Happy Halloween!

My Little Butterfly Fairy

Is this thing still on?

Hello blog world? Took me awhile to dust off the cobwebs, but I'm still here! It's been a crazy couple of weeks, and right now I'm posting at work because my computer at home is unplugged. Why, you ask? Because I'm moving. This weekend. I KNOW! But I digress...

After my last post, The Smoodge and I came down with the stomach flu. Now, I don't know if you've ever had the stomach flu before, but I think that it's something that should have it's own month, bracelets, and perhaps a support group. Holy cow. I thought I was going to die. I've never had my intestines do an impersonation of a shot gun before. Being more than five feet away from a toilet was a risky maneuver, and a chance I dared not take. So for about 6 days me and the little one got to suffer through that. She was much braver than I was. I was fully prepared to put my pain and suffering on display on the couch, but I had to make sure she was fed and what not. CPS frowns on you if you don't. So yeah, that was that week.

I made it back to work on Friday, where I found a duplex listed that was exactly what I had been looking for, could not be in a better location, and for the right price. So, I did it. I've started moving a few things in, but for the most part, once I healed from my impending flu death, I've been packing. And I'm almost done. Which is not stressful at all considering I have to be out of where I'm at tomorrow by 1pm. Also not stressful is the fact that I'm breaking my lease and haven't let the property managers know. I'll worry about that once I'm out. Until then, I'm packing like a madman.

Oh, and did I mention? The Smoodge's birthday is SUNDAY. She turns two. And I've been making sure all the planning and what not that goes into that is getting finished.

So let's recap, shall we? Shotgun of the butt disease, packing, moving, birthday party. That makes me tired just typing it. Especially since I think that stomach flu death thing I had is still screwing with me a little. Some foods still upset my stomach, and my taste buds got jacked up too. I DON'T ENJOY DIET COKE LIKE I USED TO. I could knock back easily 5 or 6 in a day. And now? If I can take on one I'm lucky. The good part though, is that I've lost some weight. Maybe I should spit into test tubes, cap 'em off, and sell them as the newest diet rage. Except for the part where you wish you were dead, you could totally lose 10 pounds in a week! GUARANTEED!


Hooray for Friday!

Today's gonna be a good day. It's World Mental Health Day, which means I am totally justified in skipping out on the afternoon. And oh yeah, I'm gonna. Granted, I'll be spending the afternoon doing my daughter's homework...again...that's due today (she gets my procrastination gene...but technically maybe not, because she's 2, and she has no idea she has homework, so it's me who is procrastinating. I don't care, I just like saying procrastinating). But before that, I'm going to do collections here at work, which always makes me happy, because I get to say GIMME MY MONEY BITCH to a lot of people. Only more professional. And maybe not say bitch. Until I hang up the phone. Then after that, BIG LOU's. You don't EVEN know about some Big Lou's. Great stuff, and makes for even better leftovers. The best is leaving it in your car all day while you work, then going out in the evening for the drive home, opening that car door, and having your car burp Big Lou's at you.

Awww, yeah. Today's gonna be a good day!


Self Debate

Today is the first day of four that The Smoodge has visitation with her dad.  Well, potentially four.  Until she turns three, we have an interesting visitation schedule.  For the last two years, he gets her on his days off, from 7:30am until 5pm.  The exception of that is the weekends, which he only gets the first weekend he's off in the month.  Once she turns two, he gets one 24 hour period with her a month, and when she's two and a half, he gets one 48 hour period with her a month.  Once she turns three, we'll go to standard visitation.  To make it weirder, his schedule is one where he works five days, with four days off, then five more days, with four days off, then SIX days, then four days off, repeat.

I'll give you a minute to do that math.

All caught up?  Fantastic, let's move on.  The Smoodge turns 2 next month.  Which means as of this moment, no overnights.  Next month?  One overnight.  This month?  None.  November?  One.  October?  None.  Right now-....okay, okay, you get it, I'll move on.

That being said, today when The Smoodge's father dropped her off, he informs me that unless I allow him to have an overnight with her on Saturday night, he will be unable to take her at all for the weekend.  I said, well, um, you aren't supposed to get her on overnights until next month.  At which point he says, UNLESS it's mutually agreeable.  I think right here is where there is a problem.  I don't think he understands that mutually agreeable means I have to agree as well.  I also don't think he realizes I'm not a complete idiot.  Obviously if he can't take her for the weekend unless he gets her overnight that means he's going out of town.  With my daughter.  Um.  Not feeling a surprise trip randomly sprung on me.  But, me being the adult I'm pretending to be, I say, well, I don't know that I can agree to that unless I have more details.  You are going out of town clearly.  Where are you going?  How long will you be gone?  He gets ass look on his face that I could have slapped off with the backside of a four by four, and just says he can do it if it's mutually agreeable.  *sigh.  So I tell him, look, I'm uncomfortable with this, but give me the information I'm asking for and I'll think about it and get back with you.

Since that time, where I personally think I was being SOOOO freaking reasonable, I've done some more thinking.  This man owes me several hundreds of dollars in medical expenses alone for my daughter, and is constantly claiming he doesn't have the money.  Yet he has the money to go on a weekend trip?  I'd sure love to be able to take four people on a weekend trip.  OH!  Maybe I would if I wasn't paying 100% of OUR daughter's medical bills!  You think?

So here's my question to you, the angry masses.  Would it be unreasonable to tell him that if he provides me with the information I'm requesting, and a check covering his half of the medical bills, he can take her for the whole weekend?  Or should I just let him take her once he gives me the info?  I mean, I just can't justify doing him a favor (which is technically what I'm doing) without some sort of reciprocation, right?


Hard To Read, Hard to Write

I've actually been kind of dreading writing this post. But I know I need to, because I need to get it off my chest. It's been haunting me, and it's something that I talk myself through in the shower, and on my way to work once I've dropped off The Smoodge, and pretty much any time during the day that I'm not able to occupy my thoughts with something else. I'm hoping that by writing all this jumbly mess in my head down, I'll stop being so afraid. Deep we go...

There's a blog that I love to read, and yet every time I go to click on it, I hesitate. Sometimes to the point that I don't actually click on it. Sometimes when I click on it, and it takes more than 2 seconds to load, I'll take that as an excuse not to let it load and hurriedly click on the next blog in my line up (and yes, I have a blog line up. same order, every day, at the same time, not a moment before. thanks Dad, for the OCD!). I really do love reading it, but this blog, it....I guess it speaks to me in ways that I'm not ready to deal with yet, or maybe the fact that I continue to read it tells me I am ready to deal, or who knows. Maybe by blogging about this I'm hoping to find the real meaning as to why this blog scares the hell out of me, yet I'm drawn to it more than a moth to a flame...or like The Bloggess to vials of blood....or whatever other analogy/metaphor you would like to insert here.
I found this blog thanks to Jenny, The Bloggess (who in my head I am totally BFFE's with, even though she has no idea I even exist, but she did post a comment on one of my posts before, and I printed it out and framed it and now it sits next to my computer for inspiration... that's too much sharing, isn't it?) The Bloggess also posts to a blog with The Houston Chronicle called Good Mom/Bad Mom (because that's what true BFFE's do...they stalk you on ALL your blogging adventures. Blog-ventures, if you will), and because I enjoy that so much, I decided to dig around to the other blogs they have featured on there, and found one that advertised as "the struggles of a divorced mom". Now, me being one of those divorced mothers who is struggling, I thought I could relate. I thought it would be mostly about how hard things are raising a child on your own, a blog that would provide inspiration for me during dark times, funny stories of growing babies to relate to, mistakes that are commonly made and how to not make them, etc. And while it does touch on a lot of those things, she also talks about her ex (X) and the other woman (TOW).
Now, for those of you that know me, you know I can relate to both of those topics. As a divorced mother, OBVIOUSLY there's an ex. Even though sometimes I pretend The Smoodge was immaculately conceived (that sounds more like she was conceived in a clean room, which wasn't the case, as it was a hotel in Vegas, or very possibly a jacuzzi tub in Vegas, but I digress...the point is that immaculately conceived doesn't sound nearly as holy as immaculate conception....anyway). And there's an ex because there's another woman. I don't think about either of those two people. I don't like to. It hurts too much to think about the fact that the man I loved for so long and for so deeply decided I wasn't worth it any longer, and this other woman was. When I don't have to pick up and drop off The Smoodge for visitation, the only time the ex is in my thoughts is when I put him there, and it's usually because he owes me money, or is being an ass, and either way, he's there because I'm angry and I'm placing blame. I can't see him in any other light. I haven't allowed for he and I to be friends, or to talk jokingly with each other, because that just brings back all the pain of what he, and to some extent, she, forced onto me. Stolen. I had no choice in the matter. I'm not saying I was blameless, but I fought for my marriage to the very end. I clung to it, and I think that clinging is probably what dashed all hopes of a reconciliation.
But that's a whole other issue. The point is, that this blog that I love and hate all at the same time, deals with how she's dealing with having an ex and the other woman, and different scenarios she's gone through and how it felt and realizations she's had afterwards. And it's reading about those scenarios that just touch a little bit too close to home. I read her blog, and I can feel myself going through those same situations, and the emotions they bring on. I don't like to admit weakness, to a fault almost, yet when I read her blog, her heartfelt, honest portrayal of what it is she has gone through and continues to go through, I am forced to realize that I am still very, very weak when it comes to dealing with my ex. It's paralyzing almost. I feel the panic rising, and the tears welling in my eyes, and it takes me right into that place where I feel disposable and ignored and worthless.
I force myself through the blog though, and by the end of it, I feel better. And worse. I see a light at the end of a very, very long dark tunnel that has only been trekked by those of us who have suffered through it. And the light for me right now isn't that one day the ex and I will be able to have a civil relationship. It's that I'm not alone in having these feelings and paranoia's and downright fears. It's that reassurance from someone who is brave enough to openly admit what we are all thinking. That the other woman is going to replace us as mothers. That we can't just magically communicate with the ex simply because he's the father of our child and the court mandates as such. That despite the fact that we are all adults, sometimes acting like one just isn't worth it. That I'm not the only one out there that still sees marriage as a dream, and divorce as the brutal murder of that dream.
Sure, I glean other things from her blog as well. She does have the witty anecdotes and cute stories and whatnot. But those posts aren't what causes me to pause before clicking. It's the posts that force me to address the fact that regardless of how fine The Smoodge and I are by ourselves, regardless of how awesome I am as a mother (and dude, I am so awesome), she still needs her father. And despite the fact that he's a monster in my story, he's not one in hers.
And I swear to God if you ever tell him I said that, I will hunt you down and kill you. I will gladly do that time.
See? Growth.



Hi there.  I'm still here.  I have two posts that have been forming in my head for the past week that are filled with all kinds of meaning and insight, and at some point I'll stick them on here, but now I'm afraid that I'm building them up too much and when I actually get them posted everyone will read it and think wow, I'm so glad she waited a week to post about the three toed sloth.  Not that my post is about the three toed sloth, but you know what I mean.  Ugh.  Anyway.

I'm still here.  I will post again soon.  Probably not tonight.  Maybe tonight.  I don't know, let's wing it, shall we?  See ya soon!

Is it weird that I just did a spell check on the above?  I mean, it's what?  Three sentences?  Two?  All small words.  Not like I attempted to tackle that superfragi- word from Mary Poppins.  And I totally almost misspelled Poppins as Poopins.

And yes, I just spell checked that above paragraph as well.