You man. Me woman. Rawr...

I love when my man gets all manly.Not the "I'm an ass" kinda manly, but the I have muscles, move heavy stuff, help the little lady manly.

A while back, he had to clean out the garage but he wanted to put a board in the rafters so he could put more stuff up there. So we go to the store, buy a big board, and come back home to get started. What does he do when we get there? Starts measuring and checking the area out. Then he goes out to the back, whips out his electric saw thingamajig, and starts cutting the board down. Hawt.

And the groceries? He always gives me 1 light bag to carry while he carries the other 50. I haven't reminded him yet that I have been a single mom for almost 6 years now and can easily carry 10 bags in one trip. Shhhh...

Oooh, and the lawn mowing. I hate mowing the lawn (although I have never actually done it-that's what boys are for. Sheesh!). He offered to do ours, and was mowing his when I got there. Very nice. Yu-mmy.

I know I am supposed to be independant woman and all that crap but really, there is something about a man just being a man...and no I don't plan on sitting home barefoot and pregnant anytime soon.

But he can still cook for me and make pretty baskets. I am definitely getting the best of both worlds here. I am just lucky like that.

And atleast I am not the only wierd one in this relationship...he is strangely turned on by me saying "sneaky little wench". I just don't get it.

The assignment-a happy memory

I regularly read debutant.com and today (or atleast when I looked at it) the assignment was to write about a good memory you have. And since I did so much bitching yesterday, I think that I could use a reminder of why my life is so great.




My family and I have always been very close. And by family, I mean 3 aunts, 3 uncles, a divorced grandma and grandpa (but both are still at every family function with no issues at all. I don't even remember them married but I always remember them together with us at holidays), my mom, my sister with massive scatterings of cousins and second cousins. We actually liked each other. One of the things we did most often was bake. For pretty much every holiday, we made cookies and candy. Yum, candy.

We also did craft projects. My favorite one ever had to be one of our easter projects. I was probably about 11 years old. We made easter bonnets-the massive dominate your head kind. We spray painted them a light pink, then hot glued little flowers all around the brim of the hat. Then we took a strand of small pearl lookin' beads and weaved them in through the flowers. When we were finished, we all went outside on the porch and took a picture of us in our new easter dresses and big bonnets.

I was jealous because the look alike auntie's hat looked better. I kept that hat for about 8 years. By then, the paint was chipping, half the flowers had come off, the beads were drooping, and it didn't resemble much of a cirle anymore. But everytime I looked at it, I remembered how much fun I had hanging out with my grandma and my aunts. And how much fun I still have with them.

Catty Chicks

So, I have this friend. We have a very longtime history of being the cattiest bitches around. Clearly, adulthood has not changed that.

Two months ago, I finally got fed up with being looked down upon by her husband. Multiple reasons have led me to believe this was true stemming back almost as far as my friendship with her. I have known her husband about two years less than I have known her. We had many conversations back in high school about his opinions of me and my situation. My mother was a single parent, we had no father figure around and we didn't go to church. All of these things were cardinal sins to him with his married for 20 some years parents, attend private Christian school upbringing. We discussed how he felt it was just not okay for a single parent to exist. There should always be two parents and woman should never choose a man and get pregnant with their child if they weren't married and didn't plan on staying that way. As much as I explained to him that while his concept was great, that simply was not reality. I can't imagine what would have happened or what would have become of me had my mother married my father. I don't know him but what I know OF him is the farthest thing I want to be. And my sister's father? Let's just say he won't be earning any father of the year awards anytime soon, like ever. And he has had multiple chances/children (6) to learn.

Now back closer to the present. 7 years ago, I started dating a man (the friend and her husband were not even together at this time) who I would like to say I never should have been with. But I was, and I don't regret it. Then I got pregnant. I knew even before we broke up I would be a single parent. His parenting skills were definitely not anything to be proud of. I do not regret my decision to have my son and I never will. But as expected, my decision to become a single parent became reality before my child was even born.

The friend's husband does not accept this. In fact, he looks down on me for my choices. I am not one of those single parents who takes handouts easily (for the two months I was on state assistance, I didn't want to be. I returned to work after my two months maternity leave. The people at the assistance office tried to convince me to stay OUT of work longer to bond longer with the baby. Which is fine and good for some people-just not stubborn ones who want to work because they feel it sets a better example for their kids. And my son is plenty bonded, thank you very much.). The simple fact that I am a single parent alone immediately makes him better than me. I am not okay with this.

I sent the friend a message two months ago explaining how I felt (after hearing that he was complaing that I would be bringing my child to a superbowl party that I was invited to a minimum of 10 times). I thought that after 13 years of friendship, we could discuss this as adults. I was wrong. She got offended and had me speak with her husband, which I had no problems doing. I explained my feelings, how I didn't see why he was concerning himself with my choices as it literally affected him in no way. He then explained to me that he really didn't have an issue with my being a single parent (cough-cough-bullshit-cough), rather that he just plain doesn't like children. I let him know that I am okay with that, he just needs to understand that me and my child come as a package. He will always be a part of me. And if he would like to do something, his wife is aware of which weekends I don't have my child. The other weekends he just needs to expect that we come together. And he also needs to understand that if my child is around and starts to act unacceptable (as another friends child does), I will take care of it. Period. So, we talked and made up. Came to understanding. All is done, right? Wrong.

She hasn't spoken to me (more than a sentence in email) for two months. Yes, two. A month ago I sent her a message asking if we were alright. Apparently the answer was no. I wrote back that I understood her feelings. She then waited another month before responding today.

Now comes the cattiness. I want to be the bitch. I don't want to be the bigger person. In her email she wrote "I forgive you". Excuse me? For what??? Explaining how I feel? Making her husband aware of a problem I have? Trying to be the adult? I am really at the point where I just don't care. For years we would argue over something, not speak awhile, then she would come back and things would be fine. Can this really be called a "good" friendship when you can't even discuss things?

This is just not healthy. And I think I need to stop it. Now comes to the point of how. For all these months, I have been right. I have not been the one being petty and holding onto things. Now I think the damage is just too far done. My life was drama free. Then I was (and am) happy with my life and how things were. I found a man who makes me happy. I love my kid to itty bitty pieces. Why should I have to deal with this kind of madness? Is this kind of friendship really worth all the trouble? Or am I just overreacting?

I know this affects all of my friends but at what point is it okay for me to just think about what is best for me?

My pretty car

So, this week my car got hit on, then it got hit.

This is all a little odd to me. The hit on part was some guys, who have the sportier version of my already sporty car following me waving, pointing out the features, and talking about how cool it was. Yes, I am a nerd and looked in the rearview to watch. Yeah, I watched them as I drove past too. Buh-bye. Take that Evolution!

Then yesterday, the most freakish accident ever happened. I was on I-5, doing 60 when this big old semi runs over some road debri. It kicks the debri up (a square of plastic like 6 inches by 8 inches) and over my lane, smacks into the side mirror of an SUV, scrapes all along the SUV, bounces off the end, and right smack into the front corner of my hood. Leaving a big fatty dent. Yay.

I mean, it could have been a lot worst (seriously, that thing was going FAST). What if it actually hit my window? That would have completely sucked ass.

But I am really beginning to think that this car is cursed. Who goes through 3 windshields in 3 years? Me. Then flying crap bounces over the car and then comes back to hit it? Yup. Still me.

Usually at this point, I would be raging mad but you know what that will get me? Nothing. So what is the point in wasting the energy being pissed off? Yesterday was a good day, as was the day before and it is just a car. It's not the end of the world, it's just a dent. The car can't be pretty forever and I am okay with that.

Just don't break anymore damn windshields, kay?