is it fight LIKE the devil? or fight the devil?

this won’t be funny. i’m sorry, if you were looking for funny, come back in a while. maybe a long while. it may take quite some time to get back to funny.

this year is shit. I’m just going to throw that out there. don’t know too many people who will disagree at this point. it’s been shit for everyone, I’m not some random odd sad exclusive case. it’s been a fucked up shitty munchkin ass sucking year. I’ve yelled at the universe a few times and told it to back the fuck off. it did for a moment. little did I know that moment was just the back swing to a bigger hit. I said before that this year sucked but it hadn’t hit home yet. just around and close by. this one hit home. this one hit the motherfucking core. this one hit dead fucking center in the middle of it all. this one hurt.

on october 23, sometime between 130 and 415 in the afternoon, my little brother ended his life. he was 27. had actually just turned 27 in september. he just…you know…it was too much for him. there was so much going on. and it’s sad to learn, but the demons I’ve been battling forever are the same ones that plagued him. oh how I wish I had known. I don’t know if there’s comfort or more misery in knowing someone shares the same battles you do. you hurt for them because you know the pain, but at the same time you hurt less because you can share the pain. I don’t know what being a survivor of suicide is supposed to be like- i was given a few handouts that I read over, and it sounds like I’m not doing it right. but I don’t know if there is a right in this situation. I’m not angry. I don’t have any unanswered question. I don’t think it was selfish. I don’t think it was stupid. I don’t think it was some fucking mental illness or problem. he was just hurting. a broken spirit. I get it. from beginning to end, I get it. does it make it any easier? fuck no. do I wish he had found another path? hell yes. but do I get it? damn straight I do. I understand. I can see the path he walked. I can think the thoughts I’m sure he thought. because I’ve been there. I’ve been in that dark corner staring down that same fucking demon. I’ll never know for sure, but I think I can see. and it hurts. because I’ve felt the same things. I’ve written the same things he wrote in his goodbye letter. and that scares me. if we’ve had the same thoughts and walked the same path. and he lost the battle…what does that mean for me? I don’t want to lose this battle. but I can see how easily it can be lost. he wrote in his letter that he was broken and didn’t want to be fixed. I know that feeling. holy fucking pain and darkness do I know that feeling. and your soul hurts. and you feel so broken. and you don’t want to bother people trying to fix you because you don’t feel you can be fixed. and you feel like you’re wasting their time and your time. and you feel like such a burden. and you don’t want everyone worrying about you or stressing about you. but they do, mostly because they don’t understand and just want to make it go away. but those feelings can’t just go away. and there’s those people telling you to just get over it- like it’s a choice you’re making to feel that way and if you would just snap out of it- like it’s your own fault and your own decision to be stuck in that dark endless cave. yes, it’s so enjoyable, I chose to be there. fuck off. obviously spoken from someone who has never been there and desperately clawed to fight their way out only to end up deeper than they started. and then you feel like even more of a failure because you’re letting them down…and the spiral continues. it’s evil. it’s dark. and it gets a hold of you in ways that can’t be explained. and I think he was like me…you put on this face and people may know you’re having a bad day but they have no idea how fucking bad it really is. I’m not good at playing my cards close. I have a feeling and you can see it on my face. steve was a better card player than me. he held it close. obviously no one knew how deep this went for him.
but even though I get it, even though I understand the choice, it doesn’t make it any easier. and the strangest things are so hard for me right now. I’m so jealous and angry at his friends. growing up steve and I had basically no relationship. I would go to our dad’s house for two weeks during the summer, the occasional spring break, very few holidays or any other event (if any…can’t actually remember any other times I went there). into our adult lives I wasn’t there…he lived with my oldest brother for a while and I went to see them once. I wasn’t there when he joined the army. I got to welcome him home from the war later though. I wasn’t there when he graduated dive school. I wasn’t there for holidays. for the first time I was able to see where he lived over in seattle, the beach that he loved, his home, but it was only after his death to clean out his things. I see his friends, his family, they have all these memories and steve stories. and I don’t. and I’m jealous. I’m angry for the stolen years when we were kids. I’m angry at myself for not making it over to see him. I’m angry at my older brother for living closer and being able to go to all the football games and baseball games and lunches and events. I’m angry at his friends that got to see him and know him and love him. I’m jealous of all their memories. all their remembrances. all their pictures and stories and things to look back on. I see theses scraps and remnants and I connect to them in a way I can’t explain. but I wasn’t there for any of them. I don’t know what made him laugh in those pictures. I don’t know what was behind the rooster head or hugging the giant gumball machine or the skydiving adventure. and I’ll never know.
but now there’s this gigantic battle in my head. I see how much he loved life when he loved it. I see how happy he was when he was happy. and I want to be that way. he was a drifter, a wandering spirit, and I envy that. I’ve been so locked down with responsibility for so long. I envy being able to change jobs and move and spend days on the beach or out with friends or creating art work. I wish I could be that way. I wish I could leave this job and do something that I love, not just something that pays the bills. I wish I had the courage to just be myself all the time and do what I loved and not try to be what I’m expected to be or what my family is comfortable with me being. was he some kind of saint? no. was he perfect? no. I’m not trying to make him into some glowing being. he was in trouble, he was drifting, he had to be bailed out now and again. he rarely finished what he started. he didn’t always make the best decisions. but isn’t that what life is about? trying things out and finding what fits you? I envy that he was able to do that. I crave being able to do that.
and while I’m calling out demons…you have to call them all out. you have to face them all, or you can’t deal with them. so I’m going there. I’m going to say it, and I know before I say it how fucked up it is. I get it. but I have to say it because it’s rolling around in my head and I have to face it: I’m jealous that he got out. I’m jealous that he doesn’t have to fight any more. I’m jealous that he could go and not feel stuck here for someone or something. and YES…I know how fucked up that thought is. a big part of that is that I know the not being able to be fixed feeling. and that’s a lot to carry around. and he doesn’t have to worry about being fixed any more. he doesn’t have to be the broken one walking around letting his family down.
wow. that was hard to say. it’s hard to express how long that last paragraph took to type…just know this…two hours. yes. that small paragraph took two hours to write. but I said it. once you say it, it isn’t so scary. and it’s not as threatening. you can read it and see how fucked up it is and it makes everything less…whatever…
so. that’s where I’m at right now kids. I’m sorry if it’s sketchy and jumpy and doesn’t make sense. it doesn’t make sense to me either. I just had to get it out.

shhh....

well, after the insanity that was this summer, things have been oddly quiet. it's been nice. very nice. not much has happened at all. oh shit. now i'm terrified...something will happen and i'll have to kick my own ass for jinxing it which is hard to do because i'm not really that flexible, so kicking my own ass takes a TON of work. ah shit.
anyway. not much going on. kids are in school, i go to work, we come home, have dinner, watch some boring crap on tv and call it a day.
there's been a few odd stories here and there...i need to start writing them down when they happen so i can share with all...wait...do i even have any readers? hmmm....
if there are any of you, i promise i'll come up with something interesting soon to spew on here. i know you're missing your usual dose of crazy...
for now...enjoy the new picture of my new boots. it's pretty. and hot. it's pretty hot.

what did you do for summer vacation?

well, since the kids are probably doing one of these right now, suppose i’d better do one too. especially since i’ve been terrible about keeping up on blogs lately...and there’s been A LOT to keep up on.

so. what did i do this summer?

well, If you’ve been following along on facebook or twitter, you’ll know that the past few months have been rough. well...rough is putting it kindly. while i haven’t suffered any direct blows, the gusts from passing hurricanes have been enough to knock me well off course and leave me questioning many things.

back in may 1/2our child support disappeared which didn’t seem too bad at first...but then i started looking at the numbers and back to school, babysitting, winter bills...it made sense to move instead of staying where we were. it was either stay and be to the penny or move and have a little wiggle room. i decided being stressed out all the time didn’t sound so fun. what’s that you say? didn’t we JUST move? why yes, yes we did. in fact a few odds and end boxes were still packed. SO...june was filled with trying to figure out what to do, where to go, downsizing, deciding what to keep and what we could part with. it’s gotten easier over the years thankfully. one good thing about moving so often (tally is officially 11 times in 11 years now) is that you learn not to be a pack rat: you learn not to be attached to anything...which is good and bad. i laugh at people that say they’ve been hanging on to clothes for 10 years hoping they’ll fit into them...oh hell no! that would mean i’ve moved clothes i haven’t worn in years multiple times! screw that! needless to say, value village received a hefty donation from us. AGAIN. there were also many adds placed on craigslist to help pare down AGAIN.

so...july comes around, we have oldest spawn’s birthday (can you believe i have an 11 year old?? UGH.). we find a place to move into, and, we have a week off from babysitting. what do you do when there’s a week of no babysitter but no time off work? you find a back up. i decided to let my mum have the boys for a week which was NOT an easy decision for me. at all. and i’m still kicking myself for it. BUT...having both boys out of the house made it MUCH easier for me to pack and get things ready for the move. so...boys left for the week, i started packing, then the biggest blow of the summer hit. on july 27th i had a phone call from oldest spawns dad that: brace yourselves: his wife and infant son had died. i’m sorry...WHAT?! that doesn’t happen anymore! but i guess it does. she was 27, full term pregnancy, just...gone. both of them. for some reason she stopped breathing and by the time they were able to get baby out he had been without oxygen too long so he lost both of them. WHAT? no. they were a young, happy, healthy couple. this doesn’t happen to people. this is FUCKED UP. no. this is not what happens. she pops out baby, they have a happy little cul-de-sac life and go about their business...spawn becomes a big brother again...it all goes on as planned. THIS IS NOT THE PLAN. which, if i’m thinking that on the far edges of this, i can’t imagine what was happening at the epicenter. so. i have to get a hold of my mum, let her know what’s going on, let her know that son will be getting picked up so his dad can tell him the news. WOW. that was on a monday, so the rest of the week was spend juggling work, packing, moving, large spawn going to/from dad’s house, viewing, funeral, trying to maintain some kind of normalcy. that was a helluva week. a long week. in the middle of it, my cute neighbors from the last house call and let me know they’ve had their baby...nice and healthy, things are going great...so hard to hear in the middle of everything else. so. we’re moving. both landlords (new and old) are being difficult, there’s a funeral- it’s crazy. the two days i did the actually moving were BOTH record breaking days on the heat scale which SUCKED. i’ve always moved in the winter time which i have to say i would do a million times over before moving in the summer time again. SUCK. things are crazy, we’re between two houses, trying to get everything done...and of course that’s not enough to balance. my dad came to town for my company picnic which was the saturday i was moving. hoped to be done in time so we could all go, but that wasn’t working out, so i was hoping he’d be able to take youngest spawn while oldest spawn was at the funeral and i was finishing up moving. turns out my mum decided to take my youngest son to the funeral WITHOUT ASKING for no reason AND let him do a viewing of the casket containing not only the oldest spawns step mother but also the infant baby. now i’ve never personally done a viewing, but i know they’re hard when it’s an adult. they’re crazy hard when there’s a child or a baby. most adults can’t handle it. and here she is taking my six year old through the line to see. WHAT THE FUCK? and i’m sitting at home trying to call her because she was supposed to be dropping off small son for the company picnic and for FOUR HOURS i couldn’t reach her. which when you combine her and my small spawn and being out of reach, previous circumstances, moving stress...you can only guess how crazy that made me. add in the insane heat and zero sleep and exhaustion from moving heavy things (really, i need foam furniture). i was losing my mind by the end of the day. it was NOT good. i was a freaking mess. those of you whom have been unfortunate enough to see e go crazy...multiply that by about 5. thankfully the small child came home, the moving was finished, it was time for a breather...right? yeah, not so much. the next week was spent unpacking, cleaning the new place (seems they forgot to get that done before i moved in), trying to patch things together for oldest son before he left on a road trip with his dad (they decided they both needed time together to help each other get over the atom bomb that had been dropped on them). it wasgoing rough, but not horrible compared to the previous week. but, it was to the point where i actually laughed on wednesday night and said: “it can’t get much worse. what the hell can thursday throw at me that hasn’t already hit?” i was joking. i was being factious. apparently thursday did not get the message. first thing thursday morning (8/6) i get a phone call that my younger brother had an accident earlier in the week and is in a medically induced coma in seattle. turns out he had an accident on his bike(pedal bike), the chain broke, he went ass over teakettle and fractured his skull requiring 4 hours of neurosurgery to relieve the bleeding putting pressure on his brain. he’s fine now (well, recovering anyway...not just “fine” after something like that..but survived in once piece). but holy shit! at this point i lost my temper with the universe a little bit and not so politely asked it to “back the fuck off and give me a little breathing room” (don’t believe me? check my twitter around that time...i actually ended up cursing out the universe a few times that week). happy to report, the universe has been very compliant and has backed off. things are going well now...cross your fingers and hope i didn’t jinx myself again!!

BUT...little brother is in the hospital, my car decided to pick this time for the pcv pipe to fail which, if you don’t know, that part controls the vacuum on your car. it turns out that’s slightly important- the vacuum helps the engine run, helps the brakes run, basically makes your car go and stop. without a pcv pipe it’s pretty damn hard to do either. so i can’t exactly jet over to seattle to see my brother...i’m just waiting for phone call updates and news...just a bit stressful. good news is it all turned out okay. car has since been fixed, little brother has since been released from the hospital, universe, as i stated has in fact backed off a bit (okay, a LOT...thank you universe!). things have calmed back down- for me anyway. but plenty of friends are still getting hit pretty damn hard. it’s been a shitty summer all the way around it seems.

so, what does it look like after the dust settles? well, oldest son is doing well for such a HUGE loss this young. we have good days and bad days. i’m trying to give him room but not let him get away with everything. it’s a fine line to walk and there’s not really many user guides on how to deal with shit like this. but he’s back to school now and that’s helping too. youngest son had a good summer all counted. time at the lake, learned to swim, nothing really big in his world besides the move. on the plus side, SINCE the move he had been staying dry at night and not needing diapers which has been a HUGE battle for us...so yea! me...well, i’m still crazy. but doing okay. it’s been a lot. it’s been a hard summer. the good news is that the state is actually working on my child support case so one way or another something will happen. we have an AMAZING new house how (triplex) that has such an amazing vibe to it. the new neighborhood is amazing, we have great people, great friends around us for the first time since moving to town two years ago (instead of being stuck in “the ghetto” part of town with everyone all spread out). i’ve had more people over and more get together’s/bbq’s at the new house in the month since we moved than i’ve had in the two years since we moved to spokane. I LOVE IT. it’s so great i can’t even say. we’re back into a small two bedroom apartment which i honestly LOVE more than the houses we’ve been in. never thought i’d go back to an apartment, but it’s so nice having everything close, only rooms that we use (both of the houses had rooms we never stepped foot into). the budget is better now so we can breathe and i won’t be so stressed out all the time (well, about that part of life anyway!). when all’s said and done, it’s so much better now. there’s still shit going on, it’s by no means fairy tales and rainbows now, but it’s closer now than it’s been in a LONG time.

this is surprisingly a really readers digest version of the summer. there was much more emotion, craziness, overall white coat inducing insanity than could ever be communicated. it seemed for a few weeks there that universe was honestly seeing how far it could push before i checked into a ward...wanted to write at those times but it was too much. it’s better now with a little time- a little perspective. i’m still working through most of it in my head- giant issues like: why did it work out when spawns dad and i got knocked up and did it all backwards but went to shit when he planned and prepared and did it the right way? how do you explain death to an 11 year old? how do you explain why his baby brother never had a chance to breathe? how do you explain to ANYONE why that happened? how do you deal with family when one side never stops letting you down and the other side never stops yelling at you for not trusting the side that lets you down? what happens when you see the world falling apart for everyone around you and you realize that a) you have no one close enough that would be that devastating to lose, and that b) you have no one to help you that through all the shit? how do you deal with the feeling of jealousy over someone that just lost their spouse because at least they had someone they loved and were that close to? what do you do when you realize you’ve become so bitter and jaded that it’s hard to imagine being any other way?

well. this just took a turn for the dark. welcome to my head. i keep trying to block those things out because i just honestly can’t face them or deal with them right now but they’re obviously still kicking around in there.

time to distract: SO. that was my summer “vacation”. it’s actually nice to have everyone back to school, have a routine again, a bedtime, a schedule. i’m sure there will be adjustments along the way- oldest spawn will actually be challenged and have homework and hard projects for the first time. he’ll also be around peers that are ALL like him now so it won’t be as easy for him to play king of the world...might do him a bit of good! youngest spawn is doing great so far in first grade...good teacher, excited to be learning. this year’s first day of school went a MILLION times better than the first day last year (if you don’t remember that blog...well, it’s been a year and i still can’t think of it without way too many bad words popping in my head!). this weekend they get to run away and visit the grandparents for a few days and do their final back to school shopping (read: coerce grandparents into spoiling them rotten). anyway. good vibe. good house. good kids. things are good right now. crossing my fingers and hoping it lasts for a while!

odd twitters explained:

so, in case you were wondering, here’s the story behind yesterday’s tweets:

super guilt: someone at the gas pump before me had prepaid but forgotten to fill up. pumped my gas and went to pay but didnt owe.

to whomever prepaid for gas at pump 2 in ritzville but forgot to fill up: i owe you $40!

SERIOUSLY?? found the people from the gas mix up and paid them back. AWESOME!

so, yesterday i was driving home from zillah with the boys and we had to stop at ritzville for gas (coasted into ritzville for gas...cut that one close!). pulled up to the pump, got out, opened the gas cap, took out the pump, selected my grade, filled up, all seemed normal. went inside to get some drinks and pay...still seemed normal...til i got to the register and my chevron card is NO WHERE. not in my pocket, not in my purse, not in my wallet. so there i stand like an idiot...and i ask the gal if she can hold the purchase for just a second while i check my car...run out, tear through the car, NOTHING, no card...S.O.L. i get back inside and she's all confused because there's a guy asking for his change from pump 2 (which is the pump i'm on). she's all confused, i'm all confused...change? i haven't even paid yet...what the hell? he says he prepaid for pump 2 but didn't fill up and he wants his money back...but when i went to fill up there was nothing on the pump...WHAT THE HELL? she gives him about $6 in change then goes to ring mine up AGAIN and asks how much i want on pump 2..umm...i already filled up. oh, well then you took that guys prepaid gas. SHIT. so i look out the window and he's already pulling out of the station, so i finish paying for the drinks and whatever (thankfully i had cash since i STILL couldn't find my card) and try to get out to catch him, but he's GONE...was going to offer to pay for his gas since he paid for mine. but it's ritzville, i have no idea if the guy lives there or if he's passing through like me...and he's GONE. now what? i feel guilty for taking some guys gas...it isn't cheap, and if he's like me, he can't afford to just write off forty bucks...SHIT...now what? not much i can do at this point. ugh. GUILT.

so i get back on the road headed back to spokane, cruising along...right about springdale i recognize a car a few ahead of me...silver and black rodeo type rig...NO WAY...it can't be them. so i pull up next to the rig, but don't recognize the driver....but the passenger looks familiar...NO WAY. of all the directions you can head out of ritzville, PLUS maybe living there or in one of the nearby towns...here's the car i owe money to on I90 on the way back to spokane...NO WAY. so, i try to get their attention, but it's not working. we get into spokane and i see they're taking the maple street exit...so i take the exit too...and while we're stopped at the light at the bottom of the exit i jump out of my car (in my son's sandals because i couldn't put my shoes on that quick) and pop back to their car and ask them if they just filled up at ritzville...or tried to anyway. they're looking at me like the crazy person that i am...i tell them i was the one at the pump that ended up with their gas and have $40 for them...we pull over in a parking lot nearby, they hand me the change the clerk had given them and i hand them the $40 bucks they probably thought they would never see again and on our way we went.

HOW RANDOM! of all the directions they could have headed...the speed factor of me catching up to them (not even kidding, this is one of the rare times i wasn't even speeding and i caught up to them!), all the exits they could have taken, rest stops they could have turned off at, everything...and i caught up with them and recognized their rig from a 2 second glimpse out the gas station window...

AWESOME. felt so good to get them their money back! and it was a good lesson for my kids too...even if it makes you seems like a crazy person, always do the right thing! even after i did recognize their rig i could have driven right past and they probably would have never know the difference. but ALWAYS do the right thing. it feels good. nothing can beat that feeling. the random greatness of the universe giving you a chance to make it right and DOING IT. it was a pretty awesome moment at the end of a great weekend.

so there you have it. the odd, random twitters explained.

i am not afraid

i'm still afraid. that's not entirely true. i'm still terrified. to the point of shaking and feeling sick to my stomach when i think about it. to the point where it derails my day, i become focused and my already high-gear mind goes into super overdrive. i instantly want to hide, to cry. i feel instantly defenseless, weak, stupid, small, insignificant. it's been five years. FIVE YEARS and i still feel this way. after not even two years. it took me about 2 hours to decide to send an email today, and then when a response came in i was instantly sick and almost started crying.

who is this person? who is this weak, scared girl? where is the super woman that isn't afraid of anyone? where's the person that chews out teachers when they insult my kids? where's the woman that calls people on their crap and doesn't take shit from anyone? where is the super mom that can handle anything on any day (as long as there's mascara and chapstick in the utility belt)? where is the woman that doesn't walk anywhere...she struts...hell, POWER STRUTS.

for the people that say domestic violence is only the type that leaves physical bruises...BULLSHIT. there are things worse than bruises. way worse. fuck...i would rather deal with a bruise any day of the week than this.

i suppose an explanation would be helpful about now: child support stopped coming in a few weeks ago for smaller child. this means that ex has either a) moved again, b) lost his job, or c) both. myspace has been great for tracking him in the past...it's how i found out he moved to arizona last year, and found out where he was working and was able to get support started again after the same thing happened last august. well, myspace isn't giving up any information this go round...EXCEPT for the new "whole family" picture he posted with new wife and new kids. i was about 10% offended for my son that he isn't part of "the whole family" but 90% relieved that he isn't part of that "whole family" and is 100% a part of my whole family instead. so, in search of more information, i checked to see if he had a facebook page started, and sure enough he does...and he's listed as living in spokane now. it seriously took me several hours to decide to email him because that means he can find me (yes, i know he could have found me anyway, but i don't like to think of that). and i'm still so terrified of him...i'm terrified of what his response will be. i'm terrified that he'll want to see my son (which would be the most horrible thing ever). i'm terrified that he'll start yelling and screaming at me again reducing me to the sad, ever apologizing, half of a person that i was 5 years ago when i was married. and the sad, defenseless person i was two years ago when i had to face him in court for a child support revision. i'm still terrified of him.

and i'm still terrified of who i was when i was with him. and i'm terrified of becoming that person again with anyone else...which is the main reason why there hasn't been anyone else. i don't get close to people. i try like hell not to care about or get attached to people (guys) because in my twisted mind they're all like him. and in my twisted mind if they're all like him, then i'll become like her again. that sad girl who was afraid to use the phone. the girl who wouldn't leave the house without makeup because he would be mad. the girl who could only wear certain clothes or talk to certain people. the girl who was scared to make dinner because if he didn't like it there would be hell to pay (and a never touched tater tot casserole in the fridge for a month). i don't want to be the girl who won't eat pineapple again. the girl who waited by the phone all night because if i missed any of his calls from work i would be in trouble. i don't want to be the girl that spent $30,000 on things to try to keep him happy and only realized too late that there would never ever be enough things to accomplish that.

five years and i still haven't figured out how NOT to be terrified. i've moved on for the most part. i'm back to who i was before any of that happened. i'm a strong, independent, successful, amazing person...until i have to deal with the past. a huge part of me wants to just say FUCK YOU ASSHOLE, knock his lights out and be over it. maybe that's it. maybe i've never had a chance to show him the strong person i am and let him know he can't bully me any more...mostly because any time i have to be near him i panic (ok...that's not fair...the only time i've seen him was in court which was stressful and panic inducing, not necessarily because of him...). maybe that's it. i know i'm not that person any more. and i can't be that person ever again. and i just have to be me. all the time. he can't hurt me ever again. he can't hurt my family. i can't be scared of him. there's nothing to be scared of. he's just a sad bully. he has to make other people feel weak and small because he knows he's weak and small.

i will not be afraid. i will not be bullied. i am not scared. FUCK YOU ASSHOLE.

i'm a mama bear

so. yesterday my older son had a symposium at school. each student picked out an historical person, researched them, designed a web page with the information, and had to put together a costume and "be" that person (answer questions) at the symposium. it was a LOT of work, and son picked Hokusai (Japanese artist) who is his FAVORITE person to date and the person he most wants to be like when he grows up (he's getting really good at his art).

SO. symposium from 4-630. on a thursday. he really wanted me AND his dad to go. dad had a doctor apt with new wife for new baby at 230...they'd try to make it (even my longest dr apt didn't last 4 hours). so. i go. i'm freaked out because i don't do well with large groups of strangers, especially when most of them are dressed up in some of the most random (and freaky looking) costumes you've ever seen shoved in one tiny school room (picture HALF of a standard middle school gym). it was great, he was excited to show off his costume, show me his web page (he searched for and loaded over 20 pictures on to his page plus information). and guess what...dad was a no-show. sad.

so. after it's all said and done, son says he's mad at dad. i can understand that. he's 10. this was a big deal for him. disappointment sucks. he asked if he could send his dad a text to tell him he was upset. sure. i'm a believer that kids are fully allowed to have and express their emotions. i may not always agree with his emotions or be happy about the way he chooses to express them, but he's entitled to them. the following is the text conversation with dad:

son: i am mad at you for not coming. it was really inportant to me ]:

dad: you are not the only member of this family

son: neither are you

dad: when you are ready to talk about this, i am

son: it was INPORTANT!!!!!!!!

dad: your mom can make arrangements to drop you off with my parents if you are going to act like this. i though you could be more mature than this.

dad: it's spelled important

wow. okay. the mama bear is so coming out in me. what you also missed is that between the last important from son and the rant from dad there was a LONG phone call with son in tears the instant the phone started ringing. to sum up dad said that if he missed the baby appointment he would be in the dark (because wife couldn't tell him about it afterwords???) and it was more important than some school thing (yes, some school thing). he went on to tell son he was acting immature and childish. umm...i'm sorry...HE'S TEN. he's allowed to be a little childish at times because...wait for it....HE IS A CHILD. you asshat. as to acting immature...who's the one arguing with a ten year old about how to spell important?? and refusing to drive him to meet the grandparents NEXT weekend because he's mad?? talk about a hissy fit! sheesh! i mean REALLY?? this was IMPORTANT to son. i get that the baby is important too, i get that it's a hard call to make, but i'm sure the appointment didn't last the WHOLE time of the symposium (it was probably over before the symposium started) and even if it did, HE'S not the prego one, he could have left and been filled in later. even if it was an ultrasound (which it wasn't, just a regular apt) they would have filmed it and he could have watched the dvd later. i mean COME ON. the sad thing is that this is just a sign of what's to come when the baby gets here. it's what i've been afraid of since they said the stick turned pink. son is already getting shoved off to the side and told he's not as important as new baby. and i get that it's their first. they're building their own new little family. but you already have another son...i get that he's not BOTH of theirs, but he's already here and he IS important. and this was a big deal to him. he's been working on it for months.

and a REALLY BIG part of me wants to call dad and rip into him a little bit. but it won't do any good. phone call would go like this:

me: you were very inappropriate with your son last night.

him: you don't know everything. call me when you're ready to have an adult conversation. *HANG UP*

(yes, he's pulled that on me several times already followed by months of refusing to talk to me and telling son what a bitch i am...yes, he calls me a bitch to our son)

so. for now i'm supporting son. he cried quite a bit last night. it was HEART BREAKING. and i told him that it was fine that he was upset and i was proud of him for telling his dad that he was upset (usually he's too scared to say anything...i understand why). he said he wanted to talk to the counselor at school today and i said that would probably be a good idea. and we'll order a pizza and do a gilmore girls marathon this weekend (i'm not ashamed to say my son is addicted to gilmore girls like me...he likes kirk). we'll make funny faces at each other and i'll make him clean his room then he'll be mad at me too. this too shall pass. at least i'm not the most hated one this week! YES!

random prego bunnies with ice picks

so many inconsequential things to say, so little time. okay. first. i was walking across the street the other day on my way back to work after lunch and this very nice pickup truck pulled up to the intersection. now, i know i look good, you know i look good, but he in the truck was just discovering how good i look. and it must have been quite startling because it forced him to almost immediately begin to scratch his brain. yes, that's right. while mildly interesting gentleman in the hot truck was checking me out (very obviously) he proceeded to insert finger up nose to fourth knuckle (that's all the way in if you weren't aware) and scratch his brain at the amazingness that was me. how flattering. i laughed. i'm still laughing. it amazes me what people do. no, that's not true, i've ceased being amazed. but it's still fucking hilarious. he was in the cone of invisibility that is our own personal vehicle (even though his windows were all down, thus shattering the invisible barrier, some people forget that). he could see me, but i couldn't see him. it was lovely. i'll cherish that moment for ever. F.O.R.E.V.E.R.

second. i am a jealous person. i am just learning to admit this. and yes, it's a complete and total jealousy based on insecurity and greed. it's things i wish i could be, things i want to have, a way of life that i want to reach. that's all jealousy is at the root really, wanting what you don't have or protecting what you're scared you're going to lose. i never really thought i was a jealous person. and i guess i'm only half of the normal jealous picture you see of females. i get horribly jealous but i won't act on it, i won't say anything (usually), i won't boil a baby rabbit or come after you with an ice pick. but it's there. almost all the time. because i hear, and i see, and i know. i know that the guy that's been tolerating me for the last two years still prefers the itty bitty little girls. i know he still drools over his ex's (and satisfies them as they see fit to drop by). i'm jealous that he attracts women like no ones business and i rarely get any attention. i'm jealous of the couples that i see that are happy together (even though i would probably go insane if that was me). i'm jealous of all the people that have someone to call and talk to when they have a bad day. i'm jealous of all the people that have someone to curl up and watch a movie with. i'm jealous of the people who have kids that are out of diapers. i'm jealous of people that have help handling mouthy teen-wannabe's. i'm jealous of people that can just live their lives and not have to worry about money every minute (even if they're just pretending). i'm jealous of the people that LOVE their jobs and really feel like they're making a difference (not just shuffling papers back and forth). it's all irrational. it's all things that will come in time or i just need to get off my ass and work towards. they're silly, nonsensical things that are a waste of energy to worry about. but it's there. and i'm owning it. not sure what good it will do me, but i'm owning my jealousy. it's there. i'd rather admit that than fight it forever.

*big sigh* okay. next. i've decided i would be a great surrogate. the friend that i recently wrote about passing- his best friend is (was?) a gay gentleman that has been desperately looking for a surrogate to have a child for he and his partner. why not? i was good at being prego. had super fat and healthy babies, no big worries during the pregnancies, the deliveries were both horrible, but that's just one day. and honestly, how much fun would it be to have people as questions about the baby and be able so say "oh, it's not mine..." i think it would be a freaking riot to see people's faces. they're looking at you...ummm...you're pregnant, what do you mean it isn't yours?? i would crack up every time. like when phoebe was prego on friends and got to tell people they were her brother's babies...freaking fun! hell yes! sign me up! plus, i was super healthy when i was prego. great hair, great skin, really healthy...i'll sign up for that! so. me + prego = great jokes and fat babies. it's an all around win.

moving on. how many of you believe in strange things that happen? okay, guess i could be a little more specific- the tattoo on my calf. it is loaded with personal meaning for me, the most important part is the pink butterfly that is for the gal here at work battling breast cancer. well, she's started coughing again which is NOT a good sign, it means her cancer is back again. well, ever since she started coughing again, my butterfly has been itching off and on. just the butterfly, not the rest of the tatt. just that one part. how odd is that? i think it's really odd. and it's just the left wing...i wonder if her cancer is worse in one lung than the other (that's where's it's spread to finally...started out 20 years ago as breast cancer). and today, i had a cold spot in the middle of the back of my right hand. it felt like a cold drop of water was on it and i kept trying to wipe it off but there was nothing there. there IS a small virtually invisible spot that i can see exactly around where the cold spot is...no bug bite, no marks, but i can see a circle of skin that doesn't match. i wonder what the hell that has to do with anything. if i find out one of my kids hurt their hands today i will freak out. that always happened to us growing up. well, not so much us as my brother. every time he got in trouble my mum would get little itty bitty water blisters all over her fingers so he was basically busted before he ever got home.

okay. one final thing for today: every time i hear "stimulus package" it makes me giggle. yes, i do have the ability to make anything dirty. it's great.

so. in summary: brain scratching, ice picks and bunnies, prego joke, "stimulus package" *giggle* dirty.