Thursday, June 21, 2007


I hate packing, it sucks a huge one. When did I collect all this junk? So far, only the things that have "meaning" have been packed. I'm still looking around the room wondering how in the hell I got this much stuff. Maybe I can blame it on Andrew.....

Monday, June 18, 2007

Finally, A place to call our own

As most of you know, we now have a house. This week is the week where we pack and move. Steve has most of his packing done. I, on the other hand, have zilch, nada, zip, zero. In my defense, I have been staying with him and not here at my own house. But today, here I am, I've been home for almost 6 hours and not a damn box packed yet. I am the world's worst procrastinator.

After I finish screwing off on here, I'm going to go downstairs and pack up the kitchen. I was thinking if we have the kitchen and the bathroom ready, all the other stuff would fall into place. I, at least want one sanctuary ready before the chaos begins. I figure the bathroom is a good place to start. Because as everyone knows, the bathroom is your favorite place if you have a child, particularly if the bathroom has a lock! The kitchen is a necessity. My sister Jac is coming to help me clean, and put things into place.

In a week's time, for the first time in my life, I will be living with a man without the sanctity of marriage. Still not quite sure how I deep down honestly feel about it, but I know that things will work out. I finally took my father's advice (and permission) and am going to try the living together thing. But I am scared in a way. Not that Steve and I won't get along or anything of that nature. I guess I'm scared that I will not live up to his expectations. I'm scared my kid will try to run him off (that is a battle he won't win). Hell, I'm even afraid our cats will never learn to get along (a weekend together proved my cat is a wuss). I'm sure, after a few nights of all of us under one roof, all of these fears will not only be unfounded, but also prove to be down right silly. I, for one, am certainly hoping so.

So, I suppose it's time I stop sitting around here wondering what things will be like and time to go make it happen.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

I'd do you

Ok, this is for Jacob, since he was so nice and played along, I'll play too. Lemme know if you want me to attempt this. I won't hold you to the reposting in your own blog...unless you are Steve

1. I'll respond with something random about you.

2. I'll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.

3. I'll pick a flavor of Jello to wrestle with you in.

4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me.

5. I'll tell you my first memory of you.

6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.

7. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.

8. If I do this for you, you must post this in your own blog

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Wrapped Around Her Finger

Andrew and I went to meet Madelyn. She already has him wrapped around her tiny fingers. He got hold of that baby and wouldn't give her up. She has light red hair with blond mixed in. She has blond eyelashes and eyebrows. She's simply beautiful. Her name suits her. My Nannie always told me that Dale and I would make beautiful babies. Well, Dale and Tysone made one beautiful little girl. So here she is, along with her proud brother, Mama and Daddy.

Dale, Andrew and Madelyn
Dale, Madelyn and Tysone
Not sure if this will work, but here is a video of Andrew holding her.

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

She's Here!

Madelyn Marie made her debut at 2:02 p.m. She weighs in at 6 lbs and 10 oz
Dale had no idea how long she was, but he did know she had brownish red hair.

I'm jealous....a 6 hour labor and pushing for 10 minutes. I'm really happy for them and I'm sure Andrew will make a great big brother. I can't wait to see them together. I'll post pictures when I can.

The stork is making a pit stop!!

HA! Gotcha on that one, didn't I?

As of 6:20 a.m. this morning, we have a baby on the way. Ok, well, let me clarify that. My ex husband (the 1st one, not to confuse anyone) and his wife have one coming. Her water broke, they called me and off to the hospital they went. So, as of a few minutes ago, she is 2 cm dilated and getting situated in a room. Dale on the other hand is downstairs in the cafeteria eating breakfast. I told him at least he didn't eat in front of her like he did me.

Seems sort of funny that one of the first people they call would be me, his ex wife. But for all Dale and my arguing, we do get along pretty good 9 days out of 10. But it's the 10th day that shit hits the fan. I'm really excited for them and for Andrew. I hope everything goes quickly for Tysone and the baby is healthy. I wouldn't deny that to anyone, even my ex. If she happens to have her before school gets out, I am going to surprise Andrew and go pick him up, so he can meet his new sister. We also have a bet as to whether Steve will hold the new baby. So honey, don't make me lose a bet to a 9 year old.

So, as the day progresses, I'll be doing updates. Everyone pray for the safe arrival of a new life.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

A photo blog

Dragging Up

Good Lord, so much has happened in 24 hours. My marital woes are over and now for the good news. We got the house! So, that means I need to start packing up my life from the last 5 years here. (I can't believe I've had this place that long) A whole new start. The old Ironworkers/Boilermakers call it "Dragging Up" because in the old days, they literally dragged up their ropes/tie offs and went on to the next place. How appropriate in my case. It seems like I was always dragging up and moving on to the next town and the next latest, greatest drama...

I'm done with the drama and the dragging up. Hopefully, we will only make one or two more moves before we retire to some foreign country. Somehow I can see Steve sitting on the porch in a rocker yelling, "Get off my damn yard". And I have plans to become domesticated!

I am so happy; I am literally sitting here jumping up and down on the bed. You would think I had eaten some Twizzlers or something equally laden with Red Dye 40.

My days will now be filled with separating stuff into keep, throw away, burn and belongs to Johnny. Whew, who would have thought I'd be happy about moving? But I'm beyond happy...

Monday, June 4, 2007

The Means To An End

Kevin met with the lawyers this morning. I did not know until today. After a 21-day waiting period (even if I waive my right to an appeal), the MSA will be done. Every tie we have together will be cut and we go our separate ways.

I received 2 letters over the weekend. The first was pretty abrupt and to the point. The second one was a little easier to take but it still hurt to read some of the things he said. He brought up some valid points, some good memories and even wished Steve and I well.

I think what stunned me the most was the following:

"I reckon I'll go ahead and say this in case you don't visit. I wish you the best Amie, I really do. There will be times when I think about you and miss you. I'm positive that Steve, or someone, will make you very happy. Where as, I failed to do so. Soon you will have the chance at a really good future, so do yourself a favor and take full advantage of it! Take good care of yourself, you hear? No hard feelings, OK?"

Why do the words you always wanted and needed to hear, always come to late?

I'm hurt, sad, happy and guilty all at the same time.

This was the end of a 24 years friendship. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to tell him a lot of things that needed to be said. And now I never will. I don't know how I feel about it; happy in a way that he can't hurt me anymore and sad to know I really tried my damndest and failed. Sad because those words are not something I ever expected to hear from Kevin. Sad because he's not the Kevin I knew from so long ago. From age 9 until well into my adulthood, he was in my thoughts most of the day. Now, he's in my thoughts because I am trying to figure out a way to get him out of my life. It seems he has already accepted the fact we will never see each other again. I, on the other hand, apparently had not.

Steve says I'm going through stages, much like the ones people feel when going through the death of a loved one. I know it is true. The guilt comes from the fact that I am "mourning" a relationship that will never be again, when I should be focused on the one I'm in. I have been crying on and off all day, rereading the letters and wondering if I should go say goodbye face to face. Yet, in the same breath, I'm afraid to. He has nothing to hold over me now. He has signed the papers. It's done. There is no reason for him to emotionally fuck with me. I need to say goodbye, somehow. And I'm not sure a letter will do it.

I hate failing. I feel at my lowest point when I realize I failed to accomplish something. I believe I can honestly say the only part in life that I have never been able to conquer is love and relationships. But I have also heard that if you go into something with a negative attitude, it will fail. This time, I'm going to walk away knowing I gave it my all and it is not my fault that it did not work. And I'm walking into my relationship with Steve with the positive attitude that we can make it work. Finally, after all these years, I can say without hesitation the words "we can make it work", and that is a really good feeling. But before I do, I need to get rid of old demons or they will forever plague me. I don't want to bring any more baggage than I already am into this relationship.

I feel so guilty for even writing this. I feel like I am "wasting" emotions on someone who is not worth it. At this point, all I know is I'm emotionally drained when it comes to the Kevin saga. It's time to let it go. Finally, I am free of the emotional torture that was my life for so many years. So, why doesn't it feel good? Why am I not ecstatic? I wish I knew and I wish these feelings would go away.

Friday, June 1, 2007

Is my freak sign on again?

Ok, well, here's a two for one deal today. My IOIC friends will appreciate this blog probably more than most. They have heard of my excursions before.

I make a trip to the umm, toy store, yeah, that is what we will call it for modesty's sake. I went by myself, no sister, friends or mother this time. And dang it, I'm on a mission.

So, I'm standing there looking like a kid in a candy store, mentally making notes of things that look interesting. I sort of back up, in order to lean over to look at something on the bottom row, and I feel this thing on my butt. And to make it worse, it's vibrating, gyrating and in general making some pretty weird noises. I think I jumped and yelped at the same time. There was this girl standing there with this thing in her hand. She was putting new products on the shelf and this particular one had all the bells and whistles, so she took it out to look at it. I didn't think at the time that she meant to poke me with it. She then asks me if she could help me. I am thinking "not in this lifetime", but politely decline and hope and pray I can find what I want without assistance. Do you think that is gonna happen?? Of course not.

So I wander up to the front and she is standing there on the phone. I kinda look around and wait patiently and try not to appear as though I am not listening. But I was. And I wish I hadn't. Now at 33, I've seen, watched and participated in some strange things. But this had me flabbergasted. Remember, I can only hear one side of the conversation and it went something like this:
"sure, I can bring the numbing cream"
"the black and white panda one?"
"I thought you liked cats better"
Now, at this point, I'm ready to hi-tail it out the door. She says a few more things and gets off the phone. In her most cheery voice, she says "Would you like to come to a pet party tonight?"

Me? Huh? What is that? I'm confused. All I want is something my doctor suggested and here you are inviting me to some type of pet thing. I immediately decline, saying I have plans for the night, thank you anyway. I ask her if they have what I want, she goes directly to the shelf and hands it to me. She then proceeds to ask a million and one questions as to why I want it.

I thought my "freak magnet" neon sign was turned off last August.(My Mom swears I have a neon sign on my head that says I'm a freak magnet) I guess not. I'm still trying to figure it out. I kinda have an idea of what this party is, but am not 100% sure. My question is WHY?? And do I look like a person who would go to one of those?

If the answer is yes to the second question, I give up. I'm just gonna sell usage of my forehead for tattoos. I hear one chick got $10,000 for advertising. I sure hope those bulbs burn out soon.

Health Hazards of Being Me

Today I went for a CBC (complete blood count) I have a bacterial infection and cannot begin treatment until it is gone. My white cell count is still too high to try to place a Hickman and I am dehydrated. I got another shot in the ass and was sent on my way. I go back next Wednesday. I will be glad when I start my treatments because waiting is the worst part for me. I also will be really, really happy when I can get my tattoo finished; without a good white blood cell count that can't happen. Next thing you know they are going to tell me swimming is hazardous to my health too. Oh wait, they already did. Apparently, when swimming it reflects UV rays off the water and gives you a great appearance called a TAN. But in return you have the nasty side effect of cancer. I swear you can't do anything these days.

Everywhere you go these days, you hear about all the different health hazards. Most of them are self-explanatory. Some seem completely outrageous. Then there are hazardous to your health if you are close to me. I should come with some of those warnings, much like the ones they put on hair dryers and other electrical appliances. My reasoning is due to new nurses who haven't quite gotten the hang of patient care. Their intentions are well meaning, they just need to tweak it a little. The following is a short list of my warnings.

1. May cause uncontrolled fits of giggling.

~ After getting a shot today, the nurse was "rubbing" the injection site to distribute the medicine. After a minute or so, I asked if she was finished yet. When she asked "why?" I had to give her the bad news that she was rubbing the wrong spot. And a chick rubbing my butt did nothing for me, she sputtered and squeaked and quickly exited the room. This in turn caused my doctor to completely lose it and he also had to leave the room. I'm assuming to catch his breath from laughing so hard. Either that or he was afraid I was going to ask him to rub it.

2. Step away from the sleeping patient.

~After getting my blood taken, I went back to the room and waited. The lab can sometimes take up to an hour before getting results. I decided to take a nap. Yes, I can pretty much sleep anywhere. So I curled up on the examining table, took the paper pillow and got comfy. Next thing I know, I hear "please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, let go". Apparently, the nurse got a little too close for my comfort level; I grabbed her arm and proceeded to move her away. It's a shame I was asleep for all that, I would have liked to seen her face.

3. Don't tell a patient it will feel like a bee sting.

~So the nurse tells me the shot will feel like a bee sting. The hell it did. Felt like a damn cattle prod electrifying my butt. In turn, this will cause me to jump and pull away. It might be a good idea to check needle gage before inserting it into a patient's derriere.

4. After screwing up, don't ask to try again.

~Said nurse had already poked me with a large gage needle, made me bleed onto my clothing and had rubbed my butt much longer than needed. Then she wants to give me another shot? Ya know, the Bible says turn the other cheek, but come on, this was a bit of a stretch for me. I remember those days of screwing up as a young nurse, feeling like I would never get the hang of things and in general wondering if I had chosen the right path. But never did I inflict injury, and then ask if I could do it again. Even I had a little more sense than that.

Just when I think the ball is rolling, the damn thing goes flat. In a way, it scares me to think I have all these cells rapidly growing and nothing is being done about it. And for some reason in my head when I think of cancer, I picture mold on cheese. Now how disgusting is that? I suppose it is better than what I called Andrew when I was pregnant with him. He was a parasite. I mean, seriously think about it, a baby is only using you as their host. Then they cause a great amount of pain for 17 hours (I was lucky), then they bleed you dry for 18 years and possibly more if they go to college. Damnit he better pick me out a good nursing home for all my trouble! And I want to be on the same wing as the crazy people. At least I will have some sort of entertainment. Crazy people are fun to pick at. Alas, that is another blog. It is time to go get my medicine to ensure I don't become one of the crazies who rock and drool.