Sassy chickens

Just right

2006-11-05T21:20:00.000-08:00

So, it looks like I have a problem with writing on this thing. So far, it averages to about once a month. Oops.

It's not like I don't have anything to say but really that I don't want to nauseat people with what I have to say. I am that girl. The one who obnoxiously talks about the boyfriend too much. But after this weekend, I feel the need to again share.

I decided we needed to escape for the weekend. You know, get away from the city. (See, I told you. That. Girl.) I booked us a cabin in Leavenworth. A nice, quiet, secluded, no kids, no relatives get away. And this literally has been the best weekend I have had in my life.

The cabin was amazing. A real log cabin in the woods. There was about 2 inches of snow on the ground when we got there. Inside there was two small loveseats, a woodburning stove, a full kitchen, two large (okay, they were a little tiny) bedrooms, and stairs leading up to the loft with two more twin beds and some couches. Outside the windows all you could see were trees. Beautiful, not citified trees. Oh yeah, and outside near the beautiful deck was the hot tub. Amazing.

It was nice knowing that it was just us up there. We didn't have to worry about running into anyone we knew. We could just be us. Together. I knew that all of his attention was focused on me. And all of his affection. I told him I wanted chocolate cake. So we walked through all of the shops in search of that cake. Simply because I had asked for it.

As we sat in the hot tub, all he did was stare at me. He looked me in the eyes and told me I was beautiful and how much he loved me. And at that moment, with the steam rising, the rain dripping, snow on the ground and dark blue skies, I felt myself completely let go. All of the fears I had, every concern I could possibly think of disappeared. This man loves me with every bit of himself. At that moment, I could see it all over his face.

This reality, this understanding that someone can feel or you so deeply is something that can never be completely described. But I wish that everyone of my friends at some point will get to feel like I do with this man. That every woman will get to be "that girl". Because this is even better than the chocolate cake.

Getting Settled

2006-10-01T20:47:00.000-07:00

Do you ever just have those feelings that something is just not right? You have no idea what it is there is just...something. And no matter how hard you try to shake it, it just can't be done.

I had a day like that. Saturday. I woke up, and just didn't know what was wrong with me. I had no sniffles. My head was fine. I hadn't drank anything the night before so that wasn't it. I should have felt fine. We had big plans with Doodle and the boys. We were all going to the aquarium in the morning, then off to the drive-in that night. All 5 of us. Doodle got to my house, we took care of some household things and he watched all the boys while I went shopping (what a man...). I got back and we headed to his house.

But he could tell that something was up. He asked me if I was gonna have another freakout. I told him maybe. He asked if it was because of all the boys. I told him I didn't think so but I would atleast wait until they were gone before it happened. But I didn't have to. Apparently we all needed to have a freakout.

The kid and the middle kid had been bickering and fighting all day. The middle kid antagonizes the kid. The kid makes a big deal out of nothing. Both boys want to be in charge. Finally, we hit my last straw. The middle kid smeared off the kids face paint (the had a face painter at the aquarium). I had had it. Apparently so had Doodle.

When we got to his house, we all sat down. Doodle said we would go our way for the day and they would go theirs. Then we all talked. Doodle told the boys we were all hanging out together because I liked him and he liked me. He wanted us all to be a family but they were making this very difficult and we had just about had it. He asked all of them if they wanted us all to be a family or if we should all just go our seperate ways. They all emphatically agreed we should be a family. The boys (minus the kid) we all crying. Doodle asked them if they thought the kid was going to replace them. They shyly said yes. He told them that just as he loves both of them differently, he loves them equally. And that's how he would love the kid. Differently but equally. He would never love any of them anymore than the other. No matter what. And if they had something to say, they could talk to him. And them the kid raises his hand to say something (the whole time he is sitting right next to me with his arm around my shoulder. He doesn't like a crying mama). He tells the boys they can talk to his mom too. I am so proud of that child.

We all finish up our talk then go to clean the playroom. As a family.

Later that night, we all went to the drive-in. We all packed into the back of the big truck to watch the movie together. Me and Doodle in the back, the boys and all the blankets piled around us. And at that moment, something finally settled in me. I don't really know how to explain it except that everything just felt...right. I felt like right there was where I belonged. Completely. I was a part of this. I was a part of all these boys. And I felt like this is exactly what I wanted for the rest of my life. I have said before that I wanted to marry Doodle. But at that moment I realized that I not only wanted him, I wanted his family. Our family.

A mommy moment

2006-09-06T13:51:00.000-07:00

Monday was Labor Day. Me and the Auntie decided to take a day trip to Fort Warden in Port Orchard. We didn't tell the kid where we were going or what we were doing. We kept it a surprise.

As we get to Seattle and pull into the ferry docks, the kid starts freaking out. He can't contain himself. He is so excited. And happy. You could see the pleasure on his face.

We get out of the Jeep and go to look at the water as we wait. The kid starts looking for fish. A couple beside us point them out and discuss how they are called a school when they swim. The kid is fascinated by all these new things. Sure, he's seen fish-he even has a couple-but they weren't on the dock with the ferry boat.

Finally, it is time for us to board the boat. He can't wait, he has never been on a ferryboat (that he remembers). When we get to the top, he gets scared and we have to coax him outside. Once he gets adjusted, he really enjoys it. He likes looking out at the water, seeing the ferry "fart", and watching the people. We get off the ferry and start our drive. For once, the kid doesn't complain that it is too far (that comes later).

We get to the fort, go have lunch by the water, go play over by the lighthouse. The kid steps up on the rocks and looks out at the ocean. He giggles when the water crashes close by him. He wants to get closer but we won't let him.

As I am watching all this, I think about how genuinely happy I am. How this child has made my life amazing. In all of my growing up plans, I never realized that having a child-having this child-would change me so much. I can see things through his eyes. I get a little excited when I see the ferry boat too. I am so very lucky.

The feeling of being a parent can't even be described. And the fact that this child is learning from me, he is experiencing what I did while I was growing, and he is giving me such amazing joy. I am finally beginning to see life as it should be. It's not just all about the drama of how I got to this point, but how I choose to make the best use of my time and make memories with my son. I know that he will remember that day. And so will I.

My Move

2006-08-18T07:45:00.000-07:00

So, since I haven't been around a lot, I figured maybe it was time to update this. I have exactly 10 minutes so ignore anything that makes no sense. Ready...set...go!

Things I like:
-Not being cranky.
-Not needing a nap due to emotional exhaustion.
-Not having to tell anyone when I have to go to the bathroom.
-Not being up before the sun. Well, not feeling like it is before the sun.
-Getting parking and not taking the shuttle like I thought I would have to. And I have to walk right past Doodle's work so I can visit.
-Not being bored.
-Feeling like I am finally learning something instead of just sitting still. Forever.
-Having to get off my lazy behind and walk forever since I am in the opposite corner of, oh, EVERYTHING.

Things I don't like:
-I think they forgot to update this part of the building. Like, ever.
-Wooden stairs. Yes, I said wooden stairs. They are in the fire escape. Are we seeing a problem with this? Wood + fire=bad.
-Everything creaks and squeeks. And when the helicopters were swarming the last couple of days, I thought they might land on my head.
-Talking about food. All. Day. Long.
-People who understand my randomness. I'm sure they will up here eventually but I am not letting them see it yet.
-The smell of AGF in the morning. There is no good smelling boys up here.

So, I miss you guys. But not the job. See you at lunch, kay?

Progress

2006-08-07T06:08:00.000-07:00

This weekend I spent a lot of time with Doodle, his boys, and the kid. We spent 5 hours at the zoo on Saturday and a couple of hours shopping at Costco on Sunday.

The zoo was great. Lots of animals-including the boys. We brought our lunch and first thing sat down to eat. Doodle had packed some chicken, salad fixings, and fruit since he knows and supports my attempts at ass shrinkage. We walked around for awhile but still didn't see everything. There was however lots of "I want to see this! Lets go here! But I didn't do it!" and just about every other phrase that I irritated my mother with as a child. There was a point when I was about to hunt down a zoo keeper for a tranquilizer. For me. The insanity of 3 (4 if you count Doodle) boys was a lot to deal with. I am still not quite used to being surrounded by boys as my family is predominately female. We decided it was time to pack it up as the complaints started to get louder "I'm thiiiiirsty. My legs hurt. My feet hurt..."

When we got back to Doodle's house, he cleaned out the pool and set the boys up so they could attack each other with water guns. I knew I had missed him last week (he had the boys all week so I only saw him on Monday) but didn't realize how much until I saw him again. We all sat down, had dinner and the boys were watching a movie. I was standing in the kitchen cuddling him. He looks down and me and says "I could get used to this". He has said that before but he had a different look in his eyes this time. Then he says, "I could even see the possibility of m-m-marriage".

This is a first. He has made it no secret from the beginning that he was very hurt by his first marriage and had no intent to try again. I knowingly stayed with him since I had no idea our relationship would turn into this. He is completely opposite of my "dream" guy-or so I thought. I imagined I would be with this extremely intelligent lawyer type guy. Someone who worked a lot and would provide for me everything I demanded (and I would demand it). Someone who went to work in business suits. And definitely someone who was not a hairy man.

Doodle is not that at all. He is intelligent, but in different ways. He is smart in saving his money, preparing outings, and making the most of his time with his kids. He is smart in the little things, like knowing which salad dressing I like and how my coffee should be made in the morning. He is throwing a suprise party for my son. He is completely not the lawyer type. He works on arcade games. He moves pool tables. His choice of clothing is shorts, a wife beater, a t-shirt and tennis shoes. And he will be the first to call himself gorilla man.

As it turns out, I am happier with him than I thought possible. All those sappy things you hear about, that's me. I am one of those obnoxiously in love people. I am okay with it.

And apparently his boys are not as bothered by it as we thought they would be either. Like I said, I missed him so the affection was running amuck. I had told Doodle earlier that I would try to keep the kisses to a minimum around the boys. He asked me why and said he didn't think that it was a bad thing for them to see two people who love each other being affectionate. As we were walking through Costco, the boys--his boys--could be heard saying "Okay, then we could have a little brother. And two moms. And two dads. That wouldn't be bad..."

The Talk.

2006-08-04T05:25:00.000-07:00

Yup. We had it. Not nearly as traumatizing as I thought. For me I mean.

I asked some other parents for a book since the kid is an inquisitive one and he really likes books. They all recommended this one. I picked it up and decided I would give it to him on the way home.

Me: You know how you keep asking where babies come from?

Kid: Uh-huh.

Me: I got you a book so we could talk about it.

Kid: Oooh! Can I read it?? Can I read it now?? Pleeeease mommy, can I have it?

Me: Okay kid. Here is the book. If you have any questions, you can ask and we will talk about again when we get home.

Kid: Okay! Ooh, the baby comes from the bird and the kitty and the man and the hospital. [flips page] EWWWWWW! That's gross!!! Why are they naked? They should have some clothes on!!!

Me: No kid. Sometimes it's okay. The book is just trying to show you how man and woman are different.

Kid: Oh! You mean like those things you have? The ones above your belly that I am not supposed to touch?

Me: Yeah, just like those.

Kid: OH! I got it! I know how I got here! You decided you wanted a boy and told the doctor. I got in your belly and the doctor told you I was a boy. The you said, hmm, I have to think of a really good name for him. Then you said I know, I will call him mommy! HAHAHAHA [actually says haha and slaps his knee]. No, that's goofy. Then you say hmmm, I will call him chicken. HAHAHAHA [again, saying haha. He really thinks he is hilarious]. I am a silly mom. Then you say oh! I know! I will call him Nikolas. Right? Yeah, I remember that day. It was a Tuesday.

We keep driving and then he says:

Kid: I know how the man and woman kiss.

Me: Really, how is that?

Kid: The woman kisses the man with those things above her belly.

Me: No kid, that isn't true. A woman kisses a man just the same-with their lips.

Kid: Oh, well then what are they for?

Me: When you are a baby and you have no teeth, you drink milk and those things make milk for the baby.

Kid: No, the baby just needs to eat baby food.

Me: Not at first. At first the baby has to have milk.

Kid: Oh, okay. Does the man touch those things?

Me: Sometimes a grown up man does. But none of this happens until you are a grown up.

Kid: I don't wanna be a grown up! Please don't make me mommy! Pleeeeeease, Pleeeeeease, Pleeeeeease!

Me: Well, you want to go to work right? You can't go to work unless you are a grown up.

Kid: Oh, okay. Do we have to give the book back?

Me: No. It's yours. I bought it for you.

Kid: Cool! So if I ever forget where babies come from I can look at my book right?

Me: Yup.

Almost home. I have just about survived phase 1 of the talk. I let him play a little bit and tell him alright, it's time to read the book. So we sit together and read it. He tells me he really likes the part where they are laying together and there is hearts above their heads. He is all kinds of intrigued with the fact that it takes 9 months for the baby to get here. He looks at the pictures and takes notice of how the baby starts really tiny and ends up getting here looking like a baby. I think he's got it. So I ask him.

Me: So kid, where do babies come from?

Kid: Well, they are in the mommy's belly for 9 months and then they come out the mommy's butt.

Me: Well, you are close but not quite. You know how the pictures showed us how men and women have different parts?

Kid: Yeah...

Me: Well, the baby comes from the mommy part.

Kid: No way. It's too small. A baby won't fit through there.

Me: Yup. It does.

Kid: Oh, okay. Can I go outside?

I am so glad it wasn't raining yesterday. And I can not believe my child is old enough for me to have a conversation like this. I swear, he was just this little 6 pound blob with too much hair! For the first three months, he wouldn't go to sleep unless he was laying on my chest. Now he is asking how the blobs get here? I would like to say I'm not ready for it but I guess I don't really have a choice. Just like he doesn't want to grow up, as much as I complain, I would almost be okay with him never being a grown up. I said almost.

Besides, he can't be too close to growing up yet. When I took a nap yesterday he still climbed up and rested his head on my chest.

Ode to the Laughing Cow

2006-08-03T09:43:00.000-07:00

Oh, sweet little cheese triangle. How you make me happy.
Only 35 itty bitty calories. 1 Point People!
With all your garlic and herby goodness.
Yummy.

But you, dear cheese, stick to the crinkles in the foil.
I want every drop of the calories but you just won't let go.
I want to lick you but that would be wrong.
I think.

And the cracker? Why must you require crackers?
I just can't resist.
Except I only brought one wedge.
Sniff.

How I love you dear Laughing Cow Light Creamy Garlic and Herb Spreadable Wedge.

Now that my kid is back...

2006-08-02T05:31:00.000-07:00

I have stories about how freakin adorable he is again. And since he hasn't been back long, I don't have any of the terror stories yet. Give it a day.

Yesterday as we were driving home from summer camp, the kid asks me what day it is. I tell him Tuesday. He says no, what number. I tell him August 1st. He promptly starts singing, "It's almost my biiir-thday. It's almost my biiir-thday." Then abruptly stops-"It is almost my birthday right mom?" I tell him yes and he continues singing.

I ask him what he wants for dinner on his birthday. He says, "hmmm, let me think [tapping his finger on his chin and looking up to the ceiling]...I want cheeseburgers and pizza-with no begetables". He still can't say vegetable right and it is so cute I don't correct him. I know, bad mom. Anyway, I tell him he has to pick one.

Kid: "Cheeseburger"
Me: "Are you sure?"
Kid: "No, pizza"
Me: "Are you sure?"
Kid: "Uh-huh"

I tell him I am hanging out with him all day on his birthday so I ask what he wants for breakfast. "Ummmm, something delicious...scrambled eggs and waffles." I ask him what he wants for lunch. Cheeseburgers. Bye diet. It was nice knowing you...

And in non food related stories, my phone went MIA yesterday. I am a little attached to my phone. Okay, that's not true. I am obsessively attached to my phone. I sent the kid into the bathroom so that he could take his shower. He comes out of the bathroom, naked, with his hand and my pink phone covering the front and his other hand attempting to cover his booty. He says, "Here mom, I found your phone."

Things I won't miss about this job...

2006-08-01T05:15:00.000-07:00

I have been offered a position in accounts receivable with the Coffee Giant. I start on August 14th. After 3 1/2 years, I am finally getting out of this black pit we refer to as CR. Someone is giving me the chance to do more than apologize without meaning it and giving away the company's money all in the name of customer service. So, here are the things I will gladly be passing on to some other poor soul.

1. I'm sorry maam. There is nothing more we can do for you.
2. Maam, you sent in 8 year old mugs. It is ceramic. They break. There is nothing more we can do for you.
3. You hit a stationary object. There is nothing more we can do for you.
4. Cheeks hurting from all the fake smiling while on the phone. They can't even see the damn smile.
5. Stalkers.
6. Repeating myself over and over. And over again.
7. A 4x6 space for all my crap. I have a lot of crap. Although I am not gonna get too excited because I may just be moving to another 4x6 space.
8. Getting stuck by a train when you have exactly 3 minutes to get to work. And the sun isn't even up.
9. Not being allowed to take time off because 1 other person already has. And then the powers that be let two other people off.
10. The first call of the morning being a big fat whiner. "You shouldn't sell a cup as spill proof for kids if it isn't." It's spill resistant dummy.
11. Finally, taking a shower half asleep and forgetting to rinse out the conditioner. Again.

Kids

2006-07-27T07:23:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I took my on again/off again friend to her doctors appointment. She has been having some pregnancy complications so gets an ultrasound at almost every visit. Yesterday was no different. I had never watched this except for my own with the kid. Since I was the one laying there, with my back hurting and completely uncomfortable for almost 2 hours, it was not the most memorable experience.

Watching this ultrasound was a totally different experience. I got to see the baby. I saw his face, his hands, his legs, his spine, and even his toes. As much as I don't want to be, I am sure I will be just as connected to this child as to my kids best buddy. I know it is totally cliche but this really was an amazing experience. This is now not just a belly, there is a baby in there. A child with a name. The baby already weighs 3 lbs. That is half of what my child was at birth. I know that this child will be loved.

And in other stories, here is why my kid and my niece are adorable. They say the cutest things.

From the mouth of the niece: My sister pulls up in front of the hotel next to the airport where my mom was staying. The niece knows that nana is coming to town. There has also been a lot of discussion on how they will be moving to California where nana lives in a little bit.

Sister: "Do you know where we are at niece?" (sitting in front of the hotel)
Niece: "California".

Poor kid thinks that nana lives at the hotel, also known as California.

From the mouth of the kid: The kid has a problem with getting up early. We put an alarm clock in his room so that he knows when he is allowed to get up. If there is a 7 and any number after, he can get out of bed. Otherwise, he should still be sleeping.

Kid: "I have to go to the bathroom! I have to go to the bathroom! I have to go to the bathroom!"
Me: "Hold on kid, I am almost done."
Kid: "Mommy? Is that you?"
Me: "Yes kid, I will be right out."
Kid: "Oh. Okay. I love you mom."
Me: "I love you too kid."

My Advice: NEVER get a baby daddy

2006-07-26T09:38:00.000-07:00

The jackass finally decided to call me back. I have been attempting to speak with him for two weeks now. I have called every other day and even left a note on his car. Today, I am done. I called his work and let them know it was in regards to the kid. He finally decides to call me back. After two freakin weeks.

He immediately starts yelling at me for saying there is an emergency with the kid. I tell him to a) stop yelling at me and b) I never said it was an emergency. If they chose to relay the message to him as an emergency, he should speak to the dispatcher about that. I just said it was in regards to the kid, and it is. I tell him that he now has to give me $560 for the summer camp and since he has not given me anything all month, I would be requiring him to pay for all of it. He asks that I pay for half. I tell him no, that is not going to happen. Regardless, he is required to pay $486 a month and how I choose to spend that is at my discretion. As he paid nothing for last month (his rationale, he has had him the whole month therefore I have no expenses related to the child. Never mind the room that still belongs to the kid, his clothes, his birthday expenses, school items, haircuts, etc.) I tell him I expect the entire $560. In all honesty, I am owed $972 so he is getting off cheap on this deal.

He says that I mentioned something to his wife about him staying the extra month. I told him that I said that as he was choosing not to pay but it is not really an option. I am not comfortable with a 14 year old child watching 3 (or 4) children regardless of the fact that it is his brother. And my child needs to learn how to be in a structured setting before he starts school in September. He tries to argue that he is doing things, therefore it is structured. I tell him the kid doesn't have a schedule (ex. baskteball from 1:30-2, swimming from 2-3:30, etc.) so this is not what I call structured. That needs to change.

But all of this makes no sense to him. He is a parent. He is being a responsible parent by NOT paying child support, but also not even spending time with him. He is responsible because the kid is at his house and not mine. The kid is being watched by a 14 year old kid-but it's okay since it's his brother. My son isn't spending time with his father. He is spending time with his brothers.

I want to scream at him. I want to make him understand that he is missing everything about my son. He doesn't know anything about him. He told me they are making him go to bed at 7:30-8 because he gets snotty when he stays up too late. I already know this. He has been like this since he was a baby. He doesn't do well when he is tired and when he plays, he plays hard so he needs more rest than most kids. He is missing his whole childhood and he just doesn't get it. My son (nor any of the other boys) doesn't have a dad, they have a father. I wanted more for my child. You could say I wanted him to have what I didn't even though what I had wasn't too bad.

So I guess all of this isn't even really about the money. It's about his oblivion to such an amazing human being that we've both created. I am proud of my son and I know he is proud of me. He loves me and I know that he loves his dad as well. I just wish his dad got the same glee out of his children saying "I love you" as I do. But that will never happen.

So here is my advice. Think really hard about who you are with. Think about five years, or even ten years down the road. Think about what you want for yourself and then decide if they fit that role. If you are adding children in there, think about them. Imagine what might happen if for some reason it just doesn't work. How committed and dedicated to you is your significant other? Is that going to be enough for someone who needs to be supported (meaning the kid)? Think about the type of person they (and you) are. Is that the type of person you want to have a duplicate of? Because as much as I love the kid, I can only hope he doesn't turn out like his father. Or in other words, the baby daddy. I am doing my part but sometimes that just isn't enough. Hopefully I am wrong.

Back up Ladies...

2006-07-24T08:11:00.000-07:00

This is my man. Uh-huh. I know you want him in all his goofball glory.

But really, I had an amazing birthday for the first time in awhile in part because of this man. I just can't get over how different this relationship is from any other.

My past birthdays (when I had boyfriends) included one guy telling me how beautiful I was. Nice, huh? Oh wait, that was the boy who had just broken up with one of my best friends. He had been hitting on me then entire time they were together. We finally got together shortly after said birthday, dated for two months, I trusted him too much, and had my first taste of how trashy men can be.

Then you have the baby daddy. It was tradition for me to go to Oregon. It had been that way pretty much since I turned 18. He was invited to go but chose not to because he "had" to work. Cause you know, two days off is just not acceptable. When I got back, he got enough shit from the roomates and neighbors that he had a "party" for me. That would mean I got some dead roses (they started that way), 2 mylar balloons and I think my gift was a necklace. I know I am sounding ungrateful but the only reason he even did this was because he got yelled at by the female neighbor. He was pissed off at me so he wasn't going to do anything. Thus was a guilt party, not done out of any sense of caring. If he had even tried, it wouldn't be such an issue to me.

And finally in the bad chain of birthdays you have last year. With the nutjob. He liked to talk about what he was going to do but never any follow through. I got flowers for my birthday and $100. Sure, cash is great but for someone you had been dating for over a year, you would think he would know me well enough to atleast pick something out. The cash didn't even come in a card. And I got one day of him cleaning up after himself and not yelling at me to do it. One day of him cooking dinner instead of me. And one day of him not being an ass or lovingly (not) referring to me as a bitch. Things returned to normal the next morning.

Now for this year. I spent an entire weekend being happy. Happy with him around and even with him not there. He got everything I wanted and barbequed for a whole lotta people. My friends and family (the ones that I like anyways) all showed up. We chatted and it was just a nice easy time. No stress, no freakouts, just plain no drama. Everyone seemed to have a good time. My son came home and all the kids were having a good time. My kid gave me cheek, told me I was the best-twice-and at of nowhere told me he loved me. I usually try to celebrate my birthday without my kid but this year, it wasn't really necessary. I was surrounded by people who love me. And you can't help but feel good with the backyard is full and you know they are they because of you. Even the ones that want to step on kids and are afraid of dudes (Hi!) ventured to my ghetto. Just because I asked them to.

The rest of the weekend was the same. Even though it was hot as all getout and there was a whole lotta stink happening, I felt okay. My Doodle loves me, my family loves me, my friends love me. It's nice considering last year, I wasn't sure that I would ever be in this position. Even though I was with some one, I was still alone. And now, since Doodle, I always feel like there is someone there. It is different when it isn't family. But I guess now he kinda is...

Oh, and the suspense is killing me. He apparently wasn't done and has another present for me (which he has to get. With all my demands, he didn't have time.). He is bringing it over today. He said that whatever this is, I can't compare it to anything else. I can't try to match it with gift giving. I have absolutely no idea what he is getting and I can't wait for the end of today...

Nice people make me happy

2006-07-20T13:19:00.000-07:00

Since I seem to be a whiner a lot (whah, I have to wear a dress. whah, my job sucks. whah, my boyfriend is a jerk. Wait-that's not true!) I have decided to share a nice inspiring store about someone who doesn't suck.

This all goes back 6 years ago. I had just left the baby daddy and started working in my very first Coffee Giant store. I hadn't found out at this point yet that he was worst than the average scumbag (cheater) but we were separated. About two weeks after I started there was when I found out.

Almost everyone was the same age as me (or close to it) so we all got along very well. While we were cleaning store, or making the mocha, or grinding the coffee we obviously chatted about a lot of things. Me being one of them. We talked about all the weird stuff happening to my body, the jackass AKA baby daddy, how I was all on my own now, I would not be going back to him, and how I felt awful that I had to live off of my mom. They all sympathized with me and somehow made the situation a little more bearable. All my co-workers were amazing, even before the complete picture was obvious. After they found out the latest drama, the boys (including my boss) threatened to kick his ass and the girls were nice and sympatic.

I decided which date would be my last one at work and let them all know. I was going to try to work a week longer but unfortunately my body had other plans. I worked until 3 days before I had my son (I was supposed to have two weeks til he was here. Didn't happen) and was on bedrest for those 3 excruciating days. Seriously, you try not being allowed to go any further than the bathroom for 72 hours. You will go insane. I'm talkin' you can't even make your own sandwich. Bad.

Anyway, one of those 3 days, a girl from work came to visit me. I was so excited to see someone I was not related to. This girl had only worked at our store for about a month so we didn't know each other very well. But she lived about 1 mile away from the house. Apparently, she had told her church people about me-the 19 year old soon to be mom with bad taste in men- and they all collected some baby clothes. I'm talkin 2 or 3 garbage bags full of clothes. Some of them brand new.

I was shocked that all these complete strangers were willing to do something that meant so much. Then the girl went back out to her car for another box. She came in with a brand new stroller. This was far more than I could have imagined. I didn't have a stroller. My family got the smaller items but no one-myself included-could really afford to spend $100 on a chair with wheels. She purchased this for me out of her own pocket. Her I-only-make-$7.25-an-hour-but-am-giving-that-to-you pocket. I barely knew this girl and unfortunately, I don't even remember her name. But the fact that she did that for me and my son meant more than anyone could imagine. It's these things that make me realize that life really can't suck that bad.

Another good thing also came out of this. When she came to bring me the stroller, she brought her brother with her. Apparently, he had been doing all kinds of drugs and was quickly going downhill. After I had my son, the church had collected some more items. The girl wasn't around so he brought them to my house. The kid was only about 5 days old. He held the baby and you could see something change in his eyes. He was in awe of this child (as was everyone else) and was amazed at the experience I had. He left and I didn't see him again. The girl later told me that after he saw the baby, he realized that that was something he could have. That was his chance to do something important and meaningful. He stopped doing drugs completely and was preparing to be a parent himself. He went back to church. He was back to being her brother again.

So moral is, my life really doesn't suck. Some parts of it maybe, but as a whole I wouldn't have wanted things to be different. People have helped me so much along the way and I would like to think I have helped them too. And to all of you guys, thank you. Thanks for making me take back shoes that hurt, offering my your allergy medicine after my kid went to the baby daddy's house, and for the random aisle jigs that always make me laugh. You guys also do not suck.

Oooh! And you know what else makes me happy? MY BIRTHDAY! And ice cream cake that was supposed to have a penis on it but instead has a Teddy Bear with lots of pink.

Commitment Phobic

2006-07-17T14:35:00.000-07:00

I am talking about me here. And not in the commited to Doodle kinda way. I would commit to that dude in two seconds flat. I'm talking the everyday kinda commitment. You know, the little stuff.

Like committing to clean. I actually chose to work extra instead of go home to cleaning. And I do not like work. My house isn't really that bad but I couldn't just say I am going to clean and do it.
Or going for walks. I even bought the shoes. And the walk really isn't all that difficult. I have no reason not to go besides I don't wanna. I even at one time decided I was going to Florida (even bought the tickets) but backed out. Granted, there was hurricanes coming and the nutjob was really not keen on the idea but still, absolutely no follow through on my part.

So this is my problem. I don't know why I can't go through with anything. Okay, that's not true. If I am not good at something or am slightly uncomfortable, I won't even go for it. Which boils down to the confidence that I should have, but don't. Considering where I came from in the confidence/personality sense, I have come a long way but it's just not enough to me. I want to be able to say I am doing something and have no qualms about it. So that is my plan.

I am gonna start this plan with the dress. The really fun pretty dress. I never, ever, EVER wear them. The last time I wore one was in May 2005 for my friends wedding. I was in the wedding so I had no choice. And I have committed to wearing heels (but the ones I bought hurt) so I may go with baby steps-heels for the wedding, sandals for the reception. See, no commitment.

He's a man

2006-07-13T06:19:00.000-07:00

Between all the baking and sweet stuff Doodle does, I sometimes forget that he really is a man in the stereotypical sense.

Last night as we were leaving the German Bar he tells me it was well worth it for him to go pay the bill. He gets that nerdy I-am-a-12-year-old-boy look and says, "Blondie rubbed her boobs against my back". I started to laugh at him. I already caught him earlier checking out her ass as she walked away. He then tells me, "Don't worry. It wasn't just her boobs I was watching. I am an equal opportunity watcher. I looked at all the women. Even the older ones." He then opens the door for me to get in the truck. And of course as we are driving says, "Don't worry, yours are the best".

This whole situation completely amuses me where I am pretty sure most woman would get their panties in a twist. A couple of months ago I would have been too. But I have come to realize that is just not acceptable (or exceptable as some would say) to have that much anger towards something so natural. It is just how we were made. And why would it be okay for the two chicks at the table-including me-to be enjoying the men in the bar but not for him to enjoy the woman?

Bottom line is you can look but you can't touch. And I am finally secure enough in a relationship to actually mean that. Besides, it has to be a little less doggish and man-like if he is buying me dinner, opening my door, and dealing with all the last minute insanity without any gripes. The last minute insanity alone fully entitled him to a little boob watching. And my god-hers were huge!

Rage

2006-07-11T11:24:00.000-07:00

Being on Cloud Doodle has done pretty well in keeping my sanity. But I am slowly starting to feel it slip away. Between work, the impeding family attack, my birthday, and my kid being daddified I think I may just lose it.

Right now, I am so tired of people I would seriously trade this job with something-really anything-off of the show 'Dirty jobs'. If you have never seen it, you may not want to. Unless you have a couple of bottles of wine. For some reason, the show is amazing then. Especially when you don't like wine. I would even do the chicken poop shooting job right now (it's actually called chick sexer). Atleast I would be handling cute little chicks all day-even if there was shit all over. Then it really would be getting paid for doing a shitty job.

The family attack kinda blends right along with the birthday thing. My mother is coming to town. I love my mother so that is great. However, the fact that all my family will want to see my mother will be a problem. If you don't have a family like mine, you wouldn't understand. And I don't honestly don't think there is another like mine. Let's start at the top and meet all the players:

*Grandma and Grandpa-divorced for longer than I have been alive. Yet both still attend all family functions. Grandma has had a boyfriend before but it is clear grandpa still loves grandma.

*Aunt 1-this is the smart who got while the gettin' was good. She got married at 18 and moved away. First to Idaho and apparently that was too close. She now lives in Tennessee with her two kids (16 and 14). The 16 year old is a mini-me-but smarter.

*Mom-we have this issue the therapists like to call "co-dependecy". My mom is a prime example of it. Hence my slack ass sister will be moving back with her. Clearly the co-depency is also genetic as I speak to my mother atleast once a day. Sometimes more. She also had my sister who is a 24 year old child. We don't need to get into how ridiculous she is. We all now.

*Aunt 2-this is the one I live with. I am her mini-me and she is a lifesaver. I don't know what I would do if she didn't move back up here. Well, yes I do. I would very likely still be dating the nutjob, defending my child's skin tone, losing my voice because of all the yelling or sitting in my room as a horribly depressed shell of myself. All this would be happening while his ex sleeps on the couch.

*Aunt 3-this is the one married to the 600+lb man. She has self esteem issues which sometimes flare up at family functions. And she brings this man with her who generally treats her like crap. For the first time in 6 years, she got roses from him last month. This is the only gift she has ever been given from him. Nothing for birthdays, Christmas, anniversary, etc. Not only that but he is not capable of taking care of himself and is just generally not respectful. You know that creepy guy who doesn't understand that there is a time and a place for everything? Such as grabbing boobs? He doesn't quite grasp that Easter is not the time to honk my aunt's girls.

Now for the uncles:
*Uncle 1-This one is a tow truck driver. The baby-daddy was a tow truck driver. The whole profession makes my skin crawl. And this uncle is the one known for borrowing money and never returning it. He also has the common law wife who is seriously whacked out. She is a hypochondriach. This week she is diabetic, last week it was depression, I am pretty sure at some point she had ulcers. But I suppose you can't really blame her-her parents name her and her identical twin Rita Jean and Rena Joan. I couldn't make that up if I tried.

*Uncle 2-This one is also a tow truck driver. See above for full explanation of problems with that. And an undercover drug addict. And has done some other shady things that are just not appropriate to discuss.

*Uncle 3-This one is also a truck driver. Yep, all of them. For the same company. They all smell like dirty and grease. And come to family functions wearing said dirt and grease. Ew. He used to be a plain old truck driver and decided to convert to a nasty tow truck driver. This one is also only 5 years older than me. That would be younger than my boyfriend. By a lot.

Converge all this together, plus cousins, mix in a few extra's (my family unofficially adopts lots of people) and you have about 30 smelly, loud, dirt wearing, cup shaking, "stop doing that" people. All in my house-we even have to re-arrange the furniture to fit everyone in for said invasions. And when they leave, there will be grease stains on my floor. Damn.

And did I mention this will be Doodle's first meeting of my mother? Uh-huh. It's a good thing he is not a jackass. I don't think my mother would ever let me date again if he was.

Then there is my kid. I miss the little snot. All the kisses. And I love you's. I even miss his non-stop chatter. LOTS of chatter. Maybe that is why I am having such issues with being at work now. With my child gone, I don't have any reason to deal with this crap. My child is being fed and housed by someone else. I don't have to find a babysitter. I have no responsibilities. I could just go on vacation (but I won't). But bottom line is, I miss my kid.

Now, now. Don't get carried away or anything. I am so not getting him back from the daddy yet. It is just strange to not have the little booger around me all the time. And don't say anything, but I kinda miss the word "mommy".

Hmmm.

2006-07-10T05:55:00.000-07:00

It's official. I am the last one to reach the final growing up stage. On Saturday, my friends wedding dress came in. She looks absolutely beautiful.

I keep very few friends close to me and this is one of them. I have known her since 7th grade. I was always jealous of her because she was a better flute player than me. As we got older, we started to talk a little more. I was always quiet in school and she was one of the few people I spoke to. We survived drivers-ed together. She went off to college, I had a baby. When she got back from college, we just picked up where we left off. It was like she never left.

Since she works in sports management, you have to take what is given to you. That meant she was working in Indiana. On one of her visits back, she told me about this man she had met. She was only going to be in town for a couple of weeks and he was quite a bit older than her. She was interested in someone else at the time. But for some reason, she found him very interesting and all of her other friends were insistent that these two were together even though they weren't. They spoke a lot for the few weeks she was here. He took her on a date but she was clueless. She took her brother along with them. They continued talking while she was halfway across the county working. After a couple of months, he went out to see her and they came back together.

For the first time, I could see she was happy. She spent all fo high school (and some of the years after) with someone who didn't appreciate her. The man she will be marrying loves her. While they may argue, that is definitely clear to me. He makes her laugh and do happy dances. For that, he is amazing.

I can't help but to wish I was in the same place. I want to be the one wearing the white dress. I had given up hope for myself but now I have my own man who makes me do happy dances (even when I am not drinking). Lucky for me, this man is doing the same happy dance right beside me.

So, for now, I am just going to look on and smile at her. She deserves this and I am ecstatic that I get to be beside her while she goes through this experience.

And I also get to see a preview of Doodle in a penguin suit.

And...Freakout...NOW!

2006-06-30T06:36:00.000-07:00

Wow. What an awful picture of me. But look at that kid. Look at his smile. And his big eyes. You can see how happy he is-with a little bit of mischief. He is such a beautiful child. Fro and all. (If you look closely you can see sunglasses hiding in all that hair.) And he is going to be gone for a month. Now I am beginning to freak out for real.

All I could think about before was WhooHoo! A month of no parenting. No telling a little body "we are not far enough from the house that we can't turn around". No more quietly laughing as he eats the shrimp in his salad. He hates shrimp. Or him eating the onions after saying "no vegetables, right?". I might go insane.

The last couple of days I have been trying to prepare him for the long daddy visit. This is the longest he has ever been away from me. And obviously the longest I have ever been away from him. I have taken care of him on my own (well, I have a lot of help from family) since literally the day he was born. Now someone else is going to be the one to get sneak kisses, not me. He is going to change so much, and I am going to miss it all.

Now that I think about it, maybe he has spent the last couple of days preparing us. He has been making sure we know he is there. He has been saying things like "you are gonna miss me, aren't you? And I am your only boy right?". And now I am crying. I mean, I have allergies.

Okay, I'm better now. No more crying-for a minute.

But yeah, I am gonna miss that boy. And I might go crazy. Please take nothing I say personal over the next month. And if I randomly bust into tears (which could happen), just ignore me. I just talked to the kid before the baby daddy took him. He said "I brought Mater with me. Okay mommy, I am going to daddy's house for a long time and you are gonna miss me and I love you."

The freakout has officially begun. Atleast there is way too much sugar and sprinkle coated chocolate sitting within 5 feet of me.

Seriously?

2006-06-29T06:05:00.000-07:00

Please, if you ever have children and end up in a baby daddy/baby momma drama situation, do not use the kids as your gopher.

During our great weekend, me and the kid hung out at the lake with Doodle and his boys. I was shocked (and almost blinded) by how pale these children were. Like whiter than my legs, which haven't seen sunshine for 20 years or so. Doodle slathered them up with the SPF 45 sun block. We were at the park for about 6 hours and unfortunately, he only put the sun block on them once. Their backs got slightly burnt. And by slightly I mean maybe an eighth of how bad I was in my whiney post. But being as their bodies have never seen sunshine, they were bothered by their burns. Doodle gave them cold showers, aloe and all the usual stuff after a sunburn. They tried scrubbing the pink off but it didn't work. They just hung around their house on Sunday (and did not go outside because of their backs). Doodle felt awful.

Then yesterday, he goes to pick up his kids and the oldest one runs out to him with two letters from his mother-who is standing on the porch and can't even have enough the decency to actually deliver him the letters herself. This woman is the epitome of what a woman should never be. He knows that atleast one of the letters will be about the sunburn. Smartly, he chooses to wait until the boys leave to read the letters. He knows he will be angry by them.

One of the letters says that the boys will no longer be attending the same school as they did before because her of move to another city. The other said that the hospital requires her to have a copy of the medical insurance card and had requested it when she took the youngest child to the hospital on Sunday where he was diagnosed with 2nd degree burns. Are you kidding me?

If this really happened, a concerned mother would be calling the other parent to bitch them out while they are at the hospital or shortly after they leave. Doodle also had his kids on Tuesday so again, if this really happened why would she wait and not tell him of the hospital visit until Wednesday? Or why wouldn't his kids say anything about it? She is a stay at home mom so there was really nothing which required her to take so long to write a letter to him. And the telephone was invented for a reason. I just don't understand women like this.

She is so angry at Doodle even though they have been divorced for over 3 years now. And the end of the relationship was due to her actions. Why would a woman/mother be so evil as to put her children in the middle of this? According to Doodle, earlier she would have told the kids what to say. He let her know that was not appropriate and if she had something to say to him, she should say it herself. Now she just gives him letters. How is this effective parenting if you can't even speak to the other parent of your children? FOR 3 YEARS. How does she not see that she is making her children feel bad? They love their father and should not feel guilty for wanting to see him.

And this makes me angry. She has no right to treat her kids-or Doodle-the way she does. If she hadn't been a lying wench who almost made them homeless, her and Doodle would probably still be together. And he would be miserable. But he would do that because he believes it is important for his kids. How does she not see that and why does she continue to punish all of them?

I guess the point of this is really-well, she is a bitch and I am glad I am not like that. Or I don't think I am. And if anyone else ends up in this situation, act like a responsible parent and think about the damage you are doing to your kids before you make them tell their daddy that he is a horrible person because they got a sunburn.

Mondays. Blech.

2006-06-26T12:12:00.000-07:00

I had such a great weekend, I strongly considered just calling in sick this morning. But then I remembered I have an attendance problem, I don't have enough sick time, and I am just a little too poor for my own good.

Friday we decided to pretend like we weren't the whitest white girls ever. My sister married a filipino man so she makes some awesome chicken adobo. And what's adobo without pancit so I got a recipe and learned how to make that. Just to shake it up a little, and completely go off the path of the filipino food, I had a craving for some california rolls and decided I was going to try to make those as well. Off we headed to the Great Wall grocery store. We had to look very carefully at everything we were buying. If it didn't have directions in English, we didn't buy it. We got all kinds of yummy stuff and spent the next two hours cooking.

See, this is why we are hamburger people. Throw a patty on the George (Foreman that is) and 10 minutes later you have dinner. Even though it took so long, the food was very tasty and I was certainly impressed with our abilities. And my ability to not punch my sister in the head for no reason other than she has been acting very stupid lately.

On Saturday Me, the auntie, the kid, and my niece all headed over to Doodle's so we could go spend the day at the lake. As usual, we were running late and didn't get to his house until almost 11:30-we were supposed to be there between 10-10:30. Oops. The 4 us of us and him with his boys all packed up headed to the lake. Luckily when we got there, we found parking and a prime spot in the grass. A little shade and some sun to go with it. The auntie and I took the kids all down to the water for a little splashing around. Doodle came to join us for a bit after getting all our stuff settled. During this event, I learned a very valuable lesson. You should never try to pull someone who is bigger than you into the water. Chances are, you will land on your butt. Literally. We went back to our spot, ate some yummy bbq and chatted a bit more. Back to the water and some more splashing.

Sunday we took a fun sporadic road trip. Me and the auntie decided it was too hot to be in our house. And she has the jeep so what better thing to do than drive the jeep somewhere. We decided to go up to Mt. Rainier. I forgot how beautiful it was. We stopped at a bunch of lookouts, had lunch while looking at the scenery, played in the snow in shorts and flip flops, got sprayed by a waterfall and took way too many mountain pictures. The views are absolutely amazing. It was such a good use of a day. When we got home, I headed over to Doodles to spend some cuddle time.

And now it is Monday. Yuck. I am sitting in a 4x6 foot space apologizing to people when I am really not sorry. It is bright and sunny outside and I have all this artificial light streaming over me. I want to be back in the mountains (this time with Doodle). I want to not feel my shoulders getting tighter and the crankiness setting in. I spent all weekend happy. These fake walls do not make me happy. And they make me think about what I was doing last year at this time.

I was kidding myself into believing I was in a happy relationship. Empty promises galore. We were supposed to go to the mountains, and the beaches and all kinds of road trips. Apparently, he was embarrassed to be seen with me because of my weight. I was taking all kinds of emotional abuse because I thought that was all I could have and was too stubborn to end something I knew wasn't right. Lucky for me, I finally did swallow my pride, temporarily move into someone else's house, and get on the path that worked for me and my son.

If I hadn't have left him when I did, I would not be where I am right now. I would not be with Doodle, and I wouldn't be able to see the sunshine and think how happy I am. When I am not in this freakin building.

Eager

2006-06-22T06:52:00.000-07:00

Again, I am having a patience problem. And I know that I need to calm down, take it slow, relax. Blah, Blah, Blah. In the words of a 5 year old, I don't wanna. I think my biological clock is going haywire. The damn thing just won't shut up.

Everytime I am with Doodle, I realize more and more how much I want to be with him. Only him forever. In all of my years of dating, I have never believed that who I was with was someone I wanted for the rest of my life. Until now.

Last night was an example of how things would be. We went over to his house, all sat together and had dinner. After dinner, the three boys all went outside to play. I sat in the lounger chair on the back porch with my feet up. Doodle stood in front of me to block out the blinding sun and tell me how beautiful I was. Over and over. We got caught by my kid sneaking kisses. The kid went into a panic of giggles and kept yelling that your dad is kissing my mom. His boys got irritated and pretty much said we don't care, now kick the ball. Doodle then went inside and brought me some iced coffee. We made a date for Saturday for all of us to hang out at the lake all day and have a picnic together.

It's starting to feel more like a family each time we are together. It's a nice feeling. I was beginning to seriously believe that my life would forever be just me and the kid. I'm sure there are worst things than that, and that some people might be content to be on their own forever. I am just not one of those people.

And on another note, here is my now first grader (with his big eyes and mini 'fro):

Too much stuff..

2006-06-21T06:26:00.000-07:00

*Warning-this could be very random, make no sense and quite possibly even be whiny.*

1. My kid is a first grader. I don't know how this happened. I am pretty sure I just took two weeks off because he wouldn't stop talking and getting in trouble. Now he is no longer a kindergartener. I am kinda sad. This means he is officially getting older and so am I. I remember thinking when I first had him how it would have been nice to be able to stay home with him until he was in school full time. That didn't happen (which is probably a good thing) but he is almost in school full time. And he has muscles. Defined arm muscles. I am not sure how this happened so I asked him. He tells me it is because of all the heathy stuff I keep feeding him. I'm not really sure pizza counts as healthy but I will let him believe it for a little while longer.

2. The kid told me, the auntie and a friend that he wants Doodle to be his dad. He has slipped and called him dad before (this was when Doodle's kids were there so I think it was a slip). I am half tempted to tell his jackass father. Maybe then he will actually pay attention to his child. But that is doubtful. And the kid likes me to call him 'honey' because that is what I call Doodle.

3. My ass seriously needs to shrink. I went for a walk yesterday with the auntie and friend. It was a beautiful walk. We went on a nice paved trail that went through streams and all kinds of shrubbery. I was huffing at about a quarter mile. We stopped and turned around at about 3/4 mile. So I walked a mile and a half and was done. That needs to change. The kid was jogging ahead of us (and was adorable I might add). The whole trail is 4 1/2 miles and we have a goal to be able to walk it all. Eventually that will happen.

4. But before the walking happens, I need new shoes. I knew my shoes probably weren't gonna work so much and I definitely wasn't wrong. I have two blisters on the bottoms of my toes, one on my pinky toe, and am sitting at work right now wearing my pink fuzzy slippers. I love my pink fuzzy slippers. I do not like blisters. My only consolation was apparently we have a foot bath. It has massagers and heat. Ahhhh...

5. Did I mention I had a first grader?

Father's Day

2006-06-19T12:51:00.000-07:00

As we have discussed, I am lacking in the male parental role. This Father's Day however was a whole different experience. I got to see lots of varieties of fathers. And none of them were related to me which is a new change.

The only positive male figure I had in my life was my grandfather. He is an amazing man. He chose to be with my grandmother although she already had 5 children. She later came to have 2 more with him. He has always been a little too smitten with my grandma which would be cute. Except they are divorced. And he makes her crazy. But they still sit side by side at all of our family functions. I am not sure how he was as a father but as a grandfather, he is great. We call him Papa Smurf because he is so short. He could always be found watching the races or pretending to be asleep (then kicking us as we walked by). If I had to have one male in my life, I am glad it could be this one. Usually the aunties will take him out for fathers day. The tradition continued this year.

Then I had a son. And he has a father. And that is all he can really be called. My son spent the weekend including Father's Day with his step mom. And was not returned to me until 8:42pm. He was supposed to be home at 6pm and goes to bed at 7:15ish. He is an ass. But I am attempting not to whine. Too much.

Then there is Doodle. He is an amazing father. He had his boys from 9-6 and gleaned every minute from them. He danced in the car with them. And barked along to "Who let the dogs out" on their favorite family friendly station-Radio Disney. On more than one occasion, his boys snuggled up against him and he easily swung his arm around them. No concern with making them "wussy boys" just him making sure they were loved. Both of the boys just randomly came up to him and hugged him across the belly while saying "I love you dad". I seriously almost had tears. I am such a sap.

Then there is Doodle's father. 3 generations of Doodle boys all in a room. He makes jokes. Tells stories about things they did when they were younger. Friends they have gone to visit. He is sick but you can see how much he loves them all. He has his coughing fits then just continues on with what he was saying. He is a fighter. And I have a feeling these boys (and his wife) are why.

This year I got to sit with a great family that was not my own. There was no dysfunction. No yelling. Everyone was content just to be together. No drama. No excessive craziness. No stepping over people on the floor because we are out of chairs. I love my family but this was so nice. A chance to be celebrating good fathers.

Growing up

2006-06-13T06:22:00.000-07:00

I am now part of a wedding party for the second wedding in less than two years. The Gabster has finally met someone who is close to worthy of her. Fred was married in May of 05.

I first met the Gabster in 7th grade. She was always the 1st chair flute player. She played sports. She seemed like such a confident person. I could never imagine being that-or that we would be as good of friends as we are now. Lots of years have passed since then. We survived middle school, band trips, drivers ed, high school, her moving away to college then coming back, me dating stupid men, getting pregnant at 19 and lots of other stuff. Even when we weren’t speaking daily, I knew she would always be a friend.

When the Gabster got engaged, it was done perfectly for her. The Brown Guy arranged for a really large chunk of family and friends to meet at the Seattle Center in front of the fountains. He works down there so it was the perfect cover. He told her they needed to pick up the tickets to the fair from his work. She thought nothing of it. All of us-about 30 people-hid in a stairwell and waited for the sign. When they got to the fountain, The Brown Guy ushered us up. The shock on her face was amazing. She had no idea what was going on. He turns to her and sweetly tells her, "I brought all our friends and family here so they can be present when I ask you to spend the rest of your life with me." He gets down on one knee and says, "Will you marry me?" and opens the box to her dream ring. It was a beautiful day and she was so happy-after she got over the fact that they weren't really going to the fair. He promised that there would be lots of years for them to go to the fairs. He has already starting making good on those promises.

Fast forward a year or so, and you have us know. I have been with her to bridal shows, trying on wedding dresses, all the frustration of not finding the right one, FINALLY finding the right one, ordering the dress and so much more. She was with me through a really ugly break-up which led to the beginning of my relationship with Doodle. He was friends with The Brown Guy and has been for 14 years.

Now as we are planning her wedding and talking about our relationships we also talk about the future. The issues that she has with The Brown Guy and all this wedding madness, and the issues I have with Doodle. We talk about kids. My decision that I am having no more. Hers that she is now required to have the girl I didn’t get. As we are talking about all this, both of us can’t help but think, ‘When did we grow up?’ ‘How did this happen?’. It seems like just yesterday we were talking about our stupid band hats and all the cool stuff we could do when we finally got our licenses. Now we are talking about being married and having/not having babies? It’s all so serious. If you would have asked me a year or two ago, I would have said I wanted to go back to when we were kids. Now I don’t really think that is the case. I kinda like this adult thing (shh, don’t tell my mother). I like being responsible, and making decisions for me, and best of all having someone to really stand by me on those decisions. People who choose to love me, not ones who have to. Lucky for me I have that in the Gabster, Fred, and Doodle.

Kids

2006-06-07T07:14:00.000-07:00

When I though about being a parent, I never even considered it would be like this. Throughout the whole 9 months of hell (pregnancy-we do not belong together) I could not wait for it to be over. I wanted to see my child. As I casually once mentioned, my biggest pregnancy fear was that I would have an ugly baby. One of those babies who always got the "awwww" from others but you could see the pained look on their face. I was positive that would be my child. Luckily, I was wrong. The kid is beyond adorable.

With the cuteness comes a price. The kid regularly makes me insane. He doesn't eat vegetables-actually starts each statement involving food with "no vegetables, right?". He never stops talking. And I actually mean never. Like even in his sleep he talks. He has way too many questions, has absolutely no boundaries or censor button on his brain. He asks questions like, "why does your mommy love another man?" with the daddy sitting right there. It makes dating a challenge.

But then we have days like yesterday. It was the kids first swimming lesson. When we got there, he was not in any way interested in getting in the water. Actually had the begginings of a fit. I tried prodding him in and then decided the best thing for me to do would be to leave him with the instructor. It is her job to deal with kids like him, right? I went into the office of the pool and took care of the payment. When I got back to the pool area 5 minutes later, he was already chatting the ear off the instructor and had made friends with the two other kids in class-splashes and giggles galore.

He was having so much fun. He was getting much more confident around the water. The teacher had them practice putting their heads underwater. He did it like a champ. I don't know what got into him after that, but he got up some courage to try taking his feet off the ground and swimming under the water. The kid is a fish. He had no problems-he was actually swimming! He pops his head up from under the water and has the biggest grin. You could see how proud of himself he was. He excitedly has the teacher watch. Then one of the kids. Then the other kid. The he yells at me, "Mom!! Watch this!!" and does it again. He comes up again-still with the big smile-and gives me a thumbs up. I completely melted. I also had to contain myself from turning to any stranger who would listen and telling them that was my kid.

They tell you this will happen when you become a parent but I always though that was a lie just like the one they tell you about pregnancy being a magical experience. It's your kid so you have to love them right? The difference here is loving this child is not a have-to experience. Days like these it's a want-to experience and helpless-not-to experience. I have no control over loving this kid. And I am fine with that.

Yes, I am dumb

2006-05-31T06:41:00.000-07:00

I am currently sitting at my desk in a halter shirt (so not even close to professional yet I don't really care) trying not to bawl as my shoulders are literally on fire. I needed sunblock. I even had it in my car. But do I put it on? Nope. Do I pay the price? Yup.

My thought process was, well, we would only be out a couple of hours. And it's not like it's REALLY that hot outside. So I will get a little burned, no big deal. Um, I'm dumb. Big. Freakin. Deal. What's even worst is I knew that it would happen (just like this). But without fail, once a year, I get really burned. Then I learn my lesson. I'm done. I don't tan, so I might as well stay pale.

Then there is the dreaded sleep problem. Can't sleep on my back-the back is burned. Can't sleep on my stomach-my arms need to be curled under me for that to work. Burnt arms=bad idea. Can't sleep on my sides-damn shoulders are burnt. And then have man whom I absolutely love snoring away (I think in supersonic volume) like there is nothing wrong. Hi! Something wrong! Dumb girlfriend is not sleeping! Then just BARELY contain myself from pushing him off the bed-although I may have gently punched him a couple of times. Hey! He was sleeping! I wasn't.

So yearly lesson learned-SPF 500 for George.

Only me...

2006-05-23T05:50:00.000-07:00

Saturday was the night of Doodle's parent's 40th Anniversary party. It was great to be around so many happy people and see so many longstanding couples. All of the them had been friends for years, went to school together, and were all pretty far into their 60's. One of the girls had been friends with Doodle's mom since they were 2 months old. And one of the guys at the party had been the best man at their wedding 40 years ago. Doodle's dad joked that he had also returned the favor-all three times. But as is my luck, even though I was supposed to know no one at this party, I wouldn't get off so easily.

I had been helping Doodle and his sister all morning prepare for the party. Cleaning up a little, getting the food all out and making sure everything was set up just so. The party was supposed to start around 4pm and sure enough, 4 hits and people slowly start coming in. There is probably about 6 guests at this time. I am standing next to the back door by Doodle's sister and this couple walks in.

Uh-oh. Here it is. The moment I was waiting to happen. I knew someone. I look at Doodle's sister and say, "Holy Crap. I think that it my 6th grade teacher.". This was definitely not the environment I would expect to see an old teacher. Only 20 people were invited! The sister looks at me and says, "is that a good thing?". I tell her at the time, I hated him. But it was one of those hate because he actually made you work things. She pushes me towards the other side of the room and tells me to go ask him.

I stand next to Doodle at the window, offer to get the teacher a drink, he asks for a beer. I go get one and bring it back to him. I tell Doodle I am pretty sure that is my 6th grade teacher. Being as he has never been a shy one, he also tells me to ask.

I give the teacher his beer and ask, "Did you teach at Southern Heights?". He looks at me strangely and says yes. I ask if his last name is Cox, he also says yes. I tell him you were my 6th grade teacher. The room goes silent, then everyone starts laughing hysterically. He takes his beer and says "great, now since I have an old student here, I guess I can't drink too much and dance on the tables right?". I tell him to feel free to dance all he wants-I won't tell anyone. Then he asks the dreaded question-was it a good thing that I was the teacher? I tell him honestly, at the time no. I hated that class because I actually had to work. And because he gave me my first "C". I didn't DO C's. I was an A-B student and he gave me a C. Then I tell him once I got into High School, I realized how much that class taught me. I never had any issues with English and even took extra college classes at the same time. And when we studied the midieval times, I didn't have to work too hard because I already knew the information. He says oh, that's good and goes on to enjoy the party. I go call my mother.

The rest of the evening continues without incident. No other teacher sightings. Or anyone else I knew for that matter. And I got a completely different image of this teacher to take with me. Over the last couple of years, when those radio contests and such come up saying to nominate the best teacher, this one and one other were the only ones I could ever remember that had an impact in my life. I always thought he was extremely scary. Now I knew he really wasn't. He really did just want what was best for all of his students. And he wasn't just a teacher-he was a husband. He was married to another school teacher. They had been married for over 27 years. She was the friend of Doodle's mom at 2 months old. They were still affectionate with each other. He still rubbed her back as they were speaking, just a subconscious gesture. And he had a sense of humor. But he still looked just like Mr. Burns off the Simpsons.

My Mother's Day

2006-05-12T06:49:00.001-07:00

The first memory I have of my childhood was when I was 5. We all lived in the "big white house". And by all, I mean lots of our family. 1 aunt, 1 uncle + wife, 1 other child uncle, my mother, sister, and I. I loved that house. We had some great times there. My aunts and I would watch Care Bears together, and when there was thunderstorms and lightning, they would make us less scared by saying that it was just God flipping the lights on and off. We would flip our lightswitches off and on with him. And the thunder was just God playing the drums. We would play our own imaginary drums. That house was where I learned to tie my shoes using some wierd shoe/foot thing with red shoelaces.

When I was 7, my mom told me we were moving. I was so angry. My friends were by that big white house. I was a quiet child and didn't make friends easily. My aunts were there. My family was there. I didn't understand why we had to leave. My mom tried the best she could to explain that she got a job (we were on public assistance before then) and this really wasn't an opportunity she couldn't pass on. It would be better for us. I didn't believe a word she was saying.

As usual, she was right. The neighbors in our new house had kids-even a daughter-who became my best friend. We outgrew each other after awhile but it was nice to always have someone around. My mom worked hard. I know that everything she did, every promotion or class she took, she did for us. As the years passed, my mother and I got closer. I could often be found-even as a teenager-sitting next to my mother with my head on her shoulder. If I had a bad day, I would talk with her about it. If my friends and I were fighting, my mom could be the rational one and remind me to think of their feelings before I said anything.

On my first mothers day, I was 19. I was 7 months pregnant, broken up with my child's father, and living with my mother. This was not the ideal situation for me at all. I was stubborn and independant. I had been taking care of myself for a whole whoppin' year by myself. Me moving back in with her was taking a step in the wrong direction. This was not how my life was supposed to be. I was supposed to be a normal 19 year old kid. Not a pregnant one who couldn't even shave her legs.

The impact of my decision to keep my son hadn't quite sunk in-not until Mother's Day. My mother gave me a gold heart pendant necklace with a woman holding her baby. When I was looking at it, something finally snapped in me. I was having a child. I would be his parent. I would be who he came to for reassurance. Or scraped knees. I would always be required to love the person inside me. I would WANT to love that person. That was such an overwhelming feeling. I wanted a do-over. My mom just stood by me doing whatever she could to make me a little less miserable-both physically and emotionally.

As the years passed since my son was born, I turned from parent to mommy. All those things I was afraid of, I transitioned into. I now have a loving, caring, affectionate, talkative, happy child. And every time he makes me a little crazy, I call my mom. I apologize for my behavior as a child and thank her for putting up with me. And everytime my son says "I love you", I know he can be okay with that because I taught him it's alright. And I could teach him that because my mother passed it onto me. It makes you a good person. Like my mommy.

Superhero vs. Barbie

2006-05-10T10:26:00.000-07:00

For some reason, my kid woke up yesterday convinced it was his birthday. He has learned the days of the week, they do calendar daily at school so he knows that the yesterday was the 9th, today is the 10th etc. So he woke up yesterday beyond excited.

Yesterday was the 9th! That meant it was his birthday! His birthday is on the 9th...of August.

Poor auntie/momma had to explain to him that yes, it was the 9th but it wasn't his birthday. His birthday was the 9th of August and it is only the 9th of May. They even had to go to the calendar. He is a visual kid. They drew a blue birthday cake with 6 candles-how could you tell that it was a birthday cake unless there was candles?-and wrote his name below it so everyone knew.

Apparently he continued on his plight to convince the world it was his birthday at school and had to go through the same dilema.

When it was time for dinner, we decided to have a picnic on the porch. The kid is crazy. He talked to me a little more about his birthday and then he tells the auntie/momma that he knows how to make his mommy laugh. He can make her laugh all the time. He says watch-then makes this face:

And I laugh.

He does some crazy dances, it gets cold and we go back inside. Then we revisit the birthday topic. I asked him how he felt about camping. In all seriousness, he tells me we can't go camping-there are bears at camping. I tell him not where we go camping. You know, the place where there is showers, toilets and lots of running water? That is my idea of camping.

While we talk some more about his birthday, we tell him we could even get those super soakers and we could squirt each other. He tells me he wants a superhero party, and his super soaker needs to have Superheroes on it. Mine gets to be Barbie.

Okay, can we visit this here? When did my child get so boy/girl identified that he gets to have the fun superheroes and I get Barbie. BARBIE?????? I don't want to be Barbie! I want to be able to kick ass, not pose well in heels. Okay, the hair playing is fun but I will not wear the heels. I asked if I could be Superwoman or something. He tells me nope, it has to be Barbie. Then he gets all pushy and demanding telling me it is his birthday and he can have whatever he wants. I tell him that I am paying for his birthday so he doesn't get to be pushy. People who are pushy-they get nothing.

I tell this to Doodle. He says, "But you are pushy and just like that when it comes to your birthday". I have no comment.

The Question of the Week

2006-05-09T05:54:00.000-07:00

I have gotten this question twice this week. Not really a bad thing, just unusual. Doodle asked, as did Adorable Gay Friend.

The Question: Do you know your father?

The answer: No. I have never met him.

I didn't ask many questions about him because I always thought that it would hurt my mother. She has always been both parents so there was never really a need. And I tried to act like there wasn't really a want either. But curiosity is a strange thing that you sometimes don't have control over.

When I was younger, I said to myself when I was 20, I would be "adult" enough to ask my mom for more information. I wouldn't make her do the search for me because that would be just wrong. Well, instead of finding my other parent at 20, I became a parent. I then told myself that I would just wait it out for a little while longer. I wanted to make sure I was in a really good place before I even made any attempts. You know be highly educated, have a good job (rocket scientist/doctor/teacher-really anything that sounded good), have my perfectly well mannered child, have my perfect husband and my perfect car. I was just not there yet and as soon as all this happened, I would try to find him.

As I was driving home yesterday I realized something-I already have all this. I have my perfect life.

I may not be book educated, but I am intelligent. I can help people. I am smart enough to know when people just want someone to listen-and I can do that. I have a good job. It may not be the most amazing job, but it is mine. I have earned this.

And my child may not be perfect to anyone else, but he is to me. HE teaches ME. I am a better person because of him.

The husband is still in the works but I am happy with my current situation.

And my car has a red door ding, a big dent in the hood and the service engine light is on. But I have worked for that car. I was the first one in my family to ever buy a brand new car.

I know that my mother made the right decision for us at the time. I love my mother and if I become even a quarter of the person she is, that will make me better than most. She has always put us first. She will forever be my best friend and the first person (okay, maybe the second) I call when I just need to vent about something. If I need a new perspective, she has taught me to recognize that and that it is okay to ask for help.

A lot of people think I had a rough life because I am from a "broken" home. I don't see it that way. There was nothing broken about my home. Or my family. I think I am lucky that I have one parent who gave me enough love to cover for the second instead of two parents that each loved me a little.

But I can't help but wonder. I come from a family of blondes. I am not blonde. All of my family has blue eyes. Mine are green. I just want to see where I came from. Even if it turns out to be wrong, or something I don't really want to know. I am at a point in my life where I can accept the outcome-whether it means that I have a father or that I don't.

A little sugar crazy

2006-05-08T06:01:00.000-07:00

I had an amazing weekend. And I learned a lot about myself, Doodle, and the relationship.

An entire weekend of just us (and a little of his brother and parents). I had been looking forward to it all week. No late night bowling, or freezing Mariners games, or crazy family get togethers. Just me and him. So. Very. Excited. I could barely contain myself.

On Friday, I am waiting around for the kid's dad so that I could get this weekend movin'. He actually shows up during the hour he said he would. And Doodle was already off work so I pack my stuff-including dirty laundry-and head over.

We start making dinner together. I love this part of our time together. Anyway, we finish making our Cinqo de Mayo feast and head outside to eat in the sunshine. When we were done, we head inside to watch some TV. He also busts out some ice cream he got just for me. Chocolate ice cream with fudge chunks, fudge ripple and peanut butter cups. Have I mentioned that I REALLY love him???

Saturday morning, he gets up and goes to the store to get some eggs. Of course he cooks me breakfast. When we are done, we get ready to go, tell his lazy ass brother we are headed to the parents house. The boys had to move some furniture-this had been planned most of the week.

We make a pit stop at a new Starbucks. I get a little tingle everytime I see a new one. He knows this so he plays along. Then we head up to the parents and what do we find? No brother. Very likely he fell back asleep. At first, Doodle wouldn't let me help but it is either gonna be me or his mom lifting furniture. And I'm not letting his mom move that big dresser.

3 hours later-after some manly moving and sawing, we finally leave. We get home, have lunch/dinner and he starts baking cookies. I go take a nap. Wake up a couple hours later and we watch the Strong Man competition. He wants to be like those guys some day. You know, the ones lifting 400lb rocks and bench pressing 1008 pounds. I told him that is fine as long as he doesn't get that wierd extra neck thing.

Sunday morning, he makes a quiche. I love him. Then we start looking through all his recipies and I find a couple I want to try for dinner. Since he is out of sugar, we go to the store and I buy the stuff for dinner and he gets the sugar. As we are in the store, I am reminded of how much fun he is. He starts aisle dancing. Comparable to Adorable Gay Friend's cube dancing. But in the grocery store. To Shania Twain. I start walking away, turning all red, when he catches up to me-still dancing-and gives me a hug from behind, telling me I am not getting away that easy. And that the aisle dancing is genetic-his mother does it too. We finish up and head back home.

Then comes the sugar. Not like the kind we bought. But the kind that sometimes makes me a little crazy. Like hysterical laughing for absolutely no reason. And some wierd twitchy foot thing. And me not capable of sitting still. Oh yeah, and I break national speeds records for talking super fast. I could not control myself. Then I had an epiphany.

I was going crazy. Not the commited kind of crazy, but totally and completely stir crazy. I spent an entire weekend with him alone and no contact with the outside world. None of my family, none of my friends, not even my mother. And as much as I love him and love being with him, I need more. I don't want to cut off my friends. I don't want to not have the insanity of my life. I want him to be a part of my insanity, not all of it. I can have both. This idea has never crossed my mind. It has always been the man, or the family/friends. Never both.

But with him, everything is different so it shouldn't be a shock that this is either. I mean, really, who could NOT love a man who aisle dances to Shania Twain. Even if it is a little strange.

And his other talent...the best ass kisser

2006-05-03T05:25:00.000-07:00

No, I am not talking about Doodle. Don't be dirty. My kid, he is good. He is beginning to even surpass the abilities I possesed as a child to instantly make all adults melt. I will never be immune to his charms. And I still have a lot of years left to deal with it.

Last night I bribed him to eat all his dinner as I had the night before. Yes, I am one of those parents. The bribe being desert which we rarely have. Last night's desert was a popsicle (but it was one of those kinds with fruit in it. Fruit is good right??). I have given him his popsicle-he picks out the green one which is supposed to be lime. He decides that it tastes like blueberries.

As he is eating his blueberry-lime popsicle, he says "I have the most bestest mom ever! Do you know who my favorite mom is? You have to guess..."

He then looks at me and says, "I will give you a hint. She works with you." I start listing off all of the chicks I work with, and some guys as he giggles away. He then comes behind me and says, "I will give you one more hint. I am pointing to her.". I look up and see his finger directly over the top of my head. How can you resist that?

He goes over the same thing with, "who is the bestest, most favoritist aunt?". Conclusion being the auntie mom.

And then to continue on says that he is gonna come to work with me and talk to my boss. And tell my boss she is the bestest most favorite boss ever.

Yes kid, would you like 5 more popsicles with that? Oh, you want the full sugar kind? Sure! And you want to dip them in more sugar too? Okay fine, just this once...

Yup, I suck. But atleast he hasn't learned to do the ass kissing BEFORE he gets what he wants. Then I will really be in trouble!

You man. Me woman. Rawr...

2006-04-28T08:04:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-25T05:47:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-24T05:50:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-07T06:23:00.000-07:00

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?

I am my mother. Please shoot me.

2006-03-31T07:21:00.000-08:00

So, all those things I thought before I was a mom? You know, the I'm never gonna do that to my kid, I'm never gonna say that, my kid won't have a dirty face or a snotty nose...

Oh, to be young and dilusional again.

I have officially become my mother. Last night we came home and had about 15 minutes to eat dinner before Karate. When dinner was done, I called him and had the aunt go get him, but he still didn't come out for dinner. By the time he did, there was about 10 minutes left til the start of class. I told him he could eat half his dinner, then he needed to get his uniform on so we could go. I washed his uniform so I even set out most of the parts with it. He finishes the half of dinner and I tell him to go get dressed. What does he do?

Jumps all over every piece of furniture in our living room til he get to the couch with his clothes. Then jumps on that one too.

He starts to get dressed, then whines that he can't tie it. I tell him that's fine, I will do it, he needs to put his pants on though. He finally does, then sits back down to keep eating. Tomato soup-not okay for eating in the uniform. I tell him to stop and get his belt-he now has two minutes. What comes next?

"Mooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmm, I can't find it!" in his most irritating whiney voice (a quality gleaned from me-the queen of all whiners). I tell him, "you wore it, it is your responsibility to keep track of it, I am not helping you. And if your room was clean you would already know where it is!".

Yeah, I went there.

So he "tries" to find it, can't, and I tell him that he can't go to karate now and if he would like to continue whining, he can go to his room. Otherwise if he is done whining, he can sit down and finish his dinner. Then clean his room. So he does, starts on his room and 10 seconds later comes out all excited, "mom, I found my belt". I told him that's nice, he should put it somewhere so it doesn't get lost for tomorrow. But still no karate.

I know, I am a mean mommy...but I felt guilty and gave him cake when he was done.

Baby steps, Okay? I am not well adjusted to not giving him what he wants.

Where do babies come from?

2006-03-30T05:58:00.000-08:00

Yes, that conversation almost happened last night. Somehow my kid mentions how babies come from the stomach and says he doesn't want to be cut open so he is never having a baby. I explained to him that he has nothing to worry about but avoid details.

I think he wanted details.

He then asks if I had to be cut to get him out of my stomach. I told him I didn't. He then asks, "well how did they fix your stomache after I came out then?". I stammer, uh, well, um...how bout you watch some cartoons?

See, the TV rot comes in handy for some things. I am so not ready for the baby talk. Maybe I can make his dad do it...

He has to be good for something right?

Skip this to avoid being nauseated

2006-03-28T10:07:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I can't help it. I am going to get all mushy-gooey-my life is great here for a minute. Or as long as it takes to read this. Maybe it's the face of a beautiful man singing at me (Aww, I love me some Keith Urban) that officially pushed me over the edge. Or maybe it's the fact that I really couldn't ask for anything more.

I have this great kid who talks to much. But he is mine. He kisses my head and gets me water when I am not feeling good. HE takes care of ME. I have always heard it is supposed to be the other way around. But this way is so much more rewarding because I made him like that. I taught him to be compassionate for people. That is an amazing skill that not many adults have, let alone 5 year olds. I love this boy so very much.

And guess what else? Doodle love me. And he says so a lot. Even sends me sappy little text messages and an almost drunk dial (which I not so secretly now listen to every night before bed). It makes me giddy to know that someone feels so much for me. I have never been as happy as I am right now. Yeah, I have no extra money. And my car is making funny noises (not too bad yet). Ooh, and I can't forget to mention the fact that I can't stick to a diet for the life of me even though I know I really need to. But you know what? Doodle loves me.

We had a non-fight on Saturday. And then it was done. He didn't hold it against me, or throw it back at me, or use it ruin the time that we did have together. We had an absolutely perfect day. It didn't require all the stuff we did but it was nice. I know he is proud to me, and will openly admit he likes to show me off. Being the trophy girl for the right man ain't so bad. I can't count how many times he told me I was beautiful. When I call, he answers the phone with "and how is my gorgeous girlfriend today?". I only saw him two days ago, have been texting him all morning, spoke to him last night but already miss him. I didn't know that could be possible. I have always been really stubborn with my emotions but with him, it simply isn't an option. He can see my every feeling without a word being said. I am not a very open person but with him, I don't have to be. He just knows.

So, this is why I love them like no one else. And that's okay. Because they love me back.

Reasons why being a mom DOESN'T suck

2006-03-20T05:42:00.000-08:00

So, my kid was very good to me this weekend-except for the constant talking thing. That sometimes gets old. But he was definitely in fine form in the entertainment department.

Here are some highlights of the things I actually caught inbetween the nonstop chatter:

-As we are sitting on the best chair ever, he crawls up into my lap, looks at me, and says "You're cute mom". Ahh, flattery will get you everywhere my boy.
-He is ASKING to do chores. He's just a helpful kinda guy. Sometimes.
-As we are cleaning my room (and he is the perfect size to climb under the bed. You just have to make sure you can still see a leg to get him outta there in case something starts to bite. That didn't happen. But it could have.) he says, "You are beautiful. See, I'm like a man. A man calls a girl beautiful. And since I am like a man, you have to call me handsome."
-And all the random, out of nowhere cheek kisses (after he checks to be sure no one is looking) and I love you's. Ya can't knock all the I love you's.
-He tells the Aunt "my mom needs to hurry up and marry Doodle so I can have a step-dad.". The kid really needs to make up his mind.

THINGS we did that make having a kid not suck:

-Went and saw Curious George (hehe, George). I kinda wanted to see it anyways but now I had an excuse (the kid). Aside-it was very cute. And all the Jack Johnson songs really made me want to dance through the theater. I refrained (barely).
-Had ice cream when we were done.
-Gave him a piggy back ride and just pretty much goofed around all the way to the car. The smile on that kids face made all the ridiculousness of my life not seem so bad.
-Went to the Fun Forest and watched some Irish dancing. Also watched this kid sucker a vendor into going outside and playing Gaelic football with him. If adult men had an ounce of the charm this kid has, no woman would be safe again.
-Went on some rides at the Fun Forest (and lived to tell about it even...). I haven't been on rides since I was around 12 years old. There is just no way to not laugh hysterically as you are going around in circles way too fast to Shakira songs. And the kid kept trying to scoot himself over regardless of how impossible that task was. And the Pirate Ship? My god, I think I am too old for that (but it was still fun). Do you know how high that thing goes? Looking straight down at some pavement just doesn't have the thrill it used to. And the kid sitting next to me again laughing hysterically alternating between saying "I'm scared" and "This is fun! Let's do it again!". But out of all the rides, the one that freaked me out the most was the ferris wheel. I just don't like when things like that make creaking noises.

So really, this weekend was great. And this mom thing ain't so bad either. I got to look through my son's eyes. I got to be a kid again. See how the sunshine makes things a little better. And how a piggy back ride can encite instant giggles. How cool the Irish dancing thing is. And to not worry about anything more serious than what is the next ride we are going to go on. Whether it is his challenges with school, whether work is not my favorite place to be or we are a little short on money, I have a little someone who will always love me exactly as I am. And he will always remember all the fun we had together. That I could give him that is more important than anything else I will ever do.

Cranky and Pissy

2006-03-15T13:09:00.000-08:00

I was supposed to write about something and my only thought was how cranky and pissy I am. People should be required to have an IQ-any at all-in order to purchase coffee. Or speak with me. Well, for everyone's sanity, them too. So people on my shit list include:

-Cheap bastards who are just there for the free coffee. No you can't get a tall latte, the paper says tall drip you moron. And it is FREE. Get over yourself.
-Select few in my office building. Nothing further will be said about that but they suck.
-People that clog up the toilets. Okay, so that was from yesterday but it still ticks me off.
-People that say for instead of so.
-Anyone with the name John. And I was actually thinking, really J names should just be avoided. Me and the other girls have all dated J's. That didn't work so well.
-The idiots who don't wipe off the steam wand. Just clean the damn things. Crusty milk is nasty and not something I want in my mocha.

Now for things that don't suck:
-Doodle. He lurves me. He said so. Hehe.

Ahhhh...

2006-03-10T10:56:00.000-08:00

I am just too giddy for words today. I can't focus on anything (it's a good thing there isn't much work to be done today). Doodle, he solidified all those gooey girl feelings I had. He came this morning to have coffee with me-and brought me flowers with a very sweet handwritten note.

Definitely keeping him around for awhile.

More action...now with talk!

2006-03-09T05:39:00.000-08:00

My biggest complaint about things with Doodle is that he doesn't say much. Not in the how was your day kind of stuff, but in the how we are feeling/what we are thinking kinda way. I had mentioned to him during our conversation how he doesn't say what he is thinking and he reminded me that maybe what he is doing shows a little more. Damn him for always being right.

But yesterday he turned into a talker! Seriously all the right things. He sent me text messages during the day and in one of them asked if I was okay since I only talked to him twice the day before. I told him I wasn't trying to get all mushy and didn't want to bug him. He replied back telling me that I wasn't bugging him, that he liked talking to me and he liked who I was. Then last night he told me that he gets cranky when he doesn't talk to me. From most guys, I would assume that was a line. But from him, since he only says what he thinks, I know he wasn't just saying that to make me happy. It had that effect anyways.

Then he picks on my about how he was gonna just move onto another coffee girl. But then he followed it up with "no, the only thing good that came out of *insert name of coffee company taking over the world* was you".

And while we were sitting there watching TV (American Idol was already waiting for me when I got there. He doesn't watch American Idol, but knows I do religiously. See-more action.), he just looked down at me and told me I was beautiful. I love hearing that from him. It means so much coming from him.

We talked about how maybe, as it was a little obvious from my past relationships, I move things along a little too quickly. Um, I just had that conversation earlier in the day with one of my girls...and I told him I agreed with him. That's why I was attempting to learn patience.

So really, yesterday was perfect as are most of my days since him. It seems like no matter what happens with my day, or my crazy child, he can somehow make it all a little better. It's scary having someone who barely knows you at all know you better than the people who have known you for years.

Patience...what is that?

2006-03-07T12:27:00.000-08:00

Um. I don't know that I fully grasp the meaning. That whole saying it idea, well it kinda happened in a roundabout-I-am-so-twelve kinda way. Meaning with a drunken text message. I even slurred while I was writing.

And the idea that I was okay with him not saying it...I lied. Who was I kidding? I am a girl and what do girls do best but overreact especially with something like this. We have been having ongoing subtle (or not so subtle) conversations about this since Thursday. We did the half asleep conversation, then the "did you really say that" conversation, then the drunken conversation, so obviously we needed more of a rational conversation. Or maybe I just like to talk.

{aside-I hate stupid people}

Anyways, so the rational conversation turned girly real quick. My kid spent the evening talking about my ex. Bad. Idea. And of course since Doodle thinks that is the most hilarious thing ever, he proceeds to give me shit all night. Sometimes I can handle it. Last night I couldn't. So I overreacted to his playfulness and we went to talk. I had never told him how bad the relationship with the nutjob was so I decided to let it all out. Tears and all. What a great way to spend the night, huh?

Then he reminds me why he is the perfect man saying all the right things. Validation is great and definitely worked to snap me out of it-a little. Then he asks me if that was all that was wrong. I mutter no and spew out that I am not liking this whole one sided feeling thing. It frankly just sucks ass. And again with all the right things.

He says he could say it since it is just words to him but that wouldn't be honest. I thank him and tell him I don't want him to say it unless he means it. Then he reminds me that actions should speak louder than words and clearly his actions are saying a lot about what he feels...just that he isn't quite all the way there yet. He tells me it's really hard to let someone in after what he has gone through. He reminds me about all the great things that he never did for the ex-wife like opening doors, talking to me on the phone even though he really doesn't like the phone, and the fact that he has never been comfortable in the same bed with anyone-even her. But he is with me. I guess that counts for something.

And he told me that even though he couldn't give me the words I wanted to hear, he could honestly say that he likes me and I am definitely wearing him down. And tomorrow when I call, he will still answer.

For now, I'll take it. And even try to freak out a little less. Maybe.

Trust.

2006-03-04T09:49:00.000-08:00

Trust is seeming to be a lot harder to do. And for once, it isn't me with the issue. I have been thinking that the more Doodle "jokes" about me getting back with any of my exes or similar assholes, the more likely it is that he isn't really joking. He talks about it too much for him to just be picking on me. And now I am positive he really believes that could happen.

I have thought he was holding back from me for awhile but it was expected. In the beginning, we discussed that he wasn't ready to even think about being married or having a serious relationship yet because of all the damage his ex-wife did to him. He is one of the rare people who made his commitment, stuck to it, and planned on doing so forever. She didn't understand that for forever to actually happen, she needed to be honest about things. Really important things. And he was put in a position to end the marriage. After that, women were evil and he (for good reason) has a hard time trusting women.

Now, 4 months into the relationship, he has reminded me that he wasn't planning on being in a serious relationship and now he has gone and done it. And the trust issues are starting to creep into our relationship.

I told him (and invited him but he has his kids) that my friend was having her birthday party weeks ago. The party is today so last night I warned him that it was very likely he would be getting a drunk dial call from me sometime this evening. I apologized in advance for anything I may say. I tend to get very mushy when I am drinking. He told me that was fine just not to do one thing or that would put him over the edge. I asked him what was that one thing. He said if I called him John (the name of multiple exes), that was it. I told him that wouldn't be happening as I absolute despise them and am pretty darn smitten with him. He didn't seem too convinced.

So now I think I may need to have a conversation with him about where I stand on this whole relationship thing and work a little harder at convincing him that I am completely content with my bad ass teddy bear of a boyfriend. I have never genuinely cared for someone this much in my life. With the exes, I had to work really hard to like them. With Doodle, I can't even pull off a glaring look without laughing because it just isn't natural for me to look at him that way. I guess this is the over emotional girl in me talking. And while I think it would make me feel better to tell him all this, I don't think it would have the same effect on him.

Talk is easy, like the vows his ex-wife took. It's all about action. And showing him I care this much will take time. I am VERY impatient but I will just keeping working on it. He is worth every single over emotional thought and the hours I spend thinking them. And they are really starting to add up...

Saying "it"

2006-03-03T07:56:00.000-08:00

So, I am a little confused by a conversation I may or may not have had last night. Between lack of sleep, a little vodka, and earlier girly thoughts I am not exactly sure if we had the feelings talk or if I dreamt it. The more that I think about it, I am pretty sure we actually had this talk.

I stayed with him last night since my kid went to his dad's house. We just had one of those perfect nights. When I got there, we sat in the kitchen and talked awhile. Just unwound after the day. I talked about my kid and his ability to turn a grown woman into a 5 year old, we talked about his kids and how they almost kicked his ass at bowling. We talked about this great new cup that we have at my work (his brother already got one), all the benefits of my job, just some really easy conversation. It was one of those moments when you just feel at home with a person. I have never had those moments before, even when I was living with either of my past exes . Then we went and watched some TV where I cuddled up to him and promptly fell asleep. When the show was over, he gently wakes me up and says, "dear, are you ready for bed?" and off we go.

While we were laying together he told me that it was very clear that I was having girly thoughts and he thought he knew what they were. I asked him to tell me what he knew. At first he said his thought was that I was sitting there thinking how great he was (which is true) and how he was just too nice and anytime now I would go back to my pattern of dating the world's biggest assholes. I told him that of course the first part was true but the second, unless he tells me to move along, I am stickin' around for awhile. I told him I also knew that that was not what he was really thinking.

Then I just kinda drifted off to sleep. Then I hear him say, "I know what you want to hear but I am just not ready for that.". I remember for a split second being a little hurt but then grateful that he acknowledged that he knows the way I feel, is not pushing it aside or freaked out by it, but just isn't completely ready to let go of himself. And I respect him for that.

Even if I was dreaming the whole conversation.

More sass, less chicken

2006-03-02T12:09:00.000-08:00

So, I got my hair did last week. Really great dark hair with thin blond streaks. I was a little traumatized when handing over my card but it was so very worth it. And now I, as well as the non-jerk (who will now be referred to as Doodle 'cause non-jerk doesn't sound very nice), have a whole new personality. Well, more like a redesign of the old personality.

New hair make me sassy. And a little too goofy. Like dancing in a bowling alley goofy and looking forward to the next time the opportunity presents itself. It gives me a back the confidence level that I forgot I had. You know, the one from way back in high school where I knew I was cute and told anyone who would listen. And it also brings out the best in Doodle.

One of my earliest complaints (and amazingly enough the only complaint I have had) is that he doesn't give many compliments. He is just not a talker by nature but a girl needs to now what the dealio is every once in awhile, ya feel me?

I eventually convinced myself that actions really did speak louder than words and he was definitely showing his interest. And not just in the really fun not g-rated way but by doing things like staying out late to go to opening night of Harry Potter (which he doesn't like), holding open doors, spending his day off helping me get a Christmas tree, and other disgustingly cute things that may make the non-girly types want to vomit a little.

Then I got my hair did and Doodle found his voice. I came to his house the night it was done and at first, all he could do was stare. Then comes the words. I lost count of how many times I was told I looked beautiful, sexy and lots of other great for the ego compliments. And even though it is now a week later, I am still hearing it. I love it. I am starting to feel more like the fun loving giddy girl and less like the bitter if I date one more asshole I will have to be relocated to a padded room girl.

Giddy girl is happy. And Doodle REALLY likes the sassy hair in braids. I'm just sayin'...

Hi-yaw!

2006-03-01T05:42:00.000-08:00

Last night, my kid got his first stripe in karate. Not the middle stripe that signifies a senior white belt, just a stripe that says he is getting it. I don't remember when I was more proud. Okay, so it was just the day before but that's getting off the subject.

Anyways, he really seems to like karate and so I am hoping this chills him down a bit. I am not ready for another parent/teacher conference. I should have my own parking space by now. And he is only in kindergarten...

Back to karate, I was hoping that something like this would help his lack of focus. So far, he still fidgets a lot but he looks forward to going to karate. And he doesn't act out when he knows if he gets in trouble again, he won't get to go. He listens to the instructor, uses his manners, and can get the actual concepts with a little extra help. The instructor also work really well with him. He obviously makes it known who is the boss around there but can still make things fun. My son laughs more now. Sports are definitely his niche. Besides, what kid wouldn't have fun kicking, running and screaming "hi-yaw!" at the top of their lungs?

I'm just glad that I finally found something he is really interested in. My hair is too cute to pull out strand by strand, which was about a day away from happening.

Starting over

2006-02-28T06:07:00.000-08:00

I initially had a blog about 4 months ago that was mostly about boys. Stupid ones and not so stupid ones. Well, that probably won't change. But I am hoping to add a little more variety into it this time. I just wanted somewhere to put all the wierd random things that run through my head. I will try to keep from getting excessively girly but lets face it, I'm a girl. That's my thing.

A little history about me-I have a 5 year old son. He visits his dad every other weekend. He absolutely cracks me up. He is all boy. I am still learning what exactly that means but may go a little crazy in the mean time. I would not be even close to the person I am now without him. And as insane as I sometimes feel, that person really isn't so bad.

I am dating a non-jerk. That is veering off my usual course of things. I am notorious for dating jerks. And Johns. No, not that kind. The ones that are really named John. And not short for Johnathon or anything. Just plain old John. I will never date another one again.

Back to the non-jerk, he is an absolutely amazing man. He remembers everything. And bakes cookies. He is a great father to his kids and wishes he could see them more. He is part of a dying class of man. You know, the kind that actually have class. Wherever this is going, I am not gonna stop it anytime soon.

Oh yeah, and I am told I have a Jerry Springer kind of life. I would like to prefer to say it is more like a Maury kind of life. Except that I know who my baby daddy is.

Sassy chickens

Just right

Getting Settled

A mommy moment

My Move

Progress

The Talk.

Ode to the Laughing Cow

Now that my kid is back...

Things I won't miss about this job...

Kids

My Advice: NEVER get a baby daddy

Back up Ladies...

Nice people make me happy

Commitment Phobic

He's a man

Rage

Hmmm.

And...Freakout...NOW!

Seriously?

Mondays. Blech.

Eager

Too much stuff..

Father's Day

Growing up

Kids

Yes, I am dumb

Only me...

My Mother's Day

Superhero vs. Barbie

The Question of the Week

A little sugar crazy

And his other talent...the best ass kisser

You man. Me woman. Rawr...

The assignment-a happy memory

Catty Chicks

My pretty car

I am my mother. Please shoot me.

Where do babies come from?

*Skip this to avoid being nauseated*

Reasons why being a mom DOESN'T suck

Cranky and Pissy

Ahhhh...

More action...now with talk!

Patience...what is that?

Trust.

Saying "it"

More sass, less chicken

Hi-yaw!

Starting over

Skip this to avoid being nauseated