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. 

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Ten things not to say to a “boy mom”

I have all boys. It is a lot, some days. But I still love it. My boys are my world, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Do I sometimes wish I had a girl to do girly shit with? To take for pedicures and all of that? Sure. Sometimes. Then I think about the bras and clothes and periods and hair and boys and hormones and hormones and crying and tantrums and crying and nails and all of the stuff that comes with girls (just generalizing here, don’t jump up my ass for pigeon holing females.. speaking as a female, I can say this generalization is generally bang on)

BUT!!!! Boys are not easy. It’s not all hot wheels and skittles. To be honest, it is pretty close! But they come with their own list of challenges and issues, they are tiring and exhausting and confusing, just like every kid is. It has it’s moments of being insanely low maintenance, but, there are a few things about having all boys that drive me absolutely bat-shit crazy… I mean, after all, I am a mom, I have a crew off hooligans learning their way in the world, and that could drive anyone to the brink of insanity.

Frequently, in my daily swim in a sea of testosterone, I am repeatedly asked the same questions over and over, and the same remarks are made in regards to the sex of my offspring.

Here are a list of my top 10, but trust me, there are many many more.

#10. All boys? why yes! you are quite astute.

#9. It must get loud! yes, as most children do at one time or another, it does get loud.

#8. Wow, there must be a lot of smells! well, considering my children bathe, and are not cavemen, it doesn’t smell any more than any other human being would. but thanks for the concern for our hygiene.

#7. Boys are so much easier than girls – lucky! really!? is that so? thanks for letting me know.

#6. I am so glad I don’t have boys please come and say this to me when your girls are in their teens and you’re up-stream in estrogen river, and I am happily swimming in my sea of testosterone.

#5. Your grocery bill must be insane! yes, it is quite absurd, as most people’s are these days, but at least I will never have the enormous beauty costs that moms of girls will have.

#4. Boys aren’t as affectionate as girls, my girls always snuggle and want to cuddle well, that is interesting to learn. I will be sure to contemplate this remark the next time I have all three of my boys sitting on or beside me, giving me a hundred hugs and kisses every night, and telling me they love me more times a day than I can count.

#3. Bet you wish you had a girl – all that pink and pretty stuff is fun! nope.

#2. Gonna try for a girl? FUCK NO. I am fixed. My husband is fixed. We are done done done.

#1. Guess you will just have to keep trying for a girl! listen to me very carefully, I have 3 boys. I adore my boys. My life is complete. I do not feel like I am missing anything. I do not feel like I was shorted in life. I do not feel like I am less whole without someone with pigtails and attitude sauntering through my house. I am sure people adore their girls. But you know what? I adore my boys. PERIOD.

 

Maybe people should just stick to their own business and stop trying to tell me what sex of human to have in my house. I am a single female in a house of males, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sore, but not dead.. keep going!

So, on January 4th I went way out of my comfort zone. I weighed myself in front of someone else! Absurd, right? I frigging agree! But the local sporting goods store does this bad-ass contest every New Year… people go weigh in, their weight is marked down in the computer, and in 8 weeks, go weigh again! And for every pound you’ve lost, they issue you a $3 gift card for their store! For anyone without thyroid issues, this could pay big! Or men… pffft… it is just so unfair how quick dudes can dump weight! But as previously discussed, women get to sit to pee, so there has to be balance in the battle of the sexes somewhere. I sit to pee, and they can lose 5 pounds in one day without trying. Yup, totally fair. Anyway, I am getting off topic (slightly)

So I begrudgingly dragged my tubby butt into the store, and then proceeded to ramble the lady’s ear off as I was stepping on to the scale, explaining why I was as big as I was… like she cares, right? Yeah, probably not. But I still felt it necessary! Some days I want to wear a sandwich board explaining my weight situation, because the judging looks can get really hurtful and annoying. But anyway, I weighed myself, for the first time in many months, in front of a total stranger. And as a recap, the many months also included when my son was diagnosed with diabetes, the subsequent hospital stay, and my prolonged IDGAF attitude towards eating, snacking and gluten. Gluten, for anyone who isn’t aware, is a big no-no for people with my autoimmune disease, but at that point, I was focused on my sons newly diagnosed autoimmune disease (which gluten doesn’t affect, for anyone keeping track)

When I stepped on to that scale (it was on carpet, which I didn’t think was smart for weighing, but whatever…) I was pleasantly surprised. It was nowhere near where I thought it would be! It was much lower – still a grotesquely revolting number, but lower, nonetheless.

I re-started the 21 Day Fix on January 4th. I love that program. When it first came out in 2014, I did it religiously and lost 10 pounds in a month and a half. Then my doctor fucked around with my meds, and I gained upwards of 35 pounds, and haven’t lost it yet (thanks Doc!) But it is a great program. Most people don’t really realize how much their portions are just waaaaay wrong. It super helped. And I found the workouts to be really fun! I had to modify lots to begin with, but got better and stronger. Then I had to quit, at to the request of the aforementioned doctor. But I happily threw my dvds in and started all gung-ho. But I quickly became insanely bored (hello, doing this for almost 2 years.. it is bound to get boring as hell) So I popped in my 21 Day Fix Extreme and…. HOLY SHITBALLS! There is nothing easy about this program! The very first workout, I wanted to die. Plyo with weights? Screw you! Cardio with weights? Screw you more! Everything with weights? Kill me now. I am so sore. So so sore.

SO SORE! But you know what? I am not dead. And, I have lost almost 6 pounds now. Sure, in the span of a month, that is not super awesome. But, I am not eating super good (too little, if anything.. for real, I hate food) and I am still modifying a lot (I have the knees of a 70 year old man) But every morning, I get up, make my Amino Energy, pop in my dvd, pull out my weights, and sweat my balls off (I have sweat a lot, so I no longer have balls.. hahaha)

At the very least, I imagine I will get about $15.00 in gift cards. My husband weighed in, too. So I am sure he will let me use his gift cards, too. I am hoping to get enough to get a new sports bra. Ooooh, dreaming big!!

All that sparkles is gone…

We moved into our house on November 25th, and I decided to put up our tree and decorations right off the bat. It made more sense to me than unpacking the whole house, and then moving a ton of stuff to get the Christmas rubbish up. Yes, I am very wise! But save your applause til the end.

So, we have been in here for just over a month (and may I say how lovely it is to move in the winter! Everyone needs to try that just once in their lives.. you know what they say, misery loves company!) But anyway.. our house has been all shiny and silver and dripping sparkly shit since we moved in. While I admit that I love the lights, I despise the mess. I am not much of a light-turner-oner, so Christmas is wonderful, cuz all of the lights are on and I don’t need to use any lamps or the god awful ceiling lights. HOWEVER! When the garland explodes and little slivers of silver are attached to everything, I have minor panic attacks. And for a Type A, this is rather dangerous.

But I do it for my kids! They love it. Their eyes still fill with magic and wonder, and get all giddy when the tree is set up. I had my apprehensions about having it up with our little furball this year, but the little feline a-hole did surprisingly well for this being his first Christmas. My older two are pretty much out of the “santa” lie, but my 4 year old is still deep in it. So we all do our best to make it special and magical.. this will be our last little one, and once the jig is up, that will be it for us and the magic of Christmas.

Most years, by noon on December 26th my house is de-sparkly-shited and life is back to normal. However, due to divorce papers, my older two boys weren’t with us this year, so we had to postpone our big family shin-dig until January 1st. (sidenote: shin-dig? Why is this phrase related to things that should be enjoyable? One would think that digging your shin would be unpleasant.. but that’s just my opinion) So I had an extra week of the festive mess so that our family Christmas could be decorated accordingly. It was nice, it was busy, it was hot but it was fun.

Our family has grown exponentially over the last few years. For the longest time, it was just the parents and us 4 kids. Then I had a kid, then another, then the siblings started pairing off, then I had another kid, then in one year, 2 more kids were brought into the family, and then another last year. So now we are up to 2 parents, 4 kids with partners, and 6 grandchildren. It’s a lot of people! But, it is my people, so it is cool. I mean, it was stifling hot in here, but it was still cool.

But we did it, it was a few hours of insanity, and once everyone was back to their cozy abodes, we put our kids to bed, cleaned up the kitchen, got into our comfy pants and I told my husband I wanted to take down the Christmas crap. He snorted, threw himself on the couch and turned on the hockey game. Fine. I plopped myself down on the couch and apparently succumbed to how exhausted I must have been, because I woke up later to my husband talking about Lethal Weapon 4. Nothing says the end of Christmas much better than Riggs and Murtaugh blathering on about being “too old for this shit”.

But for now, my house is back to being just a normal amount of mess. Maybe I should look at this differently and appreciate the sparkly shit – I suppose it is just a really pretty mess.
  

Before… 

  
After…. *sigh of relief*  

Shine over the breaks… 

My friend said something to me that struck a chord – and not in the way that brings upon backlash.. Nay nay.. This is me.. Instead, I sat and let it fester and thought about it for hours. 

She told me that I seemed sad, but she was worried my sadness was so great, it would turn into anger and it would seep into all areas of my life. To which I replied “I am angry!” And typing that sentence is a whole new ball game. It makes it true and brings it to life. That’s entirely different than just feeling angry. Admittance is the first step, after all 😉 

Sure, I know I’ve felt mad and angry and betrayed. But I keep trying to focus on the good, and let the other shit be water under the bridge. Like shit creek – just stinking it up and floating about. But I guess I wasn’t really aware of how stinky I have been allowing myself to feel. 

I tell my husband all the time how happy I am, how much I love our life, how happy he makes me, how happy the boys make me, how much I love my job (and his job, for that matter) and how excited I am for our future. But I guess I let the bad outweigh the good, and it’s starting to overshadow the shiny stuff. THAT IS NOT GOOD! Shiny stuff is the tits and should be celebrated for how awesome it is, not overshadowed by some stinky creek water. 

So I decided that this weekend is gonna be all about healing my owies and working on fixing what I feel is broken. People say “don’t fix it if it ain’t broke”… Well, if my shiny shit is being seen as dull, then I guess that means something is broke. 

I have to really learn to let things go and move on.. I carry way too much hostility and grudges. I need to learn to exhale and release. I’ve never been good at that. I am someone who will hold a grudge until the end of time. That’s not healthy! So I’ll do my personal development, maybe some journaling.. Write down what hurts and sucks, and see how much tarnish I can get off.

I know I’ll never be brand new and shiny again – once you break this many times, you’re always going to show signs of wear and tear. But, I will work on gluing those breaks back together, and maybe shining over them. 

There is so much good in my life. Thinking back to where I’ve come from and what I’ve dealt with, I shouldn’t complain. Life is only going up and getting easier for me. I’ve come so far… That’s what I have to keep in mind – onward and upward. 

I just hope I haven’t damaged myself beyond repair. My husband is the king of silver linings, and I know he will never let me only see the bad.. And he believes I am not irreparably damaged – so, let’s go with that.  

 

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….