this to someone.

I'm happy to say that we have her back, her friends and I, those who actually love and care for her.  And we will not let this shit fly anymore.

Oh and if either of you are reading this, feel free to leave a comment full of your lies and excuses.  Just remember you have no power over me, and your words are nothing more than word vomit.  But it sure as hell will make me giggle.

Waving a finger at 2011

It's Tuesday, January 3, and the holidays and 2011 are officially over!!! HOT DAMN!!!

Did you survive?

Did you start a new hobby to help you manage the stress...like drinking?

Mine is curling myself up in a fetal position and singing the Backyardigans theme song before I go to bed.  It's quite calming.

I woke up this morning and was like aaaahhhh life is about to go back to normal now.  Bo went back to work today, Bailey goes back to school tomorrow and I'll be left alone with Squirley the screwnugget all day trying desperately to get/keep my house clean.  Although I'm looking around now and realizing, I have been cleaning a lot over the past week and the house looks way better.  Merry Christmas to me!

2011 was a rough year for me emotionally.  It was a full year that I was not on happy pills and let me just say OMFG I understand why those little bastards were invented.  If I liked the dazed and confused feeling they give me I'd get back on those suckers right now.  But I'm still iffy on them, and still wanting to do this on my own.  Who knows I may stop being stubborn in 2012 and take them again.  It was the year Jocelyn completely confirmed my suspicions that she really is a flying by the seat of her pants kinda girl.   She ate toothpaste, vitamins, and any piece of food she found on the floor.  Anything is her sucker, including toy hammers and hangers.  She's a sneaky, mouthy, dominating klepto.  WE ARE SO TOTALLY SCREWED UP THE BUNGHOLE is our new slogan.  It was the year Bailey's attitude/emotions/anger seemed to blow up suddenly into something we had never witnessed before and was frightening coming out of a 6 year old.  Thankfully we were able to beat him into submission, which I plan on sharing tips with you now that I know it works.  It involves duct tape and laffy taffy, it's totally legit.  Oh please shut your pie hole, it's actually a rather clever book that really has changed things.  2011 was the year I became a great aunt, and I'm now known as Auntie Niknak...no one has jumped on the bandwagon yet but I'm persistent, it will happen damnit.  There's more, but it's early, the coffee hasn't kicked in so I'm moving on.

To say I'm glad 2011 is over is sugar coating things.  I'm fucking thrilled.  The above paragraph may seem bright and shiny but honestly, it wasn't.  I was stressed out, depressed, OCD'ing like a crankwhore, and all around screwed up last year.  I saved you all the trouble of having to read about it too often...you are very welcome.  And now instead of reliving those bad moments, I'd rather be funny.  Laughter is much easier to hear than crying.  My hopes for 2012 is that all things get under control, or at least more manageable than they were last year.

I'm leaving you with a song.  It's inspiring.  It's poignant.


What?!  Were you expecting something serious?  You really don't know me.....

I've made my decision

I want a raise and here are my demands:

Mondays, I'm allowed to sleep in as late as I desire and I don't have to drive Bailey to school in the morning.
Tuesday, I'd like Henry Cavill to bring me coffee wearing nothing but that smile...and everyone else must leave the house for the whole day.
Wednesday, is my night off, nuff said.
Thursday...Henry Cavill again...ok lets just make him a daily treat shall we?  He's my flavor of the month.
Friday, Jeffery Dean Morgan brings my coffee, Henry my breakfast and Paul Walker can fluff my pillow....again everyone not listed must leave the house.

I don't think that's too much do you?  I mean I am a driver, cook, nurse, lawyer, judge, maid, teacher, librarian, vet, comedian, etc... oh and porn fluffer wife.  I deserve some perks.

What would be your list of demands??

This is TOO close to home

I will not give out my location for this, I know I know I'm not a super star and need to keep my local on the down low but excuse me if I'd rather share blow job stories than my address.

This morning at the PreK and Kindergarten Elementary school in town, where two of our nephews attend I might add, white powder was found in an envelope that was mailed to the school!  So far no word yet on if it's serious or just a prank, but this isn't the first time this has happened.  Yesterday two places in town had the same thing happen and before that two separate places in neighboring towns had it happen.  No connection has been found yet, no word has even been given on what the powder was at the other places other than it's a household substance.

This is seriously wrong and dangerous, I don't give a flying fuck if it's baby powder, this is not funny.  You don't do this to businesses and you sure as hell do not do this to schools where innocent children are.  The school couldn't even call the parents to come get their kids because they had to evacuate as soon as it was found.  Thankfully a local news station posted an article on Facebook so some parents are aware of what has happened and has picked up their kids.  Right now everyone is just waiting to hear any news.

A part of me wants to get Bailey out of school, even though I know that's being drastic but this scares me and it's scaring this whole town.  I hope they find out who is behind this ASAP and put them behind bars or in a padded room because this is fucking crazy!  This person cannot be sane.

I'm that wife

Family do not read any further.  I'm feeling froggy today and what is below is quite crude...

I ask my husband to watch porn so I can get some sleep.  Yup that's right I do and I'm not afraid to say so.  Because I know that my hubby would rather scrog me than watch porn any day, otherwise he wouldn't be humping my leg every night still...but it does help just enough to get a good 3 hours of sleep...most nights.

I also send him dirty texts all the time.  One in fact was not erased before he gave the phone away to a friend and now it's known around the office that not only do I give him head but I beg for it.  In fact, they know a lot of stories cause Bo can't help himself and has to share, it got to the point months and months ago that he was told it's getting old and they doubt he gets it on that often.  Now they hear the stories of him depantsing me in my sleep and waking up to me slapping the shit out of him because he'd once again sleep fucked me.

Today I thought I'd shake things up a bit and sent him a pic of my boobs.  And you know what I got?  NOTHING for 30 minutes.  Not a woohoo baby, not a wait a sec so I can view it properly someone is at my desk.  Nothing.  I was beginning to think his boss saw the pic somehow and he was now in her office getting his butt reamed for having a lewd wife.  I was really starting to panic and get worried when he FINALLY responds with:

lol just saw it... weak... just weak ;)


After all that I do, the lengths I go, and I get that?  Seriously?  Does he not remember who he's married to?

Bleach....where is the freaking bleach?!?!?!?!

Today has been interesting and I’ll start off with the most innocent and easy part, because I love you people and I don’t want to throw that kind of thing in your face from the get go.

I had an almost 5 year old, an almost 3 year old and a 15 month old in my living room this afternoon. It blows my mind to think that some families have three kids at these ages. Although they didn’t drive me insane or were too terrible about sharing, they were being relatively good for their ages. It made me anxious, like it always does when a lot of people is in my house. It doesn’t matter if its family friends or strangers, I feel like my house is the size of a teeny broom closet. Although, if I was in someone else’s broom closet, crammed in with like 4 people, I’d be fine. For some weird reason I only get that way when it’s my house. And then the whole three kids under the age of 5 thing, well it made me very antsy and totally reminded me that I am so not capable, mentally that is, to handle more than two kids at once.

Kissing the toes of all you moms of 3+ out there, you are freaking awesome to me!!

Even with that making me all itchy and jumpy, the worst/nastiest/oddest part of my day involved underwear. And not just any underwear, but my brother in law’s dirty underwear.

His washer and dryer (he rents, what can you expect right?) goes crazy from time to time, and it’s easiest to come and do laundry here. Which I don’t mind at all, I did his laundry a lot when he lived with us a few years ago so it’s not new to me. Except I rarely ever came across his underwear. So today, when I started digging through his hamper, it was like the man had a million pairs of dirty underwear. And they were lying just perfectly so that I’d grab one thinking it was the shirt I was looking at but got a surprise instead. Many many times I grabbed them by the crotch.

Now you understand the title of this here post.

I stopped counting at 6 pairs. But I couldn’t stop the weeby jeebies, that’s a higher level of the heeby jeebies just so you know. Even though I’ve washed my hands and sterilized the things I touched many many times, I still feel dirty. Of course it didn’t help when Bo said “Hey Nikki, you have touched my brother’s junk”. If it had been the waist band or even the legs, I would have been fine, but noooooo I had to grab over and over the crotch of his dirty underwear. The guy who is a man whore, who picks up chicks in bars, HIS FREAKING UNDERWEAR PEOPLE.

Now darling, if you are reading this, if this isn’t what you’re up to, you really shouldn’t be telling the stories like you are , mwuah. Still love you, but please next time put the underwear in a separate bag so I know what it is and don’t reach in blind…

This brings a whole new meaning to family bonding.

Stapleless

Bo is no longer stapled together!


He has the ok for “us” time! …this was the very first question he asked ~insert eye roll~

He can’t lift anything heavier than 10lbs for at least 4 more weeks, due to the bigger surgery. And at 4 weeks he gets to come back with a ahem specimen to see if the vasectomy worked.

Three months from now he has to go in for a checkup for the bigger surgery, to make sure it’s healed properly and he has no pain from the incision.

The testing that was done on the tissue removed came back clean! No cancer!

Soo it’s done, it’s over and we can move on, finally. I was expecting to be more bummed out once it was over, and I’m not. Strange I know. I’m, well kind of relieved oddly enough. It still makes me sad to know we won’t be having any more babies but knowing that we don’t have to worry about it happening by accident is kinda refreshing. Still strange I know, it makes no sense to me but it’s not so bad now. It’s done, there’s no going back (well there is but I’m not putting him through that again) and somehow I’m ok with it now.

Of course there is that whole not having to gain weight part, not going through all the discomfort of pregnancy, and then of course LABOR AND DELIVERY. Ouch…yeah I’m glad I can skip that. Although if it does accidentally happen I’d still vote for a home water birth.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have kids to put to bed, and a hubby that feels very neglected, hehehe.

Failing

In two days, Bo goes into surgery.

My stomach is so tore up, I’m having to mentally tell it to not toss my dinner. Of course there is option B, which well ha ha my tummy has a since of humor.  Screw you tummy.

I should be helping him stay calm and feel better about the surgery. I should be helping him be at ease and keeping his mind off of it. But no I’m sitting here trying to be still because if I don’t, everything is coming out. He’s shaken by this, as anyone would be, he needs me, and all I’ve got is I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I can’t be strong for you. I’m sorry I am not normal and can’t suck it up, and not let you know how so very afraid I am. I’m so sorry.

Tonight I want nothing better than to be held by him. To hold him as close as I can. To breath him in. To forget what happens on Wednesday…or what could happen.

Closer and closer

Today Bo had a pre-op appointment.

I got through yay, but my anxiety was so high I had to take many deep breaths and keep my foot jiggling to have something to concentrate on.  He’s scared and nervous since he’s never had surgery or even stitches, he does not need me freaking out and making it worse.  But I am struggling, and he knows it.  I don’t want him worrying about me, when he’s on his way to surgery.

I’m so worried about him.  I’m terrified of something going wrong.  I can’t stop worrying about that.  And of course the nurse brought up the whole “Do you give permission to a blood transfusion if it is needed?” I almost swallowed my tongue.  Seriously?? DID YOU NOT KNOW I WAS IN THE ROOM LADY??? Hello my name is Nikki, I have issues, I have this thing where I worry about EVERYTHING that can go wrong in anything that you do, and you just gave me more ammo.  Thank you, I’ll be sending you hate mail soon.   Oh and so I don’t forget, thanks for telling us about the whole tube going down his throat thing, its going to make my dreams so colorful.  Even medicated and feeling better than I have in so long, I’m worrying like crazy and on the verge of tears with fear.

I think if it was simply a vasectomy, I wouldn’t be so worried, but its not.  He’s being put under, there will be two incisions, extra pain and swelling.  The pain he’s going to have…I just feel horrible for him and I keep asking what can I do to help this week be as good as it can be.  His answer, don’t do anything special for him its no big deal.  But its a big deal to me.  Hell, I’ll iron his underwear if it will help his jewels feel better. 

I’m not sure how much blogging I’ll be doing over the next few days, his surgery is on Wednesday and then he’ll have a week and a half of recovery before going back to work.  With how my nerves are today, I imagine as the day gets closer, it will get harder and harder to write anything other than my worries.

I’ll try not to drive you guys crazy with it.   I apologize now for the all the boo hooing that may come…that’s if I can manage to write.

Getting ever so close

Bo is on his way to his second appointment of getting Mr. Snippy. 

It’s getting easier coming to terms with this since it wasn’t a fast progression, but it still hurts and makes me sad.  I don’t like the permanent thing of this procedure, not the surgery as a whole in general just the fact that its happening to us.

I don’t have to go into why this bugs me or hurts since I’ve done that enough times that I’m sure you all get it and are at that point of SHUT UP NIKKI.  Everyone I’ve talked to, I admit hasn’t been many, that their husband has had this done, are 100% on board, no one can relate to me wanting more.  It makes me feel alone and more like a freak that I have issues with this.  I know I’m not the only one out there that wasn’t thrilled when their spouse got “fixed”.  I can’t be, but where are they in my circle of friends and family?  Are you hiding it and trying to be all macho?

We’re both oddly hoping the doc will say hey lets do this tomorrow morning and get it over with, so I will stop hoping he changes his mind and he can get all the stress and nervousness over.  I feel for him, I know this is a big deal (he has more than just a snip to be done, that can’t wait either) and I try very hard not to make comments about wishing he wouldn’t or is he really sure this is what he wants.  I’ve done much worse though, I’ve said things like well this wasn’t my decision and I’m sorry this is tough on you but you decided to do it.  It doesn’t help at all, and I try not to make things worse, but its hard.  It’s so hard when all I want to do is beg and plead for him not to do this, just one more baby.  I know he’s right and he’s being the smart one but I can’t help it.  It doesn’t help my cause, when I promise him I won’t hate him for this decision and then I say well it wasn’t my decision and you know how I feel.  I won’t hate him, I don’t hate him, I hate me for being the reason he has to do this.  It’s my fault and I hate me for that, never could I hate or be angry at him.  He’s protecting me, us and there is nothing to hate about that.  I’ve told him these things, he’s been married to me now for almost 10 years, he should know by now I hate myself for how I am, I hate myself enough that there isn’t much leftover for anyone else.  I’m the burden, I’m the crazy wife who can’t do simple every day tasks by herself, who would lose what little sanity she has left if she went through trying to conceive,pregnancy and delivery again.  I’m the guilty one, not the one whose trying to prevent a disaster

Today is just a consultation with an Urologist, an exam maybe, and setting up a date for surgery.  I guess since its one step away from the BIG day, he’s so nervous and stressed by this, acting like he’s never acted before, and I hate seeing him like that.  I want it over with ASAP, so he doesn’t have to feel like this anymore.  I’ll deal with my crap, its just any other day for me and my issues.  He needs more support to get through this, and I suck at that right now.

My letter to you

Dear Miss,

This morning I woke up and thought I heard you walking through the living room. I admit it freaked the shit out of me since I knew you weren’t here and Bo had left for work already. I got out of bed and put my eyeballs in. I grabbed the biggest cup we have, and poured it full of coffee. Once I had added all my toppings, I went to your room. Yes your room, I can’t call it the office yet. I sat down and slowly spun in the chair and tried to see you here again. Even your smell has left. When Bailey woke up, he sat down next to me and asked if you were still here. I told him no, and his bottom lip began to tremble. Told you my babies were going to fall in love with you.


Yesterday, we watched you in the airport making sure you had everything handled; neither of us could drive away from you yet. When Bo put it in gear and we began moving, so did the tears. I held it in until you moved from my sight. But you should be proud I didn’t break down into those horrible, incoherent sobs. I cried and we talked about how much we already miss you and how it’s just not going to be the same without you here. Talked about how much fun we had with you. How much you helped us. We talked about my fear of going right back to where I was before you came down. Bo gave me the mantra of “What would Miss do”, and told me that at any time I feel overwhelmed or lost, ask myself this. We laughed because even though I’m going to try it, neither of us understands just how you do it. I then asked if he’d take me to the bookstore, because at that moment, that was the closest thing to you that I could think of. Funny huh.


I bought Twilight, aren’t you proud? I buried myself in it on the ride home. I had to, every time I looked up the tears started again. It didn’t help that the world outside the window looked as sad as I felt. Damnit woman you took the sun and warmth with you. Today it’s cold, rainy, cloudy, dark…


There is an upside to this I promise. I know I’ve said a million times how much you’ve helped me get out of my funk. But I wish I had a video of how bad I was. From the time I woke up until Bo got home, it was either my purple buddy (laptop) or a book in my hand, I lived my days by hiding. I did the simplest tasks with the house and the kids. I had to have these distractions, like I had to have air to breath. Then you walked into my house and it became a want. I want to read, or I want to check my email. I didn’t have to do these things to get through my day, to survive. I did it because I wanted to, and once I did them I could walk away without issue. Do you have any clue how awesome that feeling is? I know I can get through my day without burying myself away from the world. I know I can. The toughest part now is doing it without you here to keep me going. I can already see it’s hard, and my day has barely begun. But I know it is possible, I know I am capable of it, I know I can do something and succeed. I hate that it takes you or Bo for me to succeed in things, I want to do it on my own and I can’t. Somehow I have to admit defeat and accept that you two bring out the good in me, because I only see the bad. You guys remind me that I do have good in me, somehow I have to find the way to do this myself.


I am afraid of today and tomorrow and the next day. But I know you’ll hold to your promise of calling me and making sure I’m off my butt and doing what needs to be done. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to clean my house in 10 minutes the way you do, but I want to try anyway. I’m going to buckle down, do Weight Watchers and work out so that I can beat you, mwahahaha. I’m off the pills, and I will hunt for some EMDR therapy around so I can give it a shot without them. I have to say though, I still feel like shit rannith over by a mack truck without them. I will try to keep up with getting dressed, makeup on, hair fixed every day…and carrying my rad new bag with me everywhere. You’ve shown me what I forgot of myself, and it’s my job to keep this going somehow. I will try my damndest not to let you down, not to let Bo down or myself down.


Thank you for everything. Don’t you dare take so long to visit again…yes I know, we need to visit too, hush that pretty mouth.


Love you Honey Cheeks

Love is a bitch..

 Sorry to be so rude and upfront, but I think we would all agree.  A bitch of the bitch kind, from bitchville, with bitch accessories.

Love is something magical, and beautiful.  Unless its broken, then it becomes something dark and so very painful you wonder why you are there in the first place.  You try to hurt them for hurting you, and in the end very little is truth, but it feels true.  Every knife they send your way hits its mark, and you bleed.  Through your pain you hope that they feel it too, that they ache inside just as you do.  Maybe they do, and maybe it will take time to fester like a dirty wound, to take them over, and leave them panting and gasping for air. 

There’s nothing I can say or do to keep you from hurting.  Nothing I can do to ease this ache.  I hate that you are hurting.  I hate WHY you are hurting.  I hate that I can’t do a damn thing about it to help you, that I have to sit back and watch you ache and hear you cry.  No matter what is said or done, you are an amazing person and I am honored to have you in my life.

Screw those who continue to hurt you.

 

The crap that is

So the last two days have been interesting.  Bo and I got into an argument yesterday in front of Miss, sorry about that.  Then this morning Bailey decides he hates me and will not mind.  Right now, my nerves are on edge, my mood is so sour my butt is puckering, and all I want is to go back to bed and it’s not even 8am yet.

The argument….Miss and I were talking about a guy we know, who we tolerate because his wife is like AWESOME.  Bo and I have known her for years and years, and Miss got the privilege of meeting her when they lived here 6 years ago.  Anywho, this guy, who before this incident and after, never stopped treating me with disrespect, rudeness and at times hatred, leaned into me and gave me a look.  You know that look?  That look that says I just noticed you and you look yummy.  I gave him a look of my own that said I don’t think so and where he could go, and moved on.  It was so insignificant that I forgot all about it until this couple came up in a convo and I told Miss about it.  Bo obviously got miffed because I didn’t tell him, although I swear I did.  In my defense it was so insignificant and didn’t change anything that I totally forgot about it so I may not have said anything to him.  Being my man, and any man that loves his wife, he is thoroughly aggravated that this guy did this, because it not only disrespected me, Bo, it disrespected our close friend.  But somehow this conversation got warped and twisted and we didn’t understand what the other was saying and totally had an argument in front of Miss for the first time.  Then last night as we’re trying to go to bed…way later than we should have, Bo brings it up to apologize for misunderstanding and a comment he’d made.  Instead of it being an its ok, this was an accident we both agree on this, lets move on thing we argued AGAIN.  Because again, he misunderstood and I misunderstood, but we both got that it wasn’t a good situation.  An hour and a half later we finally stop arguing and finally see that the other just saw the comment differently, it moved on to now I totally need new meds.  And about what I’m missing out on right this minute because the meds I’m on are not helping, nor are they making me feel good and be genuinely happy.  This morning I’m puffy eyed, and sad for the stupid argument, piffed at myself for not seeing that Bo truly misunderstood me, and hurt/upset that I once again need new meds.

The meltdown…I’m pretty sure I know where this comes from but I’m not sure, if that makes sense.  If not, deal with it I’m emotional right now.  Bailey has decided that he ‘forgets’ that he needs to flush the toilet after he uses the bathroom EVERYTIME.  It’s an ongoing conversation in my house.  And so is the “But I don’t like to flush” or “I just forgot Mama” or “But the toilet scares me when it flushes” or “I don’t want to and don’t have to” comments that come out of my sons mouth.  I hadn’t finished half of my coffee cup, I’m still emotional for the crap last night and now I get “I don’t want to flush”.  I admit, I could have handled it better, I think as a parent there are many things we can handle better, but wow what a way to start my already sour day.  He flushes, with much arguing and whining and I tell him if he doesn’t stop its timeout.  So he walks into the living room, lays on the floor, and proceeds to yell into the floor, and kick and hit the floor at the same time.  Oh hell no.  Instantly time out, I do not know where he has seen this, since he does not hang out with other kids often and I have never witnessed any of them doing this, but he does this all the f-ing time.  He also screams like he’s being beaten with a tree stump when you put him in time out, and of course Jocelyn hasn’t woken up for the day yet.  But he doesn’t listen to do not yell and wake your baby sister, he screams louder because THAT MAKES MORE SENSE.  The kicker was when Bo had to leave, because Bailey must watch people leave, especially Daddy.  And he couldn’t because he was in timeout and OMG you would have though I dipped him in acid with the way he was crying.  It broke his heart, but what could I do?  He was in timeout for treating me like poo, not minding and throwing a fit, he does not get the privilege of watching his Daddy leave for work.  After Bo walks out the door, I sit back down on the couch, pick up my half empty cup of coffee and look up, to see and hear him running down the hallway to his room.  Except he KNEW his ass was grass because he hid in his closet, instead of looking out the window.  I drug him back into the living room screaming and being ugly.  He got so loud, I was sure Jocelyn would start screaming in fear.  I then dragged him and his timeout chair into our bedroom, and shut him in my room to throw his fit. 

I’m on my second cup of coffee, my eyes are that puffy achy feeling from the crying last night, my heart aches from the argument yesterday and the topics that got brought up.  Its barely 8 now and I know this day is going to suck.

 

Is it technically a nightmare if you’re awake?

Miss and I did some shopping this afternoon.  I bought some kick ass finger nail polish along with a couple new outfits, and a sweet bag.  That was almost ruined when we came across the devil and her husband.

I won’t go into detail, because well she may hex me and we don’t want to upset her or fire will shoot from her nose and end us all.  Suffice it to say, that this woman stabbed me in the back years ago , and threatened the lives of innocent people to get to me.  In the end, it didn’t work, and she blames me for it.  Makes sense right?  Apparently she thinks so, even with the evidence to prove its ALL HER FAULT.

It angers me that she threatened others to hurt me.  It angers me that nothing was done but a slight “We don’t do that”, before everyone walked away.  It angers me, that I did everything right and good and was treated like something vile by her. 

After some booze, my nerves calmed down.  And now, I’m all wwweeeeee, what was her name again? What’s mine for that matter?  My wish now is not that I should have marched up to her, made a scene and told her everything I wish I had said back then but was too hurt and afraid to, but that I had brought Flip the camera with me.  To see her face, the way she was looking everywhere but in my direction, obviously she had seen me and was so uncomfy, OMG even with not knowing the whole story you’d laugh until you piddled yourself.

 

Be prepared for lots of screaming

Next Thursday is a big day.  A HUGE DAY.  A GINORMOUS BLUE WHALE OF A DAY. 

My Honey Cheeks, aka Miss, is coming to town!!! OMG I piddle myself every time I think about it.

Why Honey Cheeks?  Cause this girl has some amazing dimples that I just want to gobble up every time I see them.  And her beautiful mini me, Caden, has them too.  Dimples are a huge weakness for me.  No matter how young, old, woman or man, I just wanna touch them. I am also very curious how many M&M’s I can fit in them….

We have two whole weeks with her and I’m not the only one counting down the days until she’s here.  Bailey tells me every day that its one day closer for her to come.  Even though he’s a little sad that his buddy Caden isn’t coming too, he’s having issues with waiting. 

TWO WEEKS!!!!!!!!  IN 6 DAYS!!!!!!!!

She made fun of me a few days ago when I asked her what kind of things she’d like to eat while here.  I personally, want to make her stay here awesome, and I don’t want to serve something she doesn’t like.  My loving effort got a “You are so cute” and a “I like anything…except peas and cabbage”.  That part of me, you know that Cheshire cat grin side, wants to make nothing but that for a few days and throw her world upside down for being so up in the air on her response.   But I love you Miss, so I won’t….much MWUAHAHAHA.

We’ve got vlogging plans, we’ve got shopping plans, we’ve got hanging out doing zip plans.  Where’s my easy button to make sure the two weeks doesn’t fly by too fast???

Time to hide the toys…

Warning family, don’t read farther if you don’t want to hear about me and sex….

So a few years ago I made a purchase, a ‘toy’ or two for Bo and I to enjoy.  And in that order we were allowed a free item.  None of the items were something we wanted so I chose something that was just funny.  I don’t know what its called, its a stick with one end a blue fuzzy feathered thing and the other is like a cat of nine tails whip.  It has sat in my closet since the day we got it in the mail.  Why didn’t I throw it away?  I’m not sure since every time one of us decided to use it, it ended with giggles and is returned to its place.  It’s more of a laugh than anything else. 

Well the other day I got it out for a laugh and it seems a piece of the feathery end fell off unbeknownst to me.  I put it back in its place after Bo laughed and declared no not this time, as usual.  Somehow this little feather got under the bathroom cabinet, and we didn’t see it.

The next day I was getting dressed and such, Bailey had followed me into the bathroom.  I see him standing at the door of my closet, using the door frame as an anchor, he’s standing on his tippy toes straining to see in the shelves. 

So I ask him “Bailey man, what are you looking for?”

He responds with “I’m looking to see if that blue fuzzy stick is still in here” before turning around and going to pick up the little blue feather “See Mama, here’s a piece of it.”

I didn’t know what to say so I just said uh huh and went back to putting my contacts in.  Note to self, hide all ‘toys’ in a box, on the highest shelf in my closet. 

Another year gone

Tomorrow I turn 28, although it feels like last year I graduated high school.  I’m not sad or scared or upset about getting closer to 30, like many are.  My grandma was 82 and would say your only as old as you feel and she felt like she was still in her 20’s.  If she could do that with a weathered body, tired eyes, hands and feet, I can do that at 28 or 102.  If she can do it, so can I.

What have I learned in my 28 years?  Ha, well a lot and I know that there is so much more to learn.  I don’t know everything and even if I live to be 200, I still won’t know it all.

I know, that a marriage is a special thing.  It’s not about me or him.  It’s about us.  It’s about compromise, its about losing the fight sometimes, it’s about being wrong more than being right, it’s about love, it’s about partnership.  It’s not about competition, its not about being right, its not about being in charge or in control, its not about winning, its not about you.  It’s us or nothing.  It’s a partnership or you are roommates with extras.  It’s so much more than you realize when you first take that step.  It’s so much harder than you ever imagined. 

I know, that relationships come and go and that is how it is.  People evolve throughout their lives, and we grow into different beings.  If a relationship ends, then learn from it and do better next time.  It’s not personal, it’s not to hurt anyone, it’s just what happens.  But friends are a precious luxury that should be cherished and nourished, because our friends are who we lean on when times get tough.  Family isn’t just those who share blood or a name.  Family is more than parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, and cousins.  Friends are a branch of family all on their own.  Don’t just let people drift away.  Don’t just ‘forget’ or ‘put it off’ for another day to contact someone.  Because tomorrow may not come.

I know, that in all the rush to get somewhere we miss out on where we are.  This world has turned into rush rush rush, lets get it done now, I want it now.  And we’re missing out on the little things.  Like making homemade items instead of buying them.  There are so many lost arts because its so much easier to buy it than take the time to put a little blood and sweat, with love sprinkles into something for someone special.  We don’t take the time to wonder about tomorrow because its all about today.  Yet tomorrow is when we see our wrongs. 

I know, that when you are wrong admit it.  Because pouting and throwing a fit shows other’s just how immature you really are.  Only the mature, the strong, can admit when they are wrong and do something to fix it.

And there is so much more that I’ve learned, but there is even more that I need to learn.  Age, to me, isn’t where you get your wisdom or smarts.  To me, its about the paths you take and the pain you endure that creates wisdom.  Those as young as 10 can have more wisdom in some situations that a 50 year old wouldn’t. 

Happy early birthday to me.  Another year gone, another chapter to add to my story.  I never really had a plan for my future, but I do know, that I wouldn’t change my past.  It has got me here, it has made me who I am, and without all that, I wouldn’t have the happiness that I have found.

Heritage in a bowl

Today I made my all time favorite food.  There is nothing, NOTHING, that comes close to this bowl of sunshine.  It’s my family’s beef and veggie soup, that we call Booger Soup.  Yes such a lovely name I know, but its a funny story behind the name.  I’ve mentioned it before but I’ll share it again anyway.  One of my maternal uncles told my grandma that this soup was so hot, temperature wise, the booger’s wouldn’t eat it.  Somehow it morphed into Booger Soup, and that is how the entire family refers to it.

Tonight I made a comment to Bo about it being my family heritage in a bowl.  To be honest, I’ve never really sat and thought about it that way before.  I’m all about history and to know that I can make a soup that my grandmother and my great grandmother and even my great great grandmother made, is way awesome.  It’s beyond awesome, its inspirational.  This soup has nourished and fed many generations, and I know how to make it.  I am carrying on the tradition with my children and some day they will pass it on.  Amazing huh?

I’ve always gotten a smile whenever my grandma made this soup, and then a tear when my mother was the only one making it for me.  It always makes us think of Grandma and talk about our memories of her.  In essence, this soup is a family portrait.  Amongst the veggies and meat, there amongst the tomatoes my Mama cans the way she was taught by her Mama, is the faces of my family reflecting back at us.  The taste is a reminder of cold winter days, cooped up in the house because its butt ass cold outside. 

I’m not only making this soup to feed my family, and let me tell you it FEEDS a family or 7 of them with how much it makes, I’m also bringing back a piece of those who I’ve lost.  So here’s to you Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Merle, baby James, and all the generations before who have had the pleasure of eating this yummy soup but are no longer here, those of you I never got to meet.  Each bowl, is dedicated to you and your memory and I promise to keep this tradition going.

Do you have any recipes in your family with an interesting story?