Blessed Be

Happy Thanksgiving!

Okay, Happy Day-After-Thanksgiving!

Lovely day yesterday. Cooked and lazed and cooked and ate and lazed and ate some more. I”m sleepy today but at My Mom’s as we are going to spend the remainder of the day making fruitcake and nut butter crunch.

And I thought I’d share a brief list of the things I’m thankful for…

  • Family- well duh… That’s pretty much a given. Beautiful daughters, devoted husband, loving parents, yada yada yada…
  • Security- You know, a job and a roof over our heads and the means to put food on our table. It’s easy to forget sometimes that not everybody has those luxuries.
  • Wide open spaces- I love sitting on the couch in My Mom’s living room and looking out the window to see fields and pastures and mountains and trees. And if you look really, really hard, you might see a house or two. Maybe.
  • Friendly cops- I got stopped on the way here yesterday because my inspection sticker is overdue. He listened too my brief explanation about how the guy who is going to repair the exhaust pipe so the car will actually pass inspection is at deer camp right now and I have to wait until he gets back. And then he smiled, advised me not to forget about it, made a comment about the cute baby in the back, wished me a happy holiday and sent me on my way.
  • Pajama pants- Ahhhhhhhhh
  • Lard- Ok, gross right? Makes the best pie crust you have ever eaten in your entire life. Seriously.
  • Overalls and blown kisses and turkey legs and four-day weekends and random hugs and snorting when you laugh and footie jammies and music and good food and friends stopping by and snuggling on the couch and turkey comas and PIE.
  • Oh… and let’s not forget… The Dishwasher.
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Sharing is Caring…

Apparently it’s one of those days…

Just thought I’d share.

Scars and reminders

I noticed this morning, the claw marks on my arm from my disintegration 6 months ago are almost completely faded away. And I realized with a pang, I’m almost sad to see them go.

Over the years, I have accumulated a multitude of marks, scars and the like. They are internal and external, intentional and involuntary, beautiful and ugly. And I cherish them all. Everything has a story, each mark holds some kind of meaning for me and each one represents some kind of triumph or tragedy, all lessons learned, whether it be a reminder to watch your hand when closing the car door or a vestige of 200+ pounds of weight loss.

I have gotten 3 tattoos in the past 15 years. Each one signifies a turning point in my life, a moment marked, an acknowledgement of some tiny revelation about who I am. When I was 18 or 19, I had an image of a rose, wrapped around a dagger on my left… chest area. A reminder to protect my heart, that passion is often accompanied with pain.

A few years later, on my right leg, another rose, in full bloom with a large butterfly perched on top. I was in college, coming out of my cocoon and beginning to bloom. This was also when I began to emerge as a mother. I still had a long way to go at that point, caring for Princess Punk was still far beyond my capabilities then. But it was the beginning; I was venturing out into the world and finding that life could be beautiful.

My last is also my favorite. It was custom and it cost way more than I had the budget for at that time. I was still in my 20’s, finishing my BA, figuring out where to go next. I had been through a hellish year, one of my worst. I had been hospitalized and was finally diagnosed as bipolar. Princess Punk was living with my parents and I was trying to grow up a little bit. I’d started to leave behind some of the immaturity that had plagued me. I’d finally realized that drinking and hanging out and smoking pot were not going to get me anywhere and the people I had chosen to associate with were not my friends, that sperm donor and his family did not need to be a part of our lives and The Princess needed a real mom, especially since she didn’t actually have a dad. I was working out some confusion about my own sexuality and trying to figure out what I really wanted in life and love. I had found my good and my bad, my ups and downs, my yin and yang. And while I still hadn’t balanced anything by any means, I had finally recognized that both sides were an integral part of who I was.

I’ve been through a lot in the past few decades. I’m happy now. I love my family, I love my job, I’m happy with my life in general. Obviously I have shit to deal with, as does everyone else in the world, but having these mementos of where I’ve been and how far I’ve come can be extremely grounding.

I’ve been pondering, for a while now, one more tattoo…

An open letter to… The Place where I just bought my dinner

Dear Drive-Thru-That-I-Will-Not-Use-The-Name-Of-Because-I-Don’t-Want-To-Get-Sued,

Let me start by saying…

EW. I was forced to go to your restaurant tonight because you are one of the 2 drive thru restaurants in town, I had my 10 month old in the car and I didn’t want donuts for dinner. Let me list the ways you managed to piss me off tonight.

1. A line. I realize this particular thing is not your fault, just bad timing on my part but it only served to annoy me even more about the remaining issues. Although, I suppose you might have sped things up by actually using the two order stations that you messed up my pharmacy parking lot in order to install. For TWO MONTHS.

2. The shake machine was broken. Which was irritating. And it made my husband sad.

3. I ordered, and I quote, the “two-for-a-dollar apple pies.” Which apparently are no longer two for a dollar. Which I would not have known at all unless it hadn’t shown up on the screen in front of me. It’s not like I am going to bitch about the extra 19 cents but it would have been nice if the girl who was taking my order had mentioned this change in pricing.

4. I also ordered your new “featured” burger. This was advertised to have cheddar and sauteed onions on it. When I finally received my hastily put together burger (as in one slice of the cheese and the burger patty were about halfway off the bun and glued to the side of the box, I wish I had taken a picture, it was an Epic Fail), it had 2 small pieces of onion stuck in a blobbet of whatever the condiment was which was squarely and solely in the center of the top bun. I’d say about a 1 inch diameter glob. And to complete the ick, American Cheese. I’m sorry, but wouldn’t this be considered false advertising? I don’t actually like American Cheese and I doubt I would have ordered the $5 burger (seriously? $5?) if I had known. It’s not like you could mistake one for the other… One is yummy and delicious, the other is gluey and tastes like paste.

5. I say “finally received my burger” because I had to sit outside your door and wait for my slightly-more-than-two-for-a-dollar apple pies. And you made the stellar choice to hang on to the rest of my food while I was waiting. Which left me with piping hot apple pies and lukewarm burger and fries. Which, as I’m sure you know, do not reheat well in a microwave.

6. The coup de grâce? This lukewarm burger and fries, slightly-more-than-two-for-a-dollar apple pies, 2 teeny “value menu” cheeseburgers for my husband, a large soda with so much ice in it I drank it in about 3 sips and NOT a chocolate shake for my man… Nearly THIRTEEN DOLLARS. Which is a dollar short of my coffee budget for the entire week.

My family is broke. We do not go out to eat very often, when we do it is usually out of necessity rather than a treat. However, just because we don’t eat in restaurants for special occasions, doesn’t mean we are okay with eating crap. In fact, it makes it even more aggravating and downright distressing when we spend our hard-earned and carefully budgeted money on something so utterly unpleasant.

And I ate it. I ate the sticky, microwaved burger and the stale, soggy fries and my apple pie. Because I didn’t have time to take the “food” back to your restaurant and ask them to fix it. And because I was so incensed that I was near tears and I didn’t feel like crying over a damned hamburger in front of a kid who makes minimum wage and who probably would rather be anywhere else. And because, besides ramen noodles, I didn’t have anything else to eat that wouldn’t require at least 30 minutes to prepare. And because I was starved because I hadn’t eaten much all day. And because I was damned sure I wasn’t going to throw out food I just spent my coffee budget on even if it was gross.

So thank you. Thank you very much Drive-Thru-That-I-Will-Not-Use-The-Name-Of-Because-I-Don’t-Want-To-Get-Sued. Thank you for ending my particularly taxing day on a sour note. Make that a lukewarm, greasy, sticky, soggy, squishy note.

That “Thank you” was sarcastic by the way. The tone doesn’t always come across in writing, especially when the reader is a big stupid doody-head.

Navigating the rapids

So… Another reason I haven’t been posting much lately…

My brain is kinda effed up.

Wait. Ok. So my brain has been effed up since forever, what I mean is, right now, I am having a teeny bit of trouble keeping my thoughts on track long enough to actually write a post. I think it’s mostly this time of year, the fall-winter-holiday clusterfuck we all know and love. And of course this year we have another person and all her demanding requirements and urgent needs to toss into the soup. Add to that a total lack of sleep and a few short weeks at work making my workflow a little less flow-y and TA DA (The Peach’s favorite new phrase… frikkin adorable) endless random streams of thought all merging together into a huge, frothy, raging river, leaving silty deposits throughout my day of crap I should have done, but forgot.

So I figured… Since I haven’t posted in FOREVER, instead of trying to organize my thoughts into a coherent post focusing on one thing, I’d give you a taste of what kinda shit is racing through my mind at any given moment.

Since I’m going to be typing rather quickly in order to keep up with the flow, I’ll be shortening monikers to initials (The Zen Master will be ZM, The Peach TP… ew… how about just P. Princess Punk will be PP and so on.)

Got your life jacket on?

Starts out with a trickle… A babbling brook emerging from some sort of external stimulus that reminds me of something I’m supposed to do;

Oh! That reminds me… I have to call the acupuncturist to see if that might work for some pain relief.

All of a sudden, 15 more babbling brooks simultaneously dump into the first creating a fully robust stream of consciousness. From here on out, these thoughts overlap, some one after another, some occurring at the same time. There’s no way to really portray that in a blog, just imagine a whole shit-load of canoes all tied together about to hit the rapids.

Please remain seated and keep your arms and legs inside the boat at all times.

Oh crap, I have to make an appointment for PP to get that missing vaccination the school keeps calling me about and she needs her flu shot too or will she get that done at the endo? And P needs hers too and ZM, I made an appointment for them but I dunno if he actually remembered because he never answered my text. Goddammit I HATE it when he does that I mean how hard is it to type in a simple text reply just to acknowledge you got it. Especially since his phone is all screwy now and I don’t know why he didn’t return the stupid thing when it was still under warranty. Now PP needs a new phone too I can’t believe she dropped it in the toilet and flushed the battery. (Yes, you read that right.) Who does that? And CG doesn’t have a spare. I need to call her about the medicinal MJ thing. I’m glad my therapist is on board but I’m worried my doctor will not agree to it. Oh well, it’s better than drinking anyway. I wish wine wasn’t making me sick I hate that. Maybe it’s the green beans I dunno why I am so obsessed with eating those damn things it can’t be good for my jaw. I have to get my splint fixed that rough spot is really bugging me I keep scraping my tongue. Why is the tongue a muscle that you seem to have very little control over? I mean I can’t actually keep the damn thing still and I don’t even know what a relaxed position for the tongue is. Weird. And ew I need a tissue. I have to wash my hair. I have to go to the drug store, what was it I needed? Oh yeah, um, crap nope it’s gone. Let’s see we’re all set on baby food and toilet paper and I need to clean the bathroom. The shower is gross. I need to wash my hair. I can’t believe how long it is now. I look so different now. I don’t even remember looking different though people are so surprised when I tell them I lost so much weight. I need to start doing yoga again. Not that I did it often before, the stupid Wii board thingy is out of batteries again. There is too much dog hair on the floor. WTF is wrong with FD he needs to be brushed so badly. And ZM says he smells bad too but I don’t know. He is so good with P. He is a good dog. I neglect him so much and he still loves me. I suck. He needs to go to the vet. I think he’s like a year behind on his shots. Have I ever gotten a town license for him? I don’t know. The beast needs shots too. PP needs to clean her room it’s starting to smell again. I have to put up those sheep decals on P’s wall. We’ve had them for a year now. I’d like to put a rug on that floor. The living room needs a rug too. Do we need to turn on the heating tape so the pipes don’t freeze? Maybe ZM did it I should ask him. Stupid truck. I have to talk to that lady at work to see when her husband can fix the heater. my sticker is still expired oh well at least my headlights fixed, if I get stopped I’ll just tell them I’m waiting to get the pipe fixed. Whatever. Why is the speed limit 55 near Burlington and 65 everywhere else? What are we having for dinner tonight? I don’t know why ZM is incapable of making this decision I always get home and he asks me like I know what there is when I just got there. He’s a cook for god’s sake. But he did the dishes. Why does he leave the water in the sink like that it’s disgusting. I need to go to Big Lots and get that cereal storage container. And PP needs something too. I wonder if we’re ever going to paint her room. Is she staying at mom’s tonight? I wish she would stay home and help me with the baby so I can get some cleaning done. I’m probably just going to screw around on FB anyway. I have to figure out how to set up the computer so she can only get online a certain amount of time. Did I call her teacher back? Ugh the nurse. Why is she so bitchy with me all the time? I’m a good mom goddammit. PP is crazy. Maybe I’m not a good mom, if I was a good mom she’s be more respectful right? When is her next appointment? I need to upload her pump. Wasn’t I supposed to do that already? We never did pull out that garden in the front. I wish we could afford a nicer house. I’m gonna buy a lottery ticket. I’ve spent too much money on crap this week. I am supposed to leave my card at home so I don’t do that WTF? I need nail clippers. I have nail clippers I need PP to give me my shit back. I cannot believe she got paint on my best pair of jeans why does she do that? She always takes my stuff without asking. And now I’m supposed to find a positive thing about it? I like that behavioral therapist lady but WTF am I supposed to say, it bothers me that you took my favorite jeans and ruined them but good job on not taking my shoes too! Stupid. I need to go to mom’s. That dog is such a pain. He’s always in the way it drives me nuts. I should talk to dad abou… what was I supposed to talk to him about? I should be blogging. I have so many things to talk about, I didn’t even write a post about Halloween or that thing that happened with P at the eye doctor. Or did I? I haven’t even logged on in days. I have to get a new computer I hate that stupid thing. I need to wash the floor in the living room it’s getting gross.

Okay, my fingers hurt so I’m ceasing. But you get the idea. And this goes on and on and on and on and … yeah. So trying to pull a minnow of a blog post out of those raging rapids is kinda… difficult.

Hope you didn’t get too wet.

Heh.

 

 

Last night…

And the night before…

And the night before that…

And the night before that…

And the… You get the picture.

The Zen Master and I got this;

And ended up with this;

And THAT is why I haven’t posted in awhile. Because I am the walking dead right now.

Last night was particularly bad too. The Zen Master was so tired that he fell asleep immediately and every time he woke up he startled so much the bed would move. He was fairly useless with The Peach since he either didn’t wake up at all or he was so sleepy I was afraid he was going to drop her or roll over on her or something horrible. My stomach was messed up so I was in the bathroom on and off every 15-20 minutes. Which happens. But since The Peach was being such a was having so much trouble sleeping, every time I put her down she started the siren. At some point I was so frustrated and tired I thought I might just let her cry it out and I put her in the crib, shut the door and turned off the monitor. Then I curled up on the couch and felt guilty for 30 minutes while my 10-month-old went back and forth between an ear-splitting scream and a heart-rending sob. At which point Princess Punk woke up. And she sat with The Peach for awhile.

At some point The Zen Master actually woke up and apparently couldn’t get back to sleep but instead of taking the weeping child, he instead decided to stomp around, clean the kitchen and put in a load of laundry.

At any rate, we ended up in bed, as pictured above, hot and sticky little whirling dervish flopping around and randomly whimpering as The Zen Master and I tried valiantly not to fall out of bed.

Bleh.

Do they make Ambien for babies?

Diversion…

Okay, so I had planned this big post about the election and voting and politics and yada yada yada…

But then on my way home from work, I get a phone call from the social worker at Princess Punk’s school. Who then proceeded to tell me she was calling to give me an update on “The Situation.” WTF? When she perceived my obvious confusion she realized that The Princess  had NOT told me what exactly was going on and went on to tell me that there was an investigation going on about some possible “sexual harassment.”

Yeah. Really.

Apparently Princess Punk had come to her in response to some… issues… she was having with some of the boys at school. Someone had started a rumor that Princess Punk’s boobs (now a 34B) were in fact, fake. Actually, what she said was kids were saying she stuffed her bra, Princess Punk later corrected that statement and said that what was actually going around was that she had breast implants.

And then the social worker told me that several boys had gone so far as to “poke” The Princess to see “if they were real.”

Um… EXCUSE ME?

She also said there was some sort of text messaging going around as well but she wasn’t clear on the details of that.

There is a formal investigation going on. The social worker tells me there should be more news by the end of the week.

I am highly tempted to run these little shits over with my car the next time I see them (the school did not tell me who it was but Princess Punk did).

But I am at least proud of my girl. This kid… No, this young woman, who never talks to adults about anything like this, had the courage and maturity to stand up for herself and tell an adult when she felt uncomfortable.

I honestly don’t even know what else to say about this right at this moment. It’s still kinda sinking in. I have been preparing myself for all kinds of crap coming along with Princess Punk’s rapidly developing body, but I have to say, I never expected this.

At the moment… Trying to cool off and deal with this in a rational manner. Because I really don’t want to end up slapping a 7th grade boy in the middle of the grocery store.

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