So frustrated

...I can't even begin to describe how frustrated I am right now.

I want to go and scream and cry and punch things right now.

This is why I don't trust men.  You let them get close to you and even think that you can be friends with them and they always, always, ALWAYS managed to hit the flush button and let everything go down the shitter.

So, I guess I need to take a step back from my anger and frustration to explain to the absolute zero people that read this why I am so pissed off.

My ex, Randy, told the girls that instead of bringing them out for Christmas in New Mexico, he was coming out here and he was bringing my son Jovaughn.  Well the girls got excited, I got excited, and after six months of not seeing the boy and rarely hearing from him, my mother got excited.  The girls told mostly all of Charlotte that their daddy and their brother were coming here for Christmas.  My mother told the church and that probably spread it to the rest of Charlotte.

so a lot of people are excited that if nothing else, Jovaughn is coming.

I hate when I get texts from my ex asking if I'm at home.  That never means good news.  And when I got that text this afternoon, I was sure he was just calling me with travel details but he wasn't.

He was calling to tell me he might not make it here because he is trying to book his flight and all he can find is going to cost him almost a grand to get he and my son out here.  Instead he proposes that he take the boy out of school for a couple of days for his other son's birthday and take a few days out here.  By spend a few days out here, I mean that he'll spend a couple days with the boy and then come down here on a school day, bother me for a few hours and then when the kids get out of school, he'll spend a few hours with them and fly out that night.

I don't know how my mother did it all those years, have to explain to me that I wasn't going to get to see my dad and not do it with tears in her eyes or streaming down her face because she was so frustrated.  I mean she didn't have to do it very long but that's probably because I grew up and got a little desensitized as children are wont to do.  Just... still...

I must confess there has been a pause here.  I started typing this blog at about 3:30 and it's now 6:10.

He called back and caught me at a very unladylike moment at day.  I'm sorry to say that all of the things that had been running at top speed through my mind bumrushed the roadblock and fell out of my mouth.  The cusses and the curses on his immortal soul were nice enough to hang back to eye the destruction.  And having said nothing that I would need to go to church and confess even though I'm not Catholic, I was able to tell him that if I didn't hang up we would both regret the conversation so that was it, I was done, and he could call the girls and tell them himself.

He still has yet to call and tell them that he's not coming.  Of course he hasn't swung the official hammer on that, but I know it's coming.  It has to be coming.  Trust me, when one shoe flies across the room because of him, the other one is usually not very far behind so if you're gonna duck, better stay down.

So even though it's ebbed and abated, that's my anger and frustration.

As I've ended a great many of my blogs...

Le Sigh....

20 random things about me...

1. I like the smell of dryer lint.  I could literally be in a room of dryers all day long.  I love them.  It's the main reason I do laundry.

2.  As much as I like the smell of dryer lint and fresh clean clothes, I hate all air fresheners that supposedly smell like Fresh linen...

3. My perfect house has a clothes line in the backyard where I can have sun dried laundry in the spring and summer.

4. I have been planning my wedding for the last ten years.  All I need in the man.

5. I don't know how to kiss.  I really don't.  My ex only gave me chase pecks on the cheek. We didn't even kiss on the mouth at our wedding.

6. I don't know what love feels like.  I've heard it described but I have never felt it.

7. I carry a knife everywhere.

8. IF you ever read my writing, and I mean my 'fictional' writings, you will know just how badly I've been hurt in life.  But I will never tell you.

9. I couldn't hold a secret in a brown paper bag.  Seriously, I have even been known to tell my stuffed animals secrets just so that I can tell it.

10.  I'm scared of ever falling in love.

11.  Sometimes when I'm all alone, I turn on music like the hamster dance and dance until I can't breathe... just for the hell of it.

12.  I'm scared of horses and clowns.  Clowns who ride horses can actually cause tears.

13.  I'm so claustrophobic that I will refuse to get on an elevator if an overweight person is on.  Totally stereotypical but it's me and considering I'm not a twig myself.

14.  I love grocery shopping.  It opens up so may food possibilities that it's almost mind blowing.

15.  I can cook a lot of stuff but I rarely eat it.  I have no reasoning behind this.

16.  I am a serious people pleaser.  Unless you piss me off.  Then I will go out of my way to piss you off even if I don't like what I am doing.

17.  I type better with my hunt and peck than I do if I try to do it the way they insisted I type in high school.

18.  I hate talking on the phone.  I only have a house phone because my mother insists on it.  I would rather text you than call you on the phone.  Most people worry when someone won't answer the phone.  I worry when people don't return my texts...

19.  I have a weakness for bald men.  There is no rational reason behind this.  There isn't an actor I like that is bald that I can think of, there hasn't been a role model in my life that made me love bald heads, I just find them so incredibly sexy that, well....

20.  Blogging and writing are my sanity devices.  If I couldn't write down the things in my head down I would be locked up in a room somewhere.

Angels

...Are everywhere in my life.  I am so thankful that I don't know what to do.

Do you know what I did tonight?  I went to the store and got my daughters a gift each for Christmas.  Because of kind, awesome people my girls are getting at least one gift that they will love each.  They don't have to share and these gifts mean something.

Olivia got a Justin Beiber singing doll.  I'm hoping that with a lot of patience, I won't care about the song.  No promises if she leaves it downstairs...  She's crazy about that little white boy so the fact that I'm able to get it for her... Awesome!!

Kayla got a confidence and beauty doll.  They are a set of dolls created by a black woman to enforce that African American girls don't need massive amounts of make-up and fendi purses and Ugg boots to look good.  It doesn't matter if she she's a little chunky or has curly or straight hair...  She is beautiful.

I got her this one:

Scroll down to the middle of the page. I got Kayla the doll in the back.

I also hope to get her the scrap booking supplies but if it doesn't happen, I'm not pushing it.

So I guess I can chalk today up as a good day.  I can go to be feeling like a good mother.

Sigh...

Arg... I cannot get motivated...

...And seriously, you'd think that the fact that my ex is coming to stay here, at my house, for four days in less than two weeks would motivate me to get up off my tukas and clean.  BUT it hasn't.  This Christmas is going to be sucky, I already know that.

The donation thing on GoFundMe.com is going slow.  It's going though and with any hope, my kids might get a good Christmas.  After last year when they had to pretend to be happy with the two or three gifts I was able to afford, I was kinda hoping to have a Christmas where they didn't have to lie to make me feel like I wasn't a fuck up of a mom.  Next year we won't have to dance around and pretend.  Next year I plan to have a job.

But enough about the bad.

Crap, I completely forgot what I was going to blog about.

I really hate senior moments.  I used to call them blonde moments but then I realized... I'm not blonde.  I've tried to be a couple of times but it usually turns out orange and there's no such things as orange moments.

At least I sincerely hope there aren't... That would be scary if there were.

Scary for you guys I mean.  My world is creepy enough that very little scares me.  You would be terrified and reduced to cowering in a corner within ten minutes in my world.

And I still haven't remembered where I was going with this blog.

OH YEAH!!

I'm not motivated to clean.  I want to.  I really kinda sorta do.  It's not like my house is dirty... It's just messy.  There is something every single place in my house and I would kinda like to see my floor again.

But here's the thing.  Winter is that warm cozy season where you curl up with your guy and just chill.  Or in my case curl up with my pillows whose mass could be weighed against a very solid man.  IT's the season where you cuddle and watch old movies and just relax.  And then when Spring comes, you have all this energy and you get stuff done because you've spent all winter being cozy.

Yes I realize that that rationalization make absolutely no damn sense but it's my blog and I'll rationalize chalk if I want to!  LOL.

I really need to clean.  I figure if I keep saying it, I will motivate myself.

It's not working...

I'm going to go curl up with my mountain of pillows.  I have been yawning all night.  Hopefully my trazadone will negate the fact that I drank a cup full of pepsi.  I think it will.

So I've babbled on here long enough to count this as a meaningful blog.

I'm still not going to clean.  At least not tonight...

Goodnight folks!

Missing

You know, say what you will about my marriage (it sucked the life out of me, I changed who I was, I lost person I became...) but you know what?  I miss the companionship it afforded me.

So what if he didn't talk to me.  So what if he came home, went to sleep, woke up, and played video games until work time again, at least if I had a random comment to say, he was there to hear it.

No listen to it... he rarely listened to a word I said, but he heard it.  Another pair of ears heard it.

I miss that when I put my foot into something in the kitchen, he was there to eat it.  I may not have gotten a "mmm that's good!" or a "You did a good job!", I may have frequently gotten a "If you add xxxx it would be so much better!" Or a "I could probably did this on the grill better." But dammit I got a comment other than "This is good Mommy!"

Don't get me wrong I love cooking for my kids but some days, I'm pretty sure that I could season dog food just the right way, call it chili and they would lap it up like mana.

My bed is awesome, but I miss being able to turn over and find the warmth of a man there.  Having a chest to lay on and hear another heartbeat.  Listening to him breathe, yeah I did that in the beginning.

I know I frequently blog about being lonely but with each passing year, I find that it gets worse and worse.  I was unfortunately not made to be alone but I lack the social skills to do anything about it.

Maybe I should move to a place that absolutely no one knows me and I can reinvent myself to the person I want to be.

I think I should do that after I get out of school and have the skills to get a job.

Sadly enough, I don't see myself moving until my kids are all out of high school which means another eight years...

I can't do another 8 years alone. I will go absolutely insane.

Why would God build me like this?  Why would he build me to crave human male contact but then deny me the skills and opportunity to attain it?  Why would he remind me every freaking month that I am a female if I was meant to be alone?  And why would he fix my daughter's mouths to ask if I ever plan on getting married again every few weeks. (yes they seriously ask me that very same question every few weeks.)

I think I'm about to enter one of those periods where i moan and weep a lot.  This will not be good.  It will not be fun.

I will bake a lot.  I will drink a lot.

Ugh...

Is forty here yet?  How about death?  Did he RSVP?  Can we send a car to get him here before things really get ugly??

So I had one hell of a dream

And I'm trying to type fast so that the llittle details that are slowly getting fuzzy can come out...

So I watched scandal last night.  Fitz in hanging in a life n death coma right.  That's where the show ended.  That's where my subconscious took over.

So in my dream he died. and there was a huge funeral.  Do not ask me how but I ended up in the limo with Olivia Pope and her man... and the president's pregnant wife....

We were all set to be in the funeral procession and we ended up on a gravel road with trucks coming at us.  Well, we're scared as shit and the trucks kep coming but then we see this naked man running across the road and Olivia gets out to help him and my friend from church, Millz gets out of the drivers seat and here's the kicker... I'm not surprised to see this.  The naked man maybe.  Millz getting out of the drivers seat no Why you ask?  Because she's a secret service agent in my dream.  I mean WTF??

Fuzzy part with the naked man but pregnant presidents wife goes into labor and Millz goes to run down Olivia... in heels.  She comes back with Olivia who takes control of the situation because apparently I am useless (big surprise) we take off.

Take off being the operative word because Millz drove the hell outta that limo.

But when we got back, we had missed the funeral procession.  And the presidents wife wasn't in labor anymore.

So we went shopping.

Where I promptly ran into Snow white and Prince Charming from Once upon a time.  I couldn't get their attention until the presidents wife went into labor again and Snow white had to get her away before the thugs came.  Enter Millz.  Limo goes peeling out.  I am suddenly wearing a white and purple top and no pants.  So where do I go?

That's right!!  Up to the mysterious seedy motel that now replaces the department store!!  Good job you've been paying attention!!

Yeah no.  That's where I meet my neighbors daughter who asks me if the weave job her uncle richard did looked good.  I told her yes and went downstairs to be suddenly in a living room full of guys playing xbox.

There is still no mention of me putting on pants.  Notice that.

So they were just about to look at me when Millz is back in front of me, looking down on me and she's about to say something but it comes out as

"Cause baby, tonight, the Dj got us falling in love again!!"

This is my alarm tone.  Whatever Millz was going to say came out as Usher...

So that's all I remember.  Have no clue what happened to prince charming, the body of the president, or the naked man.  Have no idea if the president's wife had her baby.

Just know that my subconscious was on overdrive last night...

Hmm...

If it takes a village to raise a child, it was about to take that same one to pull me off a child...

This is one of those days where I probably should have gone back to be and even if I didn't sleep, just laid there. First my Chefville was all screwed up and then I had to go to Oakdale for the honor roll ceremony. Seriously I love the school but the kids are always loud, the parents can be worse when they turn out in big numbers and the parking is atrocious because no one really knows how to park even though the lines can probably be seen from space...

But it took one little girl to push me to almost the final frontier. The Final frontier being that I snatched SOMEONE ELSE'S kid up and beat the ish out of her. She was sitting right behind Olivia and seems as though she thought I was looking at her excessively and trying to take pictures of her so whenever I looked that way she made a face, If I raised the camera to catch Olivia, she made a face or a couple of times flipped me off!!

I mean seriously?!?! Even when I told her that the child 

in front of her was my child she didn't stop! So I was there to hear my baby's name called for A/B honor roll, but I didn't get a single picture that I can use of her standing or sitting because the little $)!*&! in back of her wouldn't let me.

So since all the teachers were busy with the ceremony I just left but I called the school and when I asked if there was someone that could reprimand the child, all I got was the receptionist asking, "So what do you want me to do about it?"

I wanted to tell her that I wanted someone to go snatch the spit outta that kids mouth through her neck but instead I told her I would come talk to the principal later.

I need to breathe. I need to breathe, I need coffee, and I think I might need alcohol. IT's five somewhere but you know what I don't even care if it's five nowhere...

I guess you could call this a down period

Since I'm in the south, I might as well put it in a term that people think is fitting of my now home... "I'm fittin ta do what I need to do."

Which in case point means I'm done fighting.  I clearly cannot be who I want to be, so I'm just going to be.  If somewhere down the road the current wants to shape me into something that the rest of the world deems worthy of anything, I guess that's who I'll be.  But for right now, whatever.

I think now that the weather is cooler, I'm going to start walking.  Donna used to say that being alone out there walking helps clear the head.  We'll see.

I can't do this anymore.  I refuse to hurt whats left of my spirit anymore by fighting.

There is no more me left to fight.  There is no more gumption for my spirit to use to back itself up.

There's nothing left.

I was going to make a cake today.  I even bought a Rubbermaid cake saver so that we all could enjoy it.  I don't think I will be making that cake.  As a matter of fact I think I'll set some chicken breasts out to defrost. Baked chicken salad sounds good for dinner.  Maybe I'll grill it.  It's not too cold to use my grill.

I don't know.  I don't care.

I guess good morning to absolutely no one.

.....

Cracking...

The veneer of the smile I keep on my face is cracking.

Every time one of my friends has an anniversary or announces that they're getting married, i can feel it crack a little more.  I'm afraid that one day, it's going to break and fall away and people aren't going to like the sneer that's been hiding underneath.

Don't get me wrong, I am really really happy for my friends.  I am soo happy.

But I'm so jealous.  So jealous that when some announces that they're getting married or that they've been together another year, or even if they're having a baby, I can't breathe.  My lungs shrivels up and my heart stops and my body shuts down for a hot minute.  I want to run off and find an empty field and scream until all the breath that I know is there is gone.  I want to cry until I am as empty physically that I am emotionally.  And then I just want to lay there.  Lay there and wait for whatever.

But I a really am happy for everyone.  So happy.  So unbelievably happy.

So every time I have one of those cracks that everyone can see, people rush forward to tell me that I just have to be patient and wait.  God is going to send the man he's personally designed for me my way soon.  He's going to put him in my path and we're going to lock eyes and my happily ever after is going to finally begin.

Excuse me if I lose my cool and scream obscenities...

I am Christian.  I go to church, I listen to the messages that are preached, I help out and volunteer. I believe. I am a faithful follower.

At least I think I am.  There is no part of my heart that doesn't love God.  And while it should be full with just that and the love of my friends and family, it's so empty that if whats left of my faith in ordinary miracles screamed out, there'd be an echo for days.

When will it be my turn? I just want someone that thinks I'm worthy of his time and not a guy halfway around the world that is basically a stalker.

You know when I first moved here, my mom and I went to this place on Beatties Ford Rd. to get her tires done and the guy that changed the tires flirted his ass off with me and I gave him my phone number.  We chatted a few times, we texted and for maybe a week, I walked around on cloud nine.  I was approaching happy until I realized all he wanted was a booty call.  He suggested our first date be at his house.  He outright admitted that he wanted to be close to his bedroom.

This is the part where I would normally tilt my head to the side and ask, "Do I look like the kind of girl that would be up for a booty call?"

Except I can't say that.  I mean, I can but I can't really.

Last summer after being alone for yet another year I met a guy.  Yes I was piss drunk, but he and I had a conversation.  Or at least I thought it was a conversation.  Whatever it was, it worked on my dulled senses, I fell into bed and dammit I had a hell of a time.  And God help me I made myself available for more than one booty call.  I convinced myself that it was just sex.  That it would be okay, but then we texted everyday.  Most of the day and stupid me I started to let myself get feelings for him.  So imagine how badly I was crushed when I realized that he didn't think I was worth his daylight hours either.

Just like when I realized that no matter how I tired to make my marriage work, my husband still wanted out I realized that no matter what I was stupid enough to let myself feel for this guy was only one sided.  The air left, all sound stopped and I laid down and I cried.  Over him.  A guy that I didn't really know that well but sad to say is still never actually far from my thoughts.

The feeling is all too familiar.  I felt it ALL through high school.  I had crushes on guys and they ignored me.  Or at least they ignored me to my face.  I'm pretty sure they talked about me to their friends.  The sad, fat pathetic band geek that had a crush on the a list guy.  The guy that was the class president my years in high school, yeah I had a big crush on him.  I spent a whole year thinking that he had no clue I liked him.  But yay for him for being able to keep a secret long enough for me to feel really dumb. He signed my yearbook, "Thanks for all the cards."

He's getting married too.  He announced it last year.  Happy for him.

The guy I liked Senior year is probably engaged too.  I've lost track of the guys that I liked my freshman year and the guy that I had a crush on my sophomore year can go to hell in a wicker basket wearing gasoline boxers and hold a box of lit matches.

The guy I liked freshman year of college probably has no clue that had he but beckoned I would have followed him to the ends of the earth.  He fell into the friend category and yanked me into that circle with him and then there was Randy.  Say what you want, it was a miserable marriage in the last few years but when we weren't fighting, it was good.  Sometimes it was good.

I keep trying to have faith and proclaim that this year at midnight on New Years, I'm going to have someone to kiss.  Someone that's not going to give me a pity kiss.  But then another year passes and I have no one.  And while everyone gets to kiss their special someone at midnight, I get to paste on my phony smile and cry on the inside.

So another year is coming to a close.  And the prospects for finding someone at once again slim.  So slim that I think this New Years, I'm not even going to bother.  I'm going to just sit home and have a drink, or maybe take a couple sleeping pills and wake up to a new probably even lonelier year.

I think it's time to give up.  To face the fact that when my marriage failed, I lost my chance at a maybe happiness.  That was the one chance that I was given and that's it.  I'm always going to be the bridesmaid, I'm never again going to be the bride.  Or the girlfriend.  I'm the friend.  I'm the one that gets to smile and hug and say, I'm so happy for you and any other thing I can think of to keep your day happy.

It's time.  I'm done.

The fat sad band geek is done.

..........

So this school supplies thing...

...has much father reaching issues that what it seemed to have...

I just went off on a friend because he told me that one, my problem could be solved with a simple trip to the dollar store and that it was supposedly common knowledge that school supplies are common property and then something about as a parent in todays comminuty it's only a small part of what I can do to make sure today's children grow up to be educated adults.

Brace yourself but here's my shining selfish moment.  I don't really give a rats ass about other parent's children like that.  My children and their needs will always comes before anyone else's children.  Now if a friend came to me and said that they needed my help and could I please help them buy buying a few school supplies that's different.  What am I supposed to say?  Be patient and send your child to school with nothing?  That since it's all community property the community of parents will make sure that the child has it?  No!  I'm going to help my friend and their child out if I can but even then there's a limit to which my generosity extends.  If helping my friend and their child detriments my child and I have to make a choice, believe me, my children will win the coin toss no matter if they were standing under heads or tails.

As long as my children grow up to be educated adults I consider my job accomplished.  I can't honestly think that Mary Sunshine who's kid sits next to my daughter in school is as concerned with my daughter being an educated adult as she is with her own son.

And Yes, I know this speaks to people not supporting each other but WTFever man. 

I come from New Jersey.  I come from a time when the little stuff was provided.  I am NOT talking about pencils and notebook paper. I am talking about Copy paper and tissues.  Exactly how do i know that my copy paper is being used for the class and not for the office to run off coppies of a news letter that maybe three parents out of the school read?  How do I know that the teacher is using the copy paper to run off papers for her class.  I have volunteered in class and I have seen with my own eyes that when a teacher goes in the copy room to make copies of something for her class, they DO NOT pick up a pack of copy paper out of their classroom supply closet, they use whatever paper was in the copier and should the copier run out they go into the big supply closet in the copy room to get more paper.  Anyone can go in that closet.  So I'm supplyig to the whole school not just my childs class.  My helping support my daughters class just jumped to my helping support an entire school.

Damn that makes me feel like the old lady who lived in a shoe that had so many kids she didn't know what to do.

Let me state this one more time: My problem is not that I was asked to provide more tissues.  It is not that I spent seventeen cents on another woman's child.  My issue is that I was told that I had to provide said tissues because other parents didn't.  That I wasn't told that this is what they were doing.  Ask me.  Don't demand.  Inform, don't assume.

If I could afford it, I would homeschool my children.  I would make sure that they become educated adults.  That MY children succeed.  If I had the money, I would give a damn if there was a person I didn't know standing up on the graduation stage with my child.  But I dont' have it like that.  Not very manypeople have it like that.

Say what you want.  Feel the way you want.  But do me a favor, don't tell me what I should do or feel.  That's the quickest way to stir my ire and get me to stop smiling and nodding and tell you exactly how I feel.

School supply wars continued...

So my daughters teacher is at it again. 

Livy came home today and said that instead of two boxes of tissues for the whole class from the three students that originally brought them (She never called me BTW) she went out and bought some tissues on her own and they had already used all of them so now parents are being told to send the kids with their oen personal packs as she will not be buying anymore.

I have so many things to say about that.  For starters, personal packs are what I normally send but like I said before this year I decided to do what they asked and I sent the box.  I knew I shouldn't have.  I should have continued to buck the system and do what the hell I wanted to do.  For the teacher to tell the children that she would not be buying anymore tissues out of her own pocket... well, on one hand I get that she doesn't want to spend her paycheck on tissues all year considering that if this place doesn't get snow it's a hotbead of undying allergies. but on the other hand her demands seem to be being met by the other parents and she seems to think that she can keep making them.

Another burr stuck in my craw is that as per the supplies list, my mother got each of my girls five one subject spiral notbooks.  Now keep in mind that my problem is not the price of the notebooks because they only cost .17 cents each but it would seem that at the first day of school the children were told to put all their notebooks on the table in the back of the room.  The teacher then collected them all and assuming that there are 25 students per class and they each brought 5 notebooks that's 125 notebooks right?  She took all of the notebooks and handed them out at her leisure.  Olivia came home with one that was marked by a smart parent.  He or she had written their son's name in the notebook and I can only assume they wrote it on everything else they bought their son.  The teacher handed out random notebooks which means that if a child came to class with no notebooks, they now have a notebook curtosey of another parent. 

We're back to the tissues thing from a few weeks ago...

I might need to see if Olivia can be moved to another class because this teacher is going to make me show my color before the year is out.

Suddenly, I can't wait to move...

Emotional breakdowns...

I had one this morning at five am while sitting on the loo.  I couldn't find the first piece of the toilet paper.  I am very sorry to report that instead of dealing with the consequences of getting up and turning on the light, I fought with the roll until it won and I cried like a baby.  And then I just ripped my nails across it until I had enough paper to do the job.

It's a quarter to eight and my morning already sucks.  I can't see how staying awake and folding laundry is going to fix the day.  Of course I can't see how blogging to absolutely no one is going to solve anything but at least one of us is laughing. (By that I mean my inner child who this morning sounds like Nelson from the Simpsons.  I'm tempted to remind her that she was right there with me crying this morning.)

Ah well, going to get the dolls off to the daily penitentiary known as school.

Ta!

Backache and Spaghetti...

So this morning,I woke up with a wicked backache.  It's probably because I have a tendency to sleep curled up in a ball during the night and I always wake up feeling like I imagine the old English felt when on the rack just before their spines popped into a million little useless pieces.

So I popped another two arthritis strength asprin and kept it trucking.  Of course it didn't actually kick in till nearly noon so I was behind in today's chores.  I got my bed sheets washed and two of my big blankets.  I didn't get the plaid comforter washed this time but I did get it washed and not my beige one last time so the balance will he there.  I'm going to bed smelling my awesome fabric softener tonight.

I am out of fabric softener and soap.  By out I mean I have maybe one wash left.  I am not happy.  I'm one of those people that actually begin to panic a little when I am without laundry supplies.  I mean what will I do if something really messy happens and I can't wash it away?!?!

Stop laughing at me.  I know you are.  I fired the trained monkey that did tricks so I'm the only laughter target left....

So the re growing mt laundry will have to wait until tomorrow.  And I swear I am going to fold and hang it all tomorrow.  I need to.  Someone please remind me to get my lazy ass up and do the damn clothes...

So I'm going to sit here and finish watching Master Chef.  It's a good show I wish I could cook like they do.

So ciào!!

A very very exhausting day...

I have not had.

Seriously I've done laundry, made bread, and cooked but other than that, not a damn thing.  All in all an awesome day really.

So, my phone has been curiously silent for a couple of days now.  I think I may have fallen off the grid and since I have given up on a certain someone completely I refuse to text him.  I mean, its not like I'm going to get a text in return.  (give me a few weeks and I will have forgotten about the guy ove given up on like he's forgotten about me.)

I must admit that when I made the decision to move on, I had a moment of feeling like I wasn't good enough.  For anyone.  I really hate that feeling.  Like hate hate hate.  The only thing I would hate more would be... Hmmm... I really don't know what I'd hate more hut I hate the feeling.  I mean I see women out Herr that really honestly could, IMHO, be serious contenders for America's Next Top Ghetto Posterchild and they are walking around with itty bitty brand new babies which suggests that either some guy was very very ... VERY drunk recently or someone found them attractive enough to look at them twice. Well, more than look at them but you get what I mean.

I talk well, I don't dress like my cootchie is on fire and I just have to to let it breathe by wearing the shortest skirts possible.  I don't have my blobs hanging out waiting for some hungry infant to come along.  I don't pretend to be thin when I know I am plus sized and despite my serious want for a pair of leather pants.

Yet they have the babies.  They have the men. 

So I tried to sign up for datingincharlotte.com but they have an income minimum that I sadly, do not meet.  Whatever.  I'm not over it, but I am so not going to stress it.  I don't really want to start an online relationship. 

*I was sure had posted this but I guess not.... It's unfinished but there ya go.*

What happened to...

When schools covered at least the basic supplies???

The point of public school was that you didn't have to pay for it, I thought.  Yet in the last few years,between uniforms and supplies, I'm pretty sure I've paid out more than I w  ould if I sent them to a private school.

I mean WTF?!?! When I was a kid the school provided the tissues, (I know because at least once a month a kid had to go down to the nurse to get a box) paper (at least the copy paper they used to make the copies of our work) and sometimes, if the teacher was into the germ fighting thing, hand sanitizer or soap.  My mother didn't have to buy a calculator because the school had them.  She didn't have to buy a compass because the school had them.

Tell you the truth, I'm not so upset about compasses and protectors as I am about the tissues and the hand san and all the other little stuff.

Olivia's teacher, like all teachers now, requested a box of tissues in her list of school supplies this year.  You know what.  I'm used to it so the one is fine.  But then Olivia came home yesterday and told me that her teacher only received three boxes of tissues from three kids and that she turned around and told those three kids that they needed to bring more.

Are you effing kidding me?? This right here is why I am the parent that send individual sided things for their own personal use.  Because when you do the right thing and send the big box that you KNOW is only going to end up in her closet or on her desk for everyone's kid plus her to use, she gets greedy and asks for more.

And copy paper.  Each ream has 500 sheets, right? If there are so kids in each class and each kid brings a ream of copy paper that's what? 1,500 sheets of paper.  I'm sorry but yes, I am the parent that's standing there wondering and counting to make sure that my child has 500 copied pieces of work.

Then there's the schools that change uniform colors every year.  Yeah cause I have the unlimited funds to buy green shirts one year, yellow the next, and blue the year after that.  Hello!! I have three kids!  I can't afford to buy brand new everything every year.  Yeah right now Kayla is using the boys old green shirts from a year and a half ago but they will not fit Olivia nor will they be in any condition to should I want to impose a really big shirt on her.  The only way that the shirts Jovaughn left and Kayla's wearing are going to fit Olivia is if the child has decent sized blobs to fill them out as she has always been my small child. 

Not that it matters because they have to make it through the Kayla year and ten sit for another year.  Yeah, no.  I don't see that happening.

I have no clue why schools have stopped providing the basis necessities for our children bit I'm pretty sure that parents are soon going to revolt and the schools aren't going to have anything in their supply closests because patents Sony send anything.

I'm half tempted to go out and get laptops for them to save on reams of paper and notebooks. 
I don't know what else to do.  Fall into line like all the sheep and do what I'm told and keep supplying the schools that don't always use the supplies we buy for just our kids or start the promised rebellion and put my foot down.

I just know that it posses me off and if I don't start the rebellion, I am damn sure going to join it...

I will not be boycotting...

Prepare your stones and sticks and rotten tomatoes to throw because I'm going to say this outright:

I do not agree with Chick-fil-a.  I think they are a bunch of assholes for this latest more of theirs.

-BUT-

I WILL NOT boycott them.  On average when I go for myself I spend 6-10 dollars when I go with my kids I spend 25-30 dollars.  If I deny them my 10-30 dollars there is going to be another person who believes in punishing innocent gay people who will spend that plus more JUST TO SPITE ME.

So tell me why should I punish myself and deny myself or my kids the chicken sandwich that NO ONE else makes so well to punish a chain that couldn't care less?

Another thing... The founder of the chain was a Southern Baptist minister.  It's why they aren't open on Sundays.  If you didn't know this move was coming you need to just go stand in the corner.  Go on.  The hat is already there.

Sorry, I'm not going to punish myself and my kids for one company's beliefs.  If I did that We wouldn't shop or eat out.

Starbucks supposedly doesn't support the troops.
Target won't support the troops
Chick fil-a is anti Gay

Yeah no, I like all of those and the list keeps growing so no...  won't be boycotting... Sorry...

Kissing...

So I'm sitting here watching Love and Hip Hop: Atlanta and these two are sitting here kissing... I think... I mean I think they are kidding but I ain't never done it like that before.

My experience with kissing is closed mouth and basically a peck.  At times it might have been longer but yeah... that's it.

I'm sitting here thinking that I need to learn how to do this.  I need to learn to kiss like this... I want to learn to kiss like that.

Aside from the general fact that it alternately looks like either trying to resuscitating each other or swallow each other depending on which way your head is turned, it still looks like fun...

Is this a black thing? This kissing like you're trying to swallow your partner or is this a general kissing rule?  I don't think I've ever seen white people kiss like this... I think I need to try this with a man from every race and nationality.

Yes.  I need to explore this live sucking kissing thing...

Importance

You must always remember this...

While your problems seem like they are are more important than everything else, in everyone else's world your problems mean very little.

My therapist said this to me today.  I find that it's very true.  In my world my walls are coming tumbling down and the ground is shaking and all I need is someone to wrap their arms around me and hugs and and hold me until it okay to come out of hiding but to the outside world the fact that I'm not up on a water tower laughing maniacally and shooting innocent people (perhaps in light of the recent tragedy that's kinda insensitive but...) I'm perfectly fine.

It's all in how you look at life. 

I have to wrap my mind around it fully because like said my problems are huge in my world.  And in my world I still need that hug.

The happy side of today though is that I have been taken off my phych meds!  Yea!!!  I have a prescription for one but it's at my discretion to pick it up and take it.  It's an awesome feeling!

Nothing else to report today really.  I have a headache so I'm going to take my meds and hit the hay.

Night!

So today was just another day at Wal-mart...

I didn't go to bed until almost two.  Dunno why but whatever...  When my alarm rang at eight am, I started the dryer to iron my Sunday clothes (yes I do that... Stop giving me that look...) and I promptly hopped my ass back in the bed for another hour.

Not that it did any good cause at nine am I still didn't wanna get up... but I did.

Went to church where T very nearly stole my shoes.  It's cool.  I'm used to it now.  I swear though, I am going to kidnap her and take her to the Avenue one day...

After church I wanted some McDonald's for lunch but my bank account had Wal-Mart in mind... So off we go.  By we I mean me cause I was alone.  Mommy didn't go to church today.

So outside of Wal-Mart there's a guy and he's selling pit bull puppies.  O. M. G. They were the absolute cutest puppies on earth.  I wanted one.  What I did not want to hear was a couple of old women telling the man that those beautiful puppies were mongrels that needed to be drowned because pit bulls are evil dogs.  I had to channel my inner Cindy cause I was about to tell them some things I may or may not have made up in order to shut her up but apparently my channeling powers are slow cause some other woman channeled my Cindy and cusesed those women roundly, squarely, and any other shape you wanna say.

My bad mood was made better once inside however.  I have to say right now that damn it, I looked hot today.  I did the hair, I had on the heels, I was looking like a ten plus twenty and I knew it but I digress... The best feeling is when a man in Walmart gets slapped by his woman because he's looking at you.

So in true Walmart style I was not allowed out of the store without being appalled and forays tale from the ghetto came from a Mexican child who was yelling at the woman holding his hand in the parking lot.  Now the kid could not have been more than ten if he was that.  He was telling the girl/woman to let go of him because she was a dirty cunt.  Oh yes, he said that.  It was at this point that I decided it was time to leave Walmart.

So got to mommy's and sat here and made her dinner... Chopped grilled pork chops smothered in grilled onions, yellow bell peppers and mushrooms.

Now I'm watching the end of The Blind Side.  Love that movie.  Makes me cry everytime.  Pretty soon I'm gonna go on home.

It's been a day.

I need the day to end. 

End the effing week already please...

I'm done.  Not even anti anxiety meds can help right now.

Let's recap shall we...?

Sunday morning I went to my fathers church.  Not only did he not RECOGNIZE me, when he introduced me to everyone after the service, NO ONE knew he even had a daughter.  I cannot begin to elaborate on my feelings with that.  If you know me, then you can imagine my feelings.  I have held it up well but that was the FIRST TIME I wanted to sit in a corner and cry this week.

Monday we drive into the city.  Let's say that my first act in the city was to flip off and honk at an NYPD officer... The rest of the day was awesome.  I even got to go to Coney Island and ride the legend- wait for it- ary Cyclone roller coaster.

Tuesday... Eh that was fine.  Long drive, road rage, tired as hell, hot as hell... Absolutely nothing to complain about except that we were so deep in the country that Google couldn't even find me for foursquare...
Wednesday... Six something in the morning... I hear a muffled thump and a scream.  I was wearing wax earplugs because I was sharing a room with mom and she snores.  Flew out of the bed to find my mother in the floor at the bottom of a flight of stairs.

My heart stopped.  Not quite sure its beating regularly yet.

I am about to fall apart.  I swear I am.  I just want to sit in a corner... Hell anywhere... And sob.  Between my dad not knowing me and people he ministers to not even knowing about me to watching my mother in severe pain for the last thirty six hours I need a huge hug.  Not a brief one either.  More like someone to lay down in the bed with me and hold me.  I don't want sex.  I just want to be held.

I have a feeling that since I'm more than likely not going to get held that this week is going to end with alcohol.  I don't want to drink bit I want the warm comfort.

Sigh, I... I... I have nothing.  I will find strength for my mom, but at the moment I have no damn idea where I'm going to get it from....

Starting new Meds...

Okay so update:  I went to the Psychiatrist today.  After a two hour session, She said that she doesn't think I am bi polar although they have to do more tests.  She thinks I am at the not so bad end of manic Depressive and I have a new med.  Lamictal.  Haven't looked it up but I will start it tonight.  I told her about the television in my head and how I just want it to shut off.  I don't want my story ideas to stop I just want the noise that I can't decipher to stop.  Anyway.  like I said I start tonight.  25mg for the next two weeks, then 50 for two weeks and then 100 for a week and I go back to her.  We will see.  I don't think I have ever taken this one before.  If you all notice anything online let me know because chances are I won't see it as I will be in it.  I have friends who can see me IRL and tell me if there's a change.  Sigh... that's all I got... sigh...

Hmmm..

I want to go on a cruise or go visit another country.  I feel like men from another country might just be a little more appreciative of what I have to offer than American men seem not to be.

I'm trying not to complain about it. I've made vows not to complain about it, but I can't help but do so.  American men are just so... so callous when it comes to women.  They seem to think that its okay for them to ignore someone for months on end and then pick up where they left off and its all good. 

From what I can tell, men from other countries don't have this brain deficit.  They understand that if they fuck up and miss a few steps they have to go back more steps than they missed.  That or they just really appreciate women.

What am I saying?  Hmm I don't know.  I'm still just really lonely.  And I'm tired of being lonely.  I don't want to be the one night stand.  I don't want to be the casual fling.  I want a relationship.

Sigh.  Maybe I am destined to be single and blogging forever. 

On a side note a part if me really wants to try out for the bachelor.  Lol.  They've never have a black in or one that had older kids or so many kids.  I think I would be awesome.  I seriously doubt is get a rose at all but I think it'd be awesome.

Que serà.

Okay, I'm outtie...

Today is...

One of those days where I want to sit in bed and just text people.  I don't know why.

But then, I don't know why I do a lot of things or why a log of days feel like they do.

Sigh.  Short blog.  Bleh.

Yawn...

This morning I am speaking in "yawn".  That is to say every single thing I say sounds like one big whiney yawn.  That my kids are really good at translating this is actually a huge surprise!

They have three weeks left and they seem to want to fill it with fighting.  I realize that we do this dance every year.  We get down to the final weeks before the great swap and things either go really good or really bad.  Considering that these are the boys final days with me I am not making big deals out of a lot of stuff.  He is also not trying so hard for me to kill him.  It's all working out kinda well.

Soon this will be a house full of girls.  Lord help us all.  That's all I'm going to say about that.

I really need to blog more.  I mean I have the app on my phone so I have no excuse.  I'm just lazy as help.  See? I came ul with one!  You love me.

I am super duper tired and I'm not overly sure why.  I was up and down all night long and I don't have a reason.  Eh, its Friday.  It's grey out, I'm going back to sleep.  Not that the two are mutually exclusive.

So blog.  Time for medicine.  Ttyl8r!

I think...

I should start keeping a diary of my last days with my son living in my house.  It might better help me to understand why we have the relationship I think we may end up having one day if I can go back and see all the ways that he slowly and methodically hacked away at the trust between he and I.

For awhile now he's been complaining about his lega hurting him and from the very start I asked him was he sleeping on the couch in his room.  He swore to me no, he wasn't.  Even though I could see the pillow and the blanket on the couch.  I told him whatever and told him his let's hurt because he was sleeping on the couch.  He needed to sleep on his bed.  So now weeks have gone by and his legs still hurt. I was starting to get worried because as I could see he was actually sleeping in his bed.

Or so I thought.  I went up this morning because we are still battling the not showering thing and there he was asleep on the couch.

I am nearing the end of my rope with him.  Randy keeps saying that we'll see how this year goes and maybe he'll come back but honestly, I don't want him back.  I don't want my own son back in my house once I am rid of him.  I have this feeling that once he's out things are going to run soo much smoother that I may be able to find a mental foothold and make the tv in my head stop. 

So now he's in the shower and the girls are doing recon in his room and pulling stuff out.  At the moment they have county thirty if the missing cups in there some with juice.  Potato chip bags and soda cans and bowls.

They also found ten dollars.  I asked him where this came from he said people at school pay him for things like going to get stuff for them like pencils from another room.  Either he's someone's bitch or there's more to this story.  I'm betting its the latter.  One more month...

This is the saddest part if all this has become my new mantra.  One more freaking month.

Ugh!

Today is one of those days where I pretend that it's a good day but in reality I just wanna walk out in the middle of the street and scream FUCK at the top of my lungs for as long and as loud as they will let me.

And here's the kick in the face:  There are way too many effing reasons to pinpoint why!

I mean, there's the usual.  I'm so lonely I could and usually do cry.  I mean on the nightly.  Can't relax myself with a small drink anymore because a small drink relaxes my brain into thinking that it has the right to think about the fact that not one damn person on this godforsaken planet wants me.  And I can have friends who will do the obligatory "You are pretty... No you  are!  Don't feel that way... the right guy will come along and he'll be worth the wait..." bull and it might draw a smile from me for the moment but you know what.  screw the wait.  Would it kill for just one guy to want me now?  Would it be so much to ask the cosmos to send someone, anyone, that finds me attractive enough to want to be with me?? I mean what the hell did I do that was so effed up that I have to be punished for this many years??

And then there's my issues with Kayla.  There is something off there.  I don't want to say something wrong.  It's not wrong, it's off.  I know it is.  And I'm tired of doctors blowing me off.  They have been blowing me off since she was one years old and I'm tired of it.  I get called over concerned.  I get told I'm just trying to medicate my children.  I have even been told that I have munchousin Syndrome.  I mean really?!?  All of this so that they won't simply check her.  Well no more.  They will check her.  They are going to get my baby right.

I finally have a departure date for my kids.  They will be going back with Randy the day after the Graduation at Kayla and Livy's school.  He's flying out for it and he's taking the kids back with him.  So I need to have Jovaughn packed up and ready t leave my house for good by then.  The girls just need to be packed up and ready to be gone for the summer.  Last Summer it wasn't as bad but this summer is going to be bad.  Very bad.  Last Summer I hadn't had male companionship in a long time so not having it then was no big deal to me.  All I wanted was to hang out with my friends and chill.  Then I met him and I had it for the first time in a long time and dammit I don't know if it was the fact that for the first time ever my eyes rolled back in my head on their own own or maybe because of the mere fact that it was it but I miss it.  It's like a kid who grows up not having a lot to eat all their life.  Then they go a few months and they have all they want.  Then they're forced to go back to basically nothing.  That kid is going to do it because they know deep down they can but before they remember that they can survive on barely anything they go damn near crazy first.  That's where I am.  Damn near crazy.

Dealing with my roller coaster moods is driving me crazy.  I mean honestly crazy.  My days of being able to cope with being able to call the shots on whether or not I act on getting up out of bed some days is becoming a real challenge.  The temptation to take one of my bottles of vodka and just numb myself and do whatever floats across my brain some days is way to tempting.  Listening to the voices in my head has become too much of a hassle just like shutting them up has become too much of a hassle.  Blogging to let at least one of them have a voice every now and them is too much.  It's like a effing television that some has turned the volume up to max and hidden the remote.  All the channels are playing loudly and I can't stop it.  I have stories that need to be written shouting their words at me.  I have alternate realities playing out in there to the point where sometimes, I don't know what's real and what fake.  I sometimes wake up and I'm so confused that Im in the bed I'm in because I felt so real and so safe in the dream..  Almost like this was the dream.  All of my doubts are screaming at me from another section.  While the little dwindling part of me that still trying hard to hold on to reality is screaming alternate pleas for help and shouts of something I can't make out.  Then there's my mothers voice.  The one that booms over it all telling me what to do, why I need to do it, when to do it, how to do it, where to do it, what the outcome will be, and the consequences of not doing it will be.  Liquor makes the dull, I find but isn't that the point?  The make them shut up for even a little while?  Of course when they quiet for even a little while, I'm lonely which leads back to the top of my problems.

It's getting to be too much.  And I... I don't know if I can do it much longer. 

And the sad thing is... I think the only place I can admit that out loud, is my blog.

I can honestly say

That for the first time I think I KNOW for a fact that a manic period is about to make an appearance.  If it doesn't, I will be highly surprised.

How can I say that?  Well aside from morning sickness with my pregnancies, today was the first time that being a mother made me physically sick.

Have you ever had a premonition of foreboding?  Something that says to you, do not get up?  I had that this morning.  I knew I should get up at eight, I always get up at eight on Sunday mornings.  Except for the rare Sunday mornings that I'm not going to be going to church I am always up at eight.  This morning when my alarm went off I hit the snooze.  And I kept hitting the snooze until eight thirty.  Something said.  Don't get out of bed.  I really should have listened and told the kids forget it, I will take Omi to church and to forget it.  It probably would a good idea to not go today.  I don't know why but I just had that feeling and from the moment my feet hit the floor this morning, things went from bad to catastrophic.

First off, this kids had been up since six am.  They had to take showers. This is actually nothing new for them.  I could tell that only wash ups had been taken.  Very vigorous wash-ups, but wash ups none the less.  Second.  I got up at eight thirty.  Between seven and then no cleaning of the living room, kitchen, or dining room had been done and no eating of breakfast had been done suggesting that they had not actually gotten up at six like they were supposed to.  Olivia's excuse was that after her shower, she went back to sleep.  Translation.  She just got up.  Period.  They had also not gotten their clothes for church ready.  At ten, eleven, and twelve nearly thirteen years old, by now they already now this is to be done before breakfast, yet they looked at me with blank looks.

With an hour and  half left in the morning before we left, I commenced to getting clothes and doing Olivia's hair.  her hair I had actually planned on doing this morning so there was no hitch.  The clothes took time away from what I wanted to do to her hair so instead of curls she ended up with a stank ponytail.  Straightened, but still a stank little ponytail.

Kayla then informed me that after much banging around in her room she could not find anything to wear with the pink shirt i laid out for her.  I told her to look again.  She said okay and ten minutes later when I found her in the kitchen drinking milk and watching tv I assumed she had found her skirt and put it in the dryer with the other clothes. (I am the mom who uses her dryer as an iron... sue me) I learned long ago not to actually assume anything with my kids fr too long however and actually asked her if she found something and she casually told me no... with a smile!!!!!  A freaking smile!  I kinda cracked a little then.  Told her to get upstairs and keep  looking.  Threatened with the belt.  The boy was sitting on the couch watching cartoons while the living room looked in shambles.  Told him to clean.  HE told me it was clean.  Another crack.  This one I think was the first to reach my brain because all I saw was his sketch book.

Let me explain about the boys sketchbook.  It is full of trains.  Not trains in general.  The number 6 train in New York City.  In perspective.  It's coming.  It's going.  Here it comes.  There it goes.  There it was.  Off in the distance, here it comes.  Always the same train.  Always in perspective.  Drives me insane.  different stops along the line but always the same damn train.  He wants to live with his grandmother.  So not going to happen.  His father is not a bad guy.  Randy is actually a very good guy but only because the good guy that Randy has become is because Randy made himself.  The person that his mother raised... yeah... not very many people like that guy.  That guy is a bit of an ass and a momma's boy.  I'm sorry but he is.  The Randy that exists today, I like him.  Not enough to love him, no but I like him enough to be very good friend with him.  If my boy ever lived with his gram in NYC he would be someone I disliked because she does that to people.  She's is someone I dislike.  My sister in law, I love.  She is awesome.  How she turned out so different I have no idea but... hmmm

Anyway, I saw the sketchbook and threatened to take each page and put it in the garbage disposal.  I'm so tired of the same train in perspective.  I am also tired of their things being left downstairs.  It's bad enough their rooms look like crap, must they leave my downstairs looking the same?  I barely live outside of my room because I can't stand they way they leave my outer rooms looking.  On his way up to his room I asked him if he had everything he needed for church, he said yes.  He clearly said yes. 

So ten to ten rolls around and I say get dressed. Olivia gets dressed.  Kayla gets dressed.  I get dressed.  And we're all waiting.  The boy comes to be at 10:25 with no sock and no shoes and says he can't find his other Sunday shoe.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!  I told him he has five minutes and I quietly sit on the coffee table while he walks around the house looking for the shoe.

Now about a year ago, I built a three shelf bookcase for them to put their shoes in.  Every day/night I say to put their shoes away.  He wears his Sunday shoes one day a week.  you would think, they would would be the easiest to find but no.  Because he wears them to take out the trash, he wears them to go play, he wears them to clean out the garage.  He wears the backs down, he wears them untied, he walks on the sides of them.  He treats them like his tennis shoes.

Ad as I sat on the coffee table, all this mornings little cracks finally came together and shattered the fragile shell that I was just piecing back together after my last manic period with thankfully ended last Thursday.  And I unloaded.  I couldn't stop it. 

I remember what I said, it's not important but bloggers the worst part was I meant every word.  I'm tired of living for them.  I'm tired of being mom.  People tell me every blessed day that being a mother is a gift but at the moment I'm looking for my receipt.  I want to return them and walk out of the store with a brand new vacuum. Living for them, is killing me.  I am so busy buying snacks for them that I have nothing that I like to eat.  So busy buying food for them that I have nothing really tht I like to eat.  If I cook it, they tell me Mmmm it's so good but I open the pantry door and there it is sitting on top of the trash.  They beg me to buy stuff like Oreos and then at the first opportunity they get, they steal them instead of ask for them.  If I tell them they've had enough chicken wings and to save some for tomorrow, I look in the fridge after they've gone to bed and there's significantly more because they're nicked some and taken them up to bed.  They constantly run out of juices because on nights when they are to be having water, they are sneaking into the garage and taking lunch juices instead.  IF I say get a half a cup of water before bed, they fill it up and give me a stupid smile and say oops.  If I say clean your room, they bump and bang and pretend to clean for about thirty minutes and then swear it's clean and go outside.  Or fart around in there all day playing swearing they are cleaning.  They hang no clothes, they fold no clothes.  They lay them on the floor until they have ben walked on and trampled a sufficent amount of time for me to think that they've been worn again and wash them again.  They take my hangers into the great abyss known as th bedroom and then i never see them agsin but god forbid I go buy yet another pack of hangers and they ask for them and i say no.  Then they give me the hang dog look like I am denying the a kidney and walk away.

I can't do this anymore.  I really don't think  can.  Mother hood has no rewards that I can see.  Nothing can be worth the pain that I am going through.  Nothing...

So I've been a reasonable person...

At least in my eyes, I have...

So awhile ago I made the rough, and believe me deep down it was rough, choice to let the kids correspond with Randy's girlfriends mother (I know it sounds like I'm going all hatfield and Mccoy on you, but try to keep up) and you know what, it's going okay.  She may get a big smile on her face when they write but to tell you the truth my kids get excited because they have mail but the smile fades when they find out its from her.  Why?  Because she spends most of the letter telling them what to do and preaching at them.  I mean more than me, my mother, my father the minister and the entire church family combines. in one letter.  When they write her back they dash out like three to six lines and they're happy that they got that much.  Tonight I actually had to make them sit and start writing and they can finish in the morning but they need to make it long.  They don't want to write her and I'm kinda getting sick of the preaching.  It's getting to me now.

Also my best friend/sister's sister is on her perpetual rag again.  Out of respect for Lise, I won't put details here but let's just say that this time her man decided to include me in the body count.  I simply deleted her.  I mean it's facebook for cripes sake.  I don't have to take it so I won't.

Things with the boy are going okay for the moment.  not that I'm looking for the other shoe to go fling across the room.  I'm always on the lookout for that.  For the moment he's watching his p's and q's and realizing that when I said he was gone at the end of the year, he was really gone.  In fact I made him take the glow in the dark stars off his wall.  HE has to do a total clean out of of that room before he leaves and little by little Livy is making him understand that pretty soon it will be HER room.

So that's my life.

Nothing to report on men because one there aren't any and two I made a promise about a week ago that I won't be blogging, facebooking, or tweeting about men because it's a waste of time.

So there ya go!  Ciao Chickadees!!

Love ya!

Morning... why do we have it again??

I'm finding that the only plausible reason for mornings is to remind me that I didn't sleep the night before.

So Monday night Tuesday morning was sorta by choice not to go to bed.  My mom had to catch the 4:50 am bus out of Charlotte and I needed to be at her house by four ish because my mom is one of the few remaining people on this planet that lives by the die hard belief that if you are there any later than thirty minutes to the time that you're actually supposed to be there, you are late.  And then her bus was late loading and apparently late leaving.  Not the best send off.  The point was I didn't go to sleep because the last few days have been sort of an issue with me and sleeping.  The issue being that I don't.  At least not enough to call it sleeping.  It's more like dozing.  And that being the case if I had gone to sleep Monday night I would have slept clean through my alarm to get up and be at Mommy's house.  I know it so I chose to go to sleep.

After the kids got off to school, I did get back in the bed.  I can't honestly say I slept.  The sun was up and although, thankfully no one called me or texted me or was brave enough to ring my bell, but still I basically tossed and turned until I gave up and got up.  That was around one and then I didn't bother to do anything productive until around three.

I really dislike it when my sleep pattern gets screwed three ways from Sunday. (There's a funny saying.  I wonder where it came from.)  It generally takes forever and massive amounts of sleeping type drugs to get it back on track.  And I am increasingly no good until it gets to that point.  My temper is notoriously short (We're talking like THE shortest fuse here.  There is no time to scatter as I can go from pleasant and smiling to throwing things at you in like .01 seconds.) and I'm prone to sit and look at you with a blank expression on my face.  And when I say blank. I really mean blank because the brain goes into safety mode.  So whereas when I give you a blank look on my normal slept through the night days I'm usually thinking about something but on no sleep days there is absolutely nothing behind those eyes.

Last night I couldn't tell you what went wrong.  I took the melatonin and I laid down.  I even threw a Tramadol in there for good measure.  I guess Tramadol really does contain caffeine cause man I tossed and turned and stared at my ceiling for hours.  And then had to get up an hour early because the little one had to be at school before six forty five for her field trip today.

Please don't think I am complaining.  I really am not.  The problem is usually cause by something I did and exaggerated by more things that I do.  When I was married, Randy used to cure these non sleeping streaks by dragging me to bed.  And I do mean that literally.  He would get so sick of me by like day three or four that he would drag me off to bed and well, ensure that I went to sleep.  Sometimes I miss being married.

Sometimes.

And like I said before, it really doesn't help that the meds I take have a sexual appetite side effect.  I mean really?? It's was cute in the beginning, to be hot and bothered and ready to drag some poor male into my room and not let him out for a day or so but now it's like... that's just it... I can't come up with a colorful description of what it's like.  I'm effing horny and lemme tell you when you have no one to help you with that problem and you have tried to solve it yourself, it's not a pretty feeling.  Come to think of it, knowing my female friends out there, I'm pretty sure you know exactly the feeling I'm talking about.

My house is making funny sounds.  It usually does when I'm here by myself or up by myself.  I seem to be the only one who ever hears these noises.  LIke I can not touch the dresser my television sits on all day.  And no matter what when I go to bed, it always has to creak and groan.  My mom calls them settling noises.  Like the house is settling down for the night.  Tell me, what did the house do all day that it has to settle in for the night?  As much running as I do some days, shouldn't I be the one groaning and creaking?

Spring has definitely sprung here in Charlotte.  My nose has confirmed this by affixing itself in the run position. I have gone through more tissues than ever this past few weeks.  As for the crap in my lungs, that's still there.  Nearly impossible to cough up but it still feels free to choke the living crap out of me when I get to talking.  Or driving.  Lately, it has decided to creep up on me when I'm driving.  Usually on particularly curvy roads.  It has however decided to make a strategic retreat this morning.  Possibly because I have a doctors appointment and we all know you can suffer from something until you feel like you are nearly dead.  The day of your doctor's appointment arrives and suddenly you feel freaking better.

So I need to go straighten my hair.  If I'm lucky enough the coughing will stay at bay while I have hot instruments of female torture in my hands.  Although I don't think so because the cough and crap sensed I was talking about it and it has made a glorious show of strangling me to the point that it took me about ten minutes to type that last bit.

It is going to be a good day.  I am not going to kill anyone today.  I am not even going to attempt to kill anyone today.  Nor am I going to think about killing anyone today.  Today is a good day.  I have now been to the school twice today as I had to take a pause and drive the little girl next door to school.  She missed the bus.  Again.  Poor child.  I treat both her and her brother like they are my own.  I guess that's why my neighbor, their grandmother trusts me with them.  Women usually trust me with their kids.  I treat just about all kids like they are my own.  Dunno if that's a good thing or bad.  I think I got it from my mom.  Every kid she taught was her kid.  I think I had a revolving door of siblings growing up and my mom treated us all the same. If they acted up in her class, she gave them that blank look that screams "I'm waiting for you to act human again." and if they were sick, she treated them as if they were fragile eggs.  Just like me.

So sigh...  Time to go try to put an official start on my day.  See you all later!

Blogging from Church

Shame on me.

Lol, not really. I'm here for the kids practice and mommy took the car so I'm here. It's not so bad. I'm holed up the stairwell where no one can see me but I can hear EVERYTHING. And to boot I am keeping up my bad girl side by pirating the church's wifi. Crap signal but it gets the job done.

So I basically have very little to talk about tonight. I mean I had a really good day but still not anything blog worthy.

I made bread today. I took the sun nut bread recipie and added crushed almonds to it. Apparently it came out good cause the kids fairly attacked it. Hehe. Even Mommy says she wants a piece of it. We'll see.

But basically I have been playing rock band all afternoon. I went back to sleep this morning as usual, but I hadn't taken my night meds save the melatonin last might aid interestingly enough, I didn't sleep till twelve. Only ten thirty and I was fine. I even manged to get some laundry done between songs.

I rock.

No seriously I do cause of rock band three. Hehe. That game is seriously awesome.  I need more people to get xbox live and the game so we can play.

I am so about the freak the teenage girls out by appearing out of the stairwell.  Like I said its the perfect hiding place.  No one ever knows I am here.

I mean... Uh... I never hide here... Never... Esspecially not during church... *whistles and walks away*

So yeah, there's tonights blog.  Cause you best believe when I get home I'm going right back to Rock band. Numb hand and all.

Toodles.  Love and hugs.  See ya!

I do a lot of sighing...

You may or may not have noticed that my blog is now private.  Only people that I have given permission to can come in a read.  This is because I have finally decided that not everyone needs to know all about me.  And those that I make the mistake of thinking are my friends are sometimes kamikaze soldiers in disguise.  Case in Point my ex friend Michelle.

She is the one that told me flat out that I deserve everything I am going through with my son.  NO more will be said.

As for the boy, I am having another ripple in my serenity pond with him.

I did a random book bag search on him yesterday morning.  I found that he was trying to take his sketch books to school as well as a pink DS.  Why can't we stop taking rides on the Nintendo sponsored merry go round??  Long story short, he claims it belongs to his friend Joaquim.  Said friend came to the door today and I asked him why he would have a pink DS?  HE responded that it's his cousin's.  Of course he looked to the left and stuttered making me think back to Psychology 101.  I believe he's lying.  The again, I'm kinda apt to not believe any male right now.  I also asked him how long ago he gave it to Jovaughn.  He stuttered, looked at Jovaughn and scrunched up his face saying about... last Tuesday.  The girls said he had a pink DS last month and said he had had one for awhile now.

So I tripped the boy up and told him that I am only going to give it to his parents and he needs to bring his mother or father to my door to get the DS back.  If he doesn't bring his parent back to me, I will know that Jovaughn cooked up this story to get me to give the DS to his friend so he could get it back.  I am not as stupid as he thinks I am.

His father was supposed to call last night.  As much as I say Randy and I don't get along, he really is one of the few males in my life that can keep me from flying off my proverbial handle.  He knows what to do and say every time and when he doesn't he lets me rant.  After the rant he has a general idea of what to say and he says it.  When he didn't call last night there was no buffer between the boy and I.  With no buffer, the boy said something and walked around like he was the one that had the right to be hurt and I snapped.

And then I cried.  And then I snapped again.

I wanted to take a slow walk into the middle of the highway that runs not too far from my house.  I just felt bad and as usual I asked for help on my facebook.  I said and I quote "I need a reason NOT to get drunk tonight." and not one person said a word for hours until Shawna.  She texted me back down to where I could at least touch my feet to the ground.  And as of last night, I honest to God Thank GOD for her.  Because I honestly would have done something very drastic last night.  I was feeling just that bad.

You probably didn't notice but I took a little bit of a break there.  I was actually gone for like four hours.  Mom nd I are taking a sign language class at the church up the road from me.  Well actually I should say the Big church.  Everyone in the area would know that I mean Friendship.  They freaking take up both sides of the road.  They have the little church on one side, (And the little church is bigger than the medium sized church I go to now.) and the BIG church which just for reference you can see from the highway from at least two miles away on a clear day...  Yeah it's that big.  Their chor practices in a room that's so freaking huge I'm pretty sure Jay-Z would walk in and go "Damnnnnn!!!" Well he might not say Damn cause after all, it is a church.

I got back and my guitar and game had gotten here.  I love the UPS man now.  He doesn't know it, but I love him.  I also love Amazon.  Amazon rocks.  Amazon could be my bosom buddy that gives me a kidney.  Yeah, it's like that.

So at the moment, I am going to go immerse myself in Rock band.  IF you don't hear from me for a few days that's why but I can still be reached by text.

Love and hugs guys.  Hope you all have happy dreams. 

This is going to be short...

because it's 12:30 in the morning and I have to be up at seven.  Church. So there have been a few ups and downs, this week. Up: I blogged about Andrea and got it off my mind and actually felt better because I had put my anger and hurt in my blog and not sent her the eff you kind of email that was quite literally on my fingertips. Down: She saw the angry/hurt blog (Seriously who knew she still read my blog? She hadn't talked to me in months) And of course, she took it about six different directions of wrong, I guess. Maybe she didn't. I don't know. Quite honestly, I am not sure I care. As far as I'm concerned, like I said, the fact that she didn't even give me as much as a courtesy text that she was pregnant spoke volumes. What I heard was "I don't consider you a friend anymore" So que sera. Whatever, I responded to the comment she left and left it alone. Up that's not really an Up but rather a pretty heinous down: I went looking for a high school friend that up until I checked last week we were friends and sent her a facebook message asking how we had become unfriended and said that if she did it for a reason I wouldn't ask to be her friend again. She approved me and then unfriended me the very next day and wrote me "It doesn't really matter now does it" in response to the message I sent her when I sent the friend request. So of course stupid stupid me was curious as to what happened. The really crappy down: She responded and told me flat out that she didn't respect me as a person. Not that I know what that was about but again stupid me asked and what followed thatwas she didn't like the stuff I say about my mother, my kids, and her. First off, I need to go looking back at like everything I've ever written because I don't remember writing anything bad about my mother. Whatever, and yeah, I say things about my kids but I'm usually only expressing my angst about the things they do and my parenting skills. As for what I say about her, I don't think I have EVERsaid her name in my blog and never had anything but good to say about her. Personally I think she's reaching for reasons for us not to be friends. When she was going through a bad relationship when I was I college, she basically gave me the brush off with an email punch in the gut and years later blamed it on she was in a bad situation and took it out on her friends. She ensured the punch in the gut again this time when she flat out said that she thinks the problems I am having with my son are my fault. Yeah, sucker punch me one shame on you, sucker punch me twice shame on me. I will not make the same mistake a third time. Rot in hell and burn slowly. She said I talked about her, there you go. I officially said something bad about her. I wish her well in life but when she leaves this earth I wish her nothing but pain and torment. Any hurt that she caused anybody on this earth, I hope that their pain fuels the fire she burns in. Not very adult of me I know. In fact I'm pretty sure that might qualify me for the kindergarten hall of shame but a little bit of me wants to be petty for even just a moment in time and you know what, this is kinda an open blog so she may troll and see that. I don't care. Sucker punches in the gut like the one she gave me don't get to be forgiven. Ever. Up: My bills are being paid off little by little. Down: I don't have any spending cash but it's not really a down because hell I am going to be debt free soon. Up: I'm sorting out my personal life. I am thinking before I make my choices. and then even before I'm making those choices I'm thinking again. Down: I usually talk myself out of doing something before I can get to the choice but hey if I can talk myself out of it I didn't need it, right? And that's kinda it. I think. It's late. It's like one am now and I'm about finished with my drink so I'm going to go to bed. Oh and a side note I'm still taking my med. I'm controlling the urge to go out and grab the first man I see and do things that would get me locked up. Happy and floating on cloud nine but locked up on cloud nine. I'm also managing the sleeping thing. I find that it's about having the will power. When I got Andrea off my mind I started to sleep at night and not need to be asleep all day. So it was stress over the crap in my life that was making me feel that I needed to crawl into bed and sleep for another four hours after the kids went to school. I still go back to sleep some days but not for four hours. Maybe only two and then I'm good. My attitude is definitely better. I blog and I'm done. It's out of my head and gone from my subconscious. It's still not controlling my headaches like it's supposed to but I'm going to give the stress free life a try and see if that was hindering the meds from working. I am going to live a stress free life. If people around me want to act high school, they can and I will just walk away. If they wanna sucker punch me, they can. I'll get over it. Guys can text me or not text me, I'll go on breathing. The world will keep on spinning and I will keep on typing. It's all good. Life is life. If you spend it working hard to make it go the way you want it, you're going to wake up old and tired because you have spent your whole life trying to change the course of the ocean by digging new rivers with a baby spoon. So yeah. Oh! I have figured out my Halloween costume this year, but more on that later! Ta! Dette

So help me...

...because I am confused...

So I posted a blog the other day about being hurt by a friend.  It's normal for me to post a blog when I'm thinking about something and need for it to get off my mind.  Usually the blogs are about people in my life and I choose to write here on my blog because in my mind it's better than posting it on Facebook for all to see or taking out a page in the daily news for even more people to see.  At least this is my reckoning... I might be wrong.  Who knows.

Well it seems that the person that the last blog was aimed at actually does, or rather did,(I'm not entirely sure) read my blog.  How often I don't know.  I mean if you had been a regular reader she would have known that her act of unfriendship hurt me way before it got to this point.  If she had been a regular reader, she would have seen that I hit a very low point last year and needed help.  But then if she had been a regular reader and didn't bother to even post a keep your head up comment then that would be another act of unfriendship.  Do you know what I mean?  It's like no matter which way I turn, she was either not being a friend because she knew that I was hurting and still did nothing or not reading and still didn't bother to even text me when she found out she was pregnant.  Something I would have been over the moon to hear since the last time was in NJ she was taking pre-natals because they were trying.

Where was I?  Oh yeah, she apparently does or did read my blog because she responded by telling me that I was as usual (I kinda need clarification on that but whatever) wrong and not to contact her.

I really don't think she read the whole blog because I haven't tried to contact her.  I spent a month looking at her info page because I was blocked from everything else.  Then I put a Random hello Thinking about you or some piss on her wall to see if she would even respond.  I then waited a week and when it finally sunk in that she wasn't going to respond and that she didn't care I deleted her and I have never tried to contact her again.

Although now that I think of it, I think she might have been one of the people that got the mass Happy Thanksgiving text.  Not sure.  I know I didn't make the mistake of looping her into the Merry Christmas or Happy New year or Happy Valentines day text. *Shrugs*

But I never tried to contact her.  At least not after that very impersonal Thanksgiving text.  And yes I admit it was very impersonal but it was the quickest way to wish every one of my contacts a happy turkey day.  I don't try to be personal in stuff like that.

I am honest to God confused at how she was hurt at my blog.  Had it been written about me by someone I would have at least tried to explain why I cut them out of my life like a cancerous tumor that was infecting my whole body.  Hmm... Maybe it was analogies like that which might have pissed her off... Did I put any of those in there?  Lemme check...

Hmm. maybe it was when I played the race card.  For that I apologize kinda.  Not that she'll ever see this but still I kinda apologize because It was sorta unfair.  I never came to her face to face with my concerns that I was just the token black friend.  So how could she know?  I never came to her and told her how on her wedding day her son made me cry because he said something to the effect of Black people always copying each other and so do monkeys and all black people were monkeys or something like that.  The whole family laughed because well I guess to them it was funny and I was expected to see the humor in a child's statement but I didn't and it hurt, but I wasn't going to ruin her wedding day with it.  I never came right out and told her that 90% of the people she introduced me to as her friends treated me like a canker sore.  And that one of the couples in particular saw me in Target one day and upon seeing me whispered to each other pointed at me and promptly turned the other direction.  No... Friend's don't point out stuff like that.

I also never stepped up and told her that her basically forgetting about me hurt.  But then what friend does?  How do you approach someone and say to them, you are treating me like I don't exist and it hurts?  And don't say that's how you tell them.  I want to know which of any of my readers would go to their best friend of 22 years and say that.  No, you would just wait one more day for them to remember that you are on the same planet.  And then another.  And another.  And another until the days roll past and before you know it, five months has rolled past and you find out something that hurts you so bad it's very nearly physical.

But I digress.  That's only my feelings.  Apparently I was very off on how I felt.

Sigh... It's whatever.  I'm still confused but I guess I am terminally to stay that way.