shhh, I'm hunting wabbits again

We took Andrew out over the weekend for his first time shooting a pistol. He seemed to really like it. He actually paid attention to what he was doing and he listened very well to Steve. Sadly, like his Mama, he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. We'll work on that later.

I took the pumpkin left over from Halloween and we all took turns trying to "carve" a new face for it.


So here are the pics.

My clone (with pics)

Last Thursday Andrew and I were pulling out of the parking lot of his school. He hands me a wadded up piece of paper. Below are the pictures. My son's first "love note", isn't that sweet? Today he informs me that he didn't want to hurt her feelings, but she was acting like an idiot, so he dumped her. Hmm, he's already following in my footsteps.

Over the weekend, he had to go get glasses. He's in the 4^th grade; same as I was when I got my first pair. Since he is active in sports, we are going to get him contacts in January. He also is getting ready to get his first set of braces. I swear it seems like everything happened over the weekend. My son grew up. ***sigh***

Anyway, here are the pictures. Thanks to everyone for being concerned about my almost, thank God it didn't happen car accident.

I could not deny this child even if I wanted too!!

Ways to relieve boredom

As most of you know, I've taken the last year off to be with Andrew. Then some other things came up and well, I'm still sitting on my hiney. Being house bound at times can be extremely boring. I suppose I could go out, but with the chemo, I can't stand the heat, am not allowed to be in the sun, etc., etc. So, I am limited to be a homebody. With Andrew now in 4th grade (hard to believe!!), I usually get my housework done and then get on the computer and putter around there. Having just broke my arm, however, does limit my time on here. Kinda hard to type when you have a monstrosity wrapped around your wrist and you have to "hunt and peck" to be able to type. I'm a home row kinda typer. (yes, hard to believe I failed high school typing)

I love to learn about new stuff and read. I found a website a few months ago and now I'm addicted to it. It's called Stumble Upon. To get the most out of it, you can install a toolbar and every time you hit "Stumble", it takes you to a new site. It's pretty cool and you can set your preferences to tailor it to your interests. So far, I have not found any spyware, adware or gotten anything strange from installing the toolbar. I haven't even gotten spam from joining. That is a huge plus for me.

The next one I discovered is called Video Jug. As the website says, it's "Life Explained. On film." It's got some really cool videos, some funny ones and most are educational. Today, I learned how to put a condom on a banana and how to look good naked. Hmm, things I probably will never use but are fun to watch anyway.

If you are a news freak like I am, there is always Fark. And if you like to read about the world of entertainment, there is always WWTDD. Also known as "What Would Tyler Durden Do". It's a satirical look at things in the entertainment world.

I know most of you have jobs (I envy you) , kids (I don't envy you, I have one for sale now), husbands (trying to get rid of one of those too) and wives (don't need one, thank you anyway) etc. so you don't have a lot of time for just wandering around the net. But for those of you who do like to wander, just thought I'd share some of my bookmarks.

My family are a pack of animals

As I sit here and watch Meerkat Manor, I realized just how lucky I am. If you haven't seen it, you should watch it. It is an adorable reality series about a family of Meerkats, named the Whiskers. They live in the Kalahari Desert and it seems if any sort of drama can come their way, it usually does.

One may wonder how I can compare my life to a pack of tiny creatures. Well, everyone knows my life has been packed full of one adventure after another. Full of lots of drama too. But that is not the part I am thinking of. The meerkats are a tight, close-knit family who watches after each other. As in, to the death, watch after each other. While thankfully I've never had to kill for a member of my family, I have no doubt in my mind that I would, without hesitation. And I know in return, they would do the same.

I'm sure you've heard the old adage about how it takes a village to raise a child. I am a firm believer in this statement. I often wonder how people raise more than one child. I am in amazement of any mother who has the balls to have more than one. I personally, could not handle having a second child. I used to ask my Mama, how did you do it? And her answer was always the same: you just do.

I was blessed with a lot of aunts and uncles, most biological, some not. We respected them as much as we respected our own parents. Come to think of it, we still do. What they said was law and we obeyed it, for fear of what would come should our parents find out we didn't. I have raised, with the help of Dale, my son to be the same way. And I have no problem whatsoever with a member of my family smacking him on the butt if he needs it. In the same breath, I have no problem whacking their kid either. If nothing else in this world I hope my child takes away from my being his mother, I hope it is to respect family.

As I said earlier, I am lucky in life. Sure, my health sucks a big one. But when it comes right down to it, I have a lot of family and friends who care about me and loves me unconditionally. In addition, I have a really special man who shares my world with me. He got a package deal with Andrew and I, but I also got a package deal with his family. I have come to love them as if they are my own. We may not see them as often as we would like, but when we do, we usually have a great time together.

For all my bitching and complaining, I have to say, I am truly blessed. I'm just glad I don't have to groom them like the meerkats do.

Kool-Aide Flavored Lunchmeat Anyone?

This is a bitch session, if you don't want to read complains, you may want to stop here.

You can either laugh or cry when things aren't going your way. But have you ever cried so much you started laughing? I have. And being the world's biggest snot producer, believe me when I say, it is not a pretty sight.

It started last night when I couldn't get to sleep. The new kitten has decided since I look nice and fluffy, she will use me as her personal pillow. As the upstairs is hot as Hades, I wasn't a happy camper. An 8/9 week old kitten does NOT know the word no. Finally dozing off, I woke to this horrible beeping sound. In my head, I was telling my sister to turn off her fucking alarm before it hit the wall. As I came awake, I realized I was alone and it was Steve's alarm. Smacking every button and turning every knob, I finally got the damn thing to shut up. I lay there, rubbing the sleep from my eyes when it hits me, a wave of nausea. I lie back down, smoke a cigarette and try to stifle the urge to hurl. I was successful.

I should have known when Steve came upstairs and complained about the upstairs needing cleaning and then the dog started barking that I was in for it. I pull on clothes and stumble downstairs. I have no idea at this point where Steve went, but I make it to the kitchen. My earlier attempt to keep last night's dinner was not so successful this time. Luckily, the kid was there to help me. I go into the living room and plop down, thinking I am going back to bed, I feel like shit barely warmed over. But no, it just wasn't going to happen today. Steve is frustrated and heads off to work, early. I sit there for a few minutes, check my email and smoke. After hearing it was going to be 93 today, I decide to get our little blow up pool cleaned up and refilled.

Thinking this was a good idea; I go to get the blower-upper thingy. I hear Andrew say, " That's just nasty Alyssa". Knowing, it takes a lot to make my kid's stomach turn, I knew I had better check things out. Alyssa had decided to follow in my footsteps and leave her breakfast on the carpet. Ya know, at least I made it to the trashcan. She could have had the decency to do it on the linoleum. I get that cleaned up and we finally head outside.

Standing outside at 8 a.m. getting sprayed "accidentally" was not helping my mood. After several smacks on the butt, Andrew gets my point and decides to behave. At this point, I'm thinking the day may just redeem itself. That is what I get for thinking. We go inside as the pool fills up. Throwing all our clothes in the dryer, I tell Andrew to decide what he wants to eat.

Andrew decides he wants bacon, eggs and toast for breakfast. Cool deal, I can handle that. I've never cooked eggs any other way than scrambled, but I'm sure I can do this. Yeah, well, if you don't like them fried hard, I'm not the person to cook breakfast for you. After 2 attempts I get the yoke, unpopped, into the frying pan. Feeling rather proud of myself, I get all of Andrew's food onto his plate. I told him to get something to drink and we will go watch t.v. until the pool is filled.

I then hear a thud, coming from the refrigerator. Knowing this is not a good sign, I look around and there is red Kool-Aide coming out of the refrigerator. As in, pouring out. And what is my dear son doing? Standing there with huge tears in his eyes. Somehow I manage to get a towel on the floor, but the Kool-Aide has already ran down the back of the fridge, into the drawers, pretty much drowning any food in paper containers. Luckily, we need to go to the grocery store anyway.

Our sink is screwed up. If you run water in one side, the other side starts bubbling back up. Knowing I could not clean the shelves in the kitchen, I have to carry everything into the bathroom, scrub it down, dry it and take it back. There was some unidentifiable lunchmeat, which now resides in the trashcan. I managed to salvage everything else.

I finally get it all cleaned up. I sit down to smoke a cigarette and look out the window. Guess what we forgot? The pool. There was enough water in the pool to let water run out on all 4 sides (and it was sloped downhill). The squirrels were on top of the clothesline pole; their little food haven had turned into a lake.

I guess it's a good thing we don't pay for water. All of this and it's only 9:19. I wonder what else the day has in store for me. I'm almost afraid to speculate. But at least I have a clean refrigerator and the grass has been watered. The rest will have to wait.

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.

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.

I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys-R-Us Kid

I stood there watching from about 100 ft away. I took a deep cleansing breathe from the crisp, sweet morning air. It was then I realized I had been holding my breath, afraid of what the day might bring for him, for me. He turned and looked back, not a care in the world; his biggest decision for today was whether or not to pack his lunch or eat at school. Reassured that I was there, he happily walked away. Suddenly, he stopped, turned and ran back into my arms. I kiss him on his forehead and tell him how much I love him, even if he aggravates me to no end. He said half sobbing and half laughing, "I hope you are there to watch me the rest of my life". Mimicking my own laugh, he's off again; ready to take on the day. Once again, I stand and watch as my only live child begins to take steps towards independence.

Leaning against the doorframe, I think about what he said. My biggest concern has always been the same, never wavering. I want to be there to watch my son grow, learn and make his own mistakes. I want my son to one day be a strong, independent man. Yet, at the same time, I want my son to always need his mother. I am sure in some fashion or another, he will. As far as I know, all mothers feel this way about their children.

These past 8 months have been a struggle for us. A new man coming into our lives, his beloved Jac going back to work, having to make sure every day he knows which house to come home to. The only man who he trusted enough to get close to, left with no explanation that he could comprehend. His father remarrying after 8 years of undivided attention, gone in a 20 minute ceremony. The news of being a big brother, not to the boy as he had hoped, but to a dreaded girl. After all, everyone knows girls can't play like boys can. And once she is old enough to play, he will be off doing his own thing. Throw in school, which he doesn't understand half the time, lots of homework that needs to be done before he can play baseball, or have fun with the neighbor kids. And the icing on his cake that is melting in 90-degree weather, his mother has something terrible called cancer. Not to forget that his aunt has it also.

Did I mention the kid doesn't have a care in the world? Ahhhh, to go back to the youthful days of small responsibilities. Coming home to find a note left on the table telling me my chores for the day. Hurrying to get them done before Little House on the Prairie came on at 4 p.m. Having the kitchen TV. all to myself, because my brothers and sister were not interested in "kid stuff". Playing outside on nice days, sitting on my rooftop, I was the queen of my universe; and no one ever told me different. The worst possible scenario in our household was my two older brothers getting into a fight and beating each other with cast iron skillets. (I was huddling in the doorway, screaming to the top of my lungs that I was going to tell on them)

When did the world of children become so complicated? Is it something of our doing or is it just the evolution of man? I want to go back to the days of someone telling me what to do; managing money for me and my worst enemy was the mosquito that would leave whelps on my skin. I want to go back to waking up in the morning and smelling fresh cinnamon biscuits cooking in the oven. I want to go back to the days when I thought boys were only good for putting worms on my hook. I want to go back to the days when my mother actually remembered my name. I want to go back to sitting in the living room with my Daddy watching Jeopardy and eating frosted flakes.

I look down at my sleeping son some nights and I wonder, what does he think about? What does he dream about? Does he know how much I love him? Will he ever be able to fully comprehend some of the decisions I have made in his best interest? Does he care? Will I ever be able to watch him grow into the man I know he can be?

I hope so. And when he thinks back on his childhood, I hope he remembers those carefree days of youth gone by and not the horrible memories of things we are going through now.

What do you say in a moment like this?

As I made my way home yesterday, my cell phone rang. It was Andrew. The conversation went something like this:
"Where are you?"
"Trying to make my way home, I'll call you when I get closer, I can't talk right now baby"
"Okay Mama, but I have a question"
"Andrew, I really need to get off of here"
"But Mama, why would someone shoot all those kids? Will they do it at my school?"
"I don't know, baby, I just don't know"

Reba McIntire has a song that says "what do you say in a moment like this?, when you can't find the words to tell it like it is."
That is how I felt yesterday. I wasn't sure what to tell my son, other than (God willing) it won't happen at his school. I had to wait until we were at home to tell him what had happened. Of course, by this time, his little mind had been tainted by his PawPaw Wayne and kids on the bus. It's a shame that any parent should ever have to tell their child about such tragic events.

As most of you know, Steve lives in the area of VT. So when waking up yesterday for the 2nd time, I went into the living room and turned on the scanner and television. I sat there mesmerized and trying to grasp the enormity of it all. Here 24 hours later, I still have not. My phone started ringing, friends asking about other friends, family asking if I was ok and my brother asking if I had heard from a girl from church. It began to sink in.
No, it was not my alma mater, but I spent a fair amount of time on that campus, whether it was going to one of the frat's keg parties to working there for the Red Cross. Now, as I have "grown up", the campus is still a part of my life. Whether it is hanging out in the parking lot before a game or trying to find a duck pond, the campus has always seemed larger than life to me.
I realized a few minutes ago while reading through the list of victims, I had one of the professors. He was a foreigner. I only remember a little bit about him, he was a small man with a big voice. I remember the class more so than the professor, it was one of the hardest classes I ever took on the bachelor's level.

It pisses me off to no end when everyone wants to blame video games, movies or God forbid, music. Makes me wonder if these people who profile have children. Did it ever occur to these people with a professional opinion, that maybe if parents had smacked their kids on their ass when they were younger, things may have been different? I'm not saying this would have solved everything, but no one ever wants to take the blame for their child being something other than perfect.

So what do you say when your child asks about such things? Usually I can come up with some sort of explanation for his questions. Yesterday, I could not come up with any answer. I don't think there are answers for such questions.

I told you she created a monster

From my Mom:
Hey girl, I taught you better than that...... Are you really going to just stick your head in a hole and think the world will go away? Pout, have a pity party and then pull yourself up, stand tall, hold that head up and face the world. And if you really love him, don't let him "just" walk away... Don't you dare use this as an excuse to quit living. email me........ where's my "monster"?

After being rudely awaken by an elbow to my side and being told there wasn't enough room to work on the airbags, I finally decided to get up. And the above is what I find. At first, I thought, I'm not doing that. And then I realized, she's right, I am hiding. I haven't called any of my friends, I haven't been home in a week and in general, I've been a turd.

To put things mildly, I've had a rough week. Jealously that escalated to a fight was the beginning. Got that cleared up. And to answer not only her, but everyone else, I do love him. It is hard to describe. It's not a deep, needy, obsessive, "I need to take care of you" love like it was with Kevin. It's not the "get me out of here, well, I'll stay with you because you are the father of my kid" love as it was with Dale. And it's not the warped whatever you want to call it relationship I had with Tim. And as I told Andrew, we don't count Joseph, he was, simply put, a mistake that I barely remember.
Whatever it is that Steve and I have is not clouded with delusions of changing someone, fixing them to suit you or molding yourself for them. I really, truly and honestly believe that for the first time in my life, I am in love. And no, he did not walk away. And neither did I. We walked towards each other and sat down like adults and talked it out.

To make things so much more fun, my body is showing its ass, as my Mama would say. It has decided to throw a few kidney stones my way. And to top it all off, I have surgery in two weeks. Surgery that will once again change my life. I'm not looking forward to it, but it is an evil that must be dealt with. I am terrified to no end. I do not understand why I keep having reoccurances. But it's not my place to question, I am just kinda dealing with it. Ok, let's be completely honest, I'm avoiding thinking about it. As Steve and I decided the other day, I have too many irons in the fire. (one is about to be removed, I graduate in less than a month!!)

So, to all my dear friends who over the last few days called and wrote, I apologize for not being my chipper self. A special heads up to Gary and Janie. Immediately, they knew something was up, more so than my usual drama. As for Heather and Nikki, I am blessed to have been taken in by your family. I thank you all for taking the time to care. I'm very lucky for each and every one of you. And as always, thanks Mom, for giving me the reality check that I really needed.

So, with that being said, I'm going to go check on Steve and his dreams of working on airbags. I seriously hope it didn't blow up on him.

My kid beat up your honor roll student.

Today was the first day of practice. My son is now officially in the minor league. Woo Hoo. I'm very proud of him, he remembered almost everything from the last 4 years, with one exception: pointing the ball. I have tried and tried to teach this kid to aim for someone's chest. Honestly, I don't think he hit the broad side of a barn. Needless to say, I don't think he'll be the pitcher. Which is cool by me, I like watching him chase after some of those foul balls. He likes being hind catcher, it keeps his attention. Which is a good thing because it wasn't until last year that I convinced him to stand up during the game and not sit and pick the dandelions.

My SIL, Stacey, is finding out what life is like here in our quaint town. In other words, she's realizing that if your child doesn't play a sport or isn't cheering for the team, then your child is pretty much neglected in school. It's the popularity contest that we have all went through. It seems even now, at (almost) 33 years old, I'm still playing the popularity game.

I got to thinking about this popularity contest called LIFE. It seems everyone is always competing in some fashion or another. We all want to be the prettiest, the thinnest, the smartest or the most liked. And we pass that down to our kids. I didn't realize how much every one craves acceptance from other people until my son went to school. Every parent there was encouraging their child to "go make friends" or "be the smartest".

I will admit, I too am guilty of this. I want my son to be accepted and well liked. He has enough problems to overcome in school anyway. For example, he is already 5 ft 3 in. at 9 years old. He weighs approximately 165 lbs. That is off the charts for a 9 year old boy. I honestly believe the only thing that keeps him from being teased about it, is the other kids are afraid of him. (I did teach him not to take shit from anyone) Yet another example, he is in Special Education. He does not read well, nor does he comprehend what little he can read. Bam! 2 strikes against him already.

It's sad to think that I have pushed my son into thinking social acceptance is something he should strive for. I learned about 10 years ago, from my Mom, Lisa, not to give two shits about what people think about you. Who are they to you? Will what I'm doing right now make a difference in a week? A year? She taught me to stand up for myself and not to take any shit off of anyone. For the most part, I live by those standards. I am who I am. You either love me or you hate me, and I personally could give a rat's ass about either one.

How hypocritical is that? Somehow, I need to stress the value of liking yourself and who you are to my son. I have unintentionally diverted his attention away from himself to the popularity game. I need to rectify this and I need to do it quickly. However, I am at a complete and total loss as to go about correcting my mistake. I'm clueless on this one. I have a feeling that no matter what I say, he will always strive to please someone other than himself. And that, is a sad situation.

I was cursed

I remember hiding behind my mother's skirts, so to speak, sticking my tongue out at my brother, Sean. "Na Na Boo Boo, you're in trouble" and happily skipping along my merry way. Of course, I could always hear my mother tell him: "I hope one day you have kids just like you".

And I laughed.

Karma. I believe in it, wholeheartedly. And you know what? She came up and bitch slapped me. As you can imagine, Sean grew up and yes, had a child just like him. And guess what? I grew up and had a child just like him!! Guess that is what I get for laughing.

Wonder if it's too late to apologize for laughing at him getting his ass whipped? Will that change things? Somehow I doubt it.

I have decided to send my son to live with MY father. He doesn't know about this yet. (Neither the son, nor the father or my father for that matter). If I even so much as had the thought of sassing my mother, my Daddy would have smacked me down a rathole that I would have never been able to dig myself out of. So, I'm thinking, if old dogs can learn new tricks, my 9 year old can learn how to be respectful and keep his trap shut, like we were taught.

I'd leave this open for comments, but I'm afraid of the "I told you so's"...LOL. I'm off to eat the bottle of nerve pills prescribed to me.....

Random Updates

Just a quick update for everyone who has been sending me emails and such. I want to thank everyone. I'm doing really good (well, for me, lol).
Andrew stayed with us on Friday. Whew. I think he did surprisingly well. We were actually all in bed asleep before 10:30. And the two loves of my life slept like babies all night and of course, I was up and down, wondering if both of them were ok. (I think the snoring gave me an indication they were). We took Andrew to Texas Steakhouse on Friday, I think because he wanted the singing and brownie. I don't know who jumped higher, Steve or Andrew. So, my baby is now 9. I'm still wondering where the time went. Tammy keeps telling me it only gets "better" from here. Woo Hoo. And Mama says raising boys are easier. Yeahh, right. I'm still wondering about that one.

Friday I got some news that knocked me on my ass. A close friend of mine who I'm not ready to reveal yet, has lymphoma. This completely took me by surprise and has me scared, upset and pondering on my own life. I have always said when you think things are bad in your own life, look around, there is always someone who has it worse. Yes, our cancers are completely different, but it is still cancer no matter which way you look at it. Statistically, I'm in good shape. Depending on the type, Hodkin's or Non, she may or may not be. She was there for me when I went through this the first time. She was the first person I saw when I woke up from surgery, she held my hands and hair as I got sick from all the chemicals. Now it's my turn to help her. I can only hope and pray that I can be as good a friend to her as she is to me. So if you are a spiritual, religious person, please say a prayer, light a candle, whatever it is you do, that she will get through this.

We had an "ice storm". So, of course, Steve and I had to make the required trip to the store to get bread. A quarter of an inch of ice here in Virginia completely stops everything. But I think the roads are going to be ok this morning, I hope so anyway. Those damn snow plows went by often enough last night. I just can't wait to see my Miata ice skate into my parking lot. Weeeeeee.

School started again last week. Blech. But the way I see it, it's two easy classes and I'm done. One of my instructors reminds me of the guy from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. He has selected his victim to pick at and this poor kid is clueless. At least it's not me. And, there are quite a few students older than me. At least there wasn't any students who asked me for the syllabus this time (thinking I'm the professor), so it's all good. I don't feel so ancient this go round. Even though Andrew asked me if dinosaurs were around when I was little (grrrr).

I think that is all from here, those horrible, get louder as you try to ignore them alarm clocks are going off, so I'm gonna go poke Steve.

Part II of the Report Card Saga

As expected, nothing is going to happen to my son. To me, this is the equivalent of saying "that's ok, you can continue on this path". What type of example is this setting for him? If he thinks he can get away with not putting forth his best effort now, what will he be like in 10 years? If he would put 1/2 the effort into his school work as he puts into his Nintendo, X-Box and Playstation, he would be doing great.
I do have to say that Tysone was on my side. She took away his games. But Dale just seemed to think it was ok and we would wait until mid term reports to come out and see how things are going. Then the best line of all came "well, I didn't like school, it only makes sense that he wouldn't either"...like I said earlier, stupidity at its finest.
I'm so frustrated. I feel as though I have NO say in this at all. Yet one more reason why he should be in one home and not jumping from house to house. It's out of my hands now. I guess we shall see what happens.
On the upside, he asked me when Steve & I are getting married (kinda jumping to conclusions there isn't he?) He has decided he really likes Steve and wants him to be part of our lives. I asked what he thought about me moving, and he said as long as he gets a bedroom, he won't mind. So, I'm in a much, much better mood now. I have my son's blessing with my new relationship and that makes everything seem better somehow.

The words f*ck it come to mind

Okay, well, I'm grumpy this evening. Thanks to the dumb ass I call my ex husband. Rarely, thank God, do I get grumpy and stay that way for long. But damn, it seems like I'm truly surrounded by idiots. Not only did I have to spend the day with my mother (whole other blog), but now I have to put up with idiocy at its finest. And those of you who know me, know I despise stupidity.

Got my kid's report card this evening and it was bad. Not only did my kid lie to me about what grades he made, the dumb ass (ex husband, not kid) doesn't want to do anything about the grades he made. He is on his way over here to "discuss" things. Ground the kid, make him do extra work in the evening, maybe make your wife who is a TEACHER help him. Do fucking something, don't just fricken' pretend it will get better. I was told "just because you are an over achiever doesn't mean you should push it off on your son" WTF? Expecting good (at least passing grades) makes me a bad person?

I am trying to decide on a punishment for the lying. I am also trying to hold my temper right now because I'm getting ready to go off on the next poor sap who happens to say something to me in the wrong tone. Damn it, I hate feeling like this. Andrew informs me the moon is full. He has decided that is what is wrong with me. I asked him if maybe, just maybe it could be the fact that he is doing so poorly in school and lying to me could be the reason? With a resounding "No" and an eye roll, he walks off to await his fate.

I say "fuck it", I'm gonna have this fight and go to bed. I've had my limit and someone else's too. Tomorrow will be a better day, so I have been told. God, I hope so.

I should have a warning label

Tomorrow is Andrew's school Christmas play. Oh excuse me, Winter Holiday Play. Anyway, Steve has agreed to go (woo hoo). But first he's gonna come over & I'm gonna fix some supper. Yup. He's gonna eat MY cooking. Thank God Richie has been wrapped up in his own life here lately to give him the "speech" on my cooking. Dale being the turd that he is laughed so hard he choked when he heard I was gonna cook. I swear, you burn water ONE time and you never hear the end of it. I have been craving tacos, so I'm gonna fix those. I mean, how can I mess that up? Mama then informs me that if I'm trying to "catch" him, maybe I should forewarn him of my nonexistant cooking skills. She then decides he's so skinny that he needs a good cook and maybe I should take some cooking classes or something? LMAO.

Ok, so I'm not freakin' Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart, but I can cook. I just choose not to, for the most part. I have this thing about cooking. I know it's supposed to work like this; but it irritates me to no end: everything gets done at once. So I'm trying to grab stuff out of the oven, turn stuff off, pull things off the burner so it doesn't burn, and then you gotta make sure it's all done and not over cooked. Then you are expected to eat it? Shit on all that. I'll stick to simple things or as I have done in the past, you cook, I'll clean. Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me.
So, I have already went to the grocery store and got everything, then told various people about it, they start freaking me out.

Ok, to end this seemingly boring, gotta get it out before I explode blog, go check out Steve's blog. Steve's Famous Or should it be infamous? hmmm...either way, I think I'll keep him. Wait, maybe I should wait to make sure he survives tomorrow night...LMAO.

All my ex's should live in Texas

This weekend was the weekend from Hell when it came to the EX's. I think they should be outlawed. Literally. If you don't have a child with them, they should just *poof* disappear. Well, not mine. One likes to torture me with words, the other one likes to beg. The one who tortures me and calls me a "bad mother" decided it was a good idea to harass me last night. I think it's very impolite to call a person who can NEVER have children again and tell them your new wife is pregnant, especially when the 10 year anniversary of your children's death is in less than a week. Maybe it's just me? Dunno, just kinda think it's mean and spiteful. But I know my son will be a great big brother and I do wish them good luck. Honestly, I really do. The other one, seeing as his only means of communication is writing, decided to write two letters. And of course the first one was begging me not to leave his ass (umm, hello, I'm not the one who is in prison for being a crack head???), and the second one was about my son. I won't go into that one. I got it taken care of.

On to "happier stuff", Thursday we went to my sisters for dinner. Jac, Mama & Terry did not chew Steve up and spit him out. I somehow fully expected them to rip him a new one with questions. I must say they were very polite. Hell, I only caught a few jabs from Terry. Mostly about cooking and me being an airhead. (Yes, I am a self-professed airhead) This morning, Mama told me that she liked Steve because he let her dog sit on his lap. As if he had a choice Anyway, that's kinda nice to know, because so far the two people my Mama has ever liked has been Dale and Tim.

The weekend was good. I have found that you don't come between a man and his computer Steve got to drive the car. And damnit, I was gonna get a picture of it and forgot. Jac was impressed. The last person I let drive it was my Daddy, and I wasn't around to see it. I only got us "lost" once and technically it wasn't lost, I knew the road we was on, I just went in the wrong direction. By the time we got back to his house, I was shivering.

Le got a job. She is going to be working in the kitchen at the Mission Home. Not around knives though. I'm so very proud of her. Damnit, I miss her. I told her the other day, if I thought I could get away with it, I would be gone tomorrow. I'd pack my stuff and go. I'd love to live out there with my Daddy for a while, but I'd really miss my Mama. And I have about a snowballs chance in hell of ever getting permission for Andrew to go with me. But he really, really needs to learn his heritage. There is so much that I can't teach him.
Speaking of Andrew, he's got a crush. The object of his affection is a little girl who he has gone to school with since kindergarten whose name is Brianna. She's a beautiful little girl. He went with me into the store, spotted her, his face went red, he started sputtering, and behind my back he went. I swear, now I know what they are talking about when they say "hiding behind Mama's skirts". I grilled him about it on the way to school and he kept telling me to be quiet. The whole time he denied it, but you could see his little face just light up. Steve told me not to mess it up for him. How could I, his Mama, mess this up for him? **Sigh** my baby is growing up. He'll be 9 in a little over 2 months.

I am going to wrap this up now; just wanted to update everyone on life in my world. At least the world has stopped spinning so fast and I can finally take a look at what is going on around me and enjoy it. About freakin' time. And right now, from where I stand, things are looking pretty good.

Assorted colors

This week is Red Ribbon Week at my son's school. For those who don't know what that is, it is a week to educate kids on how to stay away from drugs and pretty much what drugs are all about. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm all for drug education, especially considering what I have went through and what my ex put me through. However, I think they take things too far at times.
I smoke. Yes, it is one of my very few vices. I have never tried to quit. Other than the 4 pregnancies and when I was in the hospital, I have smoked for about 10 years. Sure, I smoked in intermediate school and high school, but I didn't really "smoke" I have no doubt I am addicted; however, I smoke because I like it. I even don't mind paying the taxes on the things. But, I digress.
All week, I have been told that I am doing drugs. That's right; they are teaching our children that nicotine is a bad drug. Yes, it is. However, I don't think the schools have the right to tell MY child to tell me in every other sentence to quit using drugs. It's about to drive me insane. Ok, off my soap box to another subject, this one much more lighthearted.
Each day during Red Ribbon Week, the kids do something different. For example, today is "Crazy Hair Day" and "Wear Something Orange". So, I get Andrew an orange t-shirt. My sister calls last night, she is on her way to my house, with the spray in hair color. You see this a lot around Halloween. I didn't think much about it at the time, believing it was for Andrew next week. Oh No. That is what I get for thinking. My dear sister had the brilliant idea to spray the dye in Andrew's hair. The dye just so happens to be orange. What she failed to tell us is it also has glitter in it. Being the "good mother" that I am, I become the guinea pig. In other words, let's see what it does to Mama's hair before we put it in Andrew's, just in case.
Now, I will admit, I dye my hair. Most of the time, just a basic flat black. Due to the lovely genes inherited by my father, I started getting grey at 24. The last time I dyed it, Gary and his daughter Ashley helped. We dyed it black, and then put the bold red highlights in it. The bold red didn't take anywhere but in the back of my head. That was over a month ago, so it is in need of having the roots done.
My child takes this orange spray dye and coats my hair with it. Right down to the roots. First it was in streaks. I could handle that. It even showed up. Kinda cute, funky look for me. Then, he decides let's put a little more in there. He ends up putting it on the un-dyed roots of my hair.
So, guess what folks? This spray on dye which is supposed to wash out with warm water DOES NOT wash out with warm water. I have 3 colors, orange, red and black. I look like the poster child for fruit loops. I have washed my hair 5 times in less than 12 hours. Not only that, but I also have a beautiful glitter all over. Literally, all over. Not only my hair, but my neck, my back, my face and on my arms.
Oh, the things we will do for our children. Know what? I think I'll go have a cigarette.

Maybe Not In His World, Words From My Son

My son has been rubbing his eyes furiously all morning. When asked if he was ok, he would just yawn and reply "you get me up too early for the weekend". Knowing he was up late, probably doing through sugar withdrawal, and just generally in a foul mood, I just walk off and finish breakfast. He follows me through the house, asking one of his endless questions. "whatcha gonna do today, Mama?" was the first, followed by so many questions, it would make a Spanish Inquisitor proud. I sigh, continue to answer until I am annoyed and shoo him out of the kitchen. As he is sitting eating breakfast, he asks "why don't you eat in the mornings?" I tell him, I am just not a morning person, too early to eat, etc. He continues on the "my Daddy says" kick so finally I tell him, "Well, baby, this is Mama's world, not Daddy's so things are different." Those huge eyes that mirror mine look back at me as he ponders on this.

Shortly thereafter, I am taking him to Grannie & Pop's and it is raining. My rag top is leaking somewhere on the driver's side next to the door, so I was battling drops of rain and trying to drive within the lines. As we pull up to the stop light, I look over and there is another Miata beside us. He has his rag top down, windows up, windshield wipers on, just a sight to see. I told Andrew "look at him, what an idiot, why would he have the top down, it's raining"...and the response I got was priceless. "Maybe not in his world Mama"...

Only my son could make a have an outlook on life like that. So, I guess the next time there is an idiot driving in the rain, I'll have to remember, just because it's raining in my world, it may not be in theirs...