Retina A + hormones + a sprinkle of L. Frank Baum = saga of Wicked Witch

So the last week has been brutal and I am beginning to think the universe has it out for me....Seriously I leave my house everyday wondering if a house will fall on top of me....Which would be a terribly fitting end to the person I am....only instead of glittery red heels I rock some awesome ass hot pink pumps.

I have gone mental and not in a cool biopic tortured novelist kind of way....I seem to be crushing from the weight of the world right now and its all I can do from keeping the seams from splitting and everything to come out in a horrible gush of random discombobulated thoughts and feelings....

From my writer's block to the nagging itch of creative consciousness that is spewing out ideas that I have neither the patience nor budget to keep up with....from personal goals of unattainable svelte figures and small business to paintings to photos to stories with no endings or proper character development to aching longing of a life I never realized further complicated by the one I so vehemently denied and the one I fill space in now. 

If that isn't enough to send someone into a catatonic state or at the least render you stupid then you all have more will power than I have that is for sure. Fact is I want more than anything to find a job that pays the bills well enough to afford me the time to write and not just for pleasure or diarying my pathetic life out because it makes me comforted by the thought that its out there. Let's face it. I do this solely now to feel as if I exist, to know someone is listening, to know that someone somewhere cares. And I want more. I want to have people listen to my words and HEAR them with their minds and souls. I want someone out there to have a visceral reaction. I want someone out there to validate my self worth my letting me know how truly righteously creative a mind I have. I don't want to fade away as some half ass hack who had a ounce of talent and squandered it on a lifeless ordinary. 

But then it makes me a right bitch and cunt to think for one second the life I am living is anything less. Its more than ordinary and if it wasn't I wouldn't be writing this now because I would be too mundane too stupid too fucking ignorant to see the difference.

I guess today this blog is going to be a little meglomaniacish and completely egocentric because I am in that type of mood. The fruit of my womb seem to be doing a OK, so its mommy's turn to have a moment. The kind of moment where I need to have a complete rant or reminisce about things.

I could try and lie and say its needed self reflection, but I don't know exactly what it is I want to reflect on, so let's just take a trip in a time machine and see where it leads us.

All the way back to 1996-the year my parents divorce was final and 2 years following my cousin's suicide.

So let's start out by discussing a pimply greasy faced 7th grader with hunched shoulders trying so desperately to escape the shit life at home and the taunting of blonde, skinny self righteous bitches at school.  Who deep down hoped, prayed, cried for a life so much better than the one she thought she was living.  Now this girl befriended another girl who suffered from the same bullshit junior high politics and together they found solace in knowing that someday they would have the last laugh.   That someday the tables would turn and their clothes wouldn't end up getting stolen during gym class or their bra straps snapped as they sit in class.   Two years of a slow hell was speckled with the most amazingly funny moments, sleepovers, roamings of our local mall and then they were thrust into high school. For one tiny nanosecond there was hope at the end of the tunnel because everyone was an incoming freshman that they were ALL fresh meat, but alas it slowly darkened when they realized it was even worse when you had older more schooled predators with more vicious antics.  Maybe this is an exaggeration, but not too far off.  With high school came new teachers, new pressures, new faces and new humiliation. In the form of that one unrequited crush who with a straight face informs her she should stick to dating people of her own social class. Stick to dating people on her level. And in her mind this equated her fat ass and she set out to starve herself down to a zero only to be rebuffed yet again.  Then the girl's heart was truly broken when the time came for the second girl to move clear across the country, and an aching hole was left in the young girl's heart, and it took everything she had not to burn the whole fucking school down. 

Instead she chose to harden her heart, and rip it straight out of her chest, leaving a gaping hole that no one, nothing could fill, and she liked it that way. The freedom to be void of feeling, to be void of anything because it was easier than having the responsibility of giving a shit to only be knocked down over and over. To be disappointed, to be ashamed of everything she wasn't and horrified by everything she was.  Well, that was way too much heavy shit to lift, so she stuck to coasting through school, and getting the endless stream of criticism from counselors and AP teachers, all the while becoming a human garbage disposal for anything she could get her hands on in the way of drugs. She lingered long enough to make her presence forgettable and then due to a number of bad choices stemming from a number of bad days she ended up graduating without her peers in a school a 100 miles away in a city where no one knew her name. And the funniest part is that stupid bitch two days after graduation packed her car and hightailed it back to the same town she wanted to drop a nuclear bomb on. And so it was the rest is history.

Well that was well over 16 years ago when this tale started, and that pimply faced greasy 7th grader is still trapped in my fucking mind. She still lingers inside gnawing away at my innards for lunch, squirming and wondering if she is ever good enough. I feel it every time I look in the mirror, every time I pinch the fat on my thighs, every time I look at my kids and wonder if I am doing everything I can to be a good mom. With every word that comes out of my mouth I cannot snatch back and every word I write on paper, bleeding through, wondering it its ever enough.

And then I slap that silly little whiny cunt back into check because who doesn't feel the same way? Or at the very least who remembers and holds onto that shit? What about that boy all those years ago who looked down his nose at her? Does he even know who the fuck she is now? Probably not. And that girl who moved so far away is just a plane ride away, the one friend who held on so tightly, fiercely when all others slipped away. Something tells me she isn't dwelling on the past, and she is here because she wants the now, the present of what life has.



Why do you ask am I even worrying about this stuff? Well that little spoiled pathetic self loathing girl has reared her ugly head and is slowly trying to make her way out....is this because I have had a horrible time at work lately with people who act like petty teenagers? Or is it because I am having a post 30 crisis and wondering what the hell happened to me that I worry what others think?

There is this saying that the age you first smoke pot at is the age you stay at. Thus your maturity level is indicative of your first attempt to regress or stunt this said maturity. That being said I should be a 17 year old perpetually-which I would give anything to fit into the jeans I did at 17.


lol. All joking aside, I think about this now because I wonder if this has something to do with my strange digression into memory lane, the paths twisting and turning, but never crossing. I am not blind to the fact I have so much to be thankful for. And the list will never stop, but sometimes its surreal,  words that get lost in an echo down some far off hallway, trying to explain, stumbling, and bumbling how I wish I knew what I was. that I wish I knew where I was going and where I had been. I wish I knew what the world had in store for me beyond this.

I know one thing is for sure. I have been trying my damnedest to find out these last few weeks. And all I can equate myself to is some bitch who carried a broom, and got her life snuffed out by some perky breasted chick with a lapdog and no GPS. And she stole my damn shoes as well. And still had 3 dudes following her around everywhere she went.

High school all over again.

Getting back in the swing of things...and not the black furry sex toy on back order....

I want to start out today's blog with a heartfelt apology because it has over 30 days since my last one and God knows I humor myself into thinking maybe some of you actually religiously check back to see if I post something and then are felled with disappointment because I haven't... If that isn't the case....well humor me anyway and allow me the delusion of an occult following. 

I mean how can I call this Rambling of an Ovary when said ovary has been silent....coincidence that I was over a week late and ovulated twice this month? Probably a little TMI but then something tells me the silence of my womb mirrors the silence of my mind....

That being said, its time for me to get back into the saddle and get my groove back, my mojo, if I ever had any...and I am talking about the charismatic and witty flow of my ingenius postings, comments, and otherwise spectacularly cool diatribes...I seem to have lost it in these recent weeks and I have stuck up those annoyingly grainy lost posters all over town to no avail....so here's to hoping it can make its way back to me.


I want to preface what is about to follow with a couple of things. A) I adore, love, would kill, maim and completely eviscerate those who harm my children, and would sail the 7 seas, walk at a fat girl pace through fire for them. B) regardless of what I write, what I say, I am genuinely a kind person who absolutely craves, needs people to understand me and they cannot or choose not to and sometimes it because otherwise problematic especially in my professional life.

That being said Charlotte and I have had a somewhat rocky past few weeks....further disappointment from 1/2 of her DNA donor, followed by doctor's visits, and then a grueling Lemonade Day and she and I both need a vacation from the life that is ours......Like this mini vaca with fun mani/pedi and lots of girly giggling and cuddling and movie watching.....but then there is the fact we would have to come home at some point and that is the problem.

Sometimes I wonder if its not the geography of it, but rather the fact that I cannot change who I am and that seems to be a resounding echo in my personal and professional life as well as my head. Not in a crazy I hear voices, although I admit I sometimes talk to myself, but in a self degradation kind of way where I hate myself, loathe myself, and yet blow myself away sometimes with what I can do. Like I learn to set the bar low, so when and if I succeed I am able to relish in it even more.

Don't get me wrong, I have flaws, I am learning to accept those flaws, and now I am learning to even embrace them.See, I strive everyday to be the best mother I am able to be. That may not be gauged as the best mother to some or reach some marker that is set by textbook standards, but its my personal best, and I give it my 210%, I give it my all. And sometimes, just sometimes, it is grueling, backbreaking sweat work that leaves me simply drained....too drained to even keep my commitments to my family, my children, myself...I keep the ones to my job because its the bread and butter and we would starve otherwise.


So in a nut shell the past month saw Charlotte raise $384 for charity which she selflessly gave away to a homeless shelter and a homeless veterans program....it saw Max putting sentences together....and repeating holy shit from his father. We know I am not the culprit because he hasn't said fuck....that being said he graduated out of ECI services and is doing better at school. I still have vowed not to cut his hair and it flows like golden hippy locks around his cute chubby face....and what a chub he has become....

Charlotte is away at her first week at church camp and loving from what I can see from the pictures online from camp.....she has gotten TONS of mail even from my father and she is going to make tons of friends...how can she not with such an infectiously sunny personality?!! She doesn't get it from me...She made it out of the 3rd grade with stellar grades, and is moving on the 4th and is a little nervous and yet stoked. As class parent I compiled a classroom cookbook that kicked ass! It rocked! I stole the idea from another mother and stripped it down to the basics to make it my own. Instead of fancy schmancy recipes I decided I would have each parent submit their favorite kids recipe. Totally worth it....despite some lazy ass parents who didn't give a shit it was awesome! And cute as all get out. Gloating aside, the teacher cried, the kids autographed it for her, and it will be a keepsake for the books for her. And me. Gave me a slew of ideas for family stuff and gifts...

So I took a vow of veganism for the summer and have been cheating...I hate to admit it, but my affair with cheese is getting our of control and I need to reign myself in and break it off.....I mean I am going to lose the last 20 lbs I want to, I am going to go back to feeling good and by God I miss that goddamn glow I had in lieu of this spotty, oily combo skin due to humidity and bad hair.

That being said, I have decided to burden my plate with yet another project....One I hope will skyrocket to the moon so I can quit my job....which since i last left you has only become a tad more intolerable, but less detrimental to my mental health....due in a large part because I don't give a fuck.

So what is this new idea you ask? You didn't? Well-I am going to tell you anyway. I have begun using a ecological-vegan-cruelty free mineral makeup out of Oregon...heard about it on The Kind Life blog...tried it and loved it. Found something so amazing for my skin I could go on and on and on but I am not a pusher..at least not if I don't get paid.  Anyway-I ran out and had to order more. Its fairly cheap in comparison to makeup counters and Sephora etc. but the shipping is what kills. So I Googled to find a store, boutique, anything with this line of makeup. NOTHING IN TEXAS. Can you believe that? Not even at Whole Foods Market where they'd jack the price up even more and steal my wallet and pension at the same time.  Nope. Not even commericalized hippy hell has it.

So I started brainstorming and thinking and researching. I have not been able to find a "green" makeup store that carries facial products and bath products and different lines of makeup.   I thought even further and got to thinking I could carry hemp clothing or eco friendly hand crafted fair trade clothing along with conflict free artisan jewelry....long story short, the Green Man's Daughter is born. And if any of you fucking jack that name before I register it I swear to the gods I will hunt you down and kill you. Maim you. Poke your eyeballs out. and maybe even gut you.


On top of all this stuff the most exciting personal tidbit I left out....I am going to get to interview and write a piece for the second issue of Act Badd!!!!!!!!!! Totally stoked...something about seeing your name in print is so glorifying and ego stroking.....def beats a good piece of chocolate cake and sex.....ok, so maybe not the cake, but close!



I know this was short, but I will do more later....I PROMISE, I SWEAR-I have to...my mom's been bugging me about it because she doesn't have shit to read in the car in the morning....(and obviously she isn't doing the driving if you all just read that and had a panic attack looking for some woman in Guatemalan pants in the EZ tag lane, Kindle in hand, eyes diverted....)

I leave you with a fortune cookie I found in the bottom of my purse on a day I especially needed this mass produced with lotto numbers included affirmation:

The death of a salesman selling martyrdom and the unrepenting sinner who slammed the front door

Let me start out by saying that this almost 2 week hiatus was a very much self imposed exile...me on a deserted island some where far off and after 2 weeks I felt like I was going to start talking to a damn volley ball or worse, cannibalizing myself...or it can be more  accurately described as self inflicted because it felt like i was a cutter and the burning slices through my skin were a choice....maybe that's a little extreme and in no way is meant to undercut the severity of cutting...I mean hey! if you're having to wear turtle necks in July, and buy razor blades by the dozen or hoard broken bottles in your dresser drawers then please seek the help you need. I could give you the names of a few health professionals......

Either way...I needed those 2 weeks because I had reached a point of no return and felt my body slowly shutting down....a silent dark cloud was drifting over me, and I know I know...you would dub me Cymbalta and make some crack about depression, but it was much simpler than that....being burnt out has nothing to do with depression or anxiety or anything else a tiny little pink or blue pill can relieve for hours at a time....its about a way of life that is burdening you emotionally and in this case physically, so you find yourself drifting mentally at work, bored on the ride home, and tossing and turning on a heating pad for your hip that seems to be aching from the nothingness....

I had last left off chewing the ears of helpless Cadbury critters, and a lot has happened in that time span....let's start with a little musing on families. As you know from previous posts I can pontificate and dissect and analyze the whole dysfunctional family concept until the cows come home to graze.....but cud is cud, and it doesn't make it any less nasty. Neither does trying to figure out what the hell families are made of...what they should be....and what they aren't...

And so it was that the weekend of Easter Marcus' grandfather Nazario passed away....first lets preface this by saying he fell ill and had to be hospitalized and Marcus didn't get the call until he had been in the hospital for a week....and by then he had pneumonia, and it was Wednesday.....Three days later I was fielding calls from a distant aunt in Portland that he had taken a turn for the worse aka stroke and was now in a coma....by afternoon a text simply announcing "Grandpa died" was the only communicating line between a scattered group of misfits....

Mind you the back story may shed some light on the whole family dynamic....abusive, alcoholic father finds God and changes life for the better once being saved....but only after irreversible damage is done to now grown up children who scatter to the 7 winds and make every effort to NOT conform to the way of their father's new found salvation in Jehovah....

Please keep in mind I am a very open, very liberal person in regards to religion...my mother and I are devout Episcopalians, my step father is a Wiccan, my sister is an amalgamation of Episcopalian principles and jaded agnostic views almost bordering faint atheist....and my father picks and choices aspects of the Anglican faith melded with hippy dippy self help books....we have Buddhists and Catholics, and holy roller Baptists....I am quite familiar with the Latter Day Saints aka people on bikes, and I truly believe we all have the same idea.

I am stealing this from Ice-T: "You are either a good person or you're a bad person". Essentially he hit the nail on the head....all religions regardless of tyrannical and oppressive attributes and varying dress and rituals all have the same sort of idea....live a righteous life, live a good life for the benefits of others.

However, this is also not a free pass once you find your path or the light or have been saved to take the high road and preach to others. This also does not unfortunately ever erase the damage done by prior sins...

And so it was that we made the decision to take the ass numbing journey to Longview because only one of his four children had planned to go....someone from his past needed to be there in his present to represent the future he left behind...or maybe I was fooling myself, and just wanted to go out of curiosity to see what people would say about a man I had only met a handful of times and could never communicate with because of the language barrier....but still sent a card to every holiday...

So we stuffed ourselves into the car and made the journey, snacks and juice boxes keeping us fueled until we hit the 903 area code. And then it went downhill.  Let me start out by saying we all can find flaws in our in laws and families....its more than the ha-ha joke of the dreaded mother in law or groping drunk uncle.....its while we might despise our own family, somehow we hold them on a higher pedestal than our spouses and somehow what is normal to them, is completely utterly despicable and debauchery to us....its a fact. Admit it. You do it too....

But most of you are probably smart enough to keep it hidden in the recesses and fat folds of the grey matter between your ears...

For those of us stupid enough, callous enough and vile enough to say those things....well it makes situations like this even more tragic. My mother in law is nice. Do not get me wrong in that I can honestly state she is very gracious and boisterous and overall happy go lucky....But she is as selfish as selfish come, and being a mother was an oversight on her part....it was an inconvenience that has seemed to resolve itself when my husband made his way to adulthood, and somehow the idea of grand motherhood is an idea better left on paper...she also finds it difficult to not fill her day with drinking round the clock and this lifestyle has deteriorated her since I last saw her at our wedding....from weight loss to the fact she doesn't even know our names.....

In that single moment standing in a dead man's house to change clothes, I felt like I should have stayed at home....it was this eerie out of body experience where I was watching the dramady of another family and did not recognize the players, the lines or even why the fuck I was sitting there watching it...

That was the tip of the ice berg.  I felt since he was a Jehovah Witness, and was cremated that black was not necessarily entirely the protocol for this occasion, and decided to wear a dark taupe pants suit with heels. Very demur and yet classy with a brass button top.....think a sergeant pepper type jacket....at least that's what Marcus calls me.   Well I had no clue that pants are frowned upon.  And so I walked into the Kingdom Hall ignorant and basically offending a number of parishioners...or Witnesses...or followers.  I am ignorant to the lingo, and as ashamed as I am to say this, I was always one of those teach your kids moms that you slam the door shut or hide so they don't leave a copy of the Watch Tower at your door..

Second to that offense is the fact that everyone speaks Spanish, not English and except for my mother-in-law, his widow, wife #2, Marcus and the kids and I, not a single other family member came. Over 250 people attended his memorial especially since it turns out he was an Elder, like standing room in the hall over the intercom, sobbing, emoting and I sat there completely emotionless because I didnt' feel right....plus no windows and no crosses or religious icons of faith sent me into a catatonic state of disbelief.

I find my religion, my faith is rooted in my personal relationship with whatever that belief is and while I love the feeling I get from genuflecting at church and taking Communion, I don't feel that my personal religious purpose is to absolutely dedicate my life to the church....it seems so strange, so alien to me to live your life being told what to do, when to do it to the point of losing your own identity.

But then I accept the fact and was in awe really of the dedication these people have to their religion....I mean maybe in some ways I feel its almost on the verge of a Jonestown type atmosphere, but I didn't see any Kool-aid so I know it was at least safe for now...

Fast forward to an ass numbing ride back and then we are here busy preparing for Charlotte's birthday party....a really nifty and groovy spa day in Katy with 8 little girls who in one overnight at the Sheraton West taught me how great medical science is to have evolved with birth control. That the NuvaRing is the next best thing since the Bacon Shake at Jack in the Box, and the best part of the whole awesome fun filled weekend....2 things. A) I got to send all those snotty ass bitches back to their snotty ass mothers and B) I now have a deeper and complete with heaving sigh of relief moment because I realize Charlotte is not nearly as screwed up like these other kids....not only was she on her best behavior and completely thankful, but the crap these kids say....let's just say mommy and daddy don't want to know their little bitty blow habit, parental bickering, and kids in therapy moments were shared as if discussing the next Justin Bieber video. I mean maybe its me, but every time I wish I was rich, I have to reconsider because the issues these kids have make me happy that we're poor...And most of all it made me realize (I guess I am managing to weasel in #3) that my mother blows my mind with the sacrifices and shit she does for me, my sister and my kids....she made this one of the best birthdays that Charlotte has ever had...hands down. For that moment on Saturday sitting in that spa, Charlotte was the girl all the others envied....and it was wonderful to see her enjoy something I couldn't otherwise have given her.

Needless to say we were exhausted when we hit the sack on Sunday, and I think even the anticipation of her actual birthday on Monday wasn't enough to keep her from falling asleep at 7:30 at night.

Then Charlotte rang in her 9th birthday the next day, Monday, and I lay there that morning thinking back to that day at 1:45 am when I finally pushed the little bugger out, and remembering in that moment that everyone in the room (save for the asshole whose DNA she shares) came together...it was like I had given my dad, my mom, John, and most of all myself a purpose to life we hadn't had before....Don't mistake this for some noble holier than thou attempt at idolizing myself for having a child...I won't start popping them out right and life because its my purpose or because its God's will....But in that quiet moment in that delivery room I felt like this shift in balance, and I looked at my parents, and then into her deep blue eyes and I knew nothing. Absolutely nothing would ever be the same. Ever. And it scared the living shit out of me. And she still does. But in a good way. Like in that put your arms out and spin until you cannot spin anymore and fall over keeling with laughter....

That day was her day to shine. Because she is walking, talking, laughing proof that of my salvation. Because she is absolutely unequivocally the reason I am alive today. Because she is one of the most awesome kids you will ever meet, and she deserves that one day to be the center of it all. So many days, so much of her life is played out being some fixture in the background of everything else, and between having Max, and the shit at work, and PTA, and her dad, and just time to breathe, it can be completely fucked up and unfair that she is left out in the cold. (not literal in a CPS knocking on our door with frost bitten kid way).

It would have been even better if she had gotten a call from her father....and not at the last minute as an after thought as what happened while we were eating dinner at CPK....She spent the rest of last week waiting for a card that never came, and the sinking realization he didn't really give a shit to begin with....Don't get me wrong...she got the Toms she was so desperately wanting, and the feather in her hair, and some cool stuff...none of it made a difference. It was the thought. It was that her Paki, my dad who I have numerous times bitched about his selfishness called her at 7 am, my parents, her great-grandfather, her baby brother, her step dad all celebrated in some way with her....we all remembered...how can we not?  Our lives wouldn't be the same without her..


Two weeks of no entries, now going on 3 and I don't know if I still have your attention, but if I do then know this isn't going to be that much longer....My hand is getting tired and I need to wrap it up so I can actually write about something fresh and cool...and maybe a little funny?  Anyway-the week ended with this awesome opportunity, thanks to a great gal, Jennie Orellana, to write a hip hop blog for Act Badd Productions...something that seems totally the polar opposite of me, but is really part of my former drug addled self I can mesh and merge into my life now...besides, it gets my foot in the door of something so much more with my writing.....if you know me, you'll know I would give anything to write for the Houston Press or some awesome publication..

oh-and that neighbor who got shipped off to rehab leaves a vacancy in my complex and God knows I could use the extra $200 referral money to buy more birth control or feed the kids I have, so if you need a place let me know!


Otherwise....peace out, dawg....ok-so that was a half ass attempt at using cool lingo and I better just stick to old school style....so please stay tuned tomorrow when I get back on track....say a few Hail Mary's for me .....

Restless late night rendezvous' with tasty ear less rabbits by fridge light...

Let me start out by saying that today is not going to be anything of significance. It will not be a funny, ha-ha leave you doubled over with a stream of chortles and giggles echoing down the hall.....it won't leave you wiping the snot off your nose, and rubbing your achy eyes from the sappy emotional stimulation you get....it won't probably leave you feeling anything....except maybe disgust from the path this seems to be taking....I mean like get out the puke bucket now type of disgust....or maybe pity. And I can tell you right now I don't want, need or even care about shit like that now.

I have hit rock bottom and my indulgence, my drug is stale marshmallow Easter bunnies I stole from my kids baskets....obviously not vegan approved and so I am sitting in the privacy of my closet sucking them down in guilt....at least its better than falling off the wagon...or at least the more severe wagon like snorting or shooting up..no, now I'll just be constipated for 2 days.


See, I have had a really shitty week, and quite honestly the only things keeping me sane are my 2 kids and even those are beginning to wear me down a little....even those little fingers pinching my cheeks are not enough to keep the flood gates from crashing down. And the crashing came last night as we sat snuggled on the couch watching Ramona and Beezus....and I just lost it....at the scene where Picky Picky dies...you know the one? Well if you haven't read the book, but at least seen the movie or vice versa...well you know...

Little girl with big sister having to bury family pet in backyard....especially given previous drama and sisterly fight between the two prior to this bring together moment...well-it got me all worked up....and then I just couldn't stop it once it started and then it just kept coming and coming and coming.....try explaining to an 8 year old and 2 year old how something like that epitomized your current situation on so many levels....but who has time for a much needed cry anymore? I had to suck it up, and dry my eyes and usher little heathens to shower and beds, and exhausted I lay there last night unable to sleep...

All I wanted to do was cry until my eyes and heart dried up....I just wanted to be numb.  Strangely, this is what drove me to drugs the first time around and now I am driven to secret rendezvous with the Maytag man and his contents.

I just don't have it in me to cope with anything anymore...and not because I want to be a defeatist or failure or someone who gives up....I just cannot stomach it. I cannot mentally handle it....my brain is going to explode....I could spend an entire hour sitting here trying to come up with something witty to say....some anecdote to relay, something worth reading....but all I can do is lay at night and just toss and turn, staring at the ceiling wondering who the fuck I am and why am I so miserable?

I mean let's start with item No.1: my sister. Or lack thereof.

We have never been close. Blame it on difference in personality. Blame it on me wanting a brother and not a sister. Blame it on the fact that she chose one side and I the other. And the side she hates.  Blame it on unhealthy sibling rivalry. Blame it on people pitting me against her in some battle of who is a success versus the black sheep. Blame it on our genetics. Blame it on environmental reasons. Blame it on me. Blame it on her. Just accept it.


Whatever the case may be, the fact remains we are distant....and yet in the past 2 years I was working really really really hard to make it work. I quite honestly can admit I had found a friend I never knew I had in the one person I resented and disliked the most....ok, second to my father, but still.  We had forged this strained bond that left us for some moments coming together for just the present. To spending time together, to frantic crazy phone calls only us Uresti's would understand for even crazier advice. To weird inside jokes that will leave me laughing for years. I had managed to find a way to relate to someone who is totally unrelatable.

Mind you, I will be the first to admit how envious of her I am....I think I would be a big fat pants on fire liar if I said I didn't get somewhat green thinking of all that she has going on, all that she has accomplished and wondering if I didn't have children would I be the same. But then I realize no. My 1st child saved me from overdosing, and my 2nd has only reinforced it, and so I would be fooling myself and the world if I ever thought I could measure up to half of what my sister is in her professional and academic life. Hell, even her personal life seems way more blissful than mine right now.

But regardless of said envy, I truly had begun to feel like she gave a shit about me and my petty little life.  The reality is with law school, tax journal, internships, booking classes and being the all around "good one", there was little room for the mundane and ordinary aspects of my life in hers....but even so she had made this quantum leap into building something...I don't yet know what....and as luck would have it will never get hte chance to....

I mean lets face it....may be it was meant to be short lived....however fleeting, I will never forget her being there in the room when Max was born (grey, traumatized and all), I will never forget the few moments we have had the past year between phone calls and much needing venting over lunches....

But the truth is it wasn't enough.....here she is four months later still ignoring me, casting me out of Eden so to speak because of some unforgivable sin....an extremely "you know what you did and you must apologize" hissing, and there I was. Alone. Sisterless. Completely alone.  And people wonder why the hell I would have chosen a brother over this bullshit.

The reality is that I don't know what it is I supposedly did, I am not going to apologize, and I don't give a shit. And yet none of this makes me feel any better. None of this makes me sleep any better. And none of this changes that I do in fact give a shit. More than a shit.  And so I toss and turn. And toss and turn.


item No. 2:  my job. I go everyday and work everyday because I have to. Because it's my duty, its what I have to do. Because I am caught up in some lame ass cycle we all are as hardworking Americans where we take on financial obligations and lifestyle changes and sometimes after 2 or 3 or fuck, 20 years working with no substantial change in your salary, and the finances rising and rising.....well you can see how it can be a daunting and bleak outlook on life....I mean I said it before and I will say it again. I am worth more dead than alive.....and lately that dead doesn't look too bad.

I am listless and tired and just plain burnt out on the job, the people, my routine. my life.  I would give anything to stay home with my son, be there with baked cookies when Char gets off the bus, and volunteer 20 hours a week at a soup kitchen or a co-op or something. But spiritual and moral fulfillment never equated keeping a roof over my kids heads....and nowhere in the employment handbook does it talk about passion and being synonymous with your career.

Nope, here I am stuck in a dead end job surrounded by people who laugh at me and wondering how the fuck did I get here. Oh, that's right. I didn't finish college. I didn't gain better employment skills. Or maybe not better but more varied.  And I didn't want it bad enough to change it.


And that keeps me tossing and turning some more.


item No. 3:   my baby boy.  ECI has determined although he is wickedly smart, he is socially lagging behind...say 8 months behind...and speech isn't that far off....so in a nut shell he is 36 month level with his gross and fine motor skills....and 20-22 months on speech...and 16 months socially....

what does that mean you ask? It means he is basically unable to relate to kids his age in any setting....can rough house and play with an 8 year old, but is frustrated to tears with another 2 year old.....

so behavior therapy will take place 45 minutes every week, and the school is still adamant he isn't good enough to stay.....mind you 3 other kids are being seen at that school by ECI services....so we are caught in limbo....every other school whose list we took his name off when getting into this one has a 6 month waiting list....I don't know if we can wait that long....factor in further that he was placed in a class where every other kid is 6-8 months older than him...so now we might move him to the class below the one he's on....which a child we personally know who is only 4 days younger than Max is in.....

I lay awake wondering what I did wrong....whether I ate the wrong thing....skipped a prenatal....do I have bad genes? was it because I couldn't get him to breast feed as long as Charlotte....was it the fact I didn't get to stay home with him? Is it the fact that the gap between him and Charlotte is enough that they both exhibit signs of only child syndrome? Who the hell knows...all I know is that I roll over and watch him sleep...his soft curls, his chubby cheeks, and I ache inside because I don't know if I am mentally equipped to handle this....but I have no choice, and I would move Heaven and Earth for him and Charlotte so I know deep down I have what it takes....

item No. 4:  all this shit doesn't mean anything because I need to be grateful. This is the hardest thing to wrap my brain around, the thing that breaks me out in hives that now cover my chest and neck and leave me a garish red scaly beast. This is the thing that finally brings my restlessness to a close.  The fact that no matter all the previous shit I described, ranted, raved and just plain griped....it doesn't matter because there is so much less I could have.....and what little I do I cherish so much more than my limited vocabulary can express...

 and so it is I leave you with these thoughts that make it worth dragging my ass out of bed....makes it worth taking that deep breath of air each day instead of holding it in until I pass out into oblivion.....

We are never given more than we can handle. Or at least I try and believe this.....its comforting to know that at the very least I am testing my limitations and finding out what exactly I am capable...even if it means I am constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown...

These weary bones of mine ache for change, ache for something more and by God I have to find what it will take to ease the soreness and pain....even if it eludes me, even if it takes a lifetime and I die trying to find it....it's all I can do.

Chocolate Easter bunnies are better frozen and then eaten..and you should always start at the ears first...


and so it is I finally roll over exhausted from the tossing and turning and pass smooth the fuck out...

Suicide, cookies and a half ass chance at being a millionaire...

So-obviously if I am blogging today we know I did not win the Mega Millions....no, alas I failed to make that flight to Maryland to purchase my $600 million jackpot ticket ( ok, so there was really 3 different winners so I guess it would only be $213 million but still), although I am certain the fates intended it for me nonetheless....so I must resign to return to my ho-hum life....minus a new flashy car or ginormous maison...at this point I would just settle for a long overdue raise....or a car with a working A/C because mine decided to take a vacation...or something with 4 walls and no pot smoking asshole neighbors dropping beer bottles on our patio...

Mai non! C'est la vie...ou plutôt que c'est ma vie ... semble être la manière cerise sur le gâteau ....merde de qui se passe est une autre façon de le dire ... mon préféré ...


And so it is I decided to throw out said cookies, to wash the crap off my shoes and  to get a jump start for my Kickstart...another 21 days of veganism...and this time I am actually welcoming it with open arms because I need need in my aching joints and bones, something amazing to happen to change the monotony of my life right now....I mean isn't that how it happens....We have to make change if we want change.....and not in the vague and anti climatic slogan of Obama....no, real change is made in the trenches by real back breaking sweat salt of the Earth type of people...not by weak ass people who talk out their asses instead of actually backing it up with actions...sitting behind desks snacking on Ding Dongs and Debbie Snack Cakes....or my preference, Hot Tamales and Hershey bars....

I am sure that whole thought right there could have been phrased a little more articulately....but you get the gist of it.....I have decided to take action....to do something about the to do list that seems to be growing and growing and growing.....and most of all I have vowed to do something about my attitude....to not lose such hope in life...and to be patient with things, people...with this goddamn computer that keeps crashing while I write this....Maybe karma telling me I should be doing something more productive with my lunch hour....

Either way....I will be choosing to do something better with myself, as myself for the benefit of others during this 21 days....I did however, choose to take the opportunity Sunday to go out with a bang....ate probably at least 5-7 lbs of crawfish ALONE and that's extra extra spicy...not including my husband's that I polished off.....that should tide me over until I decide to venture back to the dark side again....for now I am munching on my hummus and grilled veggies and thinking about the days ahead...

This week started quietly with a visit from ECI yesterday so I escaped the trappings and confines of my job and headed home for a 1/2 day...granted this was met with grunts and grumbles and whispers, but I didn't give a crap....my head wasn't there and my heart had caught a bus out a long time ago....lately I seem to be so burnout I have this "ehhh..shrug" attitude....you know the one....where tons of hard work goes unnoticed and it isn't that you do it to be a martyr....besides I think there's a weight limit for the wooden cross so crucifixion is out and as we can all tell I definitely have a problem with the whole starvation thing....no, its more a "this is my work ethic"and at some point I hold out hope, some sick twisted psycho thought that it would pay off....and by pay off I meant like some sort of validation....pathetic I know....but a thought nonetheless...

so back to me and the Maxx and two really nice ladies from ECI sitting in my cramped and newly painted living room....for 3.5 hours...3.5 hours....of playing and controlled testing, and lots and lots of meltdowns, and I found out the following:


My kid is NOT the dumbass those people at his school thought....he is NOT autistic...his problem solving and fine motor skills are that of a 3 year old and up...what he lacks is socialization skills of a 2 year old which somehow goes hand in hand with the whole speech thing....and so it is we will now have a behavior therapist coming out to our home 1hr a week to work with him....


So I filled out all this paperwork and we put a plan in place.. and so it was I went to bed with a glimmer of hope and a HUGE HUGE overdue sigh of relief that everything would be ok....backed up by a week of good reports from school and I lay there thinking last night that he, we were going to be alright...that all that guilt, all that shame I felt sitting in that initial meeting with the administration and being talked at instead of to....well, here he had the opportunity to remain at the very school he finally was beginning to adjust to...

Well......that was until I received a call first thing this morning..... from the school assistant director who interrogated me with 20 questions about the appointment....before I had a chance to email her about it....She actually sounded pissy that he wasn't handicapped or mentally delayed and then reiterated to me the need for him to be observed at school....that these specialists, people with ACTUAL DEGREES AND CERTIFICATIONS AND TRAINING in these areas couldn't make a full assessment unless he was seen at school... Mind you this was after I dropped him off to a very surprised teacher who had that deer in the headlights look....but they cashed that tuition check as fast as they could.

It took everything I had not to explode, to cry, to scream, to reach through the motherfucking phone and choke the living shit out of this woman....who mind you spends a inordinate amount of time chain smoking across the street from the school....so I wonder how much directing she actually manages to get done....

So in lieu of physical violence and the risk of damaging office supplies and property, I chose to write her a very informative email....I outlined all the results which I also scanned and attached, as well as the plan the caseworker and I had mapped out for him....and most of all I mentioned the 3 things that bothered me most:


+One-that we were asked to provide a family photo his 1st day of school and it has not been hung in the classroom at all.

+Two-that his name was just last week placed on his cubby and his pocket. And there is still no picture of my child on his pocket.

*please note number 1 & 2 are indications with anyone as paranoid and hypersensitive as me that they had no definitive plans for him to stay since day 1.

Was this an error on someones part that he ended up in possibly another child's slot who was higher up in the enrollment list??? And they are just too chicken shit to say anything???

+Three-that the ECI caseworker let me know 4 other kids who attend that school have SEVERE behavior issues, receive services through ECI there at school and are still allowed to attend.


What now, bitch?

No response as of yet, and so it is I am beginning to feel the acid churn and brew and splash around in my hummus filled tummy, and I begin to wonder if I jumped the gun....I mean here I am being told by a child therapist that giving him the boot will only fuck him up more...and this lady is excitedly window shopping for the perfect boot....

Of course that could be my paranoia..or it could be the fact that I couldn't see her face when I heard her tone....yet another reason I hate talking on the phone...so impersonal...but so is this....it's just less painless....

And so I feel a migraine coming on....and then I count to 10, take a deep breath .....

This too shall pass. Right? Or at the very least it will take longer than a few days in a short holiday week...right??? Come on....I need some assurance here....or at the least a Peptid for the tummy thing....

so I direct my attention to my soon to be Friday off....complete with dyeing eggs, more birthday planning for Shark, designing of a t-shirt for her lemonade stand....and finishing some more painting...


Ugh....just thinking about it seems crazy and hectic.....but then it fills me with this inner calmness and joy because I have shit like that to fill my day rather than sitting around alone..depressed and thinking of suicide...

And that isn't an over exaggeration....I have and do and then slap the snot out of myself because that's selfish when I have two wonderful little people counting on me to keep my shit together....it isn't I think about it to be selfish....it's more a I thought about it because I have a life insurance policy and it would take care of Marcus and the kids for a while....


Isn't it ironic that I could work the next 5 years and never make enough to get ahead, but if I kick the bucket it pays out 15 years worth of salary?

Am I the only one who sees something seriously skewed? Or am I just the only one with a really low paying shitty high stress job....I mean I bet the walls of my flabby heart are having a field day....and coming in 12th place...


And so I prepare to go home....where I will finish up the design for the Shark's stand shirts....I need a catchy slogan so inquiring minds please think and strain like you would for a hemorrhoid and let me know....

The sale of each shirt will feed a homeless family or vet.  I also have to finish the posters and send to the printers....at least this is one ginormous thing that makes me feel good....that I have a compassionate enough child that she gives a fuck about others....and recognizes the need to give back...even if its only a little...and even if she still slams her door in my face half the time....

Speaking of which...she just got back her door and has been slam free going on 4.5 days....


So I bid you adieu, bien nuit!

Marriage is like gardening...you can't do it with a fucked up ho

For those of you who care about annoyingly gushy stuff like this, yesterday was my one year anniversary....of marriage bliss to one of the most patient people I have met....which is an oxymoron given that he huffs and puffs just like the bad wolf, but never actually blows the house down in the end....instead he seems to tucker out and sputter like a car running out of steam or fuel....and then he just stews, and brews...and usually allows me to have my way but not in a spoiled principessa kind of way....and he is still there....

and that's what today's rant...musing....wonderfully honey coated syrupy ode is for...my husband, Marcus,  who I do not give nearly nearly nearly enough credit....underestimate, and as some have been so quick to point, may emasculate, with my need to control (which I am constantly working on)...because I never really had one who wanted to stay.....

Which is the whole point of the whole marriage institution thing, right? That we find that one person who can bring enough balance to our life and accept us and everything (or lack thereof) that we offer, and still stay. That is the key. The staying part....the part where they stand and take that vow, those words enter the atmosphere and they don't race to snatch them back....

Granted all you guys who know me, and truly know me, are scratching your heads in confusion because it was I that did the leaving of husband #1.....but that's also the other half of the whole marriage thing as well...that you bloody well acknowledge that there will be times you have to throw in the towel because it's an utter train wreck and that is no way to live....whether he's stooping someone else...or you are....or he beats you, screams at your or you at him...or the kids are the only reason you stay....or you lay at night listening to him breath and realize if you smothered him and buried him behind the barn no one would care....this last thought is a GLOWING FLASHING neon sign you should hightail it out of there....and I did. 

I spent the first few years wondering what I had done wrong....why had I made such a life altering decision, disregarding the magnitude of the situation and what it meant.....promising yourself to someone forever, whether you are the marrying or monogamous type, is a pretty damn serious decision....and for me it wasn't the death til you part sleeping with the same one person forever.....I think most of you have gathered I have serious dad issues which contribute to my life long quest for that one person to fill the void, to make me feel loved and who will "take care of me" -which violently clashes with my whole feminist woman of her own right kinda mentality and taking care of  myself....but I never said I made sense, in fact I am quite complicated which is probably why marriage #1 was doomed from the start....because he was simple-what you see was what you got....a narcissistic, bipolar person who seemed distant and out of touch with reality....or at least this reality and not his reality...

You may ask what the whole thing was to start us off...what attraction? I can honestly say it was that he wasn't a douche bag who beat me, cheated on me or treated me like shit or broke my heart....and that was the only qualifications I had at the time.  Little did I know he would be disqualified for at least half of those by the time I left, and now I wonder how I could have settled for someone who never wanted me in the first place.    I don't regret it because if anything I got the best part of him, the only thing he will ever be able to say is an accomplishment in this lifetime, and that's our daughter...and for that I am eternally grateful.

That being said I spent the last 2 years after I left him racking my brain, by heart, my soul to understand what it was about me that made me bad wife material.  I had progressed from non prom material  in high school to non girlfriend material post high school and now was working on the title of non wife material.....Was I that much an unconventional girl that I was trying so hard to be something I wasn't that it backfired?

And then the my grandmother Rosa died and screwed everything up....all my pontificating, and soul searching went out the window the day I sat on that stool at the airport bar....I have never been a great believer in fate....I think we have to sort of make our own...it's like the whole God and miracles thing....I believe in him/her, but I also know he isn't using us as some pawns, playing with us like the shoe or dog on Park Place in Monopoly, and so its just one of those we have to make things happen and he watches to see what path we take, what we do decide to do....anyway, fate is like that....we have options and when we make them it seals it, and there you go. Your life goes one way when it could have easily gone another...

Were Marcus and I fate? That day I sat down and got tanked before my flight, was I destined to be with that cute button nosed bartender? Who knows. I don't know. But I sure as hell know it took a lot of courage to take his number and even more strength to make it up the escalator to my flight with the 2 Pilsners of Bud Light, and Irish coffee I downed to ease my sorrows associated with dying matriarchs and family you barely know now slipping away with the dirt we heaved into the hole...

Fast forward a month to this trip I took with someone who was a friend and is now just a lingering and nagging loose end I miss even when I don't damnit, who pushed me to call him, to invite him out to SPI and with that push of confidence from someone I owe most of what transpired next to and that phone call, the rest is say...history......what started out as some crazy half ass attempt to be shown a good time, he and I clicked in a way I cannot describe...

In a matter of months we were doing the whole long distance thing...and before I knew it I was hooked.....I treaded carefully and made every attempt to be as calm, cool collected as I can....but I failed utterly and ending up doing just what women like me loathe to do....writing sappy ass love emails, professing our love and intentions....Only this time I took a balls to the wall approach and let him have it....the unadulterated truth, take it or leave it ultimatum....

And I was left to stew for a month and a half....we laugh in hindsight at how scared shitless he was, how immature he was that he left me dangling like a worm....but he came around and before you knew it I was following in the footsteps of many a girlfriend that year, and becoming a member of the just engaged club.  April 26th. That's the date he kneeled, sunburned, tipsy and scared shitless to the point of shaking, and asked me to be something I had spent SOOOOOO long thinking I wasn't....and I paused.

I paused and in that moment I flashed through the whole list of reasons why not....the inevitable fights over stupid shit beyond our control....the possibility of him being one of those douche bags discussed earlier...I thought about the what if's and the what nots....and yes-it seems like it must have been a lengthy pause, but it wasn't that long....

and then it was like I shrugged and there was this a-ha moment...and I thought what if people say yes because they don't know about the what ifs and what nots...What if it's supposed to be about the not knowing part? And what if those fights don't even turn out to be fights? Or what if I am that person that can be a wife?


The loving him back part was a given since I confessed it first, but the rest was something I was willing to take one more stab in the dark at.....I had some experience albeit failed experience under my belt, and I felt I deserved one more shot at a normal life....plus it would be nice to have him full time instead of part time when the weekends allowed our schedules to mingle...so I said yes and the rest ensued...

The cohabitation, first at my parents until we found a place, and then where we seem to have fallen now....then came Max, and finally, as I like to do everything in a backasswards, unconventional way, we were married at this awesome place, Last Concert Cafe, with a small group of family and friends...and I still don't feel like a wife.

I don't feel like one because I don't have to stop and constantly remind myself what I am...I know it....

I have said before I found the piece to my missing puzzle...and I have...I found that one person who makes me realize I don't have to settle for second best...and even if I do, it's because he's what's best for me....I found that one person who handles my craziness even if he doesn't understand it...or fears it....found that one person who wants to stay with me until I am shriveled up and old, until we are tooling around on scooters down the halls of the old folk's home....

I found that one person who has seen me at my worst...with and without makeup....scars and sagging stretch marks, raccoon eyes with mascara dripping down my face.....who have seen me yelling, screaming, clawing.....damn, the man has a scar on his right cheek that is proof positive of the shit he puts up with...and still he stays....

I am not a great writer of poetry or love notes or stories of the Prince Charming.....and so it was obvious that when we did finally tie the knot I need someone who could inspire us to stay...inspire us to commit....who could express what I am too fowl, too vulgar to express.....

and so it was I turned to my stepfather....I couldn't very well ask my real father....what with his feelings toward me and the sage advice he told me the eve of my engagement (a spoiler because I didn't even have a hint about proposal..yet another reason he's an asshole) which serves as the title for this post...seriously...his favorite ism he came up with all on his own....maybe he should stick it on a bumper sticker or shirt or something...at least make a buck or two on his toxicity...

Anyway-so I leave you this day with a few words from John that rang in my ear last night as we lounged on the patio, surrounded by the two people who have supported us the most in our journey together, and Charlotte and Max who were our stowaways on this leg of it, chowing down on year old cake.....

" Marriage is a commitment for life- to the best that two people can find and bring out in each other. It offers opportunities for sharing and growth no other human relationship can equal, a physical and emotional joining that is promised for a lifetime.  Within the circle of its love, marriage encompasses all of life’s most important relationships.  A wife and a husband are each other’s best friend, confidante, lover, teacher, listener & critic.  There may come times when one partner is heartbroken or ailing, and the love of the other may resemble the tender caring of a parent for a child.

Marriage deepens & enriches every facet of life. Happiness is fuller, memories are fresher, commitment is stronger, even anger is felt more strongly, and passes away more quickly. 

Marriage understands and forgives the mistakes life is unable to avoid. It encourages & nurtures new life, new experiences, and new ways of expressing love through the seasons of life.

When two people pledge to love and care for each other in marriage, they create a spirit unique to themselves, which binds them closer than any spoken or written words.  Marriage is a promise, a potential, made in the hearts of two people who love, which takes a lifetime to fulfill. 

Elizabeth, I love you and on this day I wed you.

Not just for who you are

But for who I am when I’m with you

I love you not for what you’ve done with your life

But for what you’re doing with mine.

I love you for making me good, happy and whole.

Because- this is what you do.

Without a word.

Without a gesture.

Without a doubt.

Just by being yourself.

Such a simple thing

But no one else in the world can do it

Only you…forever."

Not bad promises for someone who is willing to stay....right up until the end....and eat year old frozen cake with me until we are old....

Galoshes, sagging nether regions and dealing with the other woman

So Holy Mac and Cheese on this weather! Gotta love living in Texas...where else can you get up one day to drive in gridlock in the sweltering heat of an A/C that's about to go out, and choose to bask in the wind that streams through your sun roof and windows as a you lazily drive through Memorial Park.....and then get up the next to water ankle high, no Mary Poppins umbrella in sight so you are left to battle the now bone chilling cold gush of flooding water sans boots...only to show up at work looking like a wet puppy (and hoping in a few hours that Degree super pit juice doesn't leave you high and dry smelling like one), and realizing you are the only person stupid enough to have blow dried their hair this morning....

No complaints here....I took it as an excuse to slowly take my time getting the kids off to school and to work....I just didn't realized I would be doing it with flat soggy hair and sweaty smelly pits...but its Tuesday and I am not going to let this get me down.....

We are making progress with Max and the whole speech/autistic/my kid is developmentally slow bit....been Albuterol free, so the aggression has subsidized, and he's doing better with the whole speech thing....Rome wasn't built in a day, and the appointment with ECI isn't until April 2nd, so that leaves us in a holding pattern.  I could go back and forth and back and forth, hoping, praying that I could figure out what I did wrong, what it was that I could have done or didn't do....and all I know is he says Charlotte clearly and can ask the produce man for strawberries...so that's progress for one day. and I will take that any day.

In the span of a week I guess I expected a miracle...and those don't happen unless you have faith....and that is something I have been unable to find even just little of lately....and so it is I ended Tuesday with a stressful pacing and tossing turning....which was only broken for a reprieve when my little spit ball of windswept curls we call Madd Maxx decided to be all cool and take a swing at his dad....right in the nuts...

For anyone who fails to see the humor in that...well I guess it's one of those "you-had-to-be-there-moments"...almost 40 year old man, screeching and moaning in a high pitched octave while rolling around in agony on the bed while as horrifying as it is, my son and I high fived and laughed and laughed and laughed.....I mean it's probably the best entertainment i had all week...besides my daughter letting one rip in Target and blaming it on some old lady with a Prada bag behind us....and it came at the expense of my husband...and what a trooper he is....


So I woke up this morning a little more grounded, a little more calm and definitely with better looking hair because this was his morning off and he afforded me that extra hour of sleep and 45 minutes to finish getting ready in peace....even complete with kids pancakes and lunches...

and so it was I managed ot have just enough time to secretly grab that soy latte and head to work.....where the day started out slow and simply picked up speed.....starting with this insane email....

Let's back up a bit because we all know while this was originally intended to be some sounding board as to the writings I so religiously pursuing, it segued into some sort of online diary...what's the term? memoir? biographical?

Whatever the hell it was, I know I probably share waaaaay more than you all care to partake in...some has been odd, simplistic, asinine....hell, I think one we can say was actual sustenance....and it was fleeting and gone, but a wonderful attempt all the same.... so while I 'put it out there', I also hold back my inner inner thoughts, reserve some privacy for certain aspects of my life that are too depressing or complicated to get into gory details, but that are plaguing just the same...and this is one of the few times i will break that informal vow of silence to venture into an area of my life and my husbands I keep private.


And if you think for some reason or are secretly gloating that I am about to reveal we are swingers or I was really born a man...well I hate to disappoint, but we probably have less sex than my cat. With my couch. And he's neutered. And I could only wish that was the excuse for the hair I have to wax off my lip and chin on a routine basis.


No, my husband like so many people nowadays comes with baggage, just like I do....And when I say this I am not referring to children....I am referring to the emotional, physical and pain in my fucking ass baggage that comes in the form of complicated animosity and meddling ex's and inability to function like mature adults when dealing with people who know exactly what buttons to push and when.....I tried to always maintain a neutral front...to reserve judgment even when pushed at or to the brink of combustion....the kind where you literally are chewing you tongue to pieces in order to forgo an argument or fight....

Well, after five years of being laughed at, downed for my age, my appearance, my demeanor, the fact that my husband was an active father to "my" children instead of theirs....well I could go on and on about all the hearsay and all the insults and all the childish petty shit discussed with his children, and the  warped and propaganda filled version of history and truth they received...

I stayed pretty goddamn neutral until the day his ex, the mother and i use the term loosely because I think motherhood is a badge of honor, something you work for, earn, prove yourself daily for...people who use their children to extort money, fear, rage, to hurt and damage other people and the children....well they might not be in the 7th Hell reserved for Hitler, Stalin, Amin, and Kony, pedophiles and child killers...but they're a few steps away...

I stayed neutral until the day she attempted to extort and damage our family...to the tune of $10, 000 and that's when I put my foot down....through a series of articulate, non-cursing, and indifferent words I put her in her place...I told her exactly what I thought, how I felt....Hell, I managed to rattle her cage enough that she dragged her children in it, his and not his...and before you knew it I was watching naive 20 year old warning me "to check myself before I wreck myself"....

As if quotations from albeit funny, but crass humor movies were of sustenance enough to engage in a battle of wits....and so it was the relationship that I made every effort to keep up if even a farce and for the benefit of my husband was stripped of all pretension and seen for what it truly was....a mutual loathing of the roles we had assumed and the balance of power swaying with the evolution of said roles..

Quite frankly, she couldn't handle that I was his wife. And she wasn't.  So that was in December, and you fast forward to today, and here I am receiving an email from that immature 20 year old daughter rehashing drama....drama I find laughable, and that honestly I hadn't thought about in weeks with the bullshit I have on my plate at this moment.

Was this something that had "really been bothering" her for weeks? Was this a machination on her mother's part because she had left us alone for 3 months? Was it because it coincided with our upcoming wedding anniversary and that's when all this shit started to explode?

Who the fuck knows....what I do know with my own trials and tribulations from co-parenting with inadequate parents, and battling my own evil ex, I barely have enough time to battle his...and it made me start wondering about the whole picking the right mate topic...

I mean do we ever really grasp the seriousness, the importance of who we mate with, who we decide to procreate with? They say hind sight is 20/20, and a good 90% of us wouldn't change it because our kids are our lives, our very reason for getting out of bed, and we wouldn't ever trade that for anything...but there is that nagging part of us, the ones who make every effort to facilitate a working relationship for the sake of the children...its hard...its bagging your head against the brick wall, its humiliating Linda Blair moments when your stoic facade begins to crack under the pressure of being the only one who cares, only one who is at least trying to be the adult and you let your ass hang out...

And fortunately for her...and for me, I have matured just enough these past few months, weeks to not let my wall come down...and I had my big girl plus size granny panties on, and my ass was covered...for once...

So the rest of the day seemed to follow suit, endless situations presenting themselves where I had to decide between losing it and my grip or sucking it up and gritting my teeth...and I made it...all the way to 6:46 pm when I finally had enough of hunting and pecking away to realize I couldn't anymore....plus  with the husband's attempt at dinner leaving me nervous because it didn't involve a grill, I rushed home to engage in some much needed family time....sans nut punching, although that would have left me with shits and giggles again...

And so I sit here wondering where I am going with this...and I realize that's not the point I am trying to make....heck, I don't even know the point. All I know is I am love my life, the people in it, and the possibilities I see everyday that comes with my growth, with my reflections, with my far fetched ideas about organic vegetables, spirituality, better parenting...hell, I still hold out hope that some lavender mint sugar and gluten free cookies will be the bomb!

So I leave you with a few thoughts for the evening, to permeate your dreams, to wake you with mental stimulation...

One-check out this awesome co-op here in Houston area....I have landed back on the wagon, and am vowing to make my and my kids life healthier and it starts with the veggies...so I found this wonderful source, Rawfully Organce at rawfullyorganic.com which will cut our grocery bill in half...because if you have a family like mine, your constantly throwing away rotten food for picky eaters....this allows me the ability to surprise my kiddos and chub hub with assorted goodies at the fraction of the price (sounds like an advertisement, but just a cool suggestion)

Two-one of the awesome dudes from my original writer crew writes/creates/produces this bad ass blog....I have it under a link on my page, but I truly think you should follow it...at least give it a gander because he's that friggin gifted...

3-I heard the most heartless and yet hilarious thing the other day....a co-worker's partner rolled down his window and told a homeless man (channeling Obama 08) " No change until YOU change"....and I had the brilliant idea for a bumper sticker...

Fourthly (is that a word even? idk and don't care)-well....it's Lemonade Day time again, and the Shark has set her dreams and hopes high high high....this year she wants to be able to raise $500 for Star of Hope and another $500 for US Vets to help out homeless vets and support programs....I will have a link here soon for her own FB page because lets face it...people's pets have FB pages and they seem to get tons of hits...either way spread the word, send support and suggestions for marketing ideas and such....and if you're in the area on May 6th, stop on by...

For now I am going to lay back and finish up some program known as Monsterman the ball and chain found, cozy up next to my ball beater, and wonder what tomorrow holds for me.....besides one more day to the Hunger Games!! YAY!!!

ok...spastic bed jumping done... sweet dreams....

Seeking desperately for cover from life...and the fecal matter that results..

So it has been quite a long while in between posts and for that I apologize...God knows even I was wondering what the hell would come spewing from me next...I think it's a something of a writer's block...but quite a lot has occurred between posts.....and I am not as quick or young as I used to be to process it...and come back with a snappy response...

Let me start out by saying I think...no, I know I like just about everything about myself...God knows there is room for improvement always, but I took a cue from a really dear friend and embarked on a journey...and not the tree hugger vegan Earth mama journey or the cram myself into PTA shoes journey or the worn out role of recovered addict journey....it was just a journey with me and a mirror so to speak...

And there I found a girl looking back at me who isn't quite as bad as I make myself out to be all these years....as a result of said journey and Snow White evil queen moment, I was able to conquer a few things this week....

First up is I don't just wake up int he morning to come to work and survive...I actually realize I like my drone type position and everything it gives me in the sense of pride and self fulfillment...and unless you are the most laziest mofo on the planet, you know the feeling I am talking about...never mind you loathe your boss or secretly stick push pins in a doll you keep in the left drawer that just happens to have a cut out of his face from the office Christmas party picture missing from the office board above the fax machine.....never mind that you get paid peanuts...and really cannot even afford peanuts, and the elephants at the Big Top who eat them make bucket loads more than you do....never mind you never get the recognition you deserve....Isn't that everyone?  Nothing new or fantastically groundbreaking about this story...just a chick trying her damnedest to understand, to gain some sense in the chaos that is her life...and a big chunk of that is taking pride in what I do...loving what I do...if even for one day...Hell, I would take pride if I worked at McDonald's...I would make the most bad ass burgers you have ever tasted!!!


Furthermore...I  love the type of mother I have become...I love the fact that I would have been the least likely candidate to EVER be a motherly type and kids were the farthest thing on my mind when I escaped high school.    But now...I realize I am a good mother...the type who doesn't have to say it aloud,  but does here because I can accept the fact I am not perfect, I have room for improvement, and being good isn't just what I want to be. I want to be great, I want to be like my mother, and it is through this journey I realize I don't have to be....I am me, and that's all I can be.  It's the tattooed, loudly cursing, frantic cupcake and meatloaf baking, Science project painting, Math crunching and loud boisterous puppy piles on Sundays complete with french toast...with a little sprinkle of humility, fears, and doubts...and yet it works for me.... I have found my parenting style and am perfecting it, fine tuning it, but I love the person I am for my children, the motivation they instill in me to do more, and the fact that their little drooly giggling faces are all I need. Screw what the rest of the world thinks.



3rdly-I had lunch with a dear friend I have made every damned attempt to push away, and in that moment I dumped 6 months worth of shit built up and stewing, and while I had made every vow to hold it in, to be stoic, to not give this person the satisfaction to hear me at my lowest simply because news travels like wildfire and I didn't need the very people who as friends had chosen to abandon me to hear my problems....and laugh....

What does it say about me that I assume the whole world is laughing at me? I mean really....And so it was I bawled in the middle of Lola's about my disheartening failure at motherhood due to Max's diagnosis...or lack thereof with people and experts weighing in on whether he's deaf, mute, dumb, autistic or just slow....All of which makes my heart heavy and which prompts me to lash out in rage at those around me...defensive and wounded....

I bawled my eyes out because my husband and I struggle every day to survive, to make the pieces work...to find a way to give the kids a better life than what they are living, and sadly...all we do is spin our spokes, our wheels in a continuous circle....and we cannot do anything to escape it....our jobs, our lives..

I bawled because my little girl is almost not a little girl anymore....because she is slipping through my fingers, and there is nothing i can do to stop it....because I want time to stand still, and make it stay, if even for a moment, so I can enjoy, experience the time we have now....to hold her as a child before she becomes a woman....hormonal and spiteful, that innocence I cherish is disappearing...

I bawled because I have spent months being exiled and ignored by the very people who are supposed to be my friends...and when they finally reach out to me I play right into their hands...because i stood up for what I believe in because I stood by what I feel.....now I am alone. And the even sadder part. I don't have enough in me to care anymore.


I bawled because I have lost motivation to even put word to paper here, and keep you updated with insightful and witty smart ass musings.....because this ovary is too tired to even ramble anymore...

Instead I sat there admitting to all my inadequacies and failings..to the stagnation of my life...and at that moment I realized I hated myself for contradicting exactly what I swore I would make every effort not to do.

And that's to fail to see exactly how amazing a person I am.  How is it so hard for me to see the positive instead of the negative? God knows it isn't because I want to....because I enjoy the drama or depression that goes with it....It's just easier to see the negative...especially when it seems to all come at once....know that saying, shit rolls down hill? Well today, everyday recently seems to be a friggin avalanche and I cannot seem to shake the feeling it's never going to get better...

But then days like today, where I wake to my pokes in the eye, lazy breakfasts, and puppy piles on the couch I realize it's not that bad...hell, it's the stuff I love...the stuff that makes me realize why I am still alive...

So, I know this post wasn't exactly what anyone was waiting for...hell, it isn't what I was hoping for either...I had waited 10 whole days and this is all I could muster...but it's a start, and tomorrow is another day and all that snazzy jazz of stuff and so it is that am hoping the rest of the week brings wittier, more hilarious anecdotes....something to pull me out of the doldrums...

And so I leave you with these things that this week made me come out of the pool I was drowning in....A) no matter what happens, no matter what people say, my Max is smart...no amount of tests, no amount of arguing over opinions or kicking out of schools I hemorrahge money to pay will change that....he is my Max and I wouldn't have him any other way. B) the Shark and I had a repreive from the testosterone in our house, and had a little girl time....granted it was only mani/pedi session, but something I miss..and for one minute she was that little cute Charlotte, blond hair, and crooked teeth grin...and all was right in the world.... C) I finally got my bad ass new glasses to see into the future better...to see what the world has to offer....and I forgot how friggin cool I looked in a decent pair of horned rims...


And so I leave you with these few wisdoms....life can be shitty, but it can always be shittier....and all I need is a good raincoat...that potty training a boy is way way way harder than it first sounded in the pages of the What to Expect tome I skimmed online....and that no matter what I am a person of worth...

I just will probably be spending the next few years determining what that worth is....and it starts today..

A weeks worth of holy underwear summed up by an all nighter...and not a good one either...

So it was that Monday I had really really hoped this post would have come in the form of some early morning kick ass start to what would have turned out to be a really kick ass day...I mean I held on to that little thing called faith...waiting and waiting...but then I forgot I lived in reality and on a place called Earth and on that alternate plane shit like that doesn't happen for me...

and so it is that it's almost 7 with dinner barely on the table and I knew I needed to get these thoughts started so I can pick and up and finish them later....because my head is about to implode. And then that Monday night cram session of thoughts turned into dozing off with my 2 year old and a full size Tickle Me Elmo Extreme crammed in my lap....and then Tuesday came with heaving sighs and cries because the pile on my desk is becoming towering and I fear it will fall and crush me...and cries because I had dropped off Max not an hour before and then got a call he had a 101.9 fever and had to go home...only to realize I couldn't because I needed to take off Wednesday and make the trek to Navasota to pour out my saga and checkbook yet again to someone else to try and work out issues when the issues are his.  And nothing a stint in jail minus his pipe and bag of dope can't fix. Or better yet if he would disappear.


And so it was I thought quite literally I was in the midst of a nervous breakdown....and I never get nervous..or breakdown...unless its the lack of will I have had every night when I have broken down to eat a sliver of Max's leftover birthday cake which has now dwindled to half a sheet cake....and still moist as hell...

I digress and this is a long awaited much needed update on the little miniature disasters I face on a daily basis....and the first came in the form of a sick and mucous child who at that moment had a mom who was more angry at him being sick because I had ot leave work then the idea of the sickness itself....so I slapped my ass back in check and prioritized and delegated to my husband who I have to quite honestly say is far better a person than he was than when we were dating because the Marcus/Domi-ho of yester year wouldn't have stepped up and gone home from work so I could stay at mine and volunteer to be Mr. Mom for the day.....I mean he has Michael Keaton beat at the coordination of meals...and who needs coupons when you have a Kroger card...

And so it was that Tuesday rolled into evening and I was left with an ulcer and wondering what it was I was doing with my life yet again....the real estate market is booming and with the rates at 2.75 and falling who can deny now is the time to buy? And here I am with orders and contracts out the friggin wahzoo and all I am doing is drowning....and so it that I have to swallow my pride and deal with the fact that my job has expanded so much that it must now be divided between two people...only I still don't want to relinquish control...I want to hold on to the sinking ship and bellow from the mast that I am the captain....only I don't see the cannons aimed at me and BOOOM!! The whole fucking thing explodes in fiery death and sinks to the bottom of the ocean....

Not a great analogy or metaphor or whatever the fuck...but you get the idea. And so it is I left later than my normal lateness with a sinking feeling in my chest and a acidic churning in my gut, and headed home to prepare for what awaited me Wednesday....65 miles away in the office of someone whose job is to mediate in half a day what has been stewing for over 8 years...

Well, Wednesday came bright and early and with $600 and 6 cups of caffeinated coffee later I am a little more hopeful that maybe there is a light at the end of this tunnel for the Shark..even if I am about to jump out of my skin..and that everything in place will give him the chance, the push, the scared straight stuff of t.v. for him to realize the severity and actually make the life altering decisions he needs to...but then again, I vow to not hold my breath and to learn to take things one day at a time.  You cannot get blood from a turnip...or is it rock? hell, you can't teach an old dog new tricks...or any tricks if they are too goddamn stoned to even hear you...and a leopard cannot change its spots....especially when its a wolf disguised in 2 day old slept in clothing and unshaven scruff of a sheep....

Whatever the case may be I know I try for her...and because I have no other choice but to. It's life and a sad fact my immature ass is being ot realize....

So it was we, and we as in not the invisible mouse in my pocket, but the Maxx and husband who were kind enough to accompany me so I wouldn't wreck or drive off the road in rage...or despair, made the trek back just in time to get the toad off the bus...and for me to hit up work for one last round...what a glutton for punishment I am...so much so that I stayed late yet again....

And woke bright and early and with a new resolve to start today out better than the rest...the whole pesky punctuality thing of having to keep up with blogging has become more of a blogging of convenience or when I have something worth writing about...and even then it's becoming more difficult not to sound like a broken record...I mean who doesn't bitch about their job, their ex, their life? It gets old and today I was beginning to realize I too was as tired as the rest of the world was of that damn Top 40 tune that keeps resonating in my ears...

So I changed the damn station today, and rocked my way into a better attitude...which left me thinking about all the things in my life, my inability to delegate, and to let go...and my need ot hang on....
It applies to the past, to the present, to the dying flowers in the vase that have dwindled down to 4 pathetic and dusky roses drooping and staring at me sadly....and to the holier than holier undies that the elastic is shot in my bottom dresser drawer...

I never finished my 21 for you Danielle and for that I am eternally sorry...I got sidetracked with mediation's, crying over impending job loss that never came, a son who now needs extensive speech therapy...after they rule out autism...a husband who I push to the brink of leaving with my antics, my weeping and my general messy life that I thought I left in the past and that is constantly chasing me...as I hide in dark corners and alley ways....and who I never give enough credit for how much he means to me...and he does...lost in dysfunctional dialogues with a girl on the brink of a long long long long road to womanhood....and I emphasize long because I will postpone it as long as I can...I probably need the exercise anyway....my ass is beginning to have problems fitting into said holey underwear nowadays.


I never finished by 21 because I don't know quite what the rest are...they are unwritten because they don't exist yet....I could have easily come up with 21 things I hate...but this is about trying to like myself, the realize what I have to offer and its beginning ot make me think harder than ever...enough to where my head hurts, and the crease in my forehead will make me a prime candidate for Botox soon.... I have come to the realisation that the rest of that list is something reflective of how I am choosing to live my life now...it's a hard fucking walk through the desert alone with no compass, no water. And no foreign guide complete with camel pack mule to carry you through comfortably...and no fabulous outfits like Carrie for some cool SITC 2 montage....

So, what I am trying to say and failing because its late, or feels later because my day started at 7 am with a toddler taking a nose dive into the gravel of the parking lot because he likes looking like I took a meat cleaver to his face and because I am exerting the will power to NOT have another sliver of the shrinking cake.....what I am trying to say is...is that I am searching for what those last few are...and given the week I had I managed to stumble upon a few along the way...


13. I like the mother I am and will be....no one is perfect and I have to stop trying ot be...the few moments i do and let my own "style" take over...I realize why they cry for me when sad, reach for me when suffering, jump for me with joy...and let me tell you June Cleavers something..Sharon Osbourne still had higher ratings as t.v.'s most loved mom...remember that...we freaks make really good mommas too...if not better...

14. I respect my resolve to overcome adversity and the biggest adversary being myself...I try everyday without fail to evolve, to grow, to shed the skin I am in, and become something better...think Heimlich in Bug's Life....I might end up just as fat, and just as strange..but my beautiful wings will appear soon enough....

15. I love that others see things in me that are great...whether its work related, school related...those pesky little kids and husband who lie and tell me my dinner is good even when they have the shits...I love that despite everything else the good stuff still manages to shine through...and that I surround myself with people who truly care about me...even when I work so hard to push them away...

16. I like my ability to see even after the words have left my mouth and my pen the pain and damage they cause, and know I should right them...it's a sign I have a conscience...and that I care...and that I have that capacity to love even if not loved back...and also a sign I let my emotions run with me...and 9 out 10 times I want to take it back..because I never really meant it to begin with....I just wish I could make more people realize this....


I am a work in progress...who isn't? and all I can do is keep trucking along..scratch that...fuck trucking along...I am going to skip and jump and land face first in the gravel parking lot too...but I'm gonna pull a Max and wipe the blood form my nose, yell Ka-Chow! and chase life down...like he attempted to with the cat...bumps and bruises be damned...

All this pontificating is making my head ache and making me realize I just need to live this life to the best I can...and love it for all it has to offer...warts and all...holey underwear and all...skinned shins and all..

And sometimes, those dusky roses are the silver lining...






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