Ethereal Chaos

Cabin!

2009-03-05T12:29:00.002-06:00

I know it's been a while...

I'm sorry to have kept you waiting...

But, I've been busy...as you can see. The best part is...It's ALL MINE! (And the banks!) I love it. Though, it's a lot of work. I'm finally home.

Joe the Polly Parrot

2009-01-20T12:03:00.007-06:00

This is Joe. He (or she...since no-one really knows) is 24 years old. My Grandmother bought him in Plano, TX a few weeks after her last 'Polly Parrot' flew out the kitchen window and managed to make it to a grouping of trees to fly away. (Caged birds don't have the endurance required for long distance flights.) Joe was only a baby, and didn't even have any feathers at the time that she brought him home. I've grown up with this bird. He's as much a part of my family as a favorite uncle would be, and certainly my Grandma's baby.

Unfortunately, we've had to place my Grandmother in a retirement community. Against my Fathers wishes..she doesn't want to be a burden. Even worse, she can't have pets. For the past several years this has been lurking in the shadows. We knew it was time for her to leave her large house, and be around people her age. Especially after she started having episodes of dementia...calling the exterminator because of spiders the size of dinner plates, and flying turtles who wanted to 'get her' while she watched television.

The community that my Grandmother chose doesn't allow pets. Even pets that have been with you for longer than some of your Grandchildren have been alive. So, Joe is coming to live with me. It's bittersweet, but I'm happy about it. I can remember being a little girl and knocking on my G-Ma's front door. I'd hear her call out, "Come in, Jack!" (My Daddy) and we'd all go inside to find my Grandmother out back in her garden, or doing laundry in the back of the house. Because she's always been his 'Mama' it's her voice that he's learned to imitate. And he does it with an uncanny likeness. He'll be watching television with my Dad and giggle in my Grandmothers voice and say, "Oh..That's too funny!" or, "Oh that makes me so proud!"
He loves to eat whatever we eat and will call out from his perch, "Hey! Is that good? Is it good? Hey! Hey! IS THAT GOOD???" And won't stop until you give him a bite and let him find out for himself.

All of my Grandparents are getting older, and it's heartbreaking to see their age showing and to hear of the weekly visits to the doctor, or see the bottles of pills lining my Poppy's shelves. Having Joe is like keeping a part of my Grandma next to me all the time. Regardless of what happens...I'll have her with me through Joe. And, my children will hopefully take him after me. At 25, he hasn't quite lived a quarter of his life span.
What a beautiful way for my Grandmother to always live on.

Fleeing to the wilderness

2009-01-14T09:27:00.006-06:00

We've fled the city. I'll explain in full detail in a later post, but I wanted to put something down now to let you all know that I'm alive and well. More than that, I'm happier. I needed my parents, the wilderness, the river...to remind me that I'm not alone.

She's happier also. The fresh air, coupled with long walks on the riverbed (when the dam is closed) has created a louder, more energetic, and much giggle-lier baby for me to enjoy. The older Turkeys are staying in the city with their Dad until the end of the school year. It was a heartbreaking decision, but one I had to make.

I thought leaving Colorado was "The start of something new." And realized rather quickly that it would take more than me to call it a success. Things happened that hindered my freedom, my bank account, my life...and 'making it' became my only goal. I lost myself to emotions of anger, sadness, and desperation until I realized that going 'home' didn't mean, "Failure."

So here we are. For now. And do you know what? It Rocks. Totally. Well, except for the badgers. If anyone knows how to convince a family of angry bear-like rodents to re-locate, I'll love you forever!!

Kidnapped

2009-01-03T09:27:00.004-06:00

Hello! Hi! Happy New Year! Oh my goodness, I've MISSED you guys! I think I've mentioned that my darling baby is a demon. Cutest demon ever..but oh my! She took the cake on Christmas day when she poured an entire cup of coffee on my keyboard.
Before I had a chance to deal with that, my parents and sister had conspired to force a vacation on me. A vacation that included no Internet, cell phones, or cable tv.

They thought they were helping. Little did they know, I was having withdrawals from you guys super bad!

Despite that, I had a wonderful time. New Years Eve was spent around a campfire listening to my brother-in-law play the guitar while all us 'redneck' folks sang drunkenly to Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, and all the old greats. My parents have the baby out at the River, and she's spending her days being spoiled rotten by her Pawpaw.

I just got back home and have no children, dogs, or any other being here with me to distract me from getting some things done that can't wait. But, first...I have to catch up with all of you! I hope everyone had an amazing Christmas morning, and a wonderful New Years celebration. I'll write more on our great times later!

Momma's Boys

2008-12-22T22:23:00.007-06:00

So, Who watched Momma's Boys? I didn't mean to. I reserve my television for times where no Turkeys will interrupt, and I can really veg. But tonight my jaw is 2 times it's normal size thanks to an impacted wisdom tooth that my dentist was "positive" didn't need to come out. Not the first time my x-ray's have turned out to be liars, so I happen to have antibiotics and Vicodin here.
Vicodin and I have a love hate relationship. If it weren't addictive I might take it just to get my house clean. Don't know why...but it makes me want to scour every inch of my house with bleach & lysol. It also makes me z-o-n-e. So, I somehow got sucked into watching parts of the new TV show on NBC. I wouldn't have, cause I'm SO much stronger than that (ya friggin right) BUT...I know one of those chicks!

They showed her face while she was speaking, and she caught my eye from my place underneath the recliner where every dadgum dustbunny in the entire world goes to die. Her name is Rana, and it said she's from Dallas, but I'm 99% sure she's really from ****** (EDIT: You know..there just might be a reason her real city wasn't listed, so I took that part out.) I think that I worked with her at a restaurant called Bahama Breeze. 'Back in the day'. Before I hooked up with the law firm, before I hightailed my fanny to the mountains, I'm almost totally sure that I knew that chick.

And, it made me feel kinda like a rockstar. So, wherever you are Rana...What's up chick? ...I REALLY want some coconut prawns right now. Thanks for the trip down memory lane! And, if I don't know you...this is some freaky dream or someshizz...I'm sorry. I won't stalk you, I promise.

PS..HOSTESS! I think. Man. This is really gonna bug me.

PPS..I stole that picture from NBC's website... Please don't sue me.

PPPS..I would totally ruin my boys chances on that show. Poor girls wouldn't know what hit 'em.

I'm ready!

2008-12-21T20:29:00.003-06:00

I think, today, I finally got into the spirit of this Christmas. The two older Turkeys are down with another stomach bug, so we spent the day watching Christmas DVD's. Ate tons of popcorn, and the baby and I polished off an entire bag of candy cane oreos.
My oldest developed an affinity to peppermint tea (I knew it was only a matter of time) and I sent the neighbor kid home with the rest of the cookies and fudge sitting on the counter-top.

It was quiet, and lazy, and just what I needed to remind me that this is what Christmas, or any holiday, is about. Hanging out with the people you love the most, doing the things that make you smile and feel good inside, and not worrying about what tomorrow is going to bring.

I love you, my babies. Get better tonight.

Laying Tiger to rest today...

2008-12-20T12:37:00.008-06:00

I've been taking care of a kitty that doesn't belong to me for a while now. His owner lived in a neighborhood on a busy road in Ft. Worth, and this cat doesn't allow you to leave him indoors. So, I took him in. Hey...free cat food.

About a week after my beloved Tigie went missing, the house-guest kitty (Simba) came home one evening quite lethargic. The next morning he started to hemorrhage, and continued bleeding for about an hour. With no way to get him to a vet, and no money to afford one..I took care of him the best I could. After about 3 days, he started acting better. He was walking around, eating, drinking without me holding the bowl under his nose. He was still 'leaking', not blood..but not good either (gross, I'm sorry) so I had to keep him in the garage. Then in my bathroom once it got too cold outside. The last 2 days, he's been slowly losing steam. He was lethargic again, couldn't eat or drink without my help. Yesterday, it was again warm enough to put him in the garage. My bathroom had started to stink pretty bad, regardless of how many times I put out clean sheets.

I knew when I carried him back to the garage that he was a goner. His eyes were glazed over, and he was so limp. When I put him down, he stood there shaking until I moved his body into a laying position. At some point, he moved to the concrete floor and stretched out. My guess is he had a high fever, and died sometime in the night.

At this moment, the kids don't know. I'm waiting on Simba's owner to come take care of his body. The garage door is locked, so the kids won't inadvertently find him.
I am pissed off at this 'friend' of mine. The cat wasn't important enough for him to drive out here and get to a vet. But he offered to come 'get rid of him' for me days ago. I assumed that meant abandoning a very sick animal, which wasn't exactly an option. I didn't love Simba, but I couldn't allow him to be tossed aside like that...while he was still living, anyway.

Theres also the little fact that Tigie is still missing. Though, I really can't say I believe he's alive anymore. Watching Simba go through this hell made me very paranoid that someone is either purposely or stupidly hurting animals around here.
Something isn't right, and I can only pray if that is the case, that Tigie didn't hold on as long as Simba did.

I was never a cat person. Once, a long time ago.. I had Gypsy. I loved her, but never felt the need to replace her when she jumped over the balcony to go make a family, and never returned. Tiger was my lovey. He was a link to my best friend, and I cherished him all the more for that. I've missed him for almost 3 weeks now, and held out hope that he'd come home to me. Even after Simba became so ill, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was watching him die of the same thing that took Tiger from me. I didn't want to believe what I felt deep down.

We know when we lose something precious to us. If we listen to our hearts, we'll hear the truth. I've known Tiger was gone, and couldn't or wouldn't admit it to myself. So, I'm admitting it now. I'm laying him to rest in my heart and letting go.

P.S. Jennifer, I'm so sorry.

My Baby the Elf

2008-12-18T15:36:00.003-06:00

Turkey #1 was an elf in her school pageant. Her only line was, "Don't worry Mrs. Claus...we'll figure it out!" And, like a pro~she nailed it.
What she didn't nail was her costume. This thing has been in the works since last month. She was originally going to be a stuffed animal, but requested a speaking line instead.

After spending the weekend with her Father & Step-Monster, she came home empty handed, even though we'd agreed he would handle the costume part of the play. I explained to the 3 of them that it's highly unlikely that I'll be able to find a cab willing to carry me to 39 different stores in search of a freaking elf costume, and that they would have to deal with it by Tuesday night.
To my amazement, they did. They were back Monday with a perfect costume, and promises that they won't let things like this fall through the cracks anymore. (Yea, right.)

Regardless, she looked adorable and did an amazing job! Cause she rocks!
Anyway, that's all I have time for. I'm a slave to the kitchen until all the neighbors know how much I appreciate them watching my back, and not running over my children while they're outside playing.

I still have a surprise, but it's waiting until after Christmas. Boo! Hiss! I know...I'm sorry. I wasn't given a choice in the matter. OK, so I was..and I chose. But, it's for your own good. I promise.
OK, seriously...there are cookies burning. What the hell? I thought I had at least another 2 minutes.

Prank gone wrong...

2008-12-15T09:17:00.002-06:00

I can't stop laughing, or I'd give you a description of this video. You're just going to have to listen for yourself.

Giveaway...Hurry!!

2008-12-14T14:24:00.006-06:00

You deserve a Christmas present. You do! I saw you on Santa's nice list the other night when we met up in the ghetoo! But, since Santa has much younger folks to concern himself with these days, he's not gonna just wrap up a little sumthin-sumthin for you without some effort on your part.

Don't get all worried. I know you have a lot to do. Presents to wrap, cookies to bake, and parties to plan...so this isn't going to be difficult. Just go here, leave a comment and if Santa picks you you'll get some goodies! If he doesn't, then keep reading and I promise you'll find something you can make for yourself that will fill the void. (And if you hate crafty things, then maybe you'll pick up some tips on how to never pay for toothpaste or toilet tissue again!) But hurry...I hear Santa has a spontaneous streak, and you never know when he'll click that button!

I hope everyone is having a lovely and peaceful Sunday afternoon. I know I am. An elf showed up and whispered in my ear. I can't tell you what he told me yet because it'll ruin the surprise, but stay tuned...because it's for you!

Disgusted

2008-12-13T22:57:00.006-06:00

I am the kind of person who wraps my mind around something and doesn't let go. I'll obsess over things that are irrelevant to my life simply because it tugged at something inside me. Maybe I'm just bored. Yea...that's it. I'm bored and need a better hobby than any of the 34 I already have.

The last few days I've been obsessing over Caylee Anthony. I've watched all the jailhouse visits between her Mother, Casey and her Grandparents. I'm sickened at the lack of emotion Casey Anthony has shown her child and her family. I don't doubt that something is missing inside this woman that caused her to remove herself from Mother-hood, but I can't understand the blase attitude. At least fake some remorse!

In one of the first visits Grandmother says to Casey, "Caylee's third birthday is right around the corner, Casey..we have to find her before then. Caylee has to be home before her third birthday"
Casey responded with, "Caylee is my first priority too Mom." But her voice sounds more annoyed than concerned. She never cries, never pleads for the safe return of her baby, who she long ago claimed has been kidnapped.
I can't understand that. I can't understand her waiting a month to mention that her baby was missing either, so I suppose the difference lies somewhere in our genetic makeup.

It's an irrational emotion, but I feel guilty for every baby that's been abused. Baby, child, teenager, adult, senior citizen, animal...it doesn't matter. I have that lingering feeling that something should have been done, and why wasn't it? I believe that people who witness abuse and keep their silence are just as guilty as those who strike the blow.

Call me a nosy bitch...but if a 'friend' of mine couldn't figure out where her baby was for even a moment, I'd personally be on the phone with 911 regardless of the bullshit spewing from the woman's mouth.
Casey Anthony is a psychopath. She's shown no remorse for her missing child, except for flatly stated comments that could have been read from a cue card. I pray the state of Florida gives her the maximum penalty available by law, and that hell is even worse than her nightmares.

I also pray that the citizens of Florida don't buy the bull$hit insanity case that she's more than likely going to start screaming once the remains that were found today come back conclusive.

Merry Christmas Casey Anthony. I hope they release you into general population soon. You deserve it!

Pure Talent...

2008-12-11T21:30:00.003-06:00

This guy gives new meaning to, "Don't sweat the small stuff."

Magical Quote; "I'm trying to teach the world that 'nothing' doesn't exist."

I met Santa Claus...

2008-12-11T12:32:00.004-06:00

I had a check that I really, really needed to turn into cash. I bank with USAA, and do not (nor have I ever) had a single credit card..even with them. This is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it keeps me out of debt. A curse because it can take up to 3 weeks from the date I mail a check to them before it shows up in my account. Usually not a problem. Yesterday? Big Problem. But, I digress... By the time my friend was able to get off work and drive the half hour it takes to get to my house, our options were fairly limited. I was also dealing with a 2 party check and only had a copy of the 2nd persons ID to prove the validity so I kinda figured I was going to be SOL.

After being shot down twice, my friend said he knew of a place in Ft. Worth that was still open so we took off. (Mind you, my children were also grumbling in the backseat and demanding McDonalds as though they owned me!) Over an hour and a half after we originally left the house, we finally pulled up to a gas station. And, I'm looking at my friend like he's gone twice baked potato on me. Because really? A gas station?

We went inside and it's dingy. And, dirty. And, I wanted to take my babies and run. But, not in that neighborhood! The guy behind the counter barely spoke English, but made it clear that he didn't care about the 2nd party on the check. "Give me Check!"
After looking it over, he told me that he couldn't cash it because it was dated November 11, 2008. And, it's now December. Hu-What? I, of course, started explaining to him that the check had to first reach one destination, be signed by party #1 then mailed to me, where I've had to wait for an opportunity to leave the house and get it cashed. I was interrupted by my friend, (who I've known for 8 years and thought I knew all of his friends, and their friends, and blah blah blah) He told the guy behind the counter, "Ricky said to cash that check." To which counter guy straightened up, blinked, and said "You verify that?" My friend pulled out his cell phone and called 'Ricky' who talked to counter guy briefly before hanging up. My check was cashed with no more questions, while my friend took the kiddos back to his truck.

Afterwards, instead of driving back towards the highway, we pulled into a landscaping parking lot where there was another truck waiting. With 'Ricky' inside.
I said my (still bewildered) Thank You's. But I swear, that wasn't Ricky. It was Santa Claus. He had the beard and everything.
I didn't find out until we were already headed back to my house, Santa had co-signed my check! I've never met this man, but he told the guy behind the counter to cash my check, and he'd cover any problems if they arose. (I'm assuming I'm not the first person he's done this for, as the guy behind the counter didn't hesitate once he got the go-ahead.)

So. Yep. Santa saved my a$$. The real deal, and you can't convince me any differently. Straight jackets be damned, I'll be waiting on the roof with cookies and hot cocoa this year!~

Random...

2008-12-10T21:20:00.005-06:00

So, no pictures. The spare camera is still in hiding. But we made it to the church today, and even though there was no-one there we left our box of goodies on the pulpit with a note. We decided to sign it "Santa Claus"...even though I felt a tad bit guilty for doing so in a church. Please don't ask me why. I don't have an answer!

The kids were more excited about leaving it anonymously than the fact that someone else would benefit...but that's the point right? To teach them to give without reason, without needing additional recognition. As usual, they make me so proud. Someone mentioned to me today that they heard a crazy woman on the train muttering to herself. At one point she said, "children are what keep single parents going in life..." and the woman in hearing distance suddenly thought that maybe she wasn't quite so crazy after all.. Truer words have never been spoken. I don't think my friend knew quite how much that statement hit me, or how much I cherish those words..but I'll never forget them. (Thank you!)

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

I've had a client sitting on the fence for quite some time now. I try not to pressure people, because that's not my style...but I put the squeeze on today. I basically lied my ass off and said that I only have time for ONE more client, and have someone else that wants to sign with me. He bit. Thank You God.
So, I want to apologize to my newest client. I'm sorry I lied to you. Don't ever read my blog. And don't ever tell a single woman with kids, "Well, I've never done this before, so you could charge me triple and I wouldn't know the difference."
Be very happy that I am in a giving mood this holiday season and didn't decide to rip you off for being an ignorant fool who didn't do his homework. It's web design. Not brain surgery. Now, get that check in the mail. PRONTO!!!

Yesterday, I was crying into my pillow because I felt like the worlds biggest failure. Today, I've made up half of what the jackass stole from me on top of paying The Bills. (FYI...pawn shops are nasty. Just nasty.) We're out of the woods. And even though life isn't as rosy as it looked a week ago, it's going to pan out.
My kids have no idea that there was a hiccup in our little world, and that makes this whole experience a win! I don't mean to brag...but I'm SUPERMOM today!!

Never gonna keep me down!

2008-12-09T22:13:00.005-06:00

This post deserves a soundtrack:

Today started off with the stuff nightmares are made out of. At least for someone who's sole responsibility in life it is to protect and cherish 3 other beings.
I 'saw the light'.... and cried for way too long with my face shoved into a pillow and the door closed. Oh, the looks on my poor dogs faces...

I'm not a pansy though. I'm not a shrinking violet, or a wallflower, or a doormat.
I'm not your bitch! (Sorry Madonna...it's my line now.)
I will come out on top. Again.

The most importing thing is bills, and after taking a good hard look around, I think I've got that figured out. Take THAT,you bastard covered bastard with bastard filling! ;-)
I'd say some smart a$$ comment like, "Next time, try harder!" But, I'm afraid that's askin' for trouble!

Christmas for me is about the happiness that comes from families all being together and going crazy. The look on my nieces & nephews faces as they open their gifts, the crowd, the food, the music...but most of all, it's about the memory we create.
I want my children to have wonderful memories of every Christmas of their lives. Am I pissed that I won't be able to buy them the bad ass gifts I'd planned? Yep. But, I'm not going to allow this unfortunate soul to ruin the time of year where I thrive the most.

We don't need extra money to make a beautiful Christmas memory that my kiddos will cherish forever. All we need is a kitchen, a kind heart, and a walk to the Church behind our house. We've been cooking all afternoon. So far we've made a crapload of fudge, a dozen of the most amazing muffins ever, and cinnamon hard candy. I'm going to keep at it until they get home from school tomorrow and we're going to take baskets to the pastor of the Church. I'm sure there are a few more people in his congregation that he can think of who could use some deliciousness, and no one died last time. (So far as I know!)

While we were waiting for the candy to boil, my oldest and I talked about how difficult things are right now ~ for everybody. She told me about kids at school who still aren't wearing coats, because they have none, and how her friend's Mom just took off and left Dad alone with 5 kids. (I've met them, I had no idea...)
The entire time we worked she talked about her concern for things that shouldn't matter to a 10 year old, and it made me so proud. She sees it too, and she doesn't want to sit around and wait for someone else to fix it. She wants to DO something. I love her so much! She and her brother decided to clean out their closets of things that no longer fit, or they don't need. (We live in TX now...surely we can get rid of half of the 4,374 coats we've got lying around) I won the task of sorting and making sure we don't send any of the less gently used things out.

So again, Screw you Sergio. I've got this situation under control. You knocked me down ~ and it sucked! But you forgot, I'm a Mama. We don't have the option of staying down. We will always find the silver lining, because we have to. And there are little people watching our every move, who do exactly as we do.

Tomorrow, I am going to tear my house apart to find that extra camera. It has to be here somewhere... When we make our trek to the church, I plan to take tons of pictures of the kids dragging their loot to give, and later I'll put together a photo album for the them. When they think back to this Christmas, they'll remember how much fun we're having baking and talking to each other. And, how good it felt to do something for someone else. What they won't remember is Mommy being stressed out and panicked over something that is out of my control.

And, I love you my bloggy friends. The comments and emails I received today were at the same time uplifting, saucy, and hilarious. You guys helped jumpstart my ass out of pity-party mode, and back into gear. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

An open letter to my X

2008-12-09T11:13:00.005-06:00

(I am officially screwed. There goes Christmas. Shit. There goes, EVERYTHING. Without getting too into detail, suffice it to say that the X has struck again. A click of his mouse, and $1500 gone from my world. There's another $1000 floating around that I may or may not eventually receive also.)

Sergio,

Have you completely lost your fucking mind? Have you finally eaten enough pills and swallowed enough booze that your last brain cell fled into the herpes infested night? You are a pathetic moron, and it is my deepest hope that one day you wake up and find the world has left you in a puddle of your own feces and vomit.

I was on track. Doing SO well, and finally proud of myself for being a GOOD single Mom, for not being one of those women who rely on the knight in shining armor to come in and save me. Then you took it all away. Why? What happened? How did you go from wanting to fix our marriage to financially destroying the Mother of your child without so much as an email exchanged between us?

This has been harder than I ever expected. Moving into a home as the only provider for my children, setting us up in this town where we're strangers, being alone every day because my kids come first...and I've fought every step of the way to keep good food on the table, shampoo & soap in the bathrooms, and shoes on my babies feet. There have been days where I've wanted to give up. Just wanted it all to go away because I didn't feel strong enough to face the next mountain, but damn you...I DID IT. Half the time with no car, and 3/4 without a phone. What have you gone without???

Every time I have managed to speak to you, you're coming back from Best Buy, Hatch Cover, Chili's, Rick & Amy's. I haven't once complained. Or called you out for being a selfish son of a bitch. But this takes the cake. You have stolen from my children. Your OWN daughter. And you didn't just screw up Christmas this time.. This time you've screwed it all. It wasn't just money Sergio. It was our LIFE. Our rent, bills, and yes, our Christmas also.

I'm done. I can't even think anymore to write. I think my mind may be taking an unauthorized vacation.

Can you help someone in your community?

2008-12-08T08:14:00.003-06:00

This is a really neat website geared towards directing people who WANT to help, towards those who NEED the help.
I'm really going insane because my kitty is still missing, so I'm not going to write a poignant post which will made you froth over with desire to get off your duff & get out there in your neighborhood and FIND someone to help.
What I am going to say is, 'Tis the Season'...If we can't find it in our hearts right now to give a little of ourselves to someone more down on their luck that we are..then all hope is lost.
Now, I'm going to go bury myself in the kitchen. Banana bread, fudge, & cinnamon candy will help me pass the time until Tigie decides to grace my world with his presence again. And, yes..I'm making this crap to give to someone. There is a church behind my house, and I'm hoping the pastor will help me get it to a soup kitchen somewhere. Don't laugh. Homeless people like cinnamon candy too.

Bettie Page

2008-12-06T12:13:00.005-06:00

The Notorious Bettie Page. Do you know who she is? Do you know that she has suffered with mental illness her entire life? In her late 50's she was jailed for stabbing her roommate (and 2 other people at an earlier date) while claiming that God told her to do so. Although, with the changes in paparazzi, news, & publications, that little fact is much lesser known by the general public, and came to light after so many had forgotten her already.

Bettie Page (or Betty Page as she was legally known)changed the world of pin-up models. She was the first S&M model, and as such gained the attention of the government. After a ban on such prints, most photos of Bettie during that time were destroyed.

Sometime yesterday, I believe, Ms. Page slipped into a coma. Her time here is almost over, and yet her story is still unknown. "The Real Bettie Page: The Truth about the Queen of Pinups" is an unauthorized account of Bettie's life. Though, more truthful (most believe) than the ones she did approve. It is a dark story, told almost in a way that makes you want to dislike the woman.

How many women go through life with mental illness and nothing is done? Either because they are afraid to speak about their feelings, or because they are unaware that the things they feel aren't normal. Bettie Page was flocked by minders who claimed to have her best interests at heart, yet she was still able to stab a woman 40 times because, 'God told her to'.

That was 40 years ago. Mental illness was much lesser known. And, there was a much larger stigma attached to it. That stigma is still there, and it's our fault.
Every time we look at someone and dismiss them as a nut, or a whackjob, or a loon...we are widening the gap. Every woman that hears the words, "You're Crazy!" while she's reeling from emotions even she can't understand, is broken a little bit more. We just took away another chance to help her.

Talk to the people around you. Do you have a friend that you think is dealing with something a little deeper than the usual crap life throws at us? Remind her that your phone works 24/7, Show up at her doorstep with a couple starbucks & a deck of cards, send her an email that doesn't include the header, "FWD". But most of all, simply show her that you have a shoulder for her to cry on and when she says she needs help..Do Something. Don't give up if she does, and she may, hiding and denial are part of the disease. Fight for your friend. You may be the only one doing so.

I need your good thoughts...

2008-12-05T07:29:00.003-06:00

My kitty is missing. I know, to some, it seems silly to get so upset over an animal. He's a part of my heart though, and it's been a rough couple of days without him.
So please, put some of your good wishes in a bubble and send them our way.
And, to my Tigie;

I know how much you love the cold baby boy, but Mommy loves you. So, come home and eat. Then you can go play again.

Love,
Your crying human

Buried...

2008-12-03T23:52:00.004-06:00

I'm sorry. I seem to have lost my mind. Have you seen it? My sanity maybe? No? OK...well, do you think I could borrow yours?
Thanksgiving is over, Christmas is looming, I've got projects piling up left and right that I either don't want to deal with, or I can't deal with, or I'm waiting for the proper go-ahead to deal with..I'd really enjoy putting a match to the thing but I'm afraid I'd set the state on fire. It's that much crap.

Kids have school pageants that require costumes. (Here's an idea..Tell me at HALLOWEEN that my child is going to be a stuffed animal in the play! His teacher hates me.) Turkey #1 needs to be an elf. And, she's like OCD or some shit. She expects perfection. I expect miracles. Somehow, it's going to even out.

I also have a secret project that I've been covertly working on (since last Christmas) that is finally coming to the results stage. Those freakin' results require me to buckle down and do the work, and it's not easy work. I'm immersing myself in my own personal hell all for the sake of what? I'm not sure yet. Maybe nothing. Haha.

I miss you all. I promise I'm slogging through though. If I don't get some of this crap done, the bills won't be paid. The kids refuse to get jobs so I guess it's up to me. Dammit.

Anyway, if you don't hear from me before 2009 please contact the authorities. There's a good chance I'm buried under piles of paperwork, laundry, sewing projects, & notebooks. It might require the jaws of life.

PS. Candy Cane Oreo's are the cure to all that is bad in life. I just had one, and my world is now perfection. Now, I'm going to have 24 more.

I don't know, but I've been told....

2008-11-24T10:20:00.004-06:00

Have you ever had a nightmare that you just can't shake? Or woken up terrified yet, couldn't remember what had scared you so badly? How about a funny dream that kept a smile on your face throughout the day? Or just one that you can't stop thinking of because it was, freakin' weird man.

During my first pregnancy, I developed what I call "Sleep Tuerettes." I would yell things...loudly, that probably shouldn't have been mentioned. Like the time we were at my Grandparents house for a family get-together, and I screamed "Mama!! Shut the F*** UP!!" in the middle of the night. (My Grandmother is a very serious quilter, so there are about 8 full size beds in a huge room, with about 12 of us all bunked down together. So much more humiliating than it sounds at first!)

When I was 19 or 20, I started writing my dreams down. I keep a notebook and pen beside the bed that I use for all sorts of junk. Usually, it ends up being a make-shift To-Do & Grocery List as I tend to remember crucial details just as I'm slipping off to dreamland...but there are times that it's true purpose shines through and I write something important.

This morning, I grabbed the notebook on my way to the kitchen and tossed it on the counter while I got things ready for the Turkeys to wake up. After they'd settled in to eat breakfast, I brought my coffee in to check email and try and wake up a bit more. Not even 5 minutes go by before my oldest comes to me with tears in her eyes. She'd rolled the notebook up and was squeezing it tight in her hands, and frankly, she looked like she wanted to swat me with it.

I asked her what was wrong, and she sputtered, "I..I'm sorry Mommy. Puh Puh-leeeeeze don'tmakemegoto booooooooot caaaaaaaamp!!!!!"
And, it hit me. In my dream, my daughter joined the Army. I woke up and wrote out a list of items I needed to pick up from the store. Underlined, at the top of the page, with stars on each side (my go-to for super important things) were the words, "Alyssa needs for Boot Camp."

Yep. Where's that shrink? Go ahead and sign us up, sir.
What kinds of dreams do you have, and have you ever managed to scar your children with them?

Home Alarm System

2008-11-21T08:27:00.008-06:00

If I had to pick my least favorite part of being a single Mom it would have to be the nights. They are looooong, and dark. They are creepy in way's you can only imagine, and I assure you...my imagination runs rampant. I start jumping whenever one of the animals walks across the wood floor, the sound of a car door is a sign that someone is coming to mutilate my family and leave our bodies to be discovered by the oldest Turkey's friends. The ringing phone is a prank caller who's actually standing outside my window laughing at the stench of my fear.

It's really pathetic. I truly have nothing to be afraid of. Vigilant, yes ~ always. But, to be outright afraid is another thing entirely. I'm a smart woman. I pay attention, and should know better than to vibrate with fear each night. Our house sits on the corner and is 'faced' with another home, or a church on every side. Most would be break-in artists prefer to avoid such obvious targets. I'm also the proud owner of two dogs. Much like weapons, each has his own important purpose.

This is Simon. He is a miniature dobie. Most people know them as min-pins. Simon is the only animal I have ever bought myself. The little buggers truly believe they are the size of an adult dobie, and could rip anyone or anything to shreds. His bark is worse than his bite though, and in 7 years he's never bitten a human. Dogs...well, they should just stay away unless they want to be jumped into his gang.

Simon is my alarm. You can't sneeze in this neighborhood without a growl outta him. And, Lord help you if you park in my driveway...this freak will go nuts. He's an old man now, and has no patience for much of anything anymore. Simon prefers sleeping in my sons bed until noon or 1 o'clock..when I finally go in and roust his out for fear that he'll forget that he's potty trained. Can dogs get Alzheimer's?

This is Juju. Juju is my ~~heart~~ protector. It's a well kept secret (before today) that Juju is worthless. People look at him, and they're immediately scared, so he serves his purpose. But, frankly...he couldn't protect a fly from a from a tape roll. Or wouldn't, I guess would be the better word. His only weapon is his vicious tail that'll leave bruises on your thigh, and his wiggle that'll bowl over even the strongest of men. He's a big freakin' baby who just wants to be around, on, touching you at all times.

I do realize he's a pitt bull. I'm sorry if anyone reading this is offended by the breed. I want to add that before I met Juju, I was the same way. I've done exhaustive research regarding Pitt Bulls, and I am satisfied with what I've learned. I believe that with proper care, and proper vet care we'll have no problems.
As it stands...Juju doesn't know he's a breed of any kind. No clue. He's pretty sure he's my 4th child who just happens to have 4 legs. If he ever figures out the truth, I'm sure Simon will put him back in his place. And really damn quick too.

Currently watching....

2008-11-20T08:00:00.007-06:00

...this. Over & Over again!

This is great. I love the choreography! The dancer up front & center is WOW! amazing.. If I knew who she was, I'd invite her over for dinner and a show! (Think that'd be rude?)

One small step for Mom....A giant leap for Baby!

2008-11-19T11:53:00.007-06:00

My 'baby' turned 2 in August. *ouch* It's been a struggle for me to let go of every step into childhood with her. I nursed until there was literally nothing left, and mourned those lost moments with a heavy heart. The first time she crawled out of my sight, it destroyed me. She can go places without me...waaaaah! Knowing that she's my last baby has forced me to cling desperately to every precious moment in her life. Except for (oh my and how!) potty training. I was ready for that with panties and candy in hand the very second she 'noticed' the toilet!

We're pretty much good to go with it too. She wears diapers to sleep at night, and that's about it. We just recently cut them out at naptime and so far, zero accidents! She's super proud of herself, and it helps that her siblings cheer her on. She knows her panties from her sister's, and is very adamant about which ones she chooses to wear. (FYI~she prefers bug's to even *gasp* Dora!) I'm slightly proud of our accomplishment. It's really adorable to be in the grocery store and hear, "PooPoo Dillars! Now! Now! Now!" Seriously, it is.
As is the case with just about every family, we have our own language for potty training. I enjoy antagonizing her Father, so her Poo is "Stinky Steelers". He didn't quite find it as amusing as I do, but hey...he who does the work, signs the art, right?

Anyhow, this morning Beena got up and tossed her diaper in the trash (ya, I'm lying...she threw it on the bathroom floor. We're not into formalities..) and we went about our day. A while later I heard her in the bathroom saying, "Gewhoa! Gewhoa! Gewhoa!" so I went to investigate, and she'd done her business, and was saying her goodbyes as some small children are wont to do. We cleaned up, and I didn't really think anything else of it.
Until she sat down at the computer to watch a DVD of Diego while I got dressed & whatnot. See. Man. I don't even know if I can describe this correctly, but I'm going to try, cause dang it ~ I haven't stopped laughing in half an hour.

OK, so Diego & his little buddy the Iguana need to get the seeds from the strawberry plants to the town so they can be planted in time for the towns Fiesta. So, the Iguana eats the seeds. They go through a forest, across a pond, around some lily pads...you know the drill. Right before they get to the town the Iguana says to Diego, "Diego, I can't hold the seeds much longer, we need to HURRY!!!!! I have to Gooooooo!" And, Diego jumps on a vine, swings across some alligators and drops the Iguana in a garden where the rows are just waiting for the little green dude to come along, and ~yep, you guessed it~ Poo the strawberry seeds into the ground for planting. Then Diego and his cousin & uncle stand around the field and chant, "GROW! GROW! GROW!" At which time, Beena jumps up and screams, "Gewhoa! Gewhoa! Gewhoa!"

I'm not sure how to explain to her that strawberries won't be shooting out of our septic tank anytime soon. I think this is going to be traumatizing for her. It certainly has been to me!

Circus Freak!

2008-11-16T23:55:00.014-06:00

Blogger gave me hell today, so the trax are on the round player up there there. See it? On the right? Pink & Gray? Yep, that one. Now listen. Unless you're at work. Then too bad for you. :-D

Do not attempt to hold an intervention. I will run. Take my ipods and hide in a faraway mountain with a generator to keep me boppin' to my tunes.
I cannot help it. If you could close your eyes and see what I see when I hear certain songs, you'd totally understand. It's worse than a drug...cause it's legal. And, I can drive and dance at the same time without getting a ticket. Major oversight in the "Protect & Serve" clause there Ossifers. Write your congressman. Or woman.

Anyway, so...Circus leaked. What do you mean, "Circus??"
Duck. I'm throwing things.
If you've been unkind enough to not pay attention to my most guilty obsession, Britney Spears (ahem, get your mouse away from that X RIGHT NOW!) has been promoting the release of her new album. 'Circus'...supposedly out on December 2. But, ~~I'm so cool, I got an un-released copy~~ it leaked online.

To the Jerk who leaked it; BAD BAD person. You are BAD. (Now, come get your cookie!)
And, Oh Em Gee!! It's really great. 'If U Seek Amy' & 'Circus' are definite chart toppers (when they come out). Mannequin is an amazing dance track, and one of those I close my eyes and choreograph the most awesome performances ever. *Pure Bliss*
'My Baby' (written about her sons) will turn you into a big cry-baby sissy poo, and 'Unusual You' is sweet and catchy.
'Mmm Papi' is getting alot of heat because of the guy she supposedly wrote it about, but I like it. I think it's catchy and fun, and frankly if he were that bad for her, Papa Spears wouldn't have allowed the song to be on the album.
Phonography is A-DOR-ABLE. Seriously, her cutest song ever. Listen for is as everyones ringtone in the coming months.

I've got to say, I'm satisfied, and you should be too. After all, it could be worse. I could be blogging that Michael Jackson just released his 'Bedtime for Babe's' Album, and I bought it for each of your children as a stocking stuffer.
If she takes this album on tour and does some promotion for it, she'll be 'back', and love or hate her, you're going to have to deal with her. With any luck, she'll retire before she has Madonnna's arms. Until then, STFU and let me dance!

P.S. That's not the real album cover art...But, I like it better.

Before Iraq

2008-11-14T07:09:00.007-06:00

(Photo of Sergio taken Aug. '06 by SGT Leonard of Bravo Co. 1/68 ~ Baquabah, Iraq)

I don't think it comes as any surprise that I love my husband. States & Separation be damned. I married him because he was everything I'd ever wanted and then some. Because his idea of a first date was carving pumpkins with my Turkeys and ordering pizza so we could all watch movies together cuddled up on blankets on the floor. Because he shared the values I based raising my children upon. And, because every time he knocked on my front door, I was deliriously happy.

The day he left for Iraq, he had to be at his duty station at 5 am. We woke up the Turkeys and bundled them in the van. It was winter and everything was gray & gloomy out. I remember sitting in the dark van waiting on his soldiers to show up before he left and thinking that these would be our last moments together for 12 long months.
What do you say in those moments? He wasn't leaving for college, or going on a long trip. He was going to Iraq. To war. To kill or be killed. I told him that I loved him, and that I would be praying for him every moment. And then, I cried. He left and I sat there and cried. Deep, crushing sobs that woke up my babies and had them climbing into the front seat to comfort me.

The next several hours are a blur. My girl had school, so off she went. My Jen-nay showed up with 2 pictures she'd taken of Sergio with a cell phone and framed for me. We sat on the floor in my bedroom and she told me how he'd pulled her aside a few days prior and told her that he was worried about how I was going to take him being in Iraq. He was worried about me.

When my phone rang at around 10 am that morning, I never expected to hear his voice asking me to get to post As Soon As Possible with.......his keys.
Yep. You can send the boy to war, but you can't make him tie his shoes!
Off I went, happily jingling his keys and for once, glad that he was as forgetful as a 4 year old. Ft. Carson was a zoo that day. Women and children were everywhere in every state of sobbing, and consoling you can think of. It was madness, and Sergio and I found a quiet corner to sit in until he was told to get on the bus that would take them to Petersen AFB where they would board the flight that would fly to Kuwait.
I have no idea what we talked about that day. I remember the feel of his ACU's against my face, and the way they smelled. (Never good..no matter how much fabric softener you stuff in the pockets) I remember being interrupted by nervous looking soldiers and thinking, "He's just a little boy. Surely his Mama's not letting him really go to Iraq. There's a friggin' WAR over there!" And being asked by every other person we saw to, "Please take one last picture of our family."

There was a woman with a small baby who also stayed off to the side by herself. I remember wanting to talk to her..she looked as lost as I felt. And determined not to cry, but I saw her hands shaking when she took their baby from her husband right before he walked away. I saw her stare at the ground determinately and then raise her clear eyes to her husband for one last wave before she turned and hurried from the building. It took every ounce of energy I had, not to run after that woman and hug her. I wanted to tell her that she was just as brave as he is. Letting her soul walk away had to be the hardest moment of her life, and that she is a wonderful woman for holding her composure. For making sure that the last image her husband had of her was one of a smiling, strong face. He could get on that plane knowing that his wife and little baby would make it through the next few months because of her. I still think of her...of them to this day.

After the boys were really gone, I went home and collapsed on my bed. I didn't cry again though. Seeing all the families that were torn apart that day made me realize how fortunate I was to be in the position I was in when he left. We weren't married yet, and I'd already been living alone and was a single parent. The only thing that really changed after he left were the empty nights. My children missed him, but he wasn't their Father and it wasn't a life-style change for him to be gone.
Little did I know...Nine days later, every bit of that would change...

I am...

2008-11-13T09:03:00.007-06:00

I'm a little bit obsessed with my music. For every moment in life, I can name the soundtrack that relates. I love music videos with a passion, and have logged hours on youtube searching for the one that'll make me feel it. One of my least favorite questions is, "What kind of music do you like?" What a broad question. Do you really have 3 or 4 hours to discuss this? I love music. Period. My favorites range from Parkway Drive to David Gray. Beyonce, Britney, Jenny Owen Youngs, Katy Perry, Madonna (back in the 80's where she belonged). I do prefer female artists. I think they're better actresses and can switch it up a whole lot easier than say, Eminem or Fallout Boy could. I like today's music. Don't get me wrong, my itunes is full of classics from Johnny Cash to Ozzy, but I love the anticipation of waiting for a favorite artist's new album to drop. I love the the interviewing process where the artist is inevitably asked his/her inspiration behind the album, seeing how they were made, the entire process from selecting the music to go with the lyrics, to auditioning performers for videos, and watching the numbers rise or fall on billboard lists.

Last night, I got my hands on Beyonce's new album. It's called, 'I am...Sasha Fierce'. You may (or maybe not) have heard the first 2 singles. If I were a boy, and Single Ladies (Put a ring on it). Apparently, it's getting excellent press reviews and those two singles are damn good. But, those two singles are about the only good things on the album. There are two discs with 5 or 6 songs on each. One is titled 'I am'... and the other is 'Sasha Fierce'. Symbolizing the real Beyonce vs. Sasha Fierce, her superstar alter ego. 'I am' is mainly love ballads sang in Beyonce's strong, beautiful voice. But, they bore me and I couldn't sit through any of them in entirety after 'If I were a boy'. (Which is lovely. Slow, strong lyrics, and Beyonce's voice is perfect for the tune.) This is the side she wants her fans to see as the 'real' Beyonce. 'Sasha Fierce' is too raunchy. I do love 'Single Ladies (Put a ring on it)' but after that I just kinda felt dirty listening to 'Diva', and 'Radio'. It's one thing to put yourself in your music...something else entirely to put yourself on a throne and crow about how fabulous you think you are. That is, very simply, annoying.

I loved her last album, 'B-day'. So, it really took me by surprise that this one $ucks as much as it does. And, since I need the space on my ipods (yes..I have 3. They're all full) I'm going to delete all but the first song on each disc. Sorry Queen B. You'll do better next time! A little less ghetto fab & a little more Ring the Alarm...M'kay?

My Boyfriend

2008-11-12T20:49:00.008-06:00

I took this picture about halfway up Pikes Peak mountain right after one of the switchbacks, which was super stupid seeing as I could have been hit by a car barreling down the mountain, but totally & completely worth it!

Today was cloudy and overcast. There was a bite to the air that can only be explained by the damn humidity in Texas. I'm saddened to say that my first thought looking out the window this morning was, 'It's gonna Snow!!!!!" Then it hit me. No snow. Not here. Not real snow. Not ever.
I miss it. I miss my mountains. All summer, I could pretend that this was just a side-trip. But, we're coming up on Thanksgiving and my kids haven't even worn jackets to school yet. Days like this in the Springs meant one thing. Snow. Whether it was a few inches or half a blizzard. The overcast sky rarely meant rain this time of year. If the mountains were 'invisible' you could bet money & win every time.

When I was 18 a couple friends and I decided to move to Panama City Beach, Fl. We made our move right around Spring break, and entered into a party atmosphere the likes of which I've never experienced since.
We lived in a beach house on a street called Front Beach Road. If you've ever been to PCB, you know that Front Beach is the main through way to all the hottest clubs. It was like watching a parade each night, and we'd sit on our balcony and hoot & holler at all the cute guys driving by. I worked at a shop called "Purple Haze" which was also right across the street from the beach. Lunch breaks were spent tanning and work meant flirting with tourists.
A single 18 year old living on the beach with her two best friends, working at one of the coolest stores in town, and partying all night with amazing people...I hated it.

Don't get me wrong, it was an experience I'll never forget and memories were made that I'll cherish forever. But, I'm a mountain girl at heart. Hot weather, and humidity drive me to distraction. As much as I loved my time spent in Florida (2 other loooooooooong vacations since then) to me, the ocean will never compare to a mountain. The view from the top of Pikes Peak, the smells driving through Pike Nat'l Forest, the way you can stand in 2 feet of snow and not feel a chill as long as the sun is shining...

And then, there are the people. Texans are friendly, yes. But DF-Dub is full of pretentious a$$holes, and I happen to look like one of them. People are intimidated by me, and consequently don't make the move to come talk to me. They mistake being shy for being stuck-up. (And, I'm probably guilty of doing the same to them)
Colorado is full of hippies. It's rare to see a woman dressed to the nines at the grocery store, and inhibitions be damned. People talk to you out there. For no reason. Maybe it was the military town, the people who understand Carpe Diem. You may not have another chance to meet that person, she may be gone next week. Either introduce yourself and make a lifelong friend, or watch her husband get transferred to Alaska and kiss that chance good-bye.

I've lived in Texas for the majority of my life. I've traveled a lot, and moved around as much as possible for someone raising children. But, my heart has been in Colorado since I first vacationed there at 23. From the first moment I laid eyes on Cheyenne Mtn, and Pikes Peak right next(ish) to it, I knew that that was where I wanted to call 'home'. At the time, I was working for a law firm in Dallas. They were paying me way too much money, so I eventually packed up ship and moved to the mountains that had been calling my name for a year. I never regretted it.

When I told my Mother that I was leaving my husband, and therefore would be moving back to Texas, her first concern was; "I'm afraid you'll miss the mountains too much and cause even more misery for yourself"
And, I do. Not to the point that I'm miserable, because they surely will be there when I go back. That's the beauty of being in love with a mountain rather than a man. Pikes Peak will never leave. He will always be standing in the last place I saw him. He may be wearing a green sweater, or a brown one, or a white one...but he'll be there. Standing tall in all his glory, welcoming me back to the Springs.

Performance Junkie II

2008-11-11T10:01:00.004-06:00

This made me laugh out loud a few times. P!nk always puts on a great performance, in my most humble opinion. She seems to have lost her 'Give a Damn' a long time ago, and uses that lack of inhibition to put her true feelings out there in a way that makes you think she's a heckofa lot tougher than I bet she really is.
Really, haven't we all wanted to pop someones 'Just Married' balloon at least once? Don't be shy. You can tell me...I won't hold it against you. In fact, I'll make a batch of margaritas and hire a driver so we can go Chapel Huntin'!

My Boy

2008-11-11T08:12:00.008-06:00

This is my baby boy. Tomorrow marks 8 years of my heart literally, outside my body and walking around of it's own accord. Dangerous stuff, this freedom we (as Mothers) are required to allow our own organs.

He'll be 8. To him, that's an entire lifetime. Ages & Ages. While to me, it's nothing. I just found out I was pregnant with him. Remember? No? Hmmm. Well, it felt like it was just a moment ago.
When he was born, my first baby was still a baby. I thought I had it under control. Looking back, I realize just how difficult those first years were. Their Father, while wonderful now, wasn't around then. He umm. Well, he spent some time in prison. And, while he's changed his life (for the most part)and is wonderful now...back in 2000, I was a 21 year old single Mother of 2. I worked nights at a bar so that I was with my children during the day and their Grandparents could watch them while I wasn't there. I'd pick them up at 3 or 4 AM and take them home where we'd all get in my bed and snuggle till cartoons were over around 10.
Like I said, totally under control. That is, until I got pregnant with Turkey #3 and realized that I have very little memory of Turkey #2's pregnancy, infancy, or toddler hood. I don't remember his first steps. I don't remember how long I breastfed him for sure, (only that I stopped after a month or two because he was lactose intolerant and I have weight issues that require massive amounts of dairy.) I don't remember his first words, or the first time he said "Mama."
Chalk it up to pure exhaustion.

There's no doubt that I love that little guy more than life itself. He's an easy kid. He's a great kid. He's also a bit of a genius.
Because we've moved around so much in the past year, I'm not sure what level he's actually reading at right now, (still waiting on testing results from the beginning of the school year...C'mon Folks!) but at the end of last year he was at the highest reading level for the military elementary school they attended. He's scoring 100's on Turkey #1's math tests (online tutoring, the tests can be taken as many times as we want) She's in 4th grade, and we've never taught multiplication to him. I explained the concept to him, and he gets it. Last week he was taking a division test, and missed 2 out of 30 questions. He, very matter of fact, told me that the test was wrong, that the right answer wasn't a choice and that's why he'd had to pick the closest. To be honest, I figured he'd gotten the answers wrong and didn't want to admit it, but we checked anyway. (OK, the calculator on my computer checked. Hmph!)
He was right. Here's the kicker. He's in 2nd grade. They haven't done division. He only took the test to see if he could figure it out. Granted, we're not talking long complicated division here. Easy stuff such as 36 divided by 6, but still. What the hell? So, like I said, the kid is a genius.

No matter what happens, I have my kids. On the bad days, when I'm afraid that I can't deal with life's punches anymore...they're there to remind me to suck it up. I'm very fortunate to have kids that rock. That don't cause trouble, talk back, or set the house on fire.
So ya. Tomorrow the boy turns 8. He wants pizza and a yogurt marmalade cake.

And, you can bet your bottom dollar he's gonna get it.

Excuse me, Mr. President...

2008-11-10T22:47:00.007-06:00

I've played with the desire to write about the election for the last week. I didn't want to because (as proven by the results) my views run the minority, and I'd rather not cause conflict if I don't have to.

All I'm going to say is that I am disappointed.
Fundamentally, I do not agree with many of Barack Obama's platforms. But, I am an American. I support our country, and the people have spoken.

I am angry that military personnel stationed overseas were unable to vote because they didn't receive their ballots in time. It seems to me, those were some pretty important votes and regardless of the landslide they mattered. Someone made a huge mistake that better damn well be fixed in 2012.

That being said, prove me wrong President Obama.

This is what I'm talkin' about!

2008-11-10T14:12:00.003-06:00

Loooooooooove This! The vocals are SO much better than this. Enjoy! You didn't hear this from me. ;-)

Tiger-Jac

2008-11-10T07:59:00.005-06:00

This is Tiger-Jac. Beena's got him in a choke hold because...well, because she's evil. Don't try and make me feel better about it either. I've come to terms and I'm sure it's a phase she'll eventually grow out of. Either that, or she'll channel her energy into becoming the next Stephen King.
Focus! This is about the cat. Do not allow her cute-ness to deter you from my original thought. Which was...was...$hit.

Oh ya, the Cat. Tiger-Jac. Tiger came into our lives by way of my Jen-nay. He was/is her baby. But, I stole him. He's freakin' cool man. Okay, I didn't steal him. Jen had life to deal with and needed a place for him to stay for a while. I hadn't had a cat since my beloved Gypsy jumped off the balcony to go get laid and never came back, so it was a nice change of pace. Then I fell for him, and refused to give him back. (Sorry Jen. I love you lady!) Oh man. This cat is somethin'! He knows. He cuddles when I need to be cuddled, leaves me alone when I need to be left alone, and he doesn't use a litter box! See, he knows how much work I already have to do, so he uses the bathroom outside like a good boy.

As previously mentioned, Beena is evil! Without fail, at least once a day, she grabs Tiger-Jac around the neck and drags him to whatever her destination may be. Most cats would claw the heck out of my precious demon, but Tiger just looks at me with a plaintive look on his face and meows sorrowfully to express his desire for release. His reward for having the patience of a saint?
Plastic milk tops. Yep. I wish everything in life were that simple.

Rants & Raves

2008-11-08T09:23:00.002-06:00

Last night, my Jagerbomb(s) gave me a case of insomnia, so I cruised on over to Craigslist to read the Rants & Raves pages. Below is a 'conversation' I had with an atheist.
Before you read in entirety, please understand that, as a rule, I keep my religion to myself and my home & lifestyle. I have a hard time understanding people who don't believe, yet condemn those of us that do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Original Rant)
I can see why you would believe in a god that doesn't exist but there are people with high IQ's who believe in this story while they have no merit to do so. It is a book people that was written by people who could tell a good story and want to put fear into those who don't believe. Take a look at how much your churches make. They get you to give 10% of your hard earned money and teach you that if you don't live by their rules that you won't make it to "heavens gate". It is the biggest and oldest scam of all time.

Prove to me your god exists with factual proof. You can't. I don't want to hear about faith or stories that you heard, prove it to me. Do you have a picture of him/her? Do you have video? When has he showed up? You have people who are so poor and barely get by and do no wrong, but they pray to god and nothing changes. They die of starvation, they die because they were out in the cold with no shelter, they die because they were murdered for no reason.

Oh, where is your god when this happens?

You are so damn blind, it is pathetic. Believe in yourself and the ones who care about you. There is no god and never has been. Prove it to me. Do you have a mind that uses a thought process. If you did, you would know there is no god.

Why is he so absent for thousands of years? Go ahead and write some verse from the bible. I can write a line from a Stephen King or Bill Maher book, does that make it real?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(My Response)
Why are you so angry at people who do believe in God? What harm does my faith cause you?

I feel sorry for you that you don't understand the peace that Christianity brings me, but I don't condemn you for being an Atheist.
I don't ask you for money when my bank account runs low. I don't cry on your shoulder when a tragedy strikes my family. I don't ask you to bless my food before I serve it to my children...so what's your problem with the Man that I do lean on?

I watch my babies run through our yard and I thank God for giving me the strength to be a single Mother. I prepare our food, and I thank God for the resources available to me. I sleep peacefully at night with the knowledge that whatever the future may bring, I'm capable in God's hands.

Please. If this is a problem for you, aware me of the details. Am I physically hurting you when I hold my children's hands and pray with them? Have the items we donated to the food pantry in the Lord's name given you food poisoning? Are the values we teach our Christian children causing your Atheist children to consider *gasp* GOING TO CHURCH instead of to the local skate & smoke park?

If so, please forgive me. You see, I would never offend you on purpose. I AM a Christian after all.

Another Bombshell.....

2008-11-06T07:00:00.000-06:00

Really? I don't get it. Am I a target of some kind?
The X just called. He wants another chance. To ensure that happens, he's moving to DF-Dub.
Isn't there a limit to the amount of morons this state can handle?
OK, I'm just being hateful. But, I don't understand how he thinks he can just force his way back into our lives. He wants to put a halt to the divorce proceedings because, "we're making a huge mistake'.
Ya, so I thought so too. A year ago. When I begged for counseling.

I'm just getting to a point where I'm proud of the things I've accomplished since I left. I'm happy with my life (albeit, it's crazy and half the time I'm rushing too much to know what's really going on)..but it's MY life. I've created, and endured all the good and the bad that comes from this place.

I'm not sure that I'm ready to be in a position where I have to decide whether or not to give up my freedom.

Me. Me. Me. I. I. I. Mine. Mine. Mine.....I sound like one of the kids. Petulant, and angry because a change is coming that I have no control over. Maybe some coffee will make this seem a little less crazy.

Here & Gone

2008-11-05T08:39:00.002-06:00

It's over. Emotional Roller Coaster... I'm gonna make a song out of that.

I don't know where or how to start. The X called last Tuesday to say he wasn't going to be able to make it. The Army changed his schedule again, and he didn't have anyone to cover down for him.
Breathe. Sigh. Get upset. Get over it.
Cut to Thursday. My phone rang 4 times while I was conferencing with a client online. Finally answer it. The X wants to know if I'll "be around" later. Cause he's in the car. On the way. Here.
Panic. Breathe. Get annoyed. Get the house clean.
It was strange. Beena didn't know who he was or why he kept trying to hold her and kiss her. She's gone through a stage of calling every male she sees "Daddy"... so it wasn't hard for her to call him by name.

Grrr. I just can't deal with him. He IS an emotional roller coaster. While he was here, it was all about Beena. Heartfelt conversations about how much he's missed out on. How much he's missed her. Then he's gone and..just, gone. No phone calls. No emails.
His attention span is that of a 5 year old child.

The VA is requiring him to be treated for PTSD in order to receive disability for his injury. Thank you VA!!!!!!!!!
It's about time that someone else recognized the need for treatment. I'm a bit infuriated that his wife wasn't listened to during the crash of our marriage. The phone calls to his commanders that went ignored, meetings with chaplains where promises were made that never came to fruition, letters to the FRG, and Post Commander that wasted my time and brain power...
He's also being treated for something else that I'd always thought was Sergio's way of 'getting out of it'...
Apparently, there really is some short term memory loss. I can't tell you how many fights started with, "But, I told you..."
So, on that one I'll say this, "My bad"

We dressed Beena up in her Steelers outfit and bought 4 huge bags of candy in anticipation of the neighborhood hordes showing up. The older Turkeys went to their Dad's where all 4 of them dressed as pirates. (Much as I hate to admit it...they were a cute 'lil pirate family!)
Sergio left at about 8 pm after getting a phone call from the soldier who was covering his shift. Apparently, the guy's wife can't stand S. and wasn't losing her husband on his day off for him. (Ya, I've been there) So, he had to make a mad dash back to Colorado in order to get a few hours sleep before he had to work a 24 hour shift.

And, just like that...it was over. I was left with a baby dressed up for Halloween, and no-one to take her trick or treating. (I have a real problem with an empty house on Halloween night...I feel like I'm disappointing children and it hurts my heart too much to swallow.)
So, Beena and I danced around the living room, played our music waaaaaaaaaaaay too loud, and Mommy had waaaaaaaaay too much (really good) wine.
We didn't get a single trick-or-treater. I guess all the kids in the neighborhood knew that The A's were going to be in Flower Mound and didn't think (?) I'd have candy. We passed out goodie bags when the older Turkey's got home to make up for it, which saved my Mommy Soul.

Last night, my baby boy came into my room about an hour after he'd gone to bed. He was crying gut-wrenching sobs, and told me he wanted to move back to Colorado. He misses his friend, he hates it here.
We talked for a while about what it would mean if we were to move back to CO. We'd lose the friends we'd made here (ok, so I meant them...it's not as though I've really branched out). We wouldn't be as close to his Dad and the weekend visits would come to an end, and his friend (darling Gabriel) is an Army Brat...which means his life in Colorado is tenuous at best. They could be transferred at any moment with no choice but to go where the Army sends them. Just like we were when we were Army Brats.
I moved the wii to his bedroom last night because he wanted to play the new Lego Indiana Jones game, and Turkey #1 wanted to watch election updates (seriously. She's that cool!) and that triggered his memories of hanging out with Gabriel. (The pic is of Gabriel & his sister Jade) Gabe & his family lived next door to us on post. The place where my nightmares came true. I went through hell there and his Mother held me up. Her name was Maritza, and I miss her as much as my boy misses Gabriel.

Life changes and we evolve into adults based on how we react to those changes. My job is to steer my children in the direction that I hope they'll take. I hope the Turkey takes the memory of a wonderful childhood friend, and maybe this is a friendship that can last throughout the years. Maritza and I exchange emails and IM fairly often...without a doubt, it's time to get the boys in on the mix instead of just calling him in when I get a funny picture of G.

And now...its back to the grind. I'm SICK of log...wood...the color brown...google...and hello???? $50 for rights to use an image I can make with photoshop??? Jeez. Guess I'll spend 34 hours glued to that program tonight a$$wipes.

My website is up and running, albeit unfinished. Payge Diana Designs
Comments? Suggestions?

Worst Blogger Ever

2008-10-25T10:51:00.006-05:00

I've chosen to not write for the past week. I've thought about it several times, and determined to put it out of my mind until I could sort myself out. Not quite there yet.
I'm not sure what's going on. A separation of mind and belief? I am, for once, caught up on bills. The house is stocked with groceries, and 'stuff'....I even bought myself new glassware & serving bowls for the kitchen. There's cash in my wallet, money in the bank, and more income on the way. The kids are fine. The week with their Dad went well, and I came back to a relatively unscathed home.

The X still has plans to see his daughter on the first of November (has anyone else noticed? That's just a week away!) and is acting strange. Lots of jokey emails, phone calls that last for hours. Last night, he asked to speak to Beena. Never. I've heard him complain about soldiers wives who force the kid on the phone and the soldier is left standing there with no idea of what his child is saying. It was surreal for him to ask, and even more so when I could hear him laughing up a storm at her gibberish.

He wants to take us shopping while he's here to stock up on winter clothes and shoes for her. He wants to put me back on his cell phone plan so that I'll have reliable phone service instead of using a pay as you go phone the way I've done since I left him and he turned off my cell. He's bringing additional money to add to my car fund & is planning on staying in Colorado after he's officially released from duty. (That's a big one...he always wanted to move to the East coast, and I couldn't fathom the idea of being so far away from my family once we were able to choose our location)

If I don't post...it's because I don't know what to write. I feel emotionally challenged right now.
I'm sorry, and I hope you'll forgive me.
It'll get greater later!

I'm a good 'lil worker bee!

2008-10-19T22:31:00.004-05:00

I've been so dadgum busy....I've built two websites in the past 4 days.
Oh. My. Freakin'. Eyes.

We finally got home tonight about an hour and a half ago, and I suddenly realized I hadn't posted anything in days. I thought about it...many times. Just couldn't stop tweaking and tuning long enough to get 'er done, if ya know what I mean.

Tomorrow I will (I will! I WiLL!) post pictures and a long lovely blog about my happenings at the folks. Some of it funny, some sad, some downright disgusting. You'll want to eat before you stop by. Unless you're a Mom. Then, you've seen worse.

For now, please enjoy our version of "Redneck River-Rafting" (If you can't tell, we tied a rope around him to pull the girls on their 'boat' and he's standing...not swimming. The dam was open so the water was quite shallow!)

Wait!! Don't go yet!!!! Check this out first, and remember...it's a work in progress, so be nice!
(I've still got to add pictures that I couldn't access from my Mom's house, and change pretty much all of it. My biggest fear was the publishing part as that's the part my old partner used to do. The design is my forte, and now that I've gotten past my fear, I can focus on that) The other website is still waiting on the host...serves me right for not using the same for both....

Got Tagged!

2008-10-13T13:34:00.005-05:00

Since, I've been at my Mommy's house, I've been regressing. I suddenly feel the urge to tattle when anyone makes me mad, I'm eating copious amounts of comfort food, sleeping in, ohhhh...I could really get used to this.

In keeping with theme, I've been tagged. And, I didn't even hear anybody say they were "It." That's sort of like cheating isn't it? It is!!! MOMMY!!! It was HER!

Here are the ruley-rule-rules. Don't expect me to follow them to the T, cause I'm in my teenage phase at the moment and am feeling particularly rebellious.

The rules:
1. Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog.
4. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

I'm a nomad. I get really bored after a couple of years in one place and have to move. It makes for an interesting lifestyle at times, but one I've had to tame since I'm now supposed to be all grown up and responsible and $hit.

For my 23rd birthday my girlfriend and I had matching butterfly's tattooed. Her's is on her neck. Mine is a secret.

In my fantasy world, one of the gazillion songs I've written is picked up by a major artist, and I only find out when I turn on the radio and hear my words being sung in a heavenly voice. Then, I go home and find a check for a hundred billion dollars in the mailbox. Sweet 'eh?

I really want some cider donuts today. It's become an affliction, and I can't think of anything else. Thanks for that!

I'm listening to crickets chirping, birds singing, the wind rushing through the trees, and an occasional splash from trout (I hope) in the river. You're jealous..aren't you?

I worry too much

Love, love, loooooooove True Crime stories. I'm obsessing over the Changeling right now. (Though, from what I've read, the movie is highly fictionalized from the 'true' story)

And, that's it. 7. That was a whole lot harder than it actually looked. And, since I'm from a generation of slackers, I'm not going to tag anybody. (really..I just don't think anyone knows who I am and am too afraid of rejection to try.) (Really, who are you kidding? Rejection? Whatevs!) (Really, it's all kinda true. hehehehehehe)

Oh ya, and a shoutout to my homie on the Midland P.D. who welcomed a brand new baby boy into the world on MY birthday. Over eight pounds. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. Next time, might I recommend a little less miracle grow? Oh ya, and get your wife a spa day. NOW! I said, MOVE BOY!!

Nectar for the soul.....

2008-10-13T13:18:00.004-05:00

Twenty-Nine

2008-10-11T23:11:00.000-05:00

Want that cake. No. I need that cake. Could it possibly taste as wonderful as it looks?
Ahhh...another form of art for me to obsess over. Wonder if I could make that in my kitchen.

I'm at my parent's house. We're safely ensconced in the little bedroom that I've claimed as mine, with my Beena sleeping so peacefully next to me. She doesn't know it, but she's been kissed about a gazillion times since she fell asleep. She's so beautiful.

It's been a crazy day. Between dog fights, lost keys, and an insane amount of coffee...I'm exhausted. My birthday gift from my Mom was a bag with plates, napkins, balloons, streamers, and all the other fun stuff so that I can "throw myself a party." Hey. Don't judge. She asked for (and received) rocks for her birthday. I'm lucky she didn't give me a glass jar full of dirt and tell me to save it for my Great-Grandchildren. (now there's a get rich-later scheme. Collect dirt. Someday, that stuff'll cost more than fuel!)

My brother and I almost immediately got into a heated debate over the election. That lasted right up to the point that I thought he was going to have an aneurysm. Good Times, I tell ya. Good Times.

My parents house isn't very big. My bedroom is caddy-corner to my brothers room and off the hall from the living room. I can hear my Dad watching his Western (Loud! When will someone convince him that he needs hearing aids???) And, my brother listening to music on his computer in his bedroom. My Mom's asleep (because it's late, and she's been up with babies all day) and I feel wonderful. I miss Turkey's #1 & #2...but I know how happy they are with their Dad.

So, here we go. Day 1 of 7. Get ready to be bombarded by everything log homes. Tomorrow, I'm making my Mom take me to the office to check out the computer systems there. I need to know what kind of memory I'm working with and what kinds of changes are going to have to be made before I can sit down and write out a detailed plan of what I'll need to accomplish this week.
I may not have time to write much, but I promise to keep up as best I can. This week will be the hardest. We have to figure out exactly how much work I can do from home and how much time I'll actually have to spend here in Oklahoma.
For the Turkey's...I'm hoping for a 10 to 12 day period once a month. Just me though? 24 days per month oughta cut it. Maybe a few more...

I LOVE MY MOMMY!

You knew it was coming.....

2008-10-10T22:07:00.001-05:00

.......didn't you?

Jekyll & Hyde

2008-10-10T07:29:00.005-05:00

Yesterday, as I was breezing through my day with naught a care in the world (hehehe) I got an email from the X.

X: "Hey can you call me please? It's really important"
Queen Mommy: "Nope. Sorry. Only have email at the moment as my phone is on the fritz...whats up?"
X: "It's too much to write. Just call when you can"
QM: "You ok?"
X "Yes"

So, a few hours later, I gave him a call. He did this "hold on, hold on" routine where I could hear him scrambling in the midst of the barracks to get somewhere private to talk. I'm almost positive I heard a joke directed at him about his current sex life, which sounded quite optimistic for him!

He finally gets somewhere semi-quiet and this is what he had to say,
"Um, I don't remember what I needed to talk to you about...(insert much hemming & hawing here)...oh yea, do you think you could meet me halfway between there and here in a couple weeks so I can see Corrina? I'll pay for your gas and a hotel room for the weekend. No cute stuff...we'll get two beds"

What? You haven't so much as asked about her in 5 months. Now you want me to drive for 6 hours with a child who doesn't even know who you are anymore? You're insane man. Go back to the bar...have another drink.
I should have said that. Instead I said that I would think about it.
Of course, as with everything else in my life, this isn't an easy decision. If I go, I take the risk of leaving with a broken heart. Not because I have expectations, those have been gone for some time. But, because I don't want to feel what I felt before I left him. I don't want that ache in my chest that makes it difficult to breathe. I don't want to cry all the way back home because I know my marriage is over. I've already been through that. I cried for 12 of a 13 hour trip. Basically, if I wasn't stopped at a gas station or rest stop...I was bawling. Why do it to myself again?

Well, here's why. The kid. This man and I created her together. She has a right to know him. To love him, and maybe she can help him.
Maybe she can't. Maybe this is all BS, and he's going to bail in a week or two anyway. Maybe I'm getting all discombobulated and screwy in the head for no reason.
But, what if he puts her in his car and drives away? What rights to I have? None. At least, none that will get her back immediately. If that's his plan, then I'm willing to bet there are already plane tickets purchased to get him to PA as fast as he can. And, yes...there is an airport in the town he wants to meet in.
My Mom wants me to go...but, take my Dad.

I sent him an email asking if he would prefer to fly into DF-Dub...I can pick him up from there and he can stay at my house for the weekend. That way, he has no vehicle to take off with her in, and his only ride back to the airport would be me or a $60 taxi-cab (which would be hella easy to stop if he tried to run with the kid...suckers have dispatch. So do cops.)
I didn't get much sleep last night for thinking about this. Totally threw me for a loop. I hate loops.

The season for change...

2008-10-09T10:58:00.007-05:00

I don't want to mess with whatever powers that may be out there tweaking things here & there to make my life a bit easier. So, I'm hesitant to take a deep breath and accept that things may actually be taking a turn for the better.
But, I think they are.
It seems like each day is bringing more and more good news, positive reinforcements, and opportunities for me to better our lives.

Last night I got the news that a chunk of cash that's been "missing" since June, will be arriving on my doorstep in 3 weeks.
As you know if you've been following along, I just chose to split my time between my home here in DF-Dub and the business my Grandfather, Mother, & Father run in Oklahoma.
For that, I'll need something a bit more efficient than the 1995 Buick Skylark I was able to purchase after my husband ceased payment on the 2007 Mitsubishi Gallant that he agreed to pay in lieu of child support. (Let me condense a really long story; I sold my paid off nice mini-van, bought him a motorcycle and caught up on his car payments when he got behind last year, I had no vehicle and no choice but to agree with him & got severely screwed. Never trust an X)
Anywhooo, This chunk of cash that's coming is going to purchase a car that will make the 5 hour trip to Mommy's house without fear of it falling apart while I motor down the freeway. I am not kidding. It's also going to purchase a TomTom or something to go in the new(er) car. Cause, I have been so damn lost since the Skylark had the audacity to come without navigation.

Could I get screwed and this money never show up? Yep. Might it show up and be a significant amount less than I expect? Absolutely. It's coming from the X. My expectations are very low. However, this money is also money that he cannot claim he didn't receive, or he receives less than what we expect. The amount was known almost a year ago, and while he may try and pull something shady...he's got to know that we will eventually be going to court, and that he will be required then to provide all the cash he's jilted from me since I left him. (The amount is staggering, and would make your jaw drop. Especially considering all of his needs are paid for through the military, and his paychecks are just fun money to him.)
I keep good documentation, in the hopes that someday, someone will require him to explain his rationale. I don't even care so much about the money. I've made it this far... I want an explanation as to how he could do it to his child. I pray for a court psychiatrist to be appointed, and for that psychiatrist to finally see what I see. The man has no emotions. Unless he's on a high of some kind, he feels nothing.

This isn't about the X though. This is about me and making it. If he comes through without trying to one-up me, or make me literally pay for leaving him again, we're going to be better than ok sooner than I'd hoped. (Not sooner than I'd planned, because this shit should've been done a loooooong time ago)
Saturday is my birthday. I'm asking all my bloggy friends to send up a little prayer that all the little details behind this cash go well. That nothing interferes and we're able to purchase a vehicle that I can place my baby seat in without a twist in my tummy telling me the thing isn't safe.
I'm also asking that each of you drink some nice wine, or open a beer, or knock back a Jagerbomb for me. At least one. Maybe ten. Or fifteen. Don't go overboard though! ;-)

Poli-ticks

2008-10-08T15:36:00.006-05:00

You know what? I just deleted a post that I spent an hour and a half typing because it doesn't need to be out there.
Writing out what I liked and disliked about each candidate and reading it myself, made me realize that I'm not sure who I want to vote for. I thought I knew, but a conversation between a Grandfather and his Grandson this morning, made me doubt myself. The funny thing is, what I heard only made me more staunch in my choice at first. But, I came home and in the course of writing...did some fact checking.
Not only was I wrong, but the Grandfather was telling his Grandson lots of things that weren't true at all. Was it because he didn't do his fact checking? Probably. But, the kid didn't know that. And, neither did I. I saw this man, who was speaking about his service in Vietnam, and how his generation did things differently, and I simply believed that he knew what he was talking about. That he wouldn't spout off information that he didn't know to be true.
My mind isn't changed~yet. I think I'll still vote for the candidate that I've believed in all along. But, I'm beginning to wonder how many things that have helped form my decision are really true. If you knew me, you'd be shocked to know that I just admitted that. Jen-nay, they haven't gotten me...don't worry. But there's a light..way up there~ See it? No? Sonofabeatch. Maybe they have gotten me.
Not much longer. I've got lots more fact checking to do...

Torture

2008-10-08T12:08:00.006-05:00

OK. Give. Her. Back.
It's been 3 days. I need my baby. I'm not cool with this anymore. I know she's having a great time chasing turtle's (Tuk? Where go Tuk?), and splashing in the River with her Pawpaw and bestfrienemy. But, uh...please?
It's waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too quiet out here. There isn't anyone demanding to watch Diego on the computer even though there's a perfectly good 42" television in the next room. There's no one to remind me 467 times a day that the "boobus" is coming to bring "Bubba."
No-one asking for food then throwing a temper tantrum when I make her eat. No-one slathering herself with make-up products then washing herself off with my favorite silk shirt. No-one to put each morsel of dog food into the water bowl so it's softened enough to eat.
The worst part? No kisses, no hugs, nobody climbing into the chair behind me and tickling me on the neck. No-one sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night and forcing me to cuddle with her dirty, stinky, dirt-trodden woobie.

*Sigh*

How many more days 'till this torture is over?

Personality through portraits

2008-10-07T20:48:00.003-05:00

I sometimes do these types of things to pass the time and laugh at how inaccurate they actually are. This one was dead on. Surprisingly, when I read through the pages at the end...I really felt like it was talking about me.
Try it out, and let me know if yours is as good a match for your personality as mine was!

Yaaaaawn

2008-10-06T12:30:00.004-05:00

Holy...What happened?...Where am I? Who am I? Whuz goin' on here?
I just got out of bed. No, I'm not sick. No, noone has died. No, there hasn't been a catastrophic emergency that had laden me with fear and reduced to a crumbling mess of nerves and therefore I stayed in bed to wait out the bad times like an old Victorian lady...though, that might be cool.
Nope. Just slept in. Till Noon.
Let me clarify, I did get up at 6:30 as usual to wake up the older Turkey's. But, as I was pulling the box of cereal out of the pantry for their breakfast of champions, Turkey #1 says, "Mom, you never have a morning without Corrina, why don't you go back to sleep and I'll let you know before we get on the bus." (That child is friggin' amazing, I tell ya!)
It is unbelievable what a full night (and half the day)'s sleep can do for you.
The wind is blowing outside, and my chimes sound beautiful. There's a cool breeze coming in through the open windows, that smells heavenly. The dogs are chillin' out peacefully, and I haven't heard a baby cry in 24 hours.
Someone come pinch me so I'll know this is real.

Steppin' Up

2008-10-06T02:07:00.005-05:00

My folks are in the log cabin business. My Mother & Grandfather run the sales and building side of things and my Father does the restoration. (Please excuse all the shameless link plugging...but I want you to love log homes as much as we do, and subsequently purchase one of the beauty's and ~~help fund my children's college educations~~ fall in love every time you pull into your drive.)
Anyway, back to my original thought...um, what the heck was my original thought? Oh yea, Log Homes and How They're Changing My Life.

My brother and I are both going to work for my parents off & on for a while. He's gone ahead out to Oklahoma with our baby daughters while I get things sorted out here. I'll be headed back to the river on Friday (if all goes as planned), and the older Turkeys will stay here with their Dad and StepMom-ish. Yes. Here. In my home. My sanctuary. The place where no one can hurt me or give me grief. And, I've invited the enemy to sleep in my bed (ew. ew. ew. ew.) and gave them the responsibility of getting my children to school. Making sure they have their homework before they leave in the morning. Brushing their teeth!!!
One of the reasons the judge gave me custody in the odd situation we were in, was because Turkey #1 almost failed Kindergarten. (Texas doesn't require K, so we were able to sneak past the system. Because it wasn't her fault.)
She was absent or tardy more than 65 days of the school year. And by tardy, we're talking 10 or 11 in the morning. I'm sorry, but no 5 year old should be responsible for getting herself up, fed, dressed, ready & off to school without an adults help.
(I was working at a law firm with very demanding hours. Lived in a crappy area. His parents have loot and live in an exclusive neighborhood with an amazing school, so the kids stayed with him during the week)
I've had custody since then, and both kids are doing fabulous in school. (I'll brag on that in another post.)
I believe, cause I can be an optimist, that they've grown up and know better. That they'll be able to wake up long enough to get done, the things that need to be done. Then go back to sleep till the Turkeys get home from school.
We're going to try it for a week. I don't know if or how it's going to work out, but I'm preparing myself by knowing that this is a hell of a lot better than hiring some random person to care for the lives of two of my favorite people.
I know that the kids will be safe and taken care of. I know that they won't be ignored, or abused. If that means I have to let them stay in my house, use my bathroom, be together *ugh* in my bed (then burn the sheets and sanitize the mattress) and all that, then so dang be it.
But let me warn you now. If that hootchie Mama so much as scratches any of my cookery, I promise, it will be all out WAR.

My Mom wants me to be there, and that's the biggest reason I want to go. After all that this year has brought, I can be so grateful that it's brought me (literally) closer to my Mom. Instead of emails talking about our lives, we're getting to live them together. I know my parents want me to move to Oklahoma. They've both all but begged for it. They want this company to thrive because the name Heritage means more than just a brand. (I know this also sounds like shameless plugging, but it is the honest to God truth) The homes, and the company that my family is involved in are meant to be passed down from generation to generation. My parents want to be retired. They would love nothing more than to see my brother and I run the restoration side of the company. My Dad would love nothing more than to spend his days with his baby Granddaughters down by the river chasing turtles, and counting fish.
But, my kids have been in so many different schools already. Leaving Sergio, the military...that was all supposed to bring a stop to things. I promised to settle them, and I can't break a promise to my children. I have to stick it out here for a while.

Ugh. I hate being conflicted. It would be so easy to just go to my parents. Let my Mom take care of me for a while. Take a break. Enjoy the peace and quiet. Rake in the dough, and stash most of it away...

Sorry for the off topic, random, back & forth post tonight. My brain is on overload....

Till Death (or drugs) Do Us Part...

2008-10-04T23:46:00.007-05:00

Today was harder than most. Today, I miss my husband. Before Iraq. Before all the pain, drinking, fights and drama. I miss being able to cuddle up with him and feel like the world was going to be all right.
No matter what happens, for a while; I loved him. He was my knight in shining armor...in fatigues. He made me feel like the most beautiful, fabulously important person on Earth. We only got married after he begged me to give life with him a chance. His persistence only made me love him more.
I honestly believe, had he never been to Iraq, our marriage would still be intact. He wouldn't feel the need to punish himself for doing things he inherently felt were wrong. He wouldn't drink to drown out the voices telling him that he made a mistake.

Sergio was injured playing football on a "morale day." After his tour of duty was over, he had surgery and was unable to re-deploy with his company. The soldiers he'd trained would be facing some of the toughest provinces of Iraq without him. They would be led by someone else.
He failed them.
In their tenure during the deployment of 2006, the Infantrymen of Bravo Co. 1/68 captured (or killed) more insurgents than any other deployed group at the time. My husband was proud of the job he was doing for our country. More than that, he was proud to be a soldier. Truly. He was groomed as a solder, raised as soldier, he was always supposed to be a solder.

I thought things were going to be ok when he came home. He would stare at Corrina in awe of his little person and ask me, "Do you think she's happy here?" "Do you think she knows how much I love her?"
He was so gentle with her, so curious about all her little movements. He wanted to see her crawl, and walk. He couldn't wait for the day that he could take his little playmate outside and have fun.
But, somewhere between there and here he got lost. He found out that his knee would require not just one, or two, but three different surgery's. He developed infections, and was in quite a bit of pain. Through that, he became addicted to Percocet. He was being prescribed 50 pills and they were being refilled every week. Sometimes more. For months after the pain should have been gone, he kept popping those pills. When his doctor refused to prescribe more, he stole them from our neighbor. Or, bought them from friends who'd had similar surgery's but didn't require the pain pills for them.
In November, I lost a baby. After I came home from the dnc, I left my purse and bag of prescription medicine on the dining room table and went straight to bed. Several hours later, I woke up for dinner to a beautiful bouquet of flowers and 5 of my Vicadin gone from the bottle.
Even knowing the emotional and physical pain I was in, my husband stole the medicine the doctor prescribed to me.
His addiction petered out once he realized that people were talking. Still, to this day as far as I'm aware, if he sees a pain pill he starts complaining that his knee hurts.
How very 'Army Wives' of us, 'eh?

I don't know the exact moment where I realized that my husband had an addiction. I know that his Mother warned me that he had the personality to become addicted. To alcohol, drugs, pills...whatever. She did warn me. But, when I called her for help; she brushed me off. Told me that I needed to take my children to church. That God was punishing me through Sergio for not being the wife I took vows to be. She warned me that if I didn't start going to church every Saturday, (they're Church of God, they believe the Sabbath falls on Saturday and not Sunday) that my marriage would continue to deteriorate until there was nothing left to save.
When I asked her why she couldn't talk to her son about his problem she told me that it was between her son & God, and she wouldn't intervene.
Instead, she bought him a plane ticket to go 'home' to PA for the holidays. Just him. He left the kids and I alone for 30 days over the Christmas season. His family doesn't celebrate Christmas as a holiday Per Se. I was once told that having a Christmas tree in my home was blaspheme and that I was teaching my children to disobey God. So, even though he'd previously promised me that he wouldn't be a "Grinch," and he would celebrate the holidays as a time for family, food and fun...he left. He spent over a grand on liquor, & beer and fun money in the month that he was there, while the kids and I scrimped just to get by.

I truly believe that he uses pills and booze as a way to forget Iraq. To numb the pain of the friends he lost, and the lives he took. Before Iraq, Sergio was full of life. Happy all the time. After a while, he was only happy when he was on something. Part of me thinks that he killed our marriage as a way to punish himself for whatever he did. He's told me so little about the things that happened. And, he tells them in a way that make you feel excited at the progress being made over there. He speaks proudly, animated and even boastful at times. But, I saw him when no-one else did. I saw the times that he drank alone and watched video's of troops being bombed in Iraq on youtube. I listened while he railed and ranted about the people being killed because they weren't being vigilant enough. And, I held his head in my lap the very few times he let himself cry over his mixed up and despondent emotions.

It's been 5 months since he last saw his daughter. 5 months since he heard her voice, or smelled her hair. He's cut her out of his life because I left. In so many ways, I feel that I failed him. Us.
But, I had to get my children out of a volatile environment. Things weren't getting better. Counseling didn't help. Being military certainly didn't help. I wish I could have helped him. I wish I would have done more, or tried harder. But, even now, I don't see any options that I missed.I feel like I'm the only person who sees what has happened to the real Sergio, but he won't let anyone else close enough for the truth. He stays jolly and happy until he's alone and can brood in silence. His family believes that God will sort it out. The minister that married us believes that his Mother knows best. His Commanders believe that he passed all the reintigration testing and therefore the matter should be closed.

I am a wife who lost her husband to Iraq. He didn't die, but he's just as lost as if he did.
I miss him. And, I will always love him. I wish he knew that.

P.S.
This is probably the one and only post I'll ever write where I outline the X in a decent light. The things he does angers me so much that I rarely have moments to reflect on the true reason for our demise.

Relatively Speaking

2008-09-30T12:56:00.000-05:00

We've got house guests.

My brother & his daughter are going to be staying with us indefinitely. Um. Indefinitely. That sounds serious. It's not that serious. I don't think. The economy sux. Times are hard. We're both currently single & our kids are related. So, after discussing it for months he finally gave up his rathole apartment (I never saw a rat...but it wasn't pretty.)
The kids are having a great time, and I love having my niece here. Don't tell anybody, but she's kinda my favorite. Shhhhh...
Lilly-Pie is 10 weeks older than Beena-Baby, and they're supposed to be BFF's. Cause we want it that way. They've voted the other direction though, and basically told us to cram it where the sun don't shine. So, it's been 5 days of fighting, toy stealing, tears, outright tantrums, & other loveliness that I'm sure you're so jealous of you can't sit still right now. Right? Right? Hello? Where did you go???
On top of the little bullies...Lilly-Pie has strep throat. She isn't one of those sweet lil babe's that take medicine and make a scrunched up face and you kiss her cheek and give her a sucker for being such a good girl! Hell. No.
Think the Exorcist. Only in a two year old child's body, and instead of green spit substitute bright a$ pink $40 prescription medicine. Kid contorts her body into such shapes you imagine she's breaking herself. Scary.
They are into, on top of, & destroying everything in sight and between me and you...I'm loving every minute of it.
I really am a Mom. Through and through. While I enjoy 'naptime'....I always spend the last half hour or so wondering how long it's going to take the kiddo to get up and keep me company. If the house is too quiet, I feel alone. Don't know what the heck I'm gonna do when these Turkey's decide to grow up and get lives of their own. Probably bribe them to live with me. With cookies.

P.S. ~ Sorry for the old picture...he didn't bring my camera. Jacka$$

Here's Your Sign

2008-09-30T09:52:00.005-05:00

I am not the smartest person in the world. Although, I like to think of myself as savvy and resourceful the reality is that I live in a truly chaotic world created solely by moi.
Yesterday, I realized that the grass on the side of the house had turned into a veritable field of weeds. These are the moments when I curse being single. I'm not going to go into detail. Mostly because I would like to keep you in the mindset that I've got a few working brain cells and use them as necessary. But, also because my hand still hurts like the dickens and I don't feel like typing very much.
I burned the pinkie and middle fingers of my right hand on the muffler of the lawnmower. There. I said it. Laugh. C'mon. You can, I won't be upset. Well, too upset anyway.
I've got two spots that are second degree burns and the rest are light first degree that really just itch like crazy. The 'spots'. Oh. My. Gosh.
I won't keep this up, because I'm no crybaby...but I am going to soak my hand in icy saltwater.

Performance Junkie

2008-09-29T21:13:00.001-05:00

So, I had a post planned out for today and instead ended up in the hospital with 2nd degree burns on my right hand. I'd explain, but too many people have already laughed at me. Plus, typing us a pain in the rear.
I've been you-tubing to pass the time, and found this old Pepsi commercial that fully feeds the performance junkie in me. Enjoy, and check back later...I'll detail my idiocy for you so you can laugh at me too!

My First Bloggy Award!

2008-09-27T22:39:00.005-05:00

One of my favorite daily reads awarded me my first Bloggy Award. Thanks SO much! It's neat to know there's one or two people out there who stop by now and again to pick through my brain matter. :-)
Of course, like all good things, this one comes with conditions. Which I am happy to oblige with...so here's your meme, and Thanks again!

(One words answers only)

1. Where is your cell phone? kitchen
2. Where is your significant other? HA
3. Your hair color? natural
4. Your mother? rocks
5. Your father? fish
6. Your favorite thing? babies
7. Your dream last night? forgotten
8. Your dream/goal? independence
9. The room you're in? bedroom
10. Your hobby? cooking
11. Your fear? tragedy
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? relaxed
13. Where were you last night? home
14. What you're not? patient
15. One of your wish-list items? book
16. Where you grew up? Texas
17. The last thing you did? forced
18. What are you wearing? pajamas
19. Your TV? loud
20. Your pet? chill
21. Your computer? works
22. Your mood? tired
23. Missing someone? always
24. Your car? crap
25. Something you're not wearing? ring
26. Favorite store? Target
27. Your summer? stressful
28. Love someone? Lots
29. Your favorite color? green
30. When is the last time you laughed? minutes
31. Last time you cried? days

The other rule is you're supposed to pass this on to seven people...and frankly, I don't know seven people who have any idea that I exist. I'm kind of a nomad that way. So, look to your right. See my coffee break list? If you're on there...you deserve this award. Cause I stalk you daily. So, grab your bling, do the meme and get back at me(me). mmkay?

Alec the Highlander

2008-09-27T20:13:00.002-05:00

This video was made by a friend of ours quite some time ago.
It depicts Turkey #2 as "Alec the Highlander" and Turkey #1 as "the Villain"........you can also hear Turkey #3 wailing in the background at one point. I believe she was only about 5 months old or so at the time, so she was most likely wailing for boobage. TMI? Sorry. My bad.
It's a great video and one that makes me laugh because it's so indicative of their true personalities. Watch, and see!

Also, please excuse the spelling of "coming" at the end, and understand that it was truly a typo on behalf of the guy who created the video. He's a bad A$$ soldier, and I'd trust him to protect my children in the line of fire....In a spelling bee ~ not so much.

Enjoy!

Alec the Highlander

Lollipop ~ U must mistake me for a Suckuh

2008-09-26T07:47:00.011-05:00

It's no secret that I'm a Britney Spears fan. Her music and performances inspire me, and now...so does her story. Mental illness isn't a joke. I can't imagine being at a "low" and dealing with the amount of probing she did. It's a wonder that this album ever came to fruition...A year ago, the paparazzi were writing her obituary, today the first single from Britney's new album (aptly titled "Circus") was debuted. This isn't my favorite song ever. "Blackout" (also very aptly named) boasted no less than 6 songs that I can still listen to over & over again without getting bored, and I hope that "Womanizer" is just a tease for better things to come when the album drops in December.
The sound is new & edgy, and the lyrics are great...I'm just dissatisfied with the 'persona' Brit took on for the song. There is something lacking in the vocals, and I don't feel that this is the best she has to offer.
That being said, I'm still rockin' the CD as soon as it comes out.

A decade of friendship & Tums

2008-09-25T18:10:00.010-05:00

This is Erin. Isn't she a cutie-patootie?

This is her son, Tyler. He's too much for words! Just smile, cause that's how he makes you feel.

Tyler & Beena Baby (aka Demon child, aka Turkey #3) are getting married. NO. Not now. We're going to let them wait until they're old enough to at least understand that their Mothers are forcing an arranged marriage on them simply to satisfy our need to actually be related after all these years.

Erin & Tyler were visiting from beautiful Rifle, Colorado. She and I have known each other since long before Tyler or Corrina were even considered. Long before either of us were ever married, long before 9/11, the War on Terrorism, Long before Britney was a SuperStar!!!

She's been my rock when I thought I had nothing left, and her soothing words have gotten me through many a moment that I simply couldn't see past, and I love her like a sister. At times, I feel really alone on my journey here...and she's one of the people I turn to when the solitude starts eating at my sanity. She get's me through it by reminding me how great my kids are, how much she loves each one of us, and how proud she is of me for standing up for what I believe in and taking this huge risk. When other people look at me like I'm crazy for leaving my gorgeous husband with a good job, secure benefits, and such a happy-go-lucky outlook on life...Erin reminds me that the happy-go-lucky included days where the children and I ate nothing but MRE's because he'd spent another paycheck at a ski resort and partied his woes away.
She doesn't let me feel sorry for myself, but reminds me that I made the right decision for us.

Without people like Erin, and my Jen-nay...and my Mommy, I'd have given up. I would have crawled under my bed with a bottle of Jagermeister and allowed my husband to run us so far into a financial hole that we'd never see the light again. Erin is my "responsible angel"
When I told her that my utility bill was $420 she immediately started crunching numbers and looking online to find out why. And how we could get it down. Not me. WE. (I keep my thermostat down...My bill is actually one of the lowest that I've heard of around here. It's scary)
Letters to governors, calling the power company....that girl was on it. And, she was on vacation.
See, I was just going to pay the sucker and call it even. Not Erin. No way. Hu-uh!

We also spent hours in the kitchen cooking, taste testing, throwing calories out the window willy nilly! It was wonderful and great and fattening and perfection. I think we used 2 entire bags of sugar and over 3/4's of a large bag of flower. 2 dozen eggs, and we cleaned out the fruits & veggies at the Farmers Market. Then we ate it. All of it. Then we ate some Zantac. Then we slept in the same bed and told ghost stories by candlelight and giggled until the sun came up.
If you haven't had a sleepover with a best friend in a while, I highly recommend it! There's no better therapy!

I love you Erin! You are the bomb dot com. And, I am not Lame dot net.

Chore Store

2008-09-23T07:43:00.005-05:00

I've implemented a new program 'round here in order to facilitate a cleaner, happier home.
Using an idea I stole from Pioneer Woman, (and revamped to work for us) we now have our very own, "Mommy Store."

I've bought a few UBFunkey's (Cause they're super cheap), some pretty sketch pads, and some random 'kid junk' that I picked up at the local Family Dollar. There are also coupons that they can purchase to get out of doing chores. Those cost some serious Mom Bucks...but they're in there. Also some really Mom friendly ones, like; Take everyone out for ice cream~Mom's treat; and, 2 Hours free video/movie Time with snack. (Silly Turkey's don't even realize that means I get 2 hours quiet time with snack!)

I'm using a white board (that's actually blue...go figure) to write out each chore that I want to see completed. Beside each one is a point system. cleaning their bedrooms, for example, is 1 point. At the end of the week, we'll calculate the points each Turkey has accumulated. (We have a pink board for that!) For every 5 points, they'll receive 1 "Mom Buck" (I found an old old old box of checks that I've been marking the pertinent info off of, and issuing "Paychecks"...luckily, the Bank of Mom will never go out of business!)

This morning, in the midst of lost hairbrushes, misplaced lunchboxes, and general chaos that ensues each day beginning at 6am, Moonshine came up to me and announced that not only had he dressed himself, brushed his teeth, readied his backpack (lost lunchbox & all) but he'd also made his bed, picked up his books from last night, and put his water bottle back in the fridge after he'd written his initials on the lid. He also wanted to know, "If I have enough money in Mom bucks, do I have to wait until store day to play with my new Funkey?"....aw. Dangit. I'm such a pushover. YES YOU HAVE TO WAIT! It's Mine. All Mine! Muahahahahaha! (At least until next Sunday, when I pull out the box and bad checks start flying through the air!)

I can't wait to see how this turns out. Before, we were using a demerit system. They'd lose points for forgetting. I hate being the bad Mom. Hate feeling like I'm always the one making them do chores, homework, hygiene. I want to be the good guy for once. I think this is a huge step towards that. Instead of giving Lyss a demerit for not making her bed, I simply ignored it and handed Moonshine the marker to give himself points while she looked on and calculated how many Mom bucks he'd just made.

And, after seeing this...she hauled butt to her bedroom and made her bed, picked up hers & the Baby's toys, and cleared the dining table of breakfast dishes. So. I need to win that doll. Otherwise, I'm in real trouble here. Can a Mom store give out IOU's??

Waltzing LaVonne

2008-09-22T22:32:00.005-05:00

My Mother finally posted the video of her friends & family singing the song they'd written in celebration of her 50th birthday. Now, I'm passing it on to you for your viewing pleasure....Or pain. Ummm.. Well, Enjoy!

waltzing LaVonne

"Waltzing LaVonne"

Waltzing LaVonne
Waltzing LaVonne
Who'll go with this 'ole gal LaVonne
As she picks up rocks & put's 'em in a box
Who'll go waltzing with LaVonne
Waltzing LaVonne
Waltzing LaVonne
Who'll watch the sled dogs with LaVonne
As we stand on a block of ice, cheering the puppies on
Will Rich waltz with LaVonne?
Waltzing LaVonne
Waltzing LaVonne
Ain't it nifty, she's turnin' Fifty
You'l hear the woe's about her big toes
Who'll be limping to LaVonne

Now, a little background since you've seen the video in all it's glory.
My Mom loves/adores/worships the Iditarod. Her 50th birthday gift to herself (and a special cousin & sister) was a trip to Alaska to see the beginning of the race. This was after a cruise she went on several years ago, where she fell in love with the dogs to begin with. Someday, my Mommy's going to move to Alaska and abandon her family. But, she can't get rid of me as easily as she thinks! I'll be hot on her trail!
She also loves rocks. I believe I've mentioned that. And the toe thing? Not sure. And Rich? No damn clue who that could be!!! My family's a bit on the weird side. The ballgowns were because they were having a "Birthday Ball" and someone brought a bag of (bouncy) balls as gift. Most everyone else gave her rocks. Save for one Aunt who gave her football themed grilling accoutrement's. Excuse me for a moment, my head is spinning.
OK, I'm sorry. And, I'm sorry that I've subjected you to the oddity's that make up my family. Please forgive me. And family? If you're reading this? Well, you should stop now before you cast me unto the hellfire and disown me as your loved one.

Asserting my Independence

2008-09-22T14:29:00.000-05:00

Ahhhhh...Naptime! The small niche in my day where I can fold laundry, or empty the dishwasher in peace. I love naptime. I might (once or twice a year) use naptime as a time to catch up on housework that I can't do when the Demon child is awake. (Like all of them) Or, I could spend an hour or so outside weeding my pretend flower beds & mangled vegetable garden.
But, on an average day I use this time as mine.
If I want to try on every outfit in my closet in the hopes that I might someday meet another adult outside my house, for dinner~I will.
If I want to chat on the phone aimlessly for an hour about nothing in particular~I will.
Or, if I want to soak in the bathtub, blessedly uninterrupted, until my toes shrivel up and fall off~I most certainly will.
Cause I can. Cause it's my time. And, cause I'm the Alpha Dog around here!
Uh-oh. Sounds like someone disagrees. Gotta go.

P.S. Go check this out at Jenny's Happy Life and win something for the Turkey's in your life!

Solo Parenting & The Other Dad

2008-09-21T13:34:00.010-05:00

This weekend is one of the weekends that the two oldest Turkey's spend with their Dad. One of the upsides of moving back to DF-Dub (vs. fighting it out with the X in Colorado for however long) was that they would be closer to him. Who, regardless of his inability to grow up & become an adult, is a fantastic Dad. Loves those kids with his entire being. He's a good guy. We were simply way too young (16 when we met & 19 when we had the first Turkey.) and way too different to be together. Fortunately, we were never married. Fortunately, we both agree that our kids rock. Fortunately, I have difficulties coming up with other words when my mind is stuck on fortunately.

If he and I were able to simply parent our children without his parent's guidance, we would probably have very little in the way of difficulties. But, his Mother. Oh. Lord. Help. Me.
This woman is the bane of my existence. She's the Tom to my Jerry. The Hillary to my Sarah. The, the, the.....DEVIL.

I recently bought my oldest Turkey (9) a pay as you go cell phone from AT&T. Calls to her Dad, his parents & girlfriend, me and my parents were all free. Any other calls she made were $.10 per minute. (With a fee of a dollar per day). The stipulation was that she has to pay to put minutes on it. As expected, because she's 9, once the first $15 that I put on there was gone, she didn't have the patience to save her money to get more minutes.
Cut to last week. I'm on the phone with her Dad's girlfriend. (Why? Someone please tell me why the hell I have to deal with her?) She tells me that "Nana" has bought the oldest Turkey a cell phone. Put it on her plan like everybody else in their family.
Whoa. Wha? Excuse Me? Your Kidding Me. Right?

I'd really like to give that woman a piece of my mind. The problem is this. She's got money. There is a reason that she can afford to support her 28 year old son, and his girlfriend in high style. And she can use that money just as easily to hire an attorney to take me back to court.
I don't have the funds available. Partly because, when we first went to court I stupidly asked for nothing but my children. I didn't request child support. I wanted my kids.

So, I keep my mouth shut. When they ask if they can pick the kids up 3 hours early and drop them off 2 hours late, I say, "of course." When they claim that they have a 4th of July "Tradition" even though the papers clearly state to alternate holidays, I suck it up and take the baby to my parents without the rest of my crew, then make apologies to the cousins they haven't seen in a year.
When my daughter is taught that rules are made to be broken. When my son is taught that he has a right to play video games and that I'm mean for sending him outdoors to play. When they're both told that I should feed them foods that they enjoy instead of "being selfish in the kitchen"...
I keep quiet. I smile when he brings his girlfriend to pick up my children and they take off running to jump into her arms. I laugh when my son mistakenly calls her Mom, then looks at me with a guilty expression on his face. And, I let the tears pour down my face when their car pulls out of the driveway.

When his Mother decides that she's ready for my kids to live in her house again (did I forget to mention that he still lives with his parents?), she'll pay for her son to take me back to court. She'll buy him the best attorney money can buy.
And all I'll be able to fight back with is the consistency of my parenting. Two children who are doing fantastic in school, who are well fed, groomed, and certainly loved. And, my willingness to adapt myself so that they can continue to have a healthy and vibrant relationship with their Father.

I have all of this on the brain today, because I promised Lyss that I would invite her Dad and the GF over for dinner, and am feverishly trying to figure out what to prepare to make myself look like the culinary genius that I pretend to be. I'm going to have to also figure out a way to make myself not look to be a bitter, angry, demented ~~bitch~~ woman because of all this drama swirling about in the shadows.

Will you help me? I have less than 2 weeks to prepare.

Starlight, Starbright....

2008-09-20T08:10:00.003-05:00

First Star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, make a wish upon you tonight.

The night my littlest baby was born was bittersweet. I was finally holding the little Turkey who'd been kicking me for months, and forced me to bed rest weeks before she made her squalling appearance. Of course I was happy, thrilled, and madly in love. But, I was also tired and achy, grouchy & sad. My family had all visited and left at my request...I wanted to be alone with my newest Angel.That day, I'd spent hours before, during, and after the labor & delivery with a cell phone plastered to my ear, talking to my husband in Baquabah, Iraq. His Commander's had given him the day off and he'd spent his day in a tiny cubby hole not nearly big enough for his 6'4" frame.
My Mom kept the video camera running right up until the last moment (due to some strange new rules regarding video taping in the birthing room) and Sergio stayed on the phone the entire time.
I still don't know why, but I was afraid for him to hear me make a sound. I didn't want him to think I was in pain. Though~ duh. He told me later that it made him unsure of what was going on. All he heard were the Dr and nurses telling me I was doing great and "PUSH". After she was born and being weighed the Dr. chimed in to Sergio, "I'm Proud of you Daddy! You didn't even Faint!" with her light southern accent, and sweet little voice.
After that things went blurry. There were people in and out of my room, Flowers everywhere. Sergio had sent 2 huge bouquets himself, and my mother (always aware of peoples feelings) cheated and had a bouquet sent "from Daddy" (just in case he wasn't able to get a florist) along with the flowers & fruit from her and my Father. All up and down the halls were doors with baby wreaths on them. Beautiful creations of ribbon, and plastic booties & pacifiers. My door boasted an Army poster of a Blackhawk & the saying, "An Army of One."
It wasn't what I would have ever wished for. And, oh, how I feel for women who are going through the same thing. But, it was beautiful. I bonded with my baby even more because I wanted to savor each and every tiny moment of her life. I knew that my phone would ring (usually around 4 am, and right after I'd just nursed her back to sleep) and I would get to relate each burp, funny face, and goofy noise to someone who was just as obsessed with the news as I was. I appreciated holding her close to me, and the smell of her hair even more because I wanted to be able to describe it to him in perfect detail.
My baby is 2 now. Into everything. And dangerous. Scary dangerous. But, I'll never forget the deep, raw love I had for her in those first few months. Where just looking at her could send my heart pitter-pattering and I would be overcome with a fervent desire to hold her little body close to mine and breathe in deep, the scent of my child. Where being away from her for even an hour was an intrusion of epic proportions, and I refused at any cost.
There's nothing like the first few weeks of falling in love with your newborn child. Getting to know them in a way that you'll be able to build on for the rest of your lives. Pretty soon, the love you feel stops making you tear up with a flood of emotion and grows into the confidant, relaxed, easy love of a Mother & Child.
I hope, when my children are old enough to have their own children that I'll remember to pass along the best piece of advice I was given, "Savor Every Moment."

Thanks for giving me the idea for this post, and if you enjoy creative writing, be sure and check this out before the contest ends! What a fun way to celebrate becoming a new Mom (again!) I had a lot of fun digging deep into the memory banks and remembering the feelings from those first few weeks. Made me go smother my baby Turkey with Sloppy Kisses!
Congratulations to those expecting!!

From there....To here

2008-09-19T19:49:00.004-05:00

That Turkey Cracks Me Up.

There are some days where I feel as though I've been fighting this battle forever. Reality check; it's only been 10 months. 10 months of depression, and anxiety, severe weight loss, pills, doctors, diets, pills, pills, pills..then something snapped and I decided I couldn't take any more pills. Couldn't take the doctors or diets either. Couldn't deal with the X's selfish and destructive behavior any longer. Wasn't going to be a single parent who just happened to also be married. There were too many fights that began with where I needed to cut costs while he stared blankly at the wall with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. And ended with him storming off to spend days on end at "buddies" houses because he couldn't drink & drive on post. Seriously.

On May 1st, I was told that 5 gallons of milk (per week) was too much for a family of 5. Never mind that one of the 5 was an 18 month old baby. Or that my diet included 3 servings of Carnation Instant Breakfast per day. Made with milk. Or that 50% of the dishes we prepared included generous helpings of....yougotit! Milk. No. That was too much. I (very quietly & calmly) told him that he'd just hit the brick wall. We were over as soon as I figured out a way to get my family out of Colorado (where we moved because he was stationed @ Ft. Carson) and back to my "home" state of Texas. On May 29th, I packed the car with nothing but the kids, dog, cat, and a promise from the X that he would have our 'stuff' sent to me through the military's moving company. (A failed promise, I might add)

Since then I was able to find us a home in a quiet little town outside of Ft. Worth. Close enough to the crazaziness that is DF-Dub that I don't feel too isolated, but far enough away that I don't have drug dealers living next door to me posing as Insurance Salesmen. Or something.
Yesterday, another huge hurdle was jumped when I received wheels to chauffeur my Turkeys around in. I have a fully stocked kitchen, my bills are paid (well, sorta...I say paid, I mean; they have been dealt with in an adult like and appropriate manner...they'll be paid soon) kids are clothed, bathed, groomed, loved & reminded on a daily basis that I'm the Alpha Dog in this Disney Movie!

Basically, it's all coming along. There are days where I feel like it's helpless. I can't do this because I'm not strong, smart, resourceful, driven, enough. But then days like today happen, and while it's far from idyllic, this is my Tranquility. And, I thank God for getting me through the dark days. When I'm alone, and I feel like everyone has forgotten that we're still here. We're struggling and I need you. He's there.

That makes all the difference in the World.

Craziness

2008-09-18T23:13:00.002-05:00

So so strange...just had to do a quick post. About an hour after I wrote regarding my car being repossessed...I got a phone call that a friend of mine had come through on his offer to give me his Mother's car when he bought her a new one, and my boss was on his way back from Oklahoma with the car on a flat bed trailer.
The offer was made as a bonus for work the company did on a house, but I didn't actually think it would ever come to fruition. (Only because I'm a pessimistic Dolly-downer)
Hallelujah!
Couldn't have happened at a better time. For so many reasons.

School is sucking me dry...

2008-09-18T07:48:00.010-05:00

At this fabulous time in my life, I am without a vehicle. My husband and I had bought a super perdy Mitsubishi Galant Ralliart about a year ago. Then, sold my mini-van and bought him a motorcycle.
When I told him I was leaving, he agreed to pay the car note & insurance in lieu of child support. (Cause the last thing he wants to do is spend his hard earned money directly on his child)
Before I had a chance to even move out of our home, I found out that he hadn't been paying the car note. Of course he wanted me to take it. He knew I wouldn't be pimpin' it too long.
He never did pay the note, and my beautiful car was repossessed a few weeks ago. I'm working my way up to paying cash for a semi-beater because the last thing I need in my life right now is another bill. In the meantime, I'm relying on a dear friend to take me wherever I need to go. Problem is, it's a 30 minute drive to get to me. It truly sucks, because I am not a planner. I've never been a list person...even though I. Try. So. Hard. In order to be (*ahem*) afoot, you must be able to plan. Otherwise, you go to the store and you forget staples like sugar and tortillas.
Who forgets sugar? And, we use tortillas daily around here. (Great for rolled up PB&J's for the baby Turkey)
So yesterday, as I was pondering the fact that there are 2 recipes in the universe that don't call for sugar, and both of them call for tortillas...my Angel Faced 2nd Turkey hands me a note in RED writing that says "Bring snacks for 21 kids." That's all. No, please. No Thank you. I don't know about you, but RED writing from a teacher always scares the crap out of me. I found myself huddled in the bathtub with a woobie wrapped around me and my thumb in my mouth while rocking back and forth and crying, "Mommy?" "Mommy?"
Then I remembered that I am Mommy. Shit.
What I would like to know is, when the hell did school get so friggin' expensive? Why am I bringing snacks once a month for the entire class? Is there a party every day? Why are school pictures taken twice a year now? (And, why are the Spring pictures so much nicer than the Fall pictures?) Why are there Book fairs every damn month? Why did I buy $80 worth of school supplies for the boy only to be told that I need to send another $40 for more supplies?
There are forms every week for t-shirts, bags, fundraisers, money, money, money!
And, if you don't send the money that the school wants, you doom your child to be the only kid in the WHOLE SCHOOl that doesn't have his/her whole body plastered with the school name. (Which in our case is just not a real appealing one.)
I actually used to love doing the kids school parties. Making pretty platters of fruit & cheese...Now, you get no choice. The day before the party you get a note demanding to see 87 pizzas from the Italian eatery 2 states away on the teachers desk before noon the next day. And, it's written in red ink.

(That's my Daddy up there...and dang. I miss that car!)

Positive Thoughts......

2008-09-17T21:07:00.005-05:00

I totally wanted to post a blog today, but I have nothing positive to write about. I don't really mind writing about the ups & downs, the crappy with the good, right? But if I feel like I'm just being a whiny, snivelling, cry-baby. Well. I've got some pride left. (And, besides...what is my Mommy supposed to be for?)
So, instead of alienating anyone that's had the misfortune of landing on my page today, I decided to post a simple, sweet survey. OK. Maybe not so much sweet. I am a bit bitter these days. Sorry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Have you ever showered naked with someone?
Yes I have. Several times. You should try it.

Where was the first kiss you had with the last person you kissed?
In the hospital room where she was born.

Who is your last text from & what does it say?
Not a clue

Latest you stayed up in the past week?
About midnight. That's when I finally feel like I've had a moment to breathe and can sleep.

Are you listening to music right now?
Always

Are you currently craving any piercings or tattoos?
I'd like to get a small clover somewhere to go with the small butterfly I have somewhere else. :-)

How long can you go without your phone?
we shall soon see....

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
My Jen-nay

Who last called you babe/baby?
My Dad-day

Does your phone ring in the middle of the night often?
Not very often, no. When it does it better be important. And, it usually is. Barring late night wanna-be hook-up phone-sex BS from the X.

Do you know anyone who is married that shouldn't be?
Right here folks.

Do you curse in front of your parent(s)?
ya. I've got a horrible potty mouth

What is your current annoyance?
do not get me started.

Last time you saw fireworks, with who & where?
Driving home from my parents 4th of July party with my brother in my car. Enough info?

Are you afraid of roller coasters?
Yes. They don't make them safe enough for people of my itty-bitty ness.

Who pissed you off yesterday?
do not get me started.

What are you supposed to be doing right now?
This is MY time. I'm supposed to do WTF I want.

Are you slowly drifting away from someone?
perhaps

When was the last time you felt unbearably guilty?
Weekly, Daily, Hourly......I'm a Mother. It comes with the territory.

Are you bored?
no. I'm vegging. I want to blog, but I have nothing hopeful or helpful to write about so I'm keeping my trap shut. Or not, since I'm doing this survey...but whatev's. (My oldest Turkey said that today to her brother. LMAO!)

The last person you talked to on MSN?
Just got MSN the other day to talk to Er-nin, my sister from another Mr.

Have you ever kissed anyone who's name started with an a?
Yep.

What do you currently hear right now?
JuJu snoring, and Beyonce singing "Naughty Girl" (itunes on shuffle, mkay?)

How old do you think you will be when you kick the bucket?
9 Million Years Old.

Would you rather watch football or baseball?
I'd rather be footballed in the face with a baseball.

Where is your number best friend?
Sierra Vista, AZ

Three things you did today?
made my bed
danced with Mickey Mouse through my House of Mouse
forced the Turkeys to take their Gatorade's and butts outside so I could sit in the garage and smoke a ciggy in peace.

Did anyone see you kiss the last person you kissed?
Maybe. All 3 Turkeys were in the room when the smallest one cornered me and smothered me with her sloppy kisses.

Have you ever kissed in the rain?
Yes. It's not as romantic as it looks

Have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?
Maybe. But I can't sleep touching someone, so maybe not.

What are you doing tonight?
not a heck of a lot if this is any indication

Do you know someone whos pregnant?
My Jen-nay. And, she better STAY pregnant for at least 5 more weeks dadgummit!

Do you still talk to the person you last kissed?
whats your obsession with the last person I kissed? It's my baby. My little 2 year old punkin face baby. Can I NOT kiss her without you planting stories in the press and having the papparrazi stake out my home with video's and flashbulbs? Wha? Huh? No-one's staking out my house taking pictures of me? I'm not famous? That is quite unfortunate, as I've totally invited ALL my friends to the awards ceremony when I win my Emmy. Shit.

Does anyone hate you?
A certain X just may. He just may.

Last place you hugged someone?
Alec's bedroom when I hugged him good-night. He doesn't like kisses anymore. Wipes 'em off. Makes me sad, so we just fore-go the whole experience.

Do you know anyone named Matt?
Sho' 'Nuff. He gave me away at my wedding. Fucker. What the hell were you thinking??? It was your job to yank my a$$ out of that hideous "church". Wanna pay for the divorce?

When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings?
Few days ago.

Is your hair curly or straight?
Straight

Who was the last person you took a picture with?
My kids maybe....don't know. There were lots of cameras at my Mom's party. (Not mine though. Thanks Travis.)

Do you have a best friend?
A few. Luckily.

Do you remember what you were like a year ago?
Yes. It was a sad state of affairs.

Do you use smiley faces on the computer too much?
Whats your definition of too much? :-) ;-) :-p :D

Who did you last go out to eat with?
Marc and my chit-lins

Do you wear glasses?
I'm supposed to. But that Bratty Baby Turkey keeps breaking them. Gonna hafta beat her one of these days.

Is the sun shining?
Somewhere...

What jewelry are you currently wearing?
a necklace my old neighbor and dear friend made for me

What were you doing at 10pm Friday night?
I think I was sleeping? Maybe? I don't know. That was almost a week ago dangit.

Where was your honeymoon?
Hahahhahaha! My husband was on mid-tour leave from Iraq. At the time I told myself that he deserved to spend that time hanging with his friends even if it meant I didn't really get a honeymoon. Now, I realize it was just another excuse for him to party. Just like our wedding was. A$$hole was drinking a beer before I even made it to the reception. No, there was no "Entrance of the Couple" or whatever. Ugh. Bad question.

Have you ever broken someone's heart?
Yes. It sucked.

Do you have any weird inside jokes?
I'm a weird inside person.....so yep.'

Do you find piercings attractive in the opposite sex?
not necessarily

Could you go the rest of your life without electricity.
No internet? Kill me now.

Name something you dislike about the day you're having?
Um. Let's not go there. Not blogging because I can't think of positive rays to send out...remember?

Is there anybody you're really disappointed in right now?
Yep.

Do you miss someone?
Dearly

Do you watch a lot of TV?
not at all. When I get uber bored, I watch my shows online

What was the last reason you went to the doctor for?
to tell her I wasn't taking any more of their "crazy pills".....they didn't advise me to stop. But they were the same bastards who advised me to start being a zombie with a pretty complexion. Dusty, dirty, cobwebby time of life. Thank God it's over.

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now?
Goodness, no!

Have you ever wanted something you couldn't have?
Haven't we all?

(The picture is of my middle Turkey. My only boy Turkey. He's the one that makes my heart beam rainbow's out my a$$. See why?)

Happy 50th Mama!

2008-09-14T23:36:00.007-05:00

We're back and I'll post more pictures (with promised video!) as soon as my Mother emails them to me....if she has the nerve to email them to me.

We had a wonderful time! Homemade peach ice-cream, family, and the river. I'm finally relaxed.
My Mom wasn't as surprised as everyone wanted her to be, but she was thrilled with the way it turned out.

It says a lot about a person when so many people you've known your whole life will come together to celebrate your 50th birthday. And, go to such lengths to make it a wonderful and joyful experience for you. My Mom is blessed, but more than that..she is an extraordinary woman. She has faced adversary's that we never think of. And came through the other side with an outlook on life as positive as if she'd never been there.

I'm proud of my Mom. I consider her one of my best friends, and certainly the one person who I can go to for anything and know that the advice I'm given is tried & true. Or she won't give any.

All I can say is, my Mom rocks. And guess what she got for her birthday? Guess..No, I don't want to tell you. You have to guess.
Fine crybaby, I'll tell you. She got rocks. Yep. Are you jealous? You should be. The rocks were her favorite part. Really. They were. She's not senile. She just likes rocks. What?

I love you Mom!!!

Retreat to the River

2008-09-12T17:02:00.007-05:00

The Turkeys and I are packed and ready to go to my parent's house for the weekend. My Mother's 50th birthday is looming, and her parents & assorted siblings & cousins have planned a surprise party for her tomorrow morning.
She knows though. Betcha money she knows. They all do this for each others 50th. And, hello, my brother and I are driving in together tonight for an impromtu visit. She's gonna know the second she hears us pull up the drive...
I'm totally stoked! It really is wonderful to live close enough to my parents that a weekend visit isn't a 4 month long planning process! (I knew there were redeeming qualities to DF-Dub!)

On another note, Hurricane Ike is being a rat bastard about wanting to eat him some levees. I think I'll be safer on the Illinois River in Oklahoma than I will be in my little house scared and alone with a buncha' squawbling turkeys.

I shall be back with pictures of several 50 (& younger & older) year young women dressed in ball gowns having a food fight....or some variation thereof. If you're really good this weekend, I may even post video of them singing their (horrid) rendition of "Happy Birthday"

(The photo above was taken at my parents Independence Day party. The river is their front yard....and it's a beautiful oasis to go to when you've had a week as traumatizing as we've had 'round here)

A moment of silence.....

2008-09-11T22:54:00.005-05:00

It's been 7 years since the World Trade Center attacks. Seven years of war, misery, heartache & turmoil. It suddenly occurred to me today; my children have never really known a life without a war in Iraq. When I was growing up, war seemed like something that happened to other countries. Not ours. Our country had finally figured out that war was senseless.

My Father was in the Navy, both my brothers were in the Navy. (I could say both my Fathers were in the Navy, but one was a POS, so he doesn't get props here) I married into the Army.
Our daughter was born while my husband was in Baquabah, Iraq. My Mom drove me to the hospital at 5 o'clock in the morning and stayed with me throughout my labor. She was the first person to see my little baby be born, and she cut the cord.

My children have welcomed home many a sailor and soldier from Iraq. To them, it's a far off place where boys go when they're older to 'protect' our country. It's a way of life.
They aren't shocked at the knowledge that millions have died and are still dying.
Am I the only one who thinks thats wrong?

I sometimes get the impression from my son that he thinks he's going to have to go to war too. I try and make him understand that he makes the choice...then he comes home and tells me I'm wrong..."It's called a draft Mom, they can make you go to war, unless you have flat feet. Then you get to stay home."
Yo, kiddo. Your seven. You don't have to worry about a war.

So, to whoever wins this dadgum election, please put a notation on my sons roster that says he's got flat feet. Or hands. Or a flat brain. Whatever it takes.
Or, here's a novel idea....Lets figure out a way to end this thing. Whatever it takes. Cause, my kids not fighting this war. Got it? Great. Thanks.

P.S. I'm not saying to surrender. Or Forget. Just get this $hit figured out so my kids can be as carefree & clueless and I once was. Please don't burn my house down. I love the USA. And, I support our troops. Like you wouldn't friggin' believe.

My Jen-nay

2008-09-10T16:20:00.002-05:00

Happy Birthday lady! I wish we were celebrating together and not trapped in separate states. I want you to know I'm thinking of you, even though I can't be there for you.
You are an awesome woman, a rockin' Mama, and an amazing BFF. I love you, and I'm always here for you.

Rockin' Iced Coffee

2008-09-09T23:05:00.004-05:00

I haven't had a chance to try PW's iced coffee recipe, but I've wanted to post my own because...well it's super yummy. The problem is, my camera is on strike. OK, not really. Really though, it's in the trunk of my brother's car. Because he keeps camera's when I loan them to him. He doesn't do it on purpose....I don't think.
Anyway, here's my rendition of blogging a recipe. Hope you enjoy;

Brew a large pot of coffee, and as soon as it's done brewing remove it from heat and cover with a dishtowel. (That'll keep it from sweating too much)
Once it's cooled to almost room temperature (or so...this isn't rocket surgery) pour into a serving pitcher and place in the fridge.

Once your ready to make your iced coffee, grab your favorite mug and throw about 1/3 of a cup of crushed ice (you can also make coffee cubes and use those if you'd prefer)
Pour your coffee to just below the rim and top with whipped cream.

But here's the secret;

Smucker's ice cream toppings. Drizzle some (or alot, if you're feeling frisky) over the top & stir.
Better than Starbucks.

Please don't shoot me. I didn't mean that. Starbucks is the Coffee God, and I'm not worthy.

Now, go make yourself some iced coffee and tell all your friends to visit my blog and tell me how wonderful and Martha Stewart like I am.
Thank you.

P.S. The picture at the top of the post isn't mine. Like I said, my brother is ~~a thief~~ forgetful. I stole that one from Google. Surprisingly, it looks just like the cup I use for my iced coffee. Only mine doesn't have a handle. I want a handle. Dang it.

Rubber Monkey

2008-09-09T17:37:00.007-05:00

This is my baby. Isn't she cute? Don't you just want to snuggle her chunky cheeks? Do you like her olive fingers?
This kid rocks my world. If you have eyes, then I'm sure it's fairly obvious why. And, trust me, she is much cuter in person.

She tried to kill her little self on Sunday. I haven't written because I promised myself that I would write about whatever happened to be on my mind. And since we left the hospital, I've been fighting to get the images of what happened out of my mind. It's not going anywhere though. So, I'm going to go ahead and post this. Child welfare listen up. This is how it went down; (PS. Just kidding about the child welfare thing...maybe in bad taste. Who said I had good taste?)

My baby Turkey and I had just gotten settled in to watch the VMA's and she opened a drawer to get a diaper out. Even though I was sitting right there, I can't tell you if she leaned on the drawer, or pulled down on it, or was just shutting it....Regardless, the television (which weighed about 100 pounds) toppled over and flattened my 24 pound baby. I have no idea how we got through the next few minutes. I don't know how I found the hospital in this town I've only lived in for a few months. I don't know how my baby is ok.
She is fine. Thank God, for giving babies rubber bones. She seems to be a little sore whenever she wakes up from keeping still for so long, and she has a scratch on her leg about half an inch long. Barely broke the skin.

I'm amazed at the resiliency of children. I remember (clearly and will forever) the moment that I saw the tv start to wobble. I couldn't get to her fast enough. It was the worst feeling I've ever known, and (between you & me) I'm crying again as I write this.

I wish I could say, "Lesson learned" and be more aware of a danger that I hadn't yet thought of in my (almost) decade of parenting, but that particular danger has been the stuff of my nightmares for a while already. It's NOT something I'd never thought of. I've always been careful not to put things the kids might want on objects that could tip over on them. Dressers, bookshelves, and yes...even the television. Simply out of fear that they'd go climbing for it and disaster would hit. It never occurred to me that the same thing could happen within 7 feet of my reach.

So, what the heck happened??? I don't know. The only thing I've been able to come up with (and believe me...I've wracked my brain for answers) is that while I was cleaning, I must have pushed the stand back farther against the wall than it was meant to be, which made the tv (and it was a bit too large for that stand) unsteady.

I promised drama didn't I? And, now I feel that I've delivered. Let's just stay away from drama involving my precious children from here on out, shall we?

Hug Your Turkeys

2008-09-08T09:34:00.006-05:00

...that's all I wanted to say. They're too fragile not to, so just hug them.

mmm...Coffee

2008-09-07T09:42:00.011-05:00

Pioneer Woman is my hands down favorite blog. I check her website before I check my email. I love, love, love her writing style.
I could go on & on...but that would be kind of stalker style, so I won't. But, (I love butts) she recently requested that her lovely readers ask her whatever question they've been dying to know regarding her culinary skills. Since I couldn't ask her to come live at my house & cook with me Rachel Ray style everyday, I asked a simple question.
And you know what?
She answered it. More than a thousand comments & mine was answered.

I feel like the popular kid in ~~the blogosphere~~ high school just invited me to the Party of the Year!

So, here is my question & The Esteemed Pioneer Woman's response.

For a coffee lover, I haven’t seen an iced coffee recipe…and since it’s my current obsession, do YOU have one?
I’m an iced coffee lover—I drink it every morning. Here’s what I do: Grind a pound of coffee beans. Put the coffee grounds in a large pitcher. Fill it with warm water, cover the pitcher with a towel, and let it steep for at least 12 hours on the kitchen counter. Then I strain it with a very fine mesh strainer into a container with a lid. Then I store it in the fridge and use it over the next couple of weeks. To make the iced coffee, I fill a glass with ice, then fill the glass half full with the cold coffee-liquid-concoction-potion stuff. Then I splash cold milk—or, if I’m feeling particularly naughty, half & half—over the top, and stir in a tiny bit of sugar. Oh, lawsie MERCY, it’s good. You can also just mix in water if you don’t like creamy iced coffee. You can also mix in ICE CREAM if you want to sell your soul.

Knowing that PW makes her own iced coffee too (and it's just as serious a process as mine) made my day. If you haven't read her, you really should check her out. Her recipes are easy, & fun. Written in a style that makes people like me look like Martha in the kitchen. (With a lot less perfection than Martha)
I won't get started on her photography. Go see it for yourself. And swoon.

~ What they don't teach in sex ed ~

2008-09-07T00:12:00.002-05:00

I am a mediocre Mother. I've learned, in the past 9 years, to suck in my pride & deal with it.
I've been known to *gasp* forget on Tooth Fairy night(s)! I'm guilty of hollering at the Turkeys for leaving backpacks & lunchboxes strewn throughout the living room, kitchen & dining room, while the diaper bag, and my purse, & shoes are just tossed wherever they happened to land when I tornadoed through the door. My weekend catchphrase is, "If your hungry...make yourself some food."

All these things, (and more...oh Lordy! SO much more!!) conspire to instill in me a daily gut wrenching of "Mom guilt"

(I'm convinced that if we could make all girls between the ages of 12-20 feel a smidgen of the guilt their children will cause them....we'd have a serious decline in teenage & unwanted pregnancy's!)

I try and bribe my guilty conscience with the ideology that I really do have great kiddo's and so, I must be doing something right. Right? But, in all honesty, I don't think anything I'll do will ever be enough.

Those kids rock. And they roll. And they're the bomb dot com.
I think...(and what I think is the only thing that matters since I'm the one raising the buttheads)
that having guilt is all part of being a parent. Maybe I'd feel a little less guilt if I had millions of dollars and could give them all their hearts desire, but there would be something still.
I feel guilty when my son tells me he's bored. A little pang in my chest telling me that I need to find something fun, creative, constructive to engage his beautiful brain so it doesn't turn to mush.
I feel guilty when my oldest daughter tells me a girl in class was mean to her; like I should have been there to tell the other girl off.
Mean girls don't disappear with money. I'm willing to bet they get worse, actually. Boredom & Money have never really seemed to just be cool. They usually end up in a 3-some with drugs or worse.

Tonight the baby didn't want to go to sleep. I kept laying her back down with her woobies, her sister's "Lucky" lion (we give her what she wants. we don't fight it), giving her kisses, smoothing her blankets, and singing her lullabies......ok. no lullabies. They ask me to stop when I sing.

But she just kept popping back up. Like a friggin' Jack 'n' the Box. She doesn't just get up and roam around though. Oh no. She beelines straight to me with her lips puckered up and makin' kissy noises! The demon!
How do you punish that? I can't tell her to go back to bed and ignore those elusive kisses! And, once I've kissed her, I can't punish her for being up again.
After about 14 tuck-ins, woobie searches, & kissy marathons ~ I finally lost it. Kid had to go to sleep. I told her I was going to spank her fanny if she got up again. She didn't listen. Surprise...surprise. I fought those little lips though! I used my super human Mom shield to fight the magnetic pull they have over me, and I smacked her little diaper, turned her around and marched her right back to bed.

Ignoring those tears was the worst part of my day.
I wanted to run in there, scoop her up, and snuggle her little sobs away. But, I acted like a parent who has to teach her children limits, rules, routine....blah blah freakin' blah.

The point is. I did what I had to do in order to maintain my status as Alpha Dog around here. If I didn't, these Turkeys would skateboard all over me. But, it sucks. So, now...I'm sitting here with "Mom guilt" wishing I could wake my baby up and tell her that I didn't mean it. She can do her Jack 'n' the box routine all night long if she wants to.... as long as she gives me those sweet 'n' sloppy kisses in return!

Good Night & Tip Your Waitresses!

P.S. She went right to sleep after I showed her diaper who's the boss around this dump!

Two Wheels Move the Soul & Hurt my Bum

2008-09-06T16:33:00.001-05:00

I'm getting tricked into a 3 hour motorcycle ride tomorrow. Could be fun. A good friend of mine has been using my garage for the past week to restore a wrecked Ducati Monster 7-something, I don't really know.
Now, I'm all up for an hour or so on the back of a bike cruising down the open road with mountains and rivers surrounding you in their nurturing cocoon. But....but...but....

It's HOT. And, HUMID. And did I mention DF-Dub? Um. Traffic out the wazoo. Semi-Trucks & Corvettes doing 120 are NOT my idea of a nurturing cocoonish type experience. I want to hear the sound of the Ducati revving up when it cruises up a mammoth hill. I do not want to hear 46 different radio stations blasting through the air at ear breaking decibels.
I want to rest my chest on the back of a guy I've known and trusted for longer than I can remember. I do not want to be looking around in fear at the thousands of vehicles rushing along beside me, around me, through me, and gripping said friends thighs while I battle a panic attack of epic proportions and my life flashes through my mind, and I pray that my babies will forgive me for being selfish enough to take an afternoon off.

So. Ya. I'm gonna go. Why? Because this friend saved me. Pulled me up when I was drowning and didn't even see the water rushing over my face. He found a beautiful house for my children and I (that I'm not starving to afford), gave me work through his company where I can keep my baby with me at all times, and smacks me around when I start whining that it's all too much. Dude keeps things in perspective. Dude would have a heart attack if he knew I called him "Dude"!

So, if he wants me to ride a Monster till my bum falls off. I will.

And, dammit. I'll like it.

Get your mind out of the gutter. A Ducati Monster. Motorcycle. You Dirty Bird.

Love & Sloppy Kisses

It's Britney Bitch.

2008-09-05T23:04:00.006-05:00

I'm just gonna say it;

Britney Spears better damn perform at the VMA's on Sunday. As a Mother (and a woman with mental issues) I'm rooting for her hardcore. I don't care if her family made her crazy, or if K-Fart is going to take half of what she makes off of MTV this weekend....girl owes it to the people who watched with bated breath, as she turned into the raving lunatic we all wish we could be! (Admit it...Starbucks, sex, & rock 'n' roll? Don't fight it. Release your inner demon)
She's a performer. I don't care if you like her music. Her dancing. Her antics. She's a damn good performer and has been since she popped out of her (just as) Crazy (as me) Mama.
I will be buying her next cd. And, as someone who hasn't bought a cd in 6 years, that's progress.

UPDATE: Way to go! 3 Moonmen for Pieces of Me. A song produced in the throes of mental destruction. Now. Show us what you can really do.

Pitiful Conversations

2008-09-05T11:36:00.001-05:00

It's so sad what children do to their Mother's social life. We go from being care-free and clickin' our heels...to dragging 90 pound diaper bags around our necks like a noose. OK, maybe not quite that dramatic...but take this conversation I had with a dear friend the other day;

*Ring* *Ring* *Ring*

Me: "Hello"?

Dear Friend: "Hey! Haven't heard from you in a while, just wanted to check in!"

Me: "Oh! Hey Lady, what's crackilackin?" (Yep..I really said that)

DF: "Oh not much...just getting kids ready for school..you know how that goes. How 'bout you?"

Me: "Just about the sa...."

DF: "Wait, hang on one sec, "GRAYSON, I SAID, IS YOUR ROOM CLEAN???"....Sorry about that, oh wait, No, Grayson...not those paper towells, those are Daddy's garage towells. Use these. OK. Sorry again. Go ahead."

Me: "Oh well, I was just saying things are..."

DF; "hang on...hang on. Sorry. Kimberly? Kimberly? Is that you? Kimberly? Kimberly?hang on one sec"

Me: "Um, ok."

*phone muffles...barely*

DF: "KIMBERLY JANE. GET in HERE! Do you not hear me calling you? Kimberly? Kimberly? KIMBERLY??!!?!?!??!"
"Oh my goodness....TEENAGERS!...now what were you saying?"

Me: "Oh, I don't really remember. Nothing important. Um, do you wanna call me back when you aren't..."

DF: "Oh, Kimberly...sorry, one sec...Kimberly, I need you to get the checkbook out of the top drawer of my desk in the computer room....Ok...go ahead"

Me: Do you want to call me back when you....

DF "NO KIMBERLY! THE TOP DRAWER. No, No, Not that one. No, the other one. No. Kimberly, Look. In. The. Top. Drawer."

Me: Why don't you call me back?

DF: "OK, it was great catching up with you!"

Me: "um. ok. sure."

DF: "Grayson, no, not like that. This one. Wash like......CLICK"

P.S. Names were changed to protect the obnoxious.

The Swing of It

2008-09-04T20:45:00.003-05:00

I'm trying to get back into the swing of the whole "blogging" thing, and have been hitting a brick wall for days. Do I have anything interesting to write about anymore? I've read through so many blogs trying to answer that for myself, and you know what? I really don't have an answer. What may be boring & mundane to me, could be someone else's idea of tranquility.
So, I guess...for my first post in forever (and my first ever public post), and what I plan on being a (at least) daily blog I'll just ramble on about myself for a bit & see if anyone gets bored enough to bash their head into their keyboard before I finish. (btw...if this is you, please come back. there will be drama. I promise. Drama is like coffee...like chocolate...like, well...I can't live without it)

I'm a newly single Mama Duck to 3 Turkeys. Yep, I know Turkeys & Ducks are different. Wanna makes sumthin of it? As a matter of fact, one of my Turkeys is actually a dog. The other is a rabbit. Another is a dragon. Yep. Factor that in before you go all hoity toity Species Scientist on me.

My oldest Turkey (the Rabbit) is 9. I say this to myself several times a day because I'm still getting used to it. She sometimes looks at me funny because I stare at her and mutter, "nine. holy batman, Robin. She's Effin NINE"
My middle Turkey (the Dragon) is my only boy. He makes my heart beam rainbows out my ass. Ya, he's that friggin cute.
My baby Turkey (the Dog) is two. And, if you give me any hell for still calling her my baby. I will send you a burning bunny in the mail. Give you and the postman something to whisper about!

I'm newly single because I finally stopped taking enough prescription medications to kill a horse, and realized that I was unhappy with my marriage. Not my life. Not ME. Not anything other than him. He was (is) a Seargent in the US Army. Don't get all mushy now. Your on MY side....remember? Hello?? Hello? Um, is anybody there? Hello?
Someday, I might go into gory details. Right now, I don't wanna. OK? I just don't feel like it. And, at therapy rates THIS high, I don't think I have to. Uh, wait...this isn't therapy? It's free? Well, you still can't make me. Unless you offer me coffee. Or chocolate. Yep.
For now, lets just say that he hates me & I hate him. Yes, we have a child together and yes, she'll be affected by this...but for now, she's a lot less affected than when her Mama sat around like a zombie & cried for days on end without rhyme or reason.

So, thats it. I'm a single Mom to 3 Turkeys (dog, rabbit, dragon). Oh...and I have a cat named Tiger-Jac, a dog named Simon, and another dog (that isn't really mine, but I can't get rid of him cause he loves me too effin much) named JR.
We used to live in the Rocky Mountains, but have relocated to Humid DF-Dub as Mama has to work cause Turkeys don't support themselves!
More on that later.

Coffee & Mountains with Papa

2007-10-20T19:03:00.002-05:00

My Daddy just left from a (too, too short) 3 day visit. It was special to me because my Dad doesn't travel a whole lot. He goes to Padre Island when he wants a break, and rarely does anything else.

I guess I'm growing up, because my parents aren't really 'parents' anymore. They're my friends. The oldest, and best friends I have and I cherish every moment we get to spend together because they're too few and far between. My Dad's getting older, and he's not in the greatest of health. You know you aren't supposed to think about those things, but you do. You really can't help it when you see your Father opening 6-7 different bottles of pills every morning, to take with his coffee. It puts things into perspective. We discussed what should happen to my Grandmother, who's health/sanity is horrible but she refuses to move from her house. We talked about my Mother's parents, who aren't doing well right now. We talked about MY parent's impending move to AK, and the financial straights that's put them in... When did things like this become my business? Or rather...when did my opinion begin to count? And, do I really want my opinion to count? I'm not really sure I'm ready for this side of adulthood. Yet, there I was. Sitting on my back porch, drinking coffee and looking at Cheyenne Mtn with my Daddy...discussing the darker side of family life that was concealed from me until I was old enough to have a valid opinion of 'what should be done'.

I'm grateful for this visit. I'm so glad that I'll have the memories of taking my Dad through Garden of the Gods, and Helen Hunt Falls, and especially our drive to the summit of Pikes Peak. I see those things all the time, and the list of people that I can associate with my landmarks is growing, but I was able to add my Daddy to that list. I have to say, for now. That's my highlight. He'll always be able to say that the first time Corrina ever went to the summit, was with her Pawpaw. She wont remember, but you can bet that picture will be framed for her to keep forever.

P.S. This was an old post from another blog ~ Before life went crazy and I moved back to DF-Dub