Good for me…

I don’t necessarily think this is a sign of aging, but maybe just a sign of good sense. And you always hear “young and dumb” so perhaps there is more truth to this than I initially thought. Either way, this shit is legit!

At some point in your life, you have to really take stock of what you have and who’s around you, and decide if it’s right for you and your soul. And if they are not, it is time to let them the fuck go.

Hanging on to someone who makes you sad, hurts your feelings, makes you feel hard to love, and is totally fair-weather, and generally brings nothing good to the table is incredibly stupid… so why? I can’t tell you how many times, just in the last few months, where I have felt like someones fair-weather friend. Not in the sense that I am fair-weather, but that is who I am to them. I even texted my husband the other day and said “I don’t feel like I am good enough [for blank] anymore” and let me tell you, as a grown ass adult, this shit is still super real, and still super shitty. It is not to say I am not good enough, but it is a bit sad when that kind of realization and feeling hits you.

I know that friends come and go, I know that you grow and get busy, I understand all of that. But when people don’t make time for you anymore, it is no longer a matter of being busy, at that point, it is making a choice to no longer make time. People get busy, people have lives, bla bla bla. But when the months tick by, and the time between texts, calls, visits begins to extend to greater and greater spans of time, that is drifting my friends, that is not busy. And it is devastating when that shit happens.

And this all made me sad. Made me feel like I had a rock on my chest. I don’t like feeling like I am not good enough. It is no longer making me happy to keep this person around, it is no longer making me smile or feel loved and wanted… and truth be told, I am kind of over it. I am over feeling like I am not good enough, that I don’t look good enough, that I don’t make enough money, that I don’t have a nice enough house, that my sons sickness is annoying to hear about, that my sickness is annoying to hear about, that I no longer fit in this persons life or future. I am just over it. It doesn’t make me happy, and it hurts my soul.

I just want good people in my corner. My life is finally mellowing out and going in a good direction. I am happy. I am going somewhere with my life that I am happy about. I am no longer a swirling hurricane of shit and disaster. And I want good people behind me, and beside me. I want someone who asks me how I am. I want someone who talks to me about my plans, and how things are going. I want someone to tell me they are proud of me. I want someone who loves my kids and is excited to watch them grow up. I just want someone who wants me to be in their circle and who is happy I am there. I just want….. someone.

Guess I am just getting to the point in my life where I expect the people in my life to be good for me, good to me, and good for my soul. That isn’t too fucking much to ask, is it?




Alone or just lonely.. 

I read this article the other day that struck a chord with me a little. Lately, I have felt like I was invisible. Why? I could be in a room full of people, and still feel all alone. Like I could leave, and no one would notice or care. I used to be an extrovert – I fed off of other peoples energy and felt sad when I was alone for long periods of time, and I was very outgoing. But now, I feel like I have slowly drifted into being an anxious introvert. I don’t really know when this shift happened, but it fucking did.

It can be really exhausting. I don’t like this feeling, but how do I make it go away? I am inclined to blame my thyroid. I would like to think that it is the culprit to my mental shitshow. But what if it isn’t? I don’t like constantly questioning the intentions and loyalty of not only my friends (like, my best friends who are always there for me) but also my husband. Not only do I not deserve to have these awful questions in my head about these wonderful people, but they don’t deserve it, either.

But how do I make it go away, when my invisibility cloak is suffocating me?

I get flashes of my old badass self – the girl who was outspoken, outgoing, determined, happy. So it gives me hope that one day I will return to that, and it will no longer just be my alter-ego and a distant memory. But holy fuck, I wish that “one day” was sooner rather than later. I am not sure my poor heart can take much more of this loneliness and wondering, as unjustified as it may or may not be. 

This article, it was about high functioning anxiety, and what a shitshow it can be in your own head. Here is the article; I have left the authors name for credit. NOTE: I DID NOT WRITE THIS NEXT PART!!!! It just kind of spoke to me, and put a voice to my weird inner shit. I can’t stress enough how legit and accurate this is, as sad as it makes me to admit.

This piece was written by Kirsten Corley, author of “But Before You Leave

Your best friend. Your boyfriend. Your family (if they had a choice.)

Because this thing you didn’t choose is trying to convince you that all of who you are is defined by one word. Anxiety.

It’s one wrong text message.

One tone you didn’t even mean to speak in.

Another night out of things you only half remember with a help of a drink too many.

One conversation you wonder if you told too much.

It’s a text unanswered that sends your mind wandering.

And a call that goes right to voicemail.

It’s a second text to clarify.

Just hoping they will answer.

Even though you know you should have waited.

It’s looking at your best friend of a decade plus and doubting them.

Not for anything they did but for something you haven’t even done yet.

Self-doubt. Questioning. Analyzing. Overthinking.

It’s the waiting for people to leave.

It’s ruining something before it even begins.

It’s goodbye without the word that becomes an expectation.

It’s the nights that keep you up tossing and turning.

It’s not hearing from someone for a while and thinking they are mad.

Even though realistically they have no reason to be.

It’s an apology you don’t have to say, yet you feel you need to.

Just to ease your mind.

People ask about enemies and the only one you’ve known is yourself.

Trapped inside your mind that keeps you prisoner.2

Pushing people away who you want to stay.

But you don’t want to burden or bother them with a problem that’s your own.

It’s the want and need to just hear words, “It’s OK.”

That confidence boost that will shift everything.

You feel guilty even asking.

But you want to just hear that they won’t go.

Because when your mind plays tricks on you and tells you everyone you care about will leave you, you don’t want to believe it.

But part of you does.

You didn’t choose this so why would anyone want to choose you?

That’s the voice you hear on repeat.

And you don’t want to come across as clingy but you care.

You care too much and think too little.

You love too hard but everything about you is soft.

You try and overcompensate just to give them a reason to stay.

But what you don’t believe is they are choosing to be here because they want to be.

Because you aren’t as bad and intolerable and unlovable as you think you are10.

Anxiety is just trying to trick you into believing you are all these things.

But if you look around for just a moment you’ll realize the people who matter haven’t gone anywhere.

Badass Bandaids.. 

I have written about this before, a few times. I think bandaids are fucking amazing. The little cartoon ones are pretty badass, and the designs on them nowadays are beyond fun. What is the point of a bandaid? To cover a wound and help you heal by keeping the shit out. Pretty straightforward, right? 

But, I think that some people can be bandaids, too. I have a handful of them in my life. You know who my strongest bandaid is? My husband. He came in to my life when I was a fucking pile of rubble on the floor, and slowly, together, we have put me back together. I’m different now – I put myself back together how I always should have been. And he has been the glue, tape and bandaids that’s held all the pieces together and kept the shit out. He’s fucking amazing and I don’t know what I would do without him. 

I also have some friends who are my like my doc mcstuffins bandaids. Sure, they were there through the demise and rebirth of me, but they weren’t the architects behind the restructure – they were the ones who kept me smiling and made sure my head stayed above water and screwed on straight. Plus, they’re fucking cute.. just like doc mcstuffins haha. They held my hand, lent me their shoulders, gave me their ears for hours upon hours, heard more of the nitty gritty than anyone should be privy to, and they’re still there, holding certain pieces together. Serious angels on earth and I wild be lost without them. 

I was just listening to this song, and something clicked (another topic that I frequently write about).

“I will be right by your side. 

If I can’t find the cure, 

I’ll fix you with my love

No matter what you know, 

I’ll fix you with my love

And if you say you’re okay

I’m gonna heal you anyway

Promise I’ll always be there

Promise I’ll be the cure”

Sounds like a cheesy love song, and maybe it is (Lady Gaga, by the way) but to me, it’s more than that. At its core, it’s about being there for someone and sticking by them for the long haul. And that’s what my bandaids are. I may not need them as much as I used to, for the reasons I used to, anyway… but where are they? Still stuck right to me. None of them could fix me, but they stood by me while I put the pieces back together, they helped where they could, and now, no matter where I go, they’re there. They helped me rebuild, and they’re written in all of what I am now. 

I’m not all better. I don’t think I ever will be. Once rocked that hard, I think it’s always natural to be forever shaky. But I’m doing ok. 

I have some more healing to do, but I know that I have them all behind me. And I think I’m ok with how far I still have to go. They know me and they love me, regardless of the cracks and bandaids and disheveled imperfect perfection. 

How does it go? I’m stuck on bandaids cuz bandaids stuck on me. And I’ll take these crazy ass people with me everywhere I go, with a big fucking smile on my face and a shit-ton of peace in my heart. 

Because of them. My badass bandaids. 

With everything they have..

I think we can all agree, people are different. And I don’t necessarily mean in a “wow, she has multiple screws loose” kind of different, but different in the fact that we are all fucked in our own special way.

Yes. Fucked. I said it. You know why? Because normal is just an enigma, and it is one that far too many strive for, when they/we should just accept our screwballiness and totally rage in the face of insanity.

Moving on..

When people find other people who fit into their particular funny shaped opening (don’t be a pervert) it is a special moment. And it is one that you should revel in. Make shirts. Throw a party. Crack those obnoxiously messy new years thingys. Do it. You know you want to.

Whether it comes in the form or a friend, or someone who is more than a friend, hold on tight. There is so much ugly in the world, it is amazing to find something that brightens and improves your life.

Friends are so great – they are the family you got to choose. I have some people who I’ve added to my family, and I feel so lucky to have them in my life. And some great family. And then there’s my husband. Damnit, he is my person. My everything. My forever.

(yes this is all leading somewhere)

This is why I get so SHOCKED that people just chuck other people away because they don’t feel like they love them enough. WHAT?!

I’ve heard of the most absurd breakups. One time, I heard a story from my friend, about some girl she knew who broke up her very long term relationship because her live-in boyfriend didn’t fluff the throw cushions properly, or put the cap back on the toothpaste efficiently. Holy shit. Remember when I said people were fucked? Yep. Case and point!

People, just because someone doesn’t love you in the way you feel you should be, doesn’t mean they aren’t loving you in the only way they know, or with everything that they’ve got.

My friends are busy and have their own lives. Do I fault them for not replying to texts in a timely fashion, of which I deem acceptable? No. They are great and amazing people, and they will get back to me when they can. I never expected to be a higher priority than their job, or spouse, or kids!

My husband doesn’t clean the way I do, or obsess over absurd shit like I do. Do I fault him for not being the same Type A lunatic that I am, or doing things the way I do, or expect him to? Fuck no! He is who he is, and he is who I fell in love with. I didn’t fall in love with him because he could fluff a mean pillow, or he perfectly organized the pantry.. I already did that shit, so I feel like if we both did, there would be a power struggle. So this works.

They love me. They love me in the way that they can, in the capacity that they can, in their own special and fucked up way.

Just because someone doesn’t love you the way you think they should, doesn’t make it wrong. We are all fucked, just try and find the people who are the same level of fuckiness as you, and hold on with both hands.

Friends forever…

Forever? Or until something else better comes along? Or until life gets in the way? Or for really forever?

Friendship really is a strange concept, isn’t it? One day you are just walking around and then you see this other person and you say “hey. I like you. You are mine now”. And you just sort of adopt them into your inner circle and start including them in your life. So strange. You don’t know this person at all, but you consider them close enough to share drinks with (gross.. slobber is straight-up grody), share clothes with, share secrets with, share your life with. Admit it, it is SO STRANGE!

But think about it.. how lonely would life be if you didn’t have friends? How lonely would life be if you had no one to text all day long, hang out with at nights and on the weekend, to do trips and holidays with, to confide in, to bawl uncontrollably when life craps on you, to laugh with, to ask for opinions and advice, or to stand with you while you get married. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like some boring and lonely shit to me!

Good thing we have friends, hey? Yes. Having friends is a blessing, but it could also be seen as a curse. You get attached, you give a part of yourself to these people, you let them in, let down the walls, and show them who you really are. So what does that do to you when/if you lose them? Right. It destroys you. It is almost worse than a breakup, because when you breakup with someone, who do you call? Right! YOUR FRIENDS! So when you “breakup” with your friends, what do you do? You cry into your wine and then get pissed off because you’ve now watered down your last bottle of vino. It is a truly shitty deal, dude.

I am not saying that all friendships end in wasted wine, but not everything lasts forever. Sure, there are those blessed and magical friendships that can span even the largest spaces in time… but for the most part, people change, situations change, life changes.. shit happens. It is just the way that life can ebb and flow. And sometimes that ebb and flow lands you in a wave without a life vest. It sucks, but it is true. It hurts like a son of a bitch when you open up your heart and then watch that one character in your story slowly get written out. Pain, anguish and vats of salty watered down sauvignon blanc.

I know that popular saying says “thanks for the memories” but I really hate that. I have a very very very good memory, which often means a lot of unnecessary pain. I remember things that people have long forgotten about, I remember situations and how I felt, and how people have made me feel… and when I lose that, it stings, as it does with anyone. Somedays I wish my memory was less fantastic, but then I suppose I would miss my memory and all that it allowed me to hold on to.

I know I have written about friends before, but that post was an ode to the shitbaskets. I guess this post is more of a tribute to the good ones that may not necessarily be everyday participants in my circus anymore. I know there are a certain few who will always be there, in the background, and I take solace in that fact. But it doesn’t make it sting any less when I think back on how constant they used to be and no longer are. That’s not to say I blame them or hold a grudge… Just miss them and what used to be. It is always a shock to the system when you have a shift from constant to background, even if the shift happened slowly… slow or not, that shit shocks and stings.

Life changes, people change, situations change, nothing stays the same forever… There are a few certain people I want to stand on a rooftop and scream this to, with my tear saturated wine in hand: I will always have a space in my heart for you, you will always be a huge part of my history and a part of my happily ever after… I love and miss you…. and just like the stars, even though you may not always be able to see me, I am always there, just trying to make life a little bit more bright and sparkly for you.

Defective? Or sucky?

Yesterday, I found myself pondering.. damn you sickness, do you see what you made me do? You made me ponder! When I am left to my own devices, and allowed to wander the dark recesses of my own brain, horrific terrors are usually emerge. Yesterday’s theme was “am I defective? or just sucky? why does everyone leave?” and from there, it spiraled. I frequently feel like “the girl that everyone remembers, but is easily forgotten” and that is a sad and lonely way to feel.

I thought back on a few of the larger losses in my life (people who chose to leave, not people who passed away.. I didn’t go that dark) I came up with a top 10 list of the more memorable (and sad, confusing, befuddling or down right douchey ones)

  1. the sisters. I would like to preface this with my total and utter disdain for vapid, shallow, self-involved fake bleach hair bitches. These two, I had been friends with since grade four. FOUR! That is a long time when you are 20 years old. Why did they decide to unfriend me? Their words? “you are just the wrong body type” THANKS! Nothing boosts your ego more than people telling you you look the wrong way when you are a measly 110 pounds. Apparently that extra 4 pounds I weighed more than them made me unsavory. Oh, and I am pretty sure it was also because my hair was brown.
  2. the dude from high school. He decided I was no longer worth being friends with because I was “squishy” in my mid-section. Another boost to the ego.
  3. the people who decided I was no longer worth being friends with because I got a divorce. Thanks. May you rot in hell, you hypocritical douche-monkeys.
  4. the girl with the big truck. She helped me stay sane during my divorce, and spent one night a week with me, just so I wasn’t lonely.. who phoned me one night, drunk off her ass, and told me she had just hooked up with some dude I BRIEFLY saw (like, so briefly, it lasted only a couple hours.. that is a funny story, but one for another day) which also meant she had cheated on her boyfriend. She didn’t ever call me again after that.
  5. the girl from high school. Friends since grade 10. Went through all sorts of crap together. Pretty close. Had a couple crazy fun weekends (one of which I was roofied and dragged into some strange persons car, pulled out by some other dude, and apparently rode in a stretch hummer? I have no recollection of any of this, but this is what I was told happened..) attended her wedding… then one day she texts me and says “I unfriended you on facebook. You are just too negative to be friends with now. See ya”. She did this while I was in Mexico on a family vacation, and hadn’t spoken to her in over a month at that point. WTF.
  6. the girl who tried buying my friendship. We had been friends since 2005. Talked all the time. Hung out lots. She was someone I leaned on heavily during my hardest times, and vice versa. She was a very good friend to me. When I was single, sad and alone, she texted me every night, because she knew that my saddest thing was having no one to say good night to. She started getting distant and apologized, once even offering to buy me things to make up for being MIA. “I am gonna be around anyway, you might as well get something out of it” to which I replied “being my friend is all I want”. And one day we were friends, and the next, she removed me on facebook and hasn’t responded to a text I have sent, since. 8 years of friendship, and no reason why it ended.
  7. the girl with the asshole husband. I am pretty sure he decided that we weren’t to be friends anymore.. Cuz there was no other logical explanation.
  8. the here-when-it’s-convenient-for-me-only girl. Really no need to delve into that one.. it is pretty self-explanatory. Pretty sure I just didn’t properly fit into her world anymore, and it was just easier to only pop in and out of my life when she had nothing else going on.
  9. the self involved selfie taker. We were good friends, our kids were friends, we had a lot in common and talked all the time. Then one day, after we had hung out, she decided that I didn’t fit in her life anymore, and that was that.
  10. the best friend since grade 7. What can I say about this one? She was my best friend. We grew up together. We leaned on eachother. We were a huge part of eachothers lives. I loved the crap out of her. She was my person for the longest time. We had coffee two days before I moved away from the town where we were both living, and everything was fine. I hugged her goodbye, we vowed to stay in touch, and shed a few tears as we walked to our vehicles. I tried texting after that, but never got a reply. I have facebooked her on her birthday every year, but rarely get responses. I sometimes go and look at her pictures, and it makes my chest hurt. She was my best friend and I miss her all the time. I don’t know why, and I probably never will. Friends from 1991-2012 and just gone.. just like that.

I see these people I am friends with now, and they have friends from when they were kids, in school, etc…. and I wonder how that feels. Because I don’t have that. I used to. But I don’t anymore. And it makes me wonder… why? Why was it so easy for these people to just go away? Am I defective? A sucky friend? A crappy person? I don’t think I am. But there is clearly something fundamentally wrong with who I am, if 10 people can just turn and walk away, without ever looking back.

It sucks that I will never have that person in my life who knew me when I was a kid (outside of family, of course). Or when I had my first kid. Or when I went through my hell and landed on my feet. It sucks that any of my “remember when” moments with my current people all start when I am in my 20’s or 30’s. It is sad. I feel like I have been robbed of a part of life that everyone around me has. It makes me sad. It makes me feel broken.

Like, I know that my life was a rollercoaster ride for the longest time. I know that I went through an enormous amount of pain and shit. But most of these people left me either right before, or right after, all of the hell on earth. So, who knows. I will probably never get any answers (other than the obvious ones, which are those certain people in that list are just giant fucking asshats…)

Still, if I could get any of them back… I would give my left kidney for #10 to be sitting at my table laughing with me again. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I miss you.

To curse, or not to curse…

A few days ago, my friend tagged me in a post on facebook. The gist of the article was about parents swearing in front of their kids. I know a few people in my life who are very anti-swearing.  I, however, seem to come across as one of the parents who don’t watch what they say. How does that make me feel? I am not sure about that, but one thing I do know for sure, I don’t avoid certain words or phrases for fear that my kids will repeat them. (possibly because by now, they’ve repeated all of the bad ones, so why stop now?)

It started me thinking. Does this make me a bad mom? Should I be shielding my kids from the horrible words of the world? If I curse in front of my kids, does that set them up to be wretched little humans?

And you know what I deduced? F*CK NO! My kids are great and funny and smart little humanoids, and maybe even smarter than kids who’ve never heard “fuck” or “shit”, or ever heard their mother shout her famous coined-phrased “piss and shit-sticks” when she’s forgotten something important, or had their mother or father mumble “douchebag” to the rude-ass driver on the road.

Smarter how, you may ask? Well, I’ll tell you! Cuz my kids have heard all of these (and possibly worse, don’t judge me!) and they know that they’re not supposed to repeat it, and for the most part, they don’t! I think that jacks their intelligence points up a few notches, because they are a few steps ahead of kids who’ve never heard them and then begin to shout them from the rooftop at the first chance they get when they’re older.

I’ll admit – I came from a very strict and religious house (I recall getting my ass GROUNDED when I dared bring a NKOTB cassette into my house.. “hangin’ tough” was the one and only song I have ever heard, because I got busted while listening to my “secular” contraband in my room one day) So when I got old enough to be in a group of kids who used this vernacular as their regular speak, I got butterflies! A few things went through my head at my first experience with a non-religious-schoolyard encounter…

1- oh my goodness, naughty words!

2- holy shit, these kids are badasses!

3- holy shit, I just said “holy shit!” I am such a badass!

It was my first week of grade 7 (my first year of junior high) and I was blown away! We were all standing in a group by the fence (like true bad-asses) and I heard some of my new-found friends using naughty words, and my religious upbringing recoiled, and then (what I believe to be) my true identity came surging forth, and my first (of many) curse words left my tongue with ferocity and force, and I felt a surge of empowerment and sophistication (shut up, I was a stupid kid) and I have been a profanity volcano ever since.

Well, that is not entirely true, I suppose. For the looongest time, I kept up the charade of being good little church girl, for the most part, while in the presence of my family. But you can only keep your true self bottled up for so long, until the carbonation build-up gets too strong and the “real” you comes bubbling forth. Well, I think my “true self” came surging out with the purchase of my very first (and still favorite) Blink 182 cd. I remember playing it in my car and my sister calling me a heathen (she was a church girl for a lot longer than her heathen big sister) I can still see the look of shock and disgust on her face, and it still makes me giggle. She soon crossed over to the dark-side with me, though, using her first naughty word while singing along with Kid Rock in her car (she was beside herself with shock, disgust and amusement when the F word came unknowingly flying out of her mouth while singing along to her cars cd player) I laughed, and it remains one of my favorite memories to this day.

The churchy charade soon ended at home, and now I am not ashamed to say that our family gatherings bring forth some of the most filth-ridden and hysterical spewings of profanity. So, if you shy away from that sort of talk, stay away from this particular group of yahoos.

But back to my children. I have decided that swearing around my kids isn’t taboo. Swearing AT my children, abso-bloody-lutely.. Don’t be disrespectful to them; they are still people.


1- I am the parent

2- I am grown up and know right from wrong.

3- We are not equals.

4- “Do as I say, not as I do” rules in this house. Not saying I am a bad example, but I had to learn the hard way, so they don’t have to.

5- They are my kids, and while I adore them, they still have a lot to learn.

6- You shouldn’t be on the same parallel as your kids. Same level of respect, yes. But at the end of the day, you will always be older than them, and THEIR PARENT!

7- We teach them not to slam their fingers in the car door, or to pick their noses in public, so, teaching them not to repeat the shit I say should be a piece of cake, and perfectly acceptable.

8- If you don’t agree with this, don’t swear in front of my kids, and politely ask me to watch my mouth in front of yours. Respect. Goes both ways, I am not an asshole.

9- Hearing my son honk the little horn in the car-cart at Safeway and mumble “douchebag” is a memory I will always laugh about, and wouldn’t have if he hadn’t heard me and my husband doing the same thing. He was told to not say that anymore (and he hasn’t) but it was still amusing.

So all in all, I don’t believe that swearing makes people “bad”. I don’t believe that kids will grow up to be horrible people if they hear naughty words, nor do I believe it sets them up for a putrid existence. They are just words. Yes, their meaning may be a bit less scrupulous than some, but does that really breed a bunch of assholes? No. My kids still have manners and morals, they are still sweet and caring and thoughtful, they still have respect, they still know right from wrong, and they still have huge and beautiful hearts. But just to even shit out, I put them in Catholic school, so they can learn stuff that I might not necessarily be able to teach them.

But let’s be honest, most kids I know from Catholic or religious schools/backgrounds end up being the foul-mouthed naughty kids anyway (case and point, MOI!), so maybe I just gave my kids a headstart to understand the logistics of this foul-mouth society that they are about to enter.

Who f*cking knows.. All I know is, my kids are frequently getting Virtue Awards at school for being kind, considerate, thoughtful, patient and loving… So I must be doing something right. 

Grateful + turmoiled = some sort of weird ass emotion…

I am feeling pensive, grateful and turmoiled all at the same time. This post is the product of that mish-mash of emotions.

My kids. What to say… I think they are amazing. And I know, I am biased because I cooked them and birthed them and raised them… but, I still think they are amazing. All three of them – they are individually these awesome little tiny humans. They are smart and funny, so creative and come up with the most awesome stuff. Sure, they can be annoying little craps, but they’re kids! That’s their job. But, I am noticing that there are people who choose not to incorporate them into their lives.. people who know them and have the opportunity to be around them, watch them grow, and be part of who they become. And they are choosing not to. They are choosing to not just watch from the sidelines, but to not participate at all. What do I have to say to these people? Your loss! My kids are great! And it makes me sad to watch these bystanders see them, and comment on how they are growing/learning/talking/sleeping/etc when they had the opportunity to know them and participate in their lives, and decided they didn’t want to. Who missed their football games; sure, they weren’t edge-of-your-seat exciting, but they are trying! Who missed their swimming and parkour and school events. Who weren’t around during their short obsession with rainbow loom, and missed out on getting one of their cute little bears or flowers. Who missed out on them learning to walk and talk. Who missed out on how cute they can be with one another. Who missed out on all of the big moments. Who miss out on their crazy stories, or hearing about their crushes at school. Who will never know what it is like to walk past a lingerie store with my toddler and hear him yell “look mommy! Boobs!” They aren’t perfect, but they are still amazing.

My husband. What to say… He is my heart, the protector of my soul, my second chance at a happy ending, the man who picks me up and holds me up, dries my tears, makes me laugh, keeps me safe and is everything I never knew I always wanted. He may not be the biological father of all of my children, but he is their dad, through and through. He wasn’t something I had planned.. I had given up on that part of my life, and I was fine with that. In fact, I didn’t want a relationship again. He was the one who pursued me, was persistent, sat by waiting patiently while I allowed him into my heart, and still, to this day, patiently and lovingly handles my freak-outs, my moments of pure panic, my moments of total and complete untrust, and all of my insane commitment crap. Yes, I am the commitment-phobe in our world. And he is okay with that. Would he prefer if I was mellow and totally trusting and calm? Oh, I am sure he would! But that is just not what he signed up for 😉 He is my absolute everything, and it pains me to know that there are people who aren’t accepting of our relationship because of our past lives. He is my happiness and my forever.. so, accept that or piss off.. cuz no amount of judging or criticism or rumor spreading is going to change what we have, or the fact that this is our life now.

My current house situation. What to say.. it sucks.. HAHAHA! But it could be worse! It could be MUCH worse! Sure, the carpet is old (read: original, and should have been replaced 7 years ago) and has been lit on fire in some spots, the paint is horrid (it is that really awful pinkish taupe color that was popular in the late 90’s early 2000’s), the old tenants had a dog that literally destroyed the basement (read: let them go to the bathroom on the concrete.. imagine the smell… I am down there once every few weeks pouring Mr Clean on it..), the deck was lit on fire by a past tenant and is not safe for my son to play on (thus rendering the yard pretty unuseable for us), the appliances are old and rubbish (the food freezes in the back of the fridge, so you have to keep things pulled forward, cuz if you changed the temp, the stuff in the door goes rotten.. it is quite the dance to keep food fresh!), the garage wasn’t properly insulated and is literally a sauna and is affecting the food in our deep freeze in there, the neighbors told us the house has been forcibly entered by the police due to the previous tenant and the landlord never fixed it (you could hipcheck my garage man door and come into my house, even if it was locked), the dryer has ruined my sheets and a pile of our clothes… I could go on. But when I lay down at night, I am home. This is where my kids and husband are.. this is where we are making memories for the time being. This is not a forever home.. this is merely a landing pad on the way to our next adventure. And, like I said, it could be worse 😉 Still, I wish the carpets didn’t still smell like dog… ick.

My job. What to say..  I love it! I get to hang out with some of the nicest, funnest and most interesting people every day. It is a gym, and everyone is always in a good mood. I get to talk and learn all day. How is that a bad thing? I have gone to college twice. I have two college diplomas. Do I use either of them? No. Could I? Yes. Would I make a very comfortable living if I did? Sure. But I don’t want to. Because I know if I did, I would be miserable. And life is just too short. My husband makes a verrrrry good living, and I don’t “have” to work. But I do, because a few extra bucks never hurts.. plus, it gets me out of the house and around other people, which is never a bad thing 😉 Still, I have people judging me on my position.. You know what that is gonna get you? Very detailed directions on where to go and how to get there. Trust me, I am a travel agent by trade, so I am qualified to give out such directions! Ha ha….

My past.. What to say.. Fuck off. We all have them. And if you are judging me based on my past, then you don’t deserve to be in my future! Moving on.

My ex. What to say… Oh.. I am not sure we have time to get into this. So, let me just say this. He is manipulative and two-faced. He is a pathological liar, and he is screwing with my kids so bad, they are frequently in tears and have to see a counsellor. It is a constant battle to have him uphold his end of our divorce, and I am frequently on the phone with my lawyer to see what my rights are in different situations (after 6 years, you would think it would have mellowed by now) So when I have people tell me he is a nice guy, or he’s not that bad, or he’s trying… bla bla bla… just stop! Stop. I do not make shit up. I do not want this kind of attention. Trust me, life would be simpler if he wasn’t a flaming douche. But alas, those were not the cards I was dealt. I am here to keep my kids safe and raise them to be wonderful GOOD and HONEST men. And if you have anyone’s back but mine after learning this? Well, then I guess he is going to “get you” in the divorce.

My health. What to say.. it’s brutal, but it could be so much worse. I am beyond grateful that all that is wrong with me is hypothyroidism, hashimotos (an autoimmune disease), some stressed adrenals and the occasional cold. Would I prefer to be normal and healthy? Sure!!!! But, this is my journey. And I am grateful mine isn’t a much harder one.

My friends. What to say.. Though my list of friends has drastically changed over the last few years, I still maintain the closest ones, and that is just fine with me. It is a constant ebb and flow, and the dynamics with lots of them have changed. But I know that if I need anything, I have a handful of people who would drop their shit to come help me with mine. And at the end of the day, that is all that matters to me.

It is my life. As dysfunctional and messy, seemingly broken (to others) and chaotic, maybe sad and pathetic to some… but it is mine… 100% unapologetically and unabashedly MINE. And while there are points I would like to change, that may never be possible. So I am happy of what I have been given, accepting of what has been dealt, and excited to see what comes next.

Grateful + turmoiled = some sort of weird ass emotion….