Turmoil

I have been MIA for a while now because of home-grown emotional turmoil. I am at a loss at this point. So here is the deal:

We have lived in this house for something like 6 years now. We have had some Very great times, and some even GREATER bad times. To sum it up, we have been thru hell and back, a few times.

Now we are faced with losing our house. That doesnt really make me sad, just the circumstances around the way things went down. I know Matt has done everything that a girl could ask for, so not an ounce of this lies on him as failure to provide. There are others to blame here, but I will not point fingers.

Now, it is raining cats and dogs, starting to get cold and we need to find a new home that will accept our pets and his cars. Can y’all see the fun in that??

Oh and I am not sure if anyone has ever had the DIS-pleasure of living with an in law, but that possibility is looking more and more like the solution. And it’s not that I am not grateful for the help (ha ha) it’s just that I am not looking forward to being a prisoner in someone else home. Locked up tighter than an inmate, being told how to cook and clean, and when and what I can watch on TV (that is in my name btw).  My parents will never come to visit because they dislike the other parent more than I do (if that is even possible) .

If that is not bad, here is what is worse. I know I sound absolutely crazy right now, so please just bear with me. I am pretty sure that some how my phone is tapped. I have had numerous conversations that you would either have to be a part of or listing to know what was said. But, on those occasions word for word of those conversations have been repeated back to me. I have no clue as to how or why, but I know I am not crazy. (OK maybe a little.) And I have no way to prove this, or have a private conversation.

Well gotta go. Hes here.

Red Is The NEW Blonde

I have a problem. Just a little one. I think I may have hair ADD. I get bored easy. I have done the boring things like the basic colors, and yes they are boring. I then went to high lights and that kinda thing.

When I was a kid and lived with the BioF ( Bio Father) my step mom would let me dye my hair any color I wanted… EXCEPT Red. And I would do it just to piss her off. Yes, I was wildly out of controll if you ask them. Lets not go there right now. Save that for a more juicy post when I have a few more drinks in me!

Anywho, I have done every color in the “box” line. And then I met Sallys Beauty Store. It is almost as good as a shoe store selling all their sexy boots at 1/2 price (did I mention I have boots?? Yes my MIL needed a reason to go shopping and I GLADLY took them off her hands) (Also did I mention that I think I may have a touch of ADD??) I found every thing I could ever want with in those walls (save the boots) and I became a regular in no time.

Soon, I got bored again, as is always the case. And then I found Temporary and Semi Permanent Color. Holy Moses!!!

I have always wanted to to someting crazy to my hair before I get “old”. Now some older women can pull off the unconventional colors, but I am sure that I would not be able to. So I bleached the front of my head and dyed it hot pink. It was amazing!!!!!

Hot Pink!!!

I went back to natural after a while. The reason was really because I was sick of getting carded all the time!

The red has been calling me for some time now. But I did not want burgandy or any other variation of red. I wanted RED RED. I walked in to Sallys last Saturday and pointed to a wall of extensions and said ” I want red hair, like this.” And a half hour later I walked out of the store ready to change my hair history.

Can I be so self boasting to say that I am in love with it and it looks amazing? That it fits my personality to a “T”? Yes, I think I can.

Pictures to follow!!

It Takes A Village

I am reaching out here. In hopes that someone else is going thru what I am. I  am at my breaking point with my little princess, and I honestly do not know how much more I can take.

Before any of y’all call me a bad mother, remember that I have exhausted every avenue in discipline I can think of ( hence the fact that I am reaching out for help now) and nothing has worked.

So far, I have tried taking things away (example; when AM does not pick up her toys when it is time, I take them away). I have tried reasoning with her ( this is like arguing with the captain of the Debate team) I have tried a swat on the ass ( not a beating, but a touch to let her know I mean business, in which she laughs off) I have tried sending her to her room ( she always finds something to do in there so it’s not really a punishment) and I have tried time out. I am all out of options, and she is wining!

I can not live in a house where the three-year old child runs the show. Daddy doesn’t get to witness much of the things she does, because he works graveyard and has to sleep all day. Its her way, or everyone will pay for it.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my girl. I think she is the most intelligent little girl I have ever met. But that is not always a good thing. She out smarts me, and is very sneaky. She knows the words to use to get her way, every time. And she knows that she is cute and works it to her advantage.

Most times it just makes me white-hot mad. Other times, it is mortifying to hear the things she says or see the things she does. Just today, she told me she was going to shoot me in the face. She has never heard me or Matt threaten to shoot anyone! I have no clue where this is coming from!!

Pretty Please?

So, from one parent to many others, does any one have any advise?? Is my child lost forever? Is it too late to change her ways? Or, will she end up one of those mean girls??

(If you are going to bash me or my daughter in any way, don’t even try to comment. I also do not need help from someone who doesn’t even have kids, but thank you anyway!)

There Is No Going Back From Here

So I have made some fucked up decisions in my life time. I’ve hurt some really good people. I have also been hurt a time or two over the years. I think that is kinda what started my down hill spiral. Now is not the time to go into who did what to me, or how they did it, but I do need to get somethings off my chest before I explode.

Today, I had to learn from Facebook (of all the god damn places) that my ONLY sister graduated from high school. I am devastated. I knew it was comin, I just figured that we could set aside our differences for one night and I could be there to witness the good deed she accomplished. No such luck. I also knew that wouldn’t happen. I wont get into the terrible details, but I will tell you it started with her boyfriend. (I have no idea if they are still together) I make quilts, and me and all the kids in the family got fabric together to make for our grandma. All significant others (married or otherwise) were to be left off. Well, that just wouldn’t fly. She got so mad. Whatever. We got over it and kind of moved on. Then we hit our final bump. It was huge. When I was pregnant with JR, I was told that there was a chance that he could have Downs Syndrome. I was devastated. I ended up in the hospital that same night with kidney problems. The very first person I went to was my sister. She shot right back that I was a liar and ignorant. That I must be stupid because everyone knows that you can not see the baby’s brain in an ultrasound. I couldn’t believe she was saying those things. She didn’t even visit me in the hospital. I havent heard from her after she told me I was dead to her. I did tell her that I would always be here when she came down off her high horse.

You see, her and I have always had a rocky relationship. But I have always loved her. I was seven when she was born, and I admit I was a little jealous. I had always been the only girl. (I think at this point I need to let everyone who doesn’t know, she is my half-sister. My biological father remarried my step mom and had a baby with her. Not my daddy. ) Then, it kind of turned into a competition between us. My step mom hated me (and still does) so she went out of her way to make Missy the perfect little girl. I remember seeing my parents pick her Binky up after it fell on the floor and clean it off with their mouth (yuck!) and I tried to do the same thing and was scolded for it big time.

I eventually ran away from my mommas house when I was 14, (for a stupid low life boy my daddy hated, for good reason) and moved in with my father and his family. All was good for about 6 weeks. Then shit started to crumble. Big time, and soon after, both parents where at the bar every single night until closing. I had to take care of my sister and little brother. And she hated me for it. One time, I called my momma crying and Missy just wouldn’t leave shit alone. She was screaming in my face. I walked up the stairs to my room, talking to my momma to calm down. Missy ripped the phone cord out of the wall. Then she came up and started taunting me. I pushed her down the stairs by her face. The sad thing is, I didn’t feel any thing when I did that. Another time, she came into my room and started throwing things at me, shoes, movies what ever she could get her hands on.

Our relationship started to get better when I found out I was pregnant with AM. She became my best friend. She walked the mall with me, went to eat and talked to me every day several times. It was everything I had wanted for us. After my daughter was born, she sat right by me and watched them sitch me up. She loved my daughter.

After a while, things started to change. She started calling less, and coming to see her god-daughter less. I knew it had everything to do with me living an hour and a half away and that she had a boyfriend at her house. I understood.

One day, she started flipping out on me. Told me she hated me for calling CPS on our father. PSH! I had not even thought to ever do that, and if I had, it would have been done when I was still living with them. Soon after, was christmas and everything after that. I have yet to hear her voice in over a year.

click picture for photo credit

I apologize for the long-winded post. I just want y’all to know. If you have siblings, don’t ever take them for granted. Tell them you love them all the time. Never say good-bye on bad terms. Always work it out. My momma always told me “From cradle to grave, always love your brother (or sister) because he’s the only one you’ll ever have.” I never realized how true that was until this. And when you get to where I am, there is no turning back. Just remember that.

This is our FUTURE?

 

So, today as I sit back and think about my children’s future, a horrid thought ran across my mind; “My generation is SCREWED!” I can not imagine what will happen to me as I grow old and need help. I can not fathom having to rely on either our government or today’s youth for anything. Honestly, I am quite afraid. So I’ll just get right to addressing the huge elephant in the room now:

 

Have any of you watched the news lately? How many times have you heard about kids bringing guns to school? Or all the bullying? What about all the cuts OUR government wants to make to things like Medicare? Will Social Security be a thing of the past? Retirement age keeps going up,( yes I understand, that goes up with life expectancy, but really??) How many will end up with some sort of “After-High-School” training or education? What about all the meth heads and other druggies? Will they steal my high blood pressure medication or my heart medication? I know I am being silly, but we have to consider these things? What does our future hold?

 

 

 

If you think I am wrong in my feelings about today’s youth, visit this link. It’s a poll taken over a period of a few years, and illustrates my feelings. Although I fit in the 18-29 year old category, I am less than optimistic.

And please, don’t get me started on the outlook for Social Security and Medicare. It’s a joke. I realise that is not our youths fault, but congress. I would rather not blame anyone. But, alas, the blame must fall.

I am also a little worried about the work ethic. I mean, with the number rising of Americans (young and old ) abusing illicit drugs, I can’t imagine that the work ethic is very strong. With that, I would assume, goes the want to succeed and be better.

So my question, who is going to man the rest home or hospice I happen to land in if fewer people are being trained to do so? Who is going to foot the bill (because I most definitely will not have all kinds of money saved) when some fool with no desire to care for me grudgingly takes me in out of pitty?

 

Don’t Pull The Trigger

It’s amazing how something can trigger a memory or something from the past. And, its amazing how we deal with those triggers.

Some of us avoid them at all costs.
For me something small will trigger ” black out” like feelings for me. Something like the smell of peaches. Not like mommas peach pie, no like the smell of peach lotion or a peach scented candle. It sends me over the edge. Its horrible and hard to recover, often leaving me feeling like I need a good salt scrub scouring.

Other times its a song. In my case when I hear anything by Pat Benatar I instantly feel good, along with Hootie and the Blow Fish. Feel good songs that always lift up my spirit. Some songs are not the same though. Some remind me of all the wrong I have done and all the times I have hurt someone I love dearly. When I hear them I get so angry. Radio instantly off.

The last trigger for me is sight. When you have not seen something for so long and suddenly it is right in your line of sight, you can not help but to feel something, weather it be good or bad. Seeing my daddy’s boat and older Dodge Ram Trucks (Diesel of course.) Reminds me of the good part of my child hood. But I tell you, when I see a 76 station I cringe and want to vomit. I can sometimes even feel the acid wanting to take over my body. I am not sure why this is such a bad trigger but I also have no want or desire to find out.

How does one over come the “bad” triggers? I once asked a Doctor and he told me exposure. No thank you. The next time I walked into his office he had a peach candle burning, and I have never went back or talked about the peaches since.

Do you have a good or bad trigger? How do you deal with them?

Romance Movies S U C K

I think America ( see, I can’t speak for any other part of the world, I aint ever been there) needs to let go of the idea that romance in the movies is or ever could be real life.

The only thing in life that is magical is something beautiful that you can touch. Like the way that snow makes no sound when it falls and almost silences all other noises. Other than that there is not “magical romance fairy” that is going to come bestow you and your love any type of dust to make things more romantic.

The way I see it, romance ( in very little amounts) is all used up in the beginning. Once the catch has been made. After every one feels comfy that the relationship is worth while and the other is not going anywhere, they both change.

No, I’m not bitter. I learned a while ago that once its gone, sadly its gone and nothing can bring it back.

Here is my list of top offenders in the movie department:

• P.S. I love you. Seriously I couldn’t finish it. partly because I was crying my eyes out and also because no man thinks like that. Sorry.

• Ghost. Really?????? Please just read previous entry

• Pretty Woman. I really did love this one. But you know that guys romance was gone quick. I mean he was expecting a whore.

• Twilight– this should be up way higher on the list. I love the movies (guilty pleasures, don’t mind if I do!) but for god sakes!!! I know he (like all vampires) was supposed to suck her blood, not make a damn baby!

• The Notebook. ‘Nuff said

• Lady and the Tramp. My favorite child hood movie but it had to make the list.

There are many more I am sure. I just feel like my baby girl (and my son) is going to grow up with this expectation that there will always be romance. And that if there isn’t there is something wrong.

I don’t want my daughter to expect flowers or showers of gifts. I don’t want her to think that every time he speaks that butterfly filled poems are going to be what she hears.

I also don’t want that pressure for my son. I don’t want him to feel like he doesn’t fit into society if he doesn’t fill a locker at school with balloons, or have his ol’ lady come home to a path of roses leading to a steamy bath filled with candles and bubbles.

And lastly, because I don’t get that kind of romance!