Slammed by Some Very Bitter Spam!

I always get excited when I see I have comments to my posts. It makes my day a little brighter because I know that someone has taken the time to read what I have written, identify with it, and give me enough time to say something. It kinda rocks! And really, truly, makes my day.

So, imagine my surprise when I opened up my comments and found THIS drivel....

http://soberchronicfabulous.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmassy-feeling.html#comment-form

I won't re-post it - it's a solicitation and I refuse to subject anyone else to that nonsense. Examine the link if you want. I thought it kinda funny and kinda sad at the same time.

I know people - several people in fact - who put so much time and energy into being miserable that there is no room for AN-Y-THING else in their lives. It matters not what the topic of conversation might be, there is always something bad, or wrong, or evil or stupid about it. There's always a reason to avoid it because it's going to F things up.'

And I feel sorry for those people. They have seriously lost the ability to be joyful about anything anymore. No one should have to live like that. And the fact that they seem to choose to - in fact revel in - walking around under a black cloud all the time just, well, it just astounds me.

And then there's this guy with his rant against us spoiled, cheating, mentally unstable, irresponsible blah blah blah de effing blah American women. As an American woman, I take offense to this. And truly do feel sorry for him because what kind of Hell on Heels must have done a number on him??!

So I'm inclined to leave his comment on my page, even though it is spam, and just pray for him.

Do you hear me Mr. Anonymous aka John Rambo?? I'm saying a frickin' prayer for you and hope that you find your dream girl. I'm thinking us American whoers wouldn't want you either!

Christmassy Feeling.....

These last two Chrsitmases have been exceptionally hard. The Former Supposed Spouse missed last year and will miss this year as well. Lately I have been feeling more keenly aware of his absence than ever. I'm not sure if that's just because it's coming on Christmas, or because .... I just miss him. Or maybe a combination of the two. At any rate, instead of feeling all excited and expectant and happy, I'm feeling all melancholy and I really hate that.

I did manage to get something accomplished today......

Crumkake - A Norwegian Christmas Treat

For those of you who don't know, these are one of the pain-in-the-ass Norwegian goodies that I make every year. Why do I make them if they are such a pain-in-the-ass? Well, one, because they are really Really GOOD and b) people pay me to because they are such a pain-in-the-ass. And they are really Really GOOD! And even if they are a hassle to make, they were one of the first things my grandmother taught me to make along with lefse, fattigmand, rosettes and sandbakkles. (All gigantic pains-in-the-ass to make.)

It's Tradition. And tradition is important.

Super Complicated & Spectacular

I read the best quote this morning on Facebook:

"Women are super complicated and spectacular.....like a Rubik's cube loaded with C-4: One wrong twist, and your head gets blown off!"  

And, by the way, if you would like to laugh more (at yourself, other people, life in general) this chick is one funny bitch!   https://www.facebook.com/pages/Functional-Insanity/201244936603518

Spectacular - I like that. "marked by or given to an impressive, large-scale display; dramatically daring or thrilling." Note, it doesn't say anything about a pleasant display - only that it's big and dramatic. I can do that. I like to throw things. Or slam doors. Or cupboards. Until I can elicit some kind of response and THEN let loose with all the minor annoyances that now have built up into a Great Big Shit Storm.

And complicated - "composed of elaborately interconnected parts; complex. Difficult to analyze, understand or explain."

Yeah, sometimes I don't even get me. A thing that bothered me yesterday, may not be a big deal today. And, the thing that was no big deal 5 minutes ago might now be the next Great Big Shit Storm.

Honestly, I sometimes Do Not know how the people in my life live with me. And generally I only come to this realization AFTER the GBSS has come and gone. I have a moment to reflect and think to myself, "Wow. That was a bitchy thing to say. Perhaps I should apologize for that."

And I'm really quite distracted today. I'm sitting here on the sofa with the lap-top looking out the window. It's snowing - the kind of snow that just floats down from the sky and let's you catch flakes on your tongue. The wind isn't howling for a change and it's not a lot of snow......but it's very pretty. It's ALMOST putting me in the mood to do something Christmasy.

Almost.

MOVE......that body!

So, one of my favorite songs lately happens to be Nelly's "Move That Body."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZ_gP_hFOss&ob=av2e

It's on my MP3 playlist that I listen to when I take my walk every morning. I'm sure the people in the neighborhood have decided that I'm off my rocker because I just CAN-NOT not sing along. With the headphones in. Full blast. So I can't hear myself. I can just hear them.....here comes that nut in the Steelers sweatshirt who sings out loud.....quite a sight I'm sure!

I have long resisted the idea that exercising was going to do me any good. In the past, attempts at it only caused me more pain. But, since the last time I was at the good Doctor's office, the number on the scale had climbed yet again, I decided it was time to do something. 

So, instead of going back to bed in the morning when the dudes go to school, I go for a walk. It's not much, but it's a start. And even though I was a little stiff and sore the first couple of days, now, I really do feel a little better. I sleep better at night - probably mostly because I'm not sleeping all day. Go figure! It's amazing what you can accomplish when you are awake and alive with the rest of the world!

So, now, all I want for Christmas? Zumba for Wii. And a gym membership. (7 degrees is just a little chillier than I like to be outside in!) And a Jared Allen jersey.

Change is good......really....really?

Top of the list.....apologies for the prolonged absence. Chronic pain sucks and being treated with narcotic medication has a tendency to turn one into something of a zombie - everything seems to move in slow motion and when there's never enough time for everything anyway, only the bare essentials get done. Mostly. And sometimes not even those.

So, me and Doc are working on doing something different. And let me tell you friends and neighbors, detoxing off hydrocodone is a real treat! PMS was bad, but this? That was a special kind of HELL! Chills, shakes, sweaty, nauseated, crying one minute, and just a little edgy the next. Okay, so I was a MONSTER bitch for about a week. My apologies to those who had to live with me. I'm sure I owe several of you many apologies for a long time to come.

But, I cannot tell you how much better I feel now. I still hurt, to be sure, but my outlook and attitude has vastly improved. I'm sleeping better - for the most part - I have some ambition for the first time in I can't remember when, I actually feel like getting out of bed and - maybe even - wait for it - LEAVING THE HOUSE!

It's funny. When you have a chronic illness - mine is Fibromyalgia with a healthy side of chronic fatigue syndrome - everybody and their brother has advice on what you need to do to feel better. Eat better. Exercise. Sleep more. Sleep less. Drink this once a day. Get your Green Card and smoke a big fattie every day. Stop smoking. And the list goes on and on ad infinitum.

Somewhere in all of this there has to be a magic combination that will work for me. Wish me luck. I'm off for my walk.

H is also for Hiatus...

Just a short one.....It's been a rough few days pain wise, but it's slowly getting better. As a result, I have fallen behind on my posting. Another day though, and I should be back at it.

Cheers-
Lana D.

My Apologies for The Eye Strain!!

Sorry everyone for any eye strain I may have inflicted upon ya'll!! I copied and pasted from word so I could have the fancy font and forgot to change the text color before I scheduled the post! For some reason, blogger doesn't default that particular font to the correct color. But, I fixed it! So, if you would like to read it again CLICK HERE!

G is for GRATITUDE

Gratitude: The state of being appreciative of benefits received; affording pleasure or comfort.

In the face of all of the things that cause me grief or pain or stress or anger, it is very often difficult to remember how many good things I have in my life to be grateful for. I am truly blessed. And things could be so much worse.

I have parents who love and support me. I have friends with broad, strong shoulders to let me cry on when I need to. I have two beautiful, healthy, happy children who drive me crazy sometimes, but more often, make me laugh until I cry. I have known what it means to be loved and to be in love with someone else. I have a home that’s not underwater or in danger of being washed out to sea.

I may have an illness but it is only chronic. Not progressive. Not terminal.

And, as of yesterday, I once again have a refrigerator that actually refrigerates things!

F is for Faith, Forgiveness, and Fear

Faith:  A firm belief in something for which there is no proof; belief, trust in and loyalty to God.

Forgiveness:  Being willing or able to allow error or weakness.

Fear:  To be afraid of; to expect with alarm.

Faith:

First and foremost, I have faith in a power greater than myself. I choose to call that power God, and I have accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior. There are days, especially recently, when my Faith is the only thing that has carried me through.

“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11.

So, even though I am walking through something of a nightmare right now, I know – I KNOW – I am not walking through it alone.

Forgiveness:

I also know that I have to find it within me to forgive Jon for the things that he has done and said that have hurt me. And, probably more importantly, forgive myself for the things that I have done and said that have hurt him. And, yes, there are lots of things in that category.

I need to let myself off the hook for the choices he has made. I understand it intellectually that he didn’t drink BECAUSE of me or anything I did. He drank because that’s what alcoholics DO.

“I didn’t cause it, I can’t control it, and I can’t cure it.” From Courage to Change – an Al-Anon daily devotional.

Fear:

Finally, I think most of my actions and reactions and feelings are firmly rooted in fear. I don’t do well with change and when things are changing constantly, it sends me into kind of a tailspin. Before long, I find myself in a very dark and scary place. Even when things are going well, I always seem to have this feeling of “waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

The last time Jon came home, I was constantly on edge, waiting for that day he came home drunk again. Hoping against all evidence to the contrary that it would never come, but knowing in my heart of hearts that it would.

Life is much too short to live in that constant state of high alert.

E is for Ephemeral

Ephemeral: lasting a very short time.

Yes, I know, ephemeral is not strictly an emotion. It is relevant nonetheless.

I have a tendency to get mired down in my negative emotions. When what seems like a thousand different things go wrong all at once it gets a little difficult to see past them. The sadness moves in like a summer storm and swallows me whole. Tears fall like rain, my emotions swirl like a twister and my body feels like it's been beaten up by golf-ball sized hail.

But, just like those summer storms that come out of nowhere, a rainbow almost always follows. The storm moves on, the rain stops, the wind dies down and the sun comes out again.

Even though I am living in the middle of the storm right now, I do know that all of this is temporary. Jon is halfway through his incarceration and - whether I let him come home or not - he will once again be here to help me, even if it's just to take these kids for a while so I can get a break. 

The next court date for "Karla" and her kids is in May - a little over a month from now - and hopefully, her kids will be able to go back with her and the trauma of life with "Etta" will be over. Or, I will be able bodied enough by then that I can take over and they can come and live with me.

And, as ALWAYS, every time I get mired in my own mess, I am reminded that I could have it SO. MUCH. WORSE. I could be homeless. I could be terminally ill instead of chronically ill. I could live in Japan.

As I said in a previous post......IT'S ALL TEMPORARY!

Nothing lasts forever, not even the crap!

D is For Delusional

Delusional. The abnormal state marked by a persistent, false, psychotic belief regarding the self or persons or objects outside the self that is maintained despite indisputable evidence to the contrary. 


I think maybe we are all guilty of deluding ourselves at some point in our lives. I know I am. I know my Former Supposed Spouse is. We tell ourselves lots of things - not necessarily totally false things - in order to get through the day.


I have always believed after each incarceration and treatment program that Jon would "get it" this time. That "click" would happen and he would be able to maintain his sobriety for longer than a few months. He asked me to marry him about 6 years ago, the first time he was locked up. I had told him that if he could give me 6 months sober on the outside where he wasn't monitored and supervised 24/7 that I would.


We're still not legally married. The longest he managed to stay sober was about 4 months. 


We have a child together and have lived in the same house and have presented ourselves as husband and wife so I would say that the State of Montana considers our relationship a "Common Law Marriage." But we never signed the papers or took the vows.


There's a big part of me that wants to cling to the delusion that this time will be different. There's a part of me that is desperately afraid to be alone and because of that, I'm tempted, always, to continue buying into the delusion. Even though the "indisputable evidence" tells a different story.


Actions speak a thousand time louder than words.

Meet Me On Monday Blog Hop #41

Okay, peeps. I know you all are so looking forward to tomorrow, it being Monday and all. But maybe I can lighten the load a little with the latest edition of Meet Me On Monday. Okay, probably not, but even just a little smile will help.

My friend Java at Never Growing Old host this blog hop that keeps growing every week. Join in the fun. You might even stat looking forward to Monday!

This week's questions are:

Questions:

1.  If you had to eat only one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?
2.  Do you write your blog posts in advance or the day you post them?
3.  Have you ever ridden in an ambulance?
4.  What is your favorite candle scent?
5.  Coffee or tea?

1.      If you had to eat only one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?

It would have to be meat of some sort – probably beef, having been raised in the heart of Cattle Country.  I don’t think I could pick one TYPE of beef though. If I had to, I guess it would have to be nice thick, beautifully marbled, medium-rare rib steaks. They have always been my favorite and lately, a rare treat.

2.     Do you write your blog posts in advance or the day you post them?

Until this month, I have always written them on the day that I post them. During April, however, I am participating the the A to Z Blogfest hosted by, among others, Arlee Bird @ Tossing It Out. Each day in April, except Sundays, I will be posting a blog on a given letter of the alphabet. 26 letters = 26 posts. Coincidence? I think not! So Because of that, I have been writing those posts ahead of time and scheduling them to automatically post on the appropriate day.

3.    Have you ever ridden in an ambulance?

Thankfully, no. That is not to say that I have never seen the inside of an emergency room either for myself or someone else. I almost got to ride in the Mercy Flight helicopter when my boyfriend at the time had to be air-lifted from the little tiny medical center in Chester to the VA Hospital in Helena. But there wasn’t enough room for me, the flight nurses, and the boyfriend. So, I drove. Probably in record time. That was scary. I thought I was going to lose him. His lung had collapsed and the doctors weren’t sure he would make it to Helena in a regular ambulance. He did survive though, and we had another couple years together before we went our separate ways.

4.    What is your favorite candle scent?

The candle in my bedroom is Clean Cotton, in my living room is Hazelnut Latte and in my kitchen is Warm Apple Pie. I also have a set of reed diffusers in my bathroom that are also Clean Cotton. These are my top three that I buy all the time. I also like Buttercream by Yankee but it was banned in my house by the Former Supposed Spouse. Hmmm. I might have to go get one now that he’s gone! hee hee.

5.     Coffee or Tea?

Coffee, mostly. Especially in the morning! I can’t function without my coffee in the morning! But every now and then I like a cup of tea. My favorite is Good Earth Sweet & Spicy. Not only is it yummy, but on each of the tabs on the tea bags are some little words of wisdom. Celestial Seasonings has them too, printed on various places on their boxes.


Come and join the fun, won't you?!

C is For Confusion, Conflicted and Concerned

Confusion. A state of being disturbed in mind or purpose.


Conflicted. Experiencing or marked by ambivalence or a conflict, especially of emotions.


Concerned. Anxious, worried, interestedly engaged, culpably involved.


Initially, I had planned to only post about a single emotion on a given day this month. C however, required more than one, and I have a sneaking suspicion that some of the others will as well. 


Confusion...
Some days, it seems that confusion can swallow me whole. I have fibromyalgia, and that not only makes my body not work well, but it also messes with my mental function. I forget things. A lot. So I make a lot of lists. And then promptly forget where I have written them down or where I have put them. Which leads to confusion as to what I am supposed to be doing, where I'm supposed to be going and when I'm supposed to be there. 


My former supposed spouse is also an enormous source of confusion. I have no doubt that he loves me and cares for me. How then can he keep making the same choices that take him away from me? From us? How does he process his actions and his choices so that he can let himself believe that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it? I don't understand. (Perhaps I'm not as much an addict as I have led myself to believe!)


Conflicted....
Show me a fence, and I will show you how to walk it. 


One minute I'm so angry at him that I really believe he is lucky to be behind Plexiglas or at the other end of a phone line because I swear to the heavens above if he were right in front of me, I would chock the ever loving shit out of him.


And in the very next breath, I want to believe that this FINALLY is the time he gets it and we will have our happily ever after. He is my heart's desire. I love him. I miss him. I want him to come home.


Concerned...
In the midst of the FSS's extended absence, his ex-wife has come completely unraveled to the point where her kids have been removed from her care and placed in the temporary custody of my Former Supposed Mother-In-Law.


And THAT has been a nightmare in and of itself. She's having a great deal of difficulty with "Colton." He's defiant. He's oppositional. He's just flat out effing PISSED! And who can blame him? His mother is unable to properly care for him, his dad is behind bars again, and he's stuck with his Grandma who won't even let him go outside and play. I'M pissed, and I'm a grown-up (in theory, anyway) and I don't even know how to process all of MY emotions. 


I imagine that for a 7-year-old it all translates into one thing - FEAR. And how does he express that? Anger.


But when he's at MY house? He's a completely different kid. He laughs. He's funny. He does what I ask - sometimes more than I ask. He does his homework. He takes his shower. He eats his dinner. He goes to bed. WITHOUT the big ass melt down.


My heart breaks for him. I love him like he is my own and my heart is just breaking for him.


Oh who am I kidding. My heart is broken for all of us.

B is For Betrayal

Betrayal. To fail or desert especially in time of need.


Yes, he has betrayed me. By his own actions, he has deserted me. He keeps telling me it wasn't his choice, that he doesn't WANT to be where he is at. It was the cops, his probation officer, the judge, his mother. Yes, even his mother because if he hadn't had to go over to her house and take care of her, then he wouldn't have been driving.


But that's not really true. He was headed to her house the night he was arrested. However, he CHOSE to stop at the bar first. He CHOSE to start drinking again long before that night. He CHOSE to drive even though he wasn't allowed to do so without the ignition interlock device required by the court.


And we all need him in some form. His ex-wife and his mother are both disabled and need his help physically. I am in limbo while Social Security tries to decide whether or not I am disabled enough to receive benefits. He was my sole source of income.


He made CHOICES that got him where he is at today. They are an endless list of broken promises. 


I made my OWN choices that got me here, as well. I CHOSE to let him come home again and again. I CHOSE to believe the empty promises. I CHOSE to turn myself upside down and inside out in an effort to "save" him. But he didn't want to be saved - didn't think he needed to be saved. And even if he did, I CANNOT do it for him.


I think maybe we've betrayed each other. And I'm not sure if that can be fixed. I'm not sure I want to fix it if it can.

A Is For Aftermath

Aftermath. The period following a usually ruinous event.


This is where I have taken up residence. In the abyss of the abrupt departure of my alcoholic former supposed spouse. Adrift in an ocean of tears with no shoreline in sight. Enwreathed in a shroud of anguish so thick and dark that even the horizons have disappeared. It is arduous even to breathe.


This latest catastrophe is nothing new. Of the seven years we've been together he has spent nearly half that in some form of incarceration - county jail, treatment centers, pre-release centers and now, finally, State Prison. The times we've spent apart and those we've spent together have become so jumbled that for every event, I have to stop and think - was he home when that happened? Or did I have to handle that one myself?


I keep telling myself that this is the last time I live here - in the aftermath. This time, I'm not simply killing time until he comes home again. This time, I'm breaking the cycle. This time, I'm moving on.

A to Z Blogging Challenge

So, tomorrow begins the A to Z Blogging Challenge. Since this has been year of emotional upheavals, downturns and loop-the-loops, I have decided to blog an emotion - or twelve - for each letter of the alphabet.


I expect this to be a very personal journey. I sometimes have great difficulty dealing with my emotions. I don't always acknowledge all that I feel. My hope is that by challenging myself to write about them daily, I will be able to feel my way through it, so to speak. 


We can't fix what we don't acknowledge. I know, I know, that was WAY too Dr. Phil of me. (This is one thing he is right about, though.) I have a tendency to make things someone else's fault. Usually, my Former Supposed Spouse gets the brunt of it. But it "takes two to tango" as they say, and so this Challenge is me taking responsibility for my part in things and cleaning up my side of the street.

I will also be hopping on to do all the regular stuff too - Meet Me On Monday, Captcha Balderdash, etc.

Meet Me On Monday Blog Hop #40

Meet Me On Monday is hosted each week by Java at Never Growing Old. Check her out when you have a minute! This week's questions are:


Questions:

1.  Crunchy or soft tacos?


I like soft tacos, but I like soft corns shells. I like them best when I make them at home. I buy raw corn shells and fry them in the hot oil just long enough to get them nice a hot, a little crispy around the edges and nice and chewy in the center. Mmmmm. Now I'm gonna have to make some!

2.  Do you scrapbook?


I do not. I have no patience for futzy stuff like that and I am no where NEAR organized enough to keep all of it together where I could get anything done. My mother on the other hand, is TOTALLY addicted to scrap booking, stamping - she actually belongs to a Stampin' Up group that meets the first Monday of every month.

3.  Do you take any daily medications?


Don't even get me started on medications. My head board in my bedroom looks like a small pharmacy. I have been trying, mostly in vain, to find a medication that works for me without causing debilitating side effects. Some have helped my pain only to make me so tired and out of it, that I cannot function. Others wire me to a point where sleep is impossible and THAT makes me tired so I cannot function. Others till have reduced me to a pile of sniveling, sniffling, useless tears. A happy medium would be nice. An even emotional keel would be nice. Someday, maybe.

4.  What is your favorite sound?


I love the sound of a thunderstorm in the distance, growing louder and stronger as it gets closer and closer. I love the sound of the first raindrops as they begin to hit the windows and the roof and then gradually grow into a down pour until it starts running out the downspout into the catch bucket. It kind of almost makes me a little sad when the time between the lightening flashes and the rolls of thunder begins to get longer and longer until the storm has completely passed. But, then I am left with the smell of the freshly cleaned air and it's okay.



5.  Where were you born?


I was born in the same town I live in. A little town in northern Montana - only about 40 miles from the Canadian border. Kind of in the middle of nowhere. There are probably more cows around than people and lots and lots and lots of acres of wheat farms. I used to dream of getting out, getting away, getting anywhere but here. But, now that I've been a few places, I've decided there really is no place like home.


And, if you would like to check out some of the totally awesome, hip, cool, radical peeps who also participate in MMOM, here's the linky!

Certified To Lie Memetastic Award (Yeah, I KNOW right? Another Award!)

The untruths contained in my previous post are added in red at the end of the story. Cheers and Happy Friday!


So, you may recall that a while back I participated in a "Two Truths and a Lie" blog hop. Well, just today, my Ahhsome friend Sandi bestowed upon my the "Certified To Lie Memetastic Award" because I was so very convincing the first time around. Ha.

At any rate, here is the challenge. First, I am required to formulate not one, not two, but three LIES about myself and only one truth and then bestow the same award on 5 additional bloggers.

My choices for the five bloggers are:

The Whispering Writer @ Airing My Dirty Laundry, One Sock At A Time

The Impulsive Addict @ Confessions of An Impulsive Addict

Aunt Becky @ Mommy Wants Vodka

Chana @ Mama Town

The Dreamer @ PBJDreamer

And Why? Because these women totally, completely ROCK! None of us get out of the Mommy Life unscathed or unchanged and these ladies really know how to find the funny in what otherwise might just drive us stark raving mad! Please take some time and check them out!

Okay. So, let the fibbing begin! And, keep in mind that every good lie contains an element of truth!

1. The Jessica McLintock First Day of School Frock

When I was going into the 6th grade, my grandmother was bound and determined to teach me to sew. My grandmother took me to the fabric store to pick out a pattern and then showed me how to read the pattern label to determine how much fabric, what kind of fabric, and all of the notions needed to complete the finished product. At the time (late 70's early 80's - ish), Jessica McLintock was a popular "designer" for very pretty, fancy schmancy, ruffly, frilly dresses. 

Gunne Sax Prairie Dresses. 

Decidedly NOT a beginner's project. But, my grandmother went with it and patiently stood by while I labored on this thing for 2 months in order to have it ready for the first day of school. She even helped me add about 4 inches to the bottom when we found that I had grown about 3 inches over the summer! The dress really was made only my Grandmother ended up finishing it because my 6th Grade Self crapped out after cutting out the pieces and sewing the skirt together. It was truly a thing of beauty. I will see if I can find a picture of it.

2. My First Car Wreck

When I was sixteen, I was given my mom's old car to drive. It was a very large, very long, 1976 Ford LTD Brougham. It was generally parked in the garage. One summer evening, while my mother was out of town, I decided to take said car to go to the local drive-in, get a pop, and go for a cruise (of course, I was going to do this all without my dad being any the wiser!) So, I waited until he left to make a run to the dump, jumped in the car, and proceeded to back out of the garage. Only, the door was not open. So I didn't so much back OUT as I backed THROUGH the garage door. Oh yeah, and my dad wasn't so much GONE as he was just on the other side of the garage. How does a person do that, you might ask? In my defense, the sun was going down and was exactly level with the windows in said door so when I checked my rear view, it LOOKED like the door was open.


And my dad? Well, let's just say angry was an understatement. I think his exact words were "Go away. I don't even want to look at you right now!" This one is actually completely true, sadly enough. What's even funnier is that my mother has also done it once and my DAD has done it TWICE! And the new garage doors didn't have any windows in them.


3. The Great Water Tower Caper


One night, in the dead of winter, me and some of my friends decided it might be fun to scale the fence around one of the water towers in town and make it our own. Let me tell you, the walkway around the outside of one of those things is A LOT HIGHER than it looks from the ground! We did manage to leave our mark - a big DK (Dead Kennedy's) symbol, all our initials and the year we graduated from high school. When we were done, we made our way back down, and made our escape. A couple of days later, the cops came knocking on our door. Seems someone in the house right next door to the tower had spotted us and reported us. And the license plate of the getaway car. And since we all had the teenage brilliance of leaving our REAL INITIALS, we were oh so very easily identified. And we all ended up doing about a gazillion hours of community service for our antics. Yeah. Another shining moment of pride for my dad, who, by the way, was a city cop in my home town for all of my growing up years. This actually happened, I just wasn't a part of it. I don't know where I was, but I wasn't there and so didn't get in any official trouble but I did get lectured about participating in such "unsavory" activities.

4. First Time Caught Drinking


I was a junior in High School and me a two of my friends pitched in to have someone buy us two pints of Everclear. I brought along the only pop we had in the house - Diet Shasta Grapefruit - and we proceeded to swig & chase while another friend drove us around town. We ended up going roller skating - I know, right? Teenage brilliance ("Let's get sloshed and put wheels on our feet and try to remain upright!") at its best! One of my friends got fed up and walked - drunk off her behind - to the bar where her mother was drinking and ratted us other two out. Her mom called Sheila's mom and Sheila's mom called MY mom and we were all in hot water. My dad found the extra bottle of Everclear stashed in my roller skate at the bottom of my closet. Being the cop that he was, he called his cop friends and had me charged with "Minor In Possession." And to this day, neither Sheila nor I talk to the other girl. This also happened, only I was a Freshman in high school and my dad didn't really call his cop buddies to have me charged. Amazingly, and ONLY by the Grace of God, I never "officially" got caught drinking by any law enforcement agency. It's a wonder me and all my friends lived to tell the tales, really. And I did find where my dad had hidden the Everclear (HE DIDN'T EVEN DUMP IT OUT!!) and when one of my friends came home from college the following summer, we took the water bottle off of the water cooler, mixed up a spodie in it and put it back on the cooler. Instant cold drinks, no ice required.

Four, Going On Forty - Some Pearls of Wisdom From Bug Boy

My youngest son's nickname is Bug. We call him Bug because when he was born, summer was just beginning and in Montana, summer means skeeters. Admittedly, there are places much MUCH worse for the pesky little critters than where I live, but we have our share. After spending just a few minutes out in the yard enjoying the warm, late spring evening, any and all patches of exposed skin were dotted with skeeter bites.


And he reacted to them. Badly. Big red welts. One got him on the eyelid and just about swelled his eye shut. And so he was labeled "The Bug Boy" which we have shortened to just "Bug."


That was our very first trip to the emergency room with him. He's been something of a handful from the moment he was conceived. Yes, I said conceived, not born. At one point early in my pregnancy, I was overcome by such tremendous pain that I was convinced he was ectopic. 


No, Dr. assured me, he's just kicking on a nerve somewhere. 


And so began my journey with Bug. He continues to be a handful. But he has moments when he can be so sweet he makes my teeth ache! (And I don't even HAVE real teeth anymore!) Like when he gives me a hug in the morning before he runs out to his bus, puts his little hand on me, pats my back and says "You know? I love you Mommy!" Sometimes he doesn't say anything. He just throws his little arms around me and pats me on the back as if to say, "It's okay, Mommy. It's all going to be okay."


Tonight he shared these little tidbits with me while he was cuddled up on my lap. I love the way his little mind works. I just know he spent a good long while thinking about these things. And I feel so privileged that he chose to share them with me.


"Dora, The Explorer is not in the Bible. She is only on TV. Only Jesus is in the Bible. Jesus is not on TV."


" 'Soil' " is another way to say 'dirt.' Water and sun will make plants grow in the soil."


And this last one is my favorite one. We have had more than our share of sad things happen over the last year. Lots of tears. Lots of frustration. Lots of drama. I worry about how my little guys are coping with the FSS's absence. I worry that I am so not setting a good enough example for them.


He came up with this one "just for you, Mommy." He came and crawled up in my lap, put his arms around me and gave me a big Bug hug. Then he took my face in his little hands, looked me right in the eyes and said......






"When you feel lonely, Mommy, just think happy thoughts."




Bless his little heart.




And pass me the damn Kleenex!

Can Something Maybe Go My Way? Maybe? Something? Anything, Really?!

O! M! F! G!!


What a week it was been. Yes, AGAIN.


My step-children - who were placed in temporary custody of my ex-MIL - ended up staying at my house three nights last week because "Etta" took a tumble in her bathroom and did a face plant on the hardwood floor. She ended up with a 6 inch gash on her forehead, two black eyes, and some very severely bruised ribs. This required a trip to the ER and 17 stitches.


And I have been feeling extremely guilty because she called me when it happened and I didn't answer the phone. On purpose. I remember thinking "God GOD woman! What the hell do you want NOW?" Etta's "emergency" and my "emergency" are generally two vastly different things. Of course, the one day I make that assumption and ignore her, turns out it really WAS a REAL emergency. Ah well. Someone got her to the ER and I went and picked her up and took her home.


"Colton" and "Branda" came to my house for dinner that night and stayed overnight for two more nights, and "Colton" stayed for a third night. Jesus Mary and Joseph I don't know how people with more than two children do it day in and day out. The increase in the noise and the dishes and the laundry and the hot water usage and the grocery bill and the garbage generated....... I very nearly lost my mind.


Which brings up another trial - household appliances that have decided they no longer wish to be employed full time, but would much rather be "sittin' on their ass eatin' bon bons and watchin' Dr. Phil." 


The hot water heater will work for a day or two and then the pilot will go out and the water gradually cools (or gets used up) and not get reheated, requiring someone (ME) to trudge down to the laundry room and manually re-light it. There are few things more aggravating than getting the motivation to actually do the dishes or take a shower (both of which happen sometimes infrequently because of my chronic-ness) only to discover that the water is nowhere near hot enough to accomplish either task.


Another thing hot water is required for? Cleaning out the damn refrigerator that has decided it no longer wishes to circulate cold air through the refrigerator compartment. The freezer section is still working - everything is still frozen quite solid. However, many things had to be disposed of from the fridge because it is no longer cold enough to keep things "safe." I discovered this Saturday. I had to wait until Monday to call a repair person. Who couldn't come until Thursday. So, we have been living out of coolers for a week, buying ice at two different places because no ONE place sells both ice CUBES and ice BLOCKS. And, my kitchen is tiny so no matter where the coolers are, they are in the way. I'm hoping that it is a simple fix and does not require replacement of the entire thing. If that happens, the land lord will probably have an aneurysm because he just bought THIS one four years ago. My BFF had the condenser go out in hers. $600 for a new condenser...........$725 for a brand new fridge WITH an ice maker. Since the freezer is still frozen, I'm thinking hoping it's just the fan.


My Administrative Hearing for my SSDI benefits was in January and I STILL have not heard whether or  not I have been approved. Mind you, this process has been going on since January 2009.


*SIGH* and lots of tears and slamming of doors and cussing and throwing things.


The Universe is conspiring against my Pity Party, however.  Even though things aren't going so great right now, I still have much to be thankful for.


Because "Branda and Colton" are staying with "Etta," I have no problem letting my kids go over and play with them. That makes The Monkey a very happy boy! And The Bug gets to go too, and so that gives me a break. Someone else gets to take a turn listening to them argue about EVERYTHING. A little time to just be and not be bothered. With anything.


The Monkey was selected as Student of The Week at his school. This makes me SO EFFING PROUD of him, I can't even tell you.  I was up well past my bedtime on Monday putting together a "portfolio" of his life. Poster board, construction paper, glue stick, the works. We used up all my picture paper and a most of an ink cartridge, but we knocked that booklet out of the park. Most families I think could probably fit their family pictures on a single page. Not us! We have FOUR pages. (Blended families are fun!) Some of mine, some of his, some of ours and a set of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins for each! I feel so blessed that so many people love and care for my son. We are our OWN village!


Even though I have a couple of appliances that are shitting the bed, at least I have a roof over my head. A mostly comfortable bed to sleep in. A roommate to help with the bills (and carry my trash out to the dumpster and pack the laundry baskets up and down the stairs).


And, perhaps most importantly, I so thankful that I have a sense of humor about it all because at a certain point, it all becomes so FUCKING RIDICULOUS that ALL you can do is laugh. Because if you don't, you might find yourself holding up the C-Store with a softened stick of butter in your coat pocket saying "Gimme all your ice or the popcorn gets it!"