April 28, 2011

~X~

X

is for eXplanations

We all have to give them, receive them and wonder about them. They can make us feel relief, guilt, or amazement. You can tell when another person is giving you a truck load of b.s., or when they are telling the absolute truth, because there is no way that you could make up THAT eXplanation.

You can feel anxiety about having to give one, or total shame for your absolute lameness.

One of the worst to have to give.......... is to your parents. The shame! When you crawl in to the house, tail tucked between your legs, just knowing the shit was gonna hit the fan. Ok, racking your brain frantically, I wonder what I can come up with? What will they believe? You, being the young shit you are, think they will buy most anything, hook line and sinker.

If you are a parent, the second worst eXplanation to give? To your child. We have ALL gone back on our word. No matter how good of a parent you are. You have had to tell those sweet, puffy cheeked little cherubs that you are going back on your word. There is no lower feeling. You might well just have said you killed Mickey Mouse.

Then there are the stupid eXplanations we give every day. Why we say no to joining the PTA, or being the party planner for your child's team. Why you can't go out for a drink after dinner, go to a concert/play/movie or why you can't drop by a friends house.

We give childish eXplanations to your significant other. So that you can get out of doing whatever it is they want you to do. You know there is that ONE thing that your other half REALLY enjoys doing that you actually despise. You may indulge once a year, just to make the other person happy, but really? Your heart is just bursting with some stupid eXcuse as to why you can't do it today, this week or this year.

If you really take the time to think about it, I bet you can come up with several eXplanations per week that you give that are not 100% truthful. Wouldn't it be better to just say no?

April 27, 2011

~W~

W

is for Whatever, Whoopknacker and What

I say it, you say it, and you know your kids say it. What-ever, what-evah, whateverrrrrrrr......... is usually how it sounds too. It is used in many different ways. You use it when you are annoyed, when you want the other person to stop talking so you don't punch them in the mouth, when you completely disagree with someone else, and when you at a loss for any other words.

I use it frequently. It's just like a teenager over-using the word "dude" or "like", same difference. It's a habit more than anything else now...... Do you have words like that?

Funny story: the whole crew was over at Miss Em's one Friday night. We were playing board games, drinking wine and laughing so hard I thought I might pee my pants! Well, we were playing Balderdash.
(Balderdash is a board game of bluffing and trivia) Haven't played it yet? Seriously, give it a try at your next dinner party!

Well, one of the words to define was this: Whoopknacker. It means someone loud. Guess who that might be???? ME! As if I don't already have enough nicknames, what's another one? There were some other good ones that night too......... like Gongoozler.

Now when I go to look up these words, I find much different definitions, especially on urban dictionary. Go ahead. You know you are curious now.

Now on to the what.......... yep. Everyday in the month of April I have sat down in front of the computer and thought about WHAT I was going to post for that day, for that letter. A lot of times, I came up blank. Something would happen during the day, or someone would say something that tickled my funny bone and then I was in business.

But most days? I have no stinkin idea WHAT to post, let alone how cleverly I can do it. So your mission is this, should you choose to accept it. I need something for X and Y. I have Z already. I know you will come up with something great! Can't wait to hear WHAT it is!

April 26, 2011

~V~

V

is for Vocal

Defined as " inclined to express oneself with words" or "having a voice" by www.dictionary.com

Me? Vocal? Never. And if you believe that, I've got a bridge to sell you.

When I was a teenager, I never gave a thought to who heard me, what I said, or how my tone came across. As I became a wife, mother and young professional, about the only place I curbed my tongue was at the office.

My mouth has gotten me in more trouble than I care to admit. More than once, some offhand remark that I have made has incited a verbal duel. Whether I won or lost that "battle" never crossed my mind; until I started to make more enemies than friends. People looked at me like I was just this combative little shit, which for all intents and purposes I was.

I always thought: if someone had a different opinion from me, that was fine. I would argue with that person, the whole time thinking I was just disagreeing with them. What really ended up happening? They usually thought I was just arguing for the sake of arguing. That I was some punk kid who just had a bone to pick with everyone.

In some aspects, those assessments were not far from the mark. Did I know it, or recognize it then? Hell no! Do I now? Did I see the people the people I was meeting cringe when I came around? No.

When you go through a divorce, in a small town, EVERYBODY knows your business, and has an opinion about it. They point, stare, and talk behind your back. They take everything you say completely the opposite of how you intended it. Being the vocal person I am, that was a complete pain in the ass. 

They over-analyze how you look, what comes out of your mouth, no matter how flippant it sounds to you, and pass a judgement all based upon the words you are using. And for me? They were bitter, angry words spewing from my mouth. Making me look like the exact person I did not want to be.

One thing this divorce has taught me? I can be as vocal as I want......... however, if I want people to "see" the true feelings behind the words? I have to be smarter than the average bear. I have to put it in a sweet saccharine tone, laugh at myself and play nice.

Then I just wait until they are gone to say what I really think? (got you there didn't I?) I do blow my top, and I do think that I still offend people, even when I'm not trying to. 

As I have "matured" since the divorce, I realized a couple of things:
1. I need to worry less about what other people think.
2. it's ok to vocalize what I am thinking, if I use nicer words and don't yell.
3. I am not responsible for what other people think, feel, or how they perceive me.

So I'm a gonna keep on vocalizing my thoughts. Like a constant trail of diarrhea of the mouth until someone stops me. I have a voice, and I'm not afraid to use it!

April 25, 2011

~U~

U

is for Uterus

Fasten your seat belts, put on your big girls panties, pad up, and away we go!

I have a love/hate relationship with my 'lady parts". The parts that allowed me to birth my beautiful children, pushing their watermelon sized heads through a pea sized hole, well I loved them, for a short time. Through the marvel of conception, I now have stretched my delicate flower out. Nice.

All those pink squishy innards that allowed me to incubate those babies...... making me waddle when I was prego with Lil C, making my ribs hurt like I had been in the boxing ring when I was carrying Doodle.

Oh the joy of pregnancy........ yeah right! I think I just threw up in my mouth. Don't get me wrong, I love love LOVE my kiddos. I just really hate being pregnant. I was not one of those women that "glowed". I used to think that was a myth until I actually saw a pregnant lady glow. It was weird. If I didn't know better I would have thought the special effects team was following her around, spraying her face to make it look "dewey" and providing the back lighting to make her appear angelic.

If you think I am bitchy now, you should have seen me preggers. I was miserable, and I let everyone know it. Being only 5 feet tall, where are those babies supposed to go? I swear those kids poked every crack and crevice of my upper body. I was constantly sore, and the waddling around like a bloated duck just made me feel fat and ugly.

I have a road map of stretch marks across my stomach, the tops of my boobs, my upper things, lower back and a few that wisp out from my armpits. Nice. Not that I ever had a desire to wear a bikini. Ever again. But if I did? It would NOT be possible thanks to these angry tears that are so clearly seen.

I was not one of those ladies that wanted pictures of my bump taken to document every month that I was closer to my due date. I did not want a plaster mold of my H-U-G-E stomach to hang on the wall, forever reminding me of my largeness. Selfish? Perhaps. I don't think my children are lacking for anything because I didn't document every second, of every day, of every month that I carted them around in my womb. then again, what do I know?

I knew the minute Doodle was born, that I NEVER WANTED TO BE PREGNANT AGAIN. I could do without the weird cravings, the heart burn, and the total uncomfortableness that comes with it. Yet, I have not had a hysterectomy. I made HeeHaw have a vasectomy instead. At the time, it seemed like the easier choice. I was almost 22 when I had Doodle, and the doctors looked at me like I was nuts. With HeeHaw being 28 then, we made the choice to do a vasectomy instead.

The procedure was out patient, in and out in an hour, and sitting on a bag of frozen corn for the weekend. No problem. Now, that I am divorced, and have to worry about those "lady parts" again, I am realizing the near-sightedness of that decision. I now have to worry about birth control, contraception and the fear of pregnancy all over again. Something I have not had to think about in almost 12 years. Good grief!

Now, becomes the task of researching what it would cost me, how much time I would be down, and having that conversation with my doctor. You know, the one. Well, you are young. You could still have children.......... That's nice and all. I realize I am only 33 years old. But, it's my body. And I don't want to HAVE any more children. Even if I lost one of my kiddos now, I certainly wouldn't have another CHILD to REPLACE the one I lost. Yes, I realize it's permanent. So, go ahead and yank those parts. The ones that make me bleed like a stuck pig every 28 days. That make me irritable, have menstrual cramps, make my claws come out constantly, and make my children hide from me.

I feel bitter every time I hear someone else has had a hysterectomy. Only because I am green with envy...... One of these days I will make this happen. Until then, fellow ladies with your parts still in tact, we will stick together, commiserating with one another and holding each others hands; when we aren't bitch slapping each other for being Queen B.

April 23, 2011

~T~

T

is for Traditions........ and Time

Do you have traditions? Either with your kids, your friends or your family? Something you may only do at Christmas, or every summer?

I have some weird ones......

eating M&M's on Christmas morning
attending the Strawberry Festival parade
buying the chitlins trinkets for every holiday 
camping with the hood every August
scrap booking weekend every January

And the list goes on and on. Something happens out of a funny story, you adapt to a situation where everything goes wrong, or you just have piss-poor planning.

As far back as I remember, my mom would get my sister and I something cool for every holiday, of course going overboard for Christmas and Easter.

We would get heart covered socks on Valentine's Day, green oatmeal for St. Patrick's Day and firework shaped earrings for the 4th of July.

Well, I now do that for Doodle and Lil C. I go C-R-A-Z-Y for Easter, and just hog wild for every other holiday. I love to see the look on their faces when they get these special treats. I start buying stuff as soon as I see the displays, usually like a month before the actual holiday. Before long, I have mounds of stuff!

I certainly hope Lil C and Doodle takes these goofy, funky, weird traditions and pass them along to their children, furthering my legacy and my mom's.

T-I-M-E

Heals all wounds. Yes, it does. Today, my ex-husband got re-married. I actually have no problem with this, and hope they are happy. Even though HeeHaw drives me ape shit, he is now HER problem, not mine!

April 22, 2011

~S~

S

Is for

Singers/Artists

Here are a list of my favorites who all start with the letter "S". Now, there are plenty of others out there that I like, but these are the people who I would buy a cd from, turn up the radio if they are on, or unashamedly rock out when I hear their music!

Sara Evans


 Sheryl Crow

Simon & Garfunkel


Sugarland

Here is my current favorite song:



Happy Friday! Also, linked up to Wine Friday's over at Keeping up with the Joneses.......... I check every Friday to see what yummy wine she has listed. Check it out at:
 http://kendallandkeith.blogspot.com/2011/04/wine-friday-linky-party-petit-sirah.html 







April 21, 2011

~R~

R

is for Reality TV

I am officially a reality tv junkie. It's like my personal version of crack, and I must get my fix.

Here is a must for me:


AND.......... the Bachelor. Thanks to PB for getting me frickin hooked!

I have been watching Idol since season one. Go ahead, test my Idol knowledge. i double dog dare you!
Top Model? Who doesn't love Tyra? Her talk show is absolute garbage, but I can not walk away from Ms. J and Mr. J...... I love seeing how a regular, plain Jane girl can transform in to a high fashion model with a little hair, make-up and wardrobe change. Oh yeah, a little camera trickery too!
DWTS? I love, love, love to dance. One of these days I WILL learn how to salsa.... pause here for imagining me dancing the salsa across the dance floor in some hot little number, shaking what my momma gave me. Now, back to the show! I love to see these celebrities learn and grow as they take on each new dance. Their confidence and performance take off after they get a few dances under their belts..... family fun for sure. Doodle and I like to watch together. Lil C, not so much.
Survivor: Ok, take a bunch of young, good looking adults, throw in some retired folks and uber professionals, a few hillbilly's and strand them in a deserted area with very few rations and what do you get? Why Survivor of course! Depriving these people of food, shelter, and all the creature comforts of home, throw in some master manipulation and you have a recipe for great tv!
SYTYCD? The people who make the finals for this show are amazingly talented. Some of the dances that they show evoke great emotion. They do everything from jazz, contemporary, salsa, ballroom, hip hop and ballet......... try it out.

The other shows I like, but are not a do or die if I miss them?


So, which ones are you addicted to? What do you HAVE to watch?

April 20, 2011

~Q~

Q

is for Quiet Time

EVERYBODY needs this. I don't care who you are. You need ME time. Well, I need it. And since this is all about me.......... yeah.

Those times when you need a break from "mom, mom, Mommy, MOTHER, M-O-M!" When you need a rest from the chauffeur job, the laundry, dishes, Girl Scouts, school stuff, or the general "mom I need this, mom can you sign this, mom can you"....... fill in the blank days.

Who doesn't want to be me? Seriously?

My favorite "quiet" activities:

reading a GREAT book
taking a bubble bath (with a glass of wine)
watching my favorite TV shop, un-interrupted
going to my favorite stores
wandering down the craft store paper aisle........ drooling over what I either can't have, or shouldn't be buying
scrap booking with CHB
gossiping with my girlfriends

See, the necessity isn't that I be quiet. It's that time FOR me, about ME, away from all the other responsibilities, that I consider QUIET time. When I get to be selfish, thinking only of myself and whichever of the above activities that day that I have chosen to be my ME time.

I don't feel guilty about it either. You know why? Cause I need it, to be a better momma. It's like mommy crack. Except this time, it's good for you, a lot of these activities are free, and it won't make you shake uncontrollably from withdrawal. Well, you might foam at the mouth. But that would most likely occur from too little ME time.

So go forth. Yeah, I give you permission. Spend a few hours for yourself every week. You deserve it.

April 19, 2011

~P~ (A to Z Blogging Challenge)

P

is for Proper, Polite and Politically Correct

Proper: defined as "appropriate to the circumstance" by www.dictionary.com

Well, proper I am not. (big shock I am sure) Every time I hear this word I think of being in some old stuffy house, being made to sit on the edge of my chair and sip tea from fine china, without slurping mind you, and having the most boring, insufferable conversation ever. All the while, trying hard not to plug my nose at the ever present smell of moth balls, having to sit with my legs crossed, wearing something that for sure is uncomfortable and surely cuts off my air supply since it undoubtedly goes all the way up to my chin, not to mention some cinching at the waist line.............

Polite....... let's see. I can be polite when I have to be. Definitely at work, since I am paid to be nice :), outside of that? I struggle. I have limited patience for other people's idiocracy, stupidity or general retarded-ness. I can usually hold my tongue until such offenders are out of ear shot, but sometimes? I can't help myself. Like the time CHB and I were ready to stage WW3 in the frozen food aisle of Winco.

This chick, at the grocery store with her man, 5 kids and 2 carts of groceries, kept blocking the aisle. I swear CHB and I were behind her every time we turned the corner. It was getting old, and fast. CHB and I had been out ALL day getting groceries for our group camping trip and we were on the last stop.

The frozen food aisle is in the home stretch of this store. The second to last stop before you hit the checkout stands. CHB and I were done, done, stick a fork in us both done. We had to grab some frozen juices and this lady was standing on our last nerve. Our feet were hurting, we were tired, and starting to get testy with each other. (we knew the worst was still to come: unloading the car and putting all this food away) CHB and I attempt to maneuver our cart around her gaggle of people and we couldn't. She was blocking the entire aisle.

CHB politely, albeit through clenched teeth, says "excuse me" and tries to get around her. This chick turns around, then says to her children: "apparently we are in this ladies way". And SHE was testy about it! CHB rounds the median aisle and turns around and says "well maybe if you weren't blocking the entire aisle we could get around you". Holy shit. I thought there was going to be a throw down right there! Although, I was totally there to back up my homie. All 5 feet of me, was ready to land some punches on this white trash, low income, tramp stamp sporting bitch......... at the grocery store. I can only imagine what that would have looked like.. oh wait. It would have been like a yappy lap dog taking on a solid and very pissed off pit bull. Ahem.

Needless to say, the lady dropped it and CHB and I continued our way to the checkout. All the while, I was secretly hoping this chick would say something to us. Go ahead, I double dog dare you. Anyway, catch me in just the right mood, and I am most likely gonna give you an earful. Politeness be damned.

Politically correct: Oh, this one gets me. I understand that in certain times, places or situations it can become necessary no to offend the people around you; like at work, for Girl Scouts, school functions or around small children. But what pisses me off? When I have to taper what I say for fear that the people around me are going to be offended, even though it is my opinion. Like in a social situation: a party, on Facebook, in an email.........

I am not asking you to agree with me, carry my torch or jump on my bandwagon. Yet, other people take it upon themselves to let you know that you could be offending someone. Well guess what? If that person, or persons, are so offended, let them have enough balls to come to me and say something.

I'm tired of worrying about what other people say/think/feel. How about what I think or feel? How come I can't say what I want but other people do it all the time? Yeah, stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

***corrected***

April 18, 2011

~O~

O

is for Overwhelmed, Organize and Outstanding

I am being swallowed up by life. It's as if someone has pressed that button the DVR remote. You know the one I'm talking about. You press "fast forward" once and life moves slowly forward. In my case? You are starting to "see" less of my body as I am being covered by the quicksand that is quickly rising up my legs.

Remember the golf cart event from last week? Well, the estimates are in. First estimate? $1500. Second one? $1100. Good grief. Just what I need right now. It might as well be a million dollars at this point. Thankfully, heavy on the sarcasm here, the dude is willing to settle for a lessor amount. Between myself and the Josh's parents, I still have to fork out $600, but that is a lot better than $1500 out of my pocket.

Added on to this? I gave my landlord notice over the weekend. I am officially moving in with PB effective May 31st. Ummm, yeah. I am excited, but I am overwhelmed by the amount of stuff I need to get done in the next 6 weeks. Pack, find a storage unit, consolidate items (both at PB's house and mine) and clean my apartment. I HATE to move. Even though PB is only 2 miles away from me, the task is daunting......... packing/sorting/un-packing/organizing/what do I keep? What do I sell? Oi.

Organization is something that I sometimes struggle with. I have the best of intentions, really I do. At work, I know where everything is, where it goes and where the place I saw what I'm looking for. At home? Yeah, I try. Try being the key word in that sentence. I know where most of my important papers are. I keep the pantry and cupboards organized. But, I have this habit of dumping everything on the kitchen table when I walk in the door. bad, terrible, nasty habit. The good thing about moving in with PB? It forces me to deal with my crap the minute I walk in the door. He is a little on the OCD side...... which is a great motivator for me!

Wish me luck as I start to sort and pack my belongings..........

Outstanding is the word I am currently applying to Zumba. I l-o-v-e going.......... I work hard, sweat like a pig and feel great about myself when I'm done! A friend of mine introduced me to it a month or so ago and I am having so much fun! I wish I could go every day.......... I have lost 3 pounds already and I can see the difference. If you have not been, go and check it out! This is one of those classes where the more effort you put in to it, the better results you will see. But don't be intimidated! I am still learning some of the steps! http://www.zumba.com/about/

April 16, 2011

~N~

N

is for "No, No, No"

Thank you Amy Winehouse. You crazy, cracked out, smoky voiced, beehive toting, tattoo-ed girly. For without you, this post would not be the same.

I am in to a new shop. "Relapse". Brother/sister to the "Intervention" show on A&E.

I watch Intervention any chance I get. I find myself sitting down and letting the show draw me in. As I watch the people who struggle with their addictions, I find myself pulling for these people.

I watch their loved ones pulling for them, praying that they take the help that is being offered to them. I wait, with bated breath, for the end of the show. The part where it tells me what happened to them after they left rehab.

I cross my fingers and toes. I damn near cover my eyes. And hear it comes. I want to say that in 90% of these stories, the people who enter rehab make it. They go on to lead successful, happy, fulfilled lives.


But for the ones who say: "they try to make me go to rehab, but I said No, No, No"........

There is the new show Relapse. The last stop on the Help Train. The end of the line. The grand finale.

Your heart cries out for the wives, children, girlfriends, families who have to deal with these people. They have poured their heart and soul in to helping their loved ones become clean and sober.

This stop, this is it. If the sober coach they have asked to come can not help, there really is no hope.

I thank my lucky stars every day that I don't have to deal with this. That my children are free of this disease that grabs you buy the balls and wont let go.

For more information on the show, please go to http://www.aetv.com/intervention/index.jsp

April 15, 2011

~M~

M

is for M&M's

As far back as I can remember, M&M's have been a part of my life. And not in a "I ate them as a kid" kind of way.

My great grandfather was a HUGE fan. Pops, as my mom, sister and I called him, would eat a 2 pound bag E-V-E-R-Y week, somehow maintaining his stylish figure.

When he came to live with us full time when I was 12 years old, we would walk the mile and a half to the grocery store together. Pops, then 91, and I would walk and talk the whole way there.

When we got in to the store, we would head straight for the candy aisle. First thing in the basket was a huge bag of M&M's, and and not just any kind. Original milk chocolate was his favorite.

When he got to be 94 or so, the walk was too much for him. No more trips to the store alone, or with us kids.

We would buy Pops the "fun" packages that came out at Easter, Valentine's day and Christmas. Even though he was legally blind and could not see the cute graphics on the package, if you placed that bag in his hand he knew exactly what it was!

We wrote to the M&M company and told them of Pops' love for their product, they sent us a commemorative car with the red and green M&M driving it. Pops proudly displayed that in his room! Today, that treasure is something Lil C now houses in his room.

Doodle and Lil C always knew that when they went in to Pops bedroom they weren't leaving without a handful of those bright colored milk chocolate candies.

Today, the kids and I have a special place in our heart for this sweet treat. We eat them for breakfast on Christmas Day, buy them in all different flavors and always are on the lookout for special M&M treats.
I truly miss Pops, who left us February 2006. I am so thankful that Lil C and Doodle had the chance to get to know and love him like I do.

April 14, 2011

~L~

L

is for Lil C

My handsome young lad.

When you were born, you were not breathing. You got stuck in the birth canal and the doctors had to use the forceps to get you out. They rushed you off to the special care nursery to revitalize your 8 pound 2 ounce body. You were whisked away so quickly I did not even get to hold you in my arms. (In fact, you "saw" every member of the family before I laid eyes on you for the first time.)


You had a nice cone shaped head with a little bit of light blond peach fuzz. You were the best little baby I had ever known. You rarely cried, except for 1 month of colic hell, and you were so easy to make smile.

When you were 9 months old you got the chicken pox. You were so good about it! You hung out at Nana's house until you were no longer contagious...... my little polka dot prince!

When you sister was little you were so sweet and loving towards her, the perfect picture of a big brother.

Such an angel while you slept.
A super ham all the time. Any chance you got to perform, you took it!
You and your baseball........ you loved to play! You ate, slept and drank and breathed baseball.

As you turned 9,10 and 11, you would still ham it up if you knew your friends weren't around.
12 years old and a super camper, explorer, lover of nature.
13 and so concerned about what you looked like. Had to be cool, especially for the ladies!
14 and you switched to soccer. You excelled at it; especially after picking it back up from a 4 year absence.

I am so excited to see the man you will become. You are so sweet and I know some day you will make a great father.

To my son, quickly turning from a boy to a man:
I wish for you smooth sailing through these high school years.
I have so much faith in you.
I love you.

April 13, 2011

~K~

K

is for Knockout/K.O.

Yeah, that was my day yesterday. I woke up, got the kids to school, got to work. Everything was fine. On Tuesday's I only work until 2:30pm (because it's the day the kids go back to HeeHaw and we have Girl Scouts).

Let's just say that when I left work, in a great mood I might add, things quickly turned to shit. And I mean in a 0 to 60 kinda way.

I spent 30 minutes on the phone with HeeHaw about Doodle. (and just so you know, I had this huge post all typed out that detailed the entire story. as I went to re-read it, the post sounded tedious and overwhelming......) I recently put Doodle in counseling and HeeHaw doesn't agree to it OR with it.
Because he decided that counseling is not important, he does not want to pay for it. Our children are "screaming" out for help. If it were up to HeeHaw, these problems would continue to fester and grow until they were out of control. Great.

Just add this to the list of things I pay for that the children do. We won't even go in to the fact that he makes 3 times what I make and yet can't afford any of these "non essential " items that I somehow manage to pay for.........

No, that wasn't the kicker of my day. Did it make me mad? Does he always manage to find a way to get under my skin and piss me off? Hell  yeah. But here is what K.O.'d me yesterday, and I went down in round 1.

Lil C is allowed to take PB's golf cart through the neighborhood to the bus stop. He picks up Doodle and another neighbor boy and brings them back. Well, yesterday he did just that. And then went back out with the neighbor boy, Josh.

Well, Josh and Lil C were goofing around on the golf cart. Not supposed to, yes I know. Apparently Josh had his scooter outside the golf cart cause he was gonna hop out and right on to the scooter when things went astray.

The scooter slipped in Josh's hand, hitting a parked car. It dented and scratched the car at point of impact. In his haste to recover, Lil C then scraped along the side of the car with the golf cart. O.M.G. Shoot me now. PB is pretty mad. He just bought that cart on Saturday. Josh's parents are pissed and all I can see are dollar signs in front of my eyes.

Myself and Josh's parents go over and talk with the person whose car got hit. I am currently awaiting an estimate to see what this is gonna cost me. I can only hope by some miracle it is less than $1000 since Josh's parents will be paying a portion as well. At this point I could have been blown over with a feather. It goes without saying that the golf cart is off limits to Lil C and Josh........

As I packed up the chitlins to take them to HeeHaw's house, I left it up to Lil C as to whether or not he wanted to tell his dad. I figured they are in enough trouble there, why add to it? We shall see what happens.
Cause when it rains in my world, it freaking pours.

April 12, 2011

~J~

J

is for Jeans

I am a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. Most every weekend you can find me in jeans. I would rather wear jeans around the house than pajama or lounge pants.

You can dress them up. You can dress them down. You can wear them with high heels or tennis shoes. You can make a pair of jeans in to a pair of capri's in about 1 minute.

There is stone washed, acid washed, distressed, dark denim, light denim, boot cut, skinny leg, slimming jeans and relaxed fit.

Jeans have come a LONG way in the last 5 years. We now have the "fashion pants" jeans. You know the ones. Stuff all over the pockets, strategic distressing in the front on the legs. And guess what? I am a fan. Shamelessly.
Image courtesy of www.buckle.com

I am only 5 feet tall. Let me tell you what jean shopping looks like for me:

I find the cutest pairs. I hold them up to my waist to see how long they are going to be. Most don't make it past that first test. For the few** that do, it is off to the dressing room. I pull them on, one leg at a time, feeling the excitement grow as I pull them up. And then? My face falls and I am heart broken once again. Cause guess what? They are too long. (insert sobbing here) Do they think that only tall people can wear these cute jeans? Where is the love for the under 5 foot 3 crowd?

Problem 2: I have a booty. Not just a round ass but a "o.m.g. Becky, would you look at her butt? it is so big........." kind of butt. Add that to being vertically challenged and jeans shopping is a nightmare. So when you see me around town wearing jeans with holes in them that have seen much better days, you will know why.

Problem 3: Like the above picture buckle jeans (which I covet by the way) I have a small budget. I can not afford $125 to $150 for a pair of frickin jeans. I am willing to spend $50 but anymore than that and I'm out. Now tell me where I can find petite length "fashion pants" for less than $50???? Help.

April 11, 2011

~I~

I

is for Insecure

Defined by dictionary.com as:

1. subject to fears, doubts, etc.; not self-confident or assured: an insecure person.
2. not confident or certain; uneasy; anxious: He was insecure about the examination.
3. not secure; exposed or liable to risk, loss, or danger.

Yes, we all have, and women especially, a few insecurities. Whether at home, or at work, there is that voice in the back of your head reminding you of what you can't do, or won't succeed at.

Baring Your Soul? Party of 1? Your table is ready.......... and here we go.

My unedited list of insecurities, cosmetics first:

My thighs
My smile(thanks to a missing tooth)
My stretch marks
My stomach

Now, on this next stretch of the tour folks, keep your hands inside the tram at all times as we are headed to the places rarely seen by the light of day:

I am insecure about so many things, where do I start? Most people think I have my shit together. (Fooled them didn't I?) Just because I am opinionated, loud and VERY vocal does not mean that I am perfectly happy with who I am. Does not mean that I don't feel or hurt the same as you. I had no idea how many insecurities I had until I sat down to really think about it.

With becoming a divorced woman, and putting myself out there in the dating world again, there were a lot of things about myself that I had to take a cold hard look at. Was I still attractive to the opposite sex? Here I was, fresh out of a 13 year marriage. Not having "let myself go" just because I was married, I was still no spring chicken. My age may have said so (hee hee) however I felt like I was 10 years older than I really was.

Would my opinionated persona turn them away? Would they be able to handle my argumentative side? Would they be able to get past all that blustering to the inside of me?

Not having been to college, would I even have things to talk about with these guys? Would I look or sound uneducated? Would that be a strike against me?

Then comes the heavy stuff. Would they get my mixed emotions? I am a complicated simple person. Um yeah. For the most part I say what I mean, mean what I say and wear my emotions on my sleeve. Would that be too much for the men out there? Would they be able to understand that I am not an overly emotional person? Clarification: if you make me mad, you will know it. If I am frustrated, happy or confused, you will know it. But rarely do I get weepy/sappy/overly emotional in front of someone else. I am not a crier, and it takes A LOT for me to break down in front of anyone else, just ask my mom.

If they are able to get past all of that........ having two children, my body was not what it was when I was 18. Then again, most of us mom's don't look the way we did pre-kids anyway. This did nothing for my self confidence. What was going to happen the first time I got naked in front of someone else? Would they see the road map my children had left across my lower body, tuck tail and run away screaming "my eyes! they are burning! make it stop"! Would they take one look at my tata's and see imperfections? I feel better when I present my body "packaged".

And if all of THAT was not enough, would they be able to deal with all the baggage that a recently divorced women brings? Would they be able to see past all of that? Would they be willing to take the time to get past my guarded heart?

I felt pretty ok with who I was prior to starting to date, however all these things ran through my mind just the same. I know I am not the easiest person to deal with and that just fed all these insecurities. Self exploration is hard work, and since I was forced to do it after my divorce, I feel like I have a better handle on it than I used to.

Every day is an opportunity to overcome these insecurities but letting go is the hardest part. Before you go away thinking I am having a pity party here let me be clear: I don't think I am ugly, I don't think I am a complete turn off to men. I am happy, mostly, with who I am and what other people see in me.

I challenge you to delve deep in to your innards and see what it is you are most insecure about. Once you identify it, ask yourself this. Are you willing to acknowledge and accept it and are you willing to change it?

April 9, 2011

~H~

H

is for HeeHaw/Henry the 8th

What else could I possibly put for the letter H? I know I have beaten this subject like a dead horse, but that isn't stopping me from doing it again!
Henry the 8th
Heehaw has some very similar qualities to this man. He is selfish, two faced, single minded and has a wandering eye.
I am sure that given the power and ability to rule like Henry did, HeeHaw would behead just as many people.

Even though I am no longer this man's wife, I will have to deal with him on a regular basis for at least the next 6 years. That in itself is enough to make me want to bury my head in the sand.
Henry the 8th will always put himself first. He is all about the instant gratification, doing whatever it takes to get what he wants.

That's where this comes in:  
HeeHaw has so many jackass qualities, I'm not sure I have enough room here to list them all so I will just give you my favorites....... insert heavy sarcasm.

Selfish
Single minded
Hypocrite
Perfectionist
Narrow minded
Harsh
Two faced
Wishy washy

To HeeHaw, you must be cool, say the right thing, hang out with the right people, and be the head of your house. To him, if you want something, you will beg/borrow/steal to make sure you get it and everything else be damned. HeeHaw is incapable of having any grace or understanding for those different then he is, or who believe something that goes against what he believes in.
He has little tolerance for the silly/goofy/fun things that can happen spontaneously.

Now that Heehaw is getting married this becomes someone else's problem. Thank goodness. Now that I have the proverbial monkey off my back, I am free to be me.

April 8, 2011

~G~

G

is for Girlfriends

Friend (courtesy of www.dictionary.com )
~noun

1. a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.
2. a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter: friends of the Boston Symphony.
3. a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile.

But "girlfriend" to me means so much more.

A girlfriend is the person you can call in the middle of the night.
The girls you lean on through good times and bad.
The gals who will help you get ready for a first date, and then when you break up with him, bash him like nobody's business.
The girls you break bread with, laugh until you pee your pants with, and who are sitting beside you in jail.
The girls that you can be your true self with, who know your flaws, call you on them but love you anyway.
The girls who pay for you when your low on funds, who you would do the same for.
The girls who have your back and will take down anyone who doesn't.
The friends who your kids can call when they cant reach you, because they are "mom" too......

So, to my peeps, my homies, my girlfriends, my crew; there is only one thing to say.

Thank you.

Without you, I would have a boring life, no stories to tell and nobody to call!

And you know; if anyone messes with my peoples? I will be all over them like a spider monkey jacked up on Mountain Dew!