I'm Hell on Heels

I'm suddenly on this country kick. Everyone knows I'm a rock lover. Bowen even knows and embraces this. ((As if he ever had a choice)) And yet I suddenly find myself jamming out to Pat Green and two stepping by myself in the kitchen while baking cupcakes. I really am thinking about bringing out my cowboy boots and wearing them around. However, my lovely son is not such a fan. In the car today he said (very dramatically), "MOMMY!! Turn this off and PUH-LEAAASE listen to somefing with good drums. Like the drum song or I'm Not Your Boyfriend Baby or ANYFING else." SO...I did. We listened to Jambi by tool and then part of I'm Not Your Boyfriend Baby by 3oh!3. Anyways, it makes me giggle to think that he already has such an opinion about music, but it makes sense because I am the same way. Music is my life!!!

With this love of music I have learned to accept all forms of music and don't make fun of anyone's music choices/preferences...ok sometimes a little. BUT I know music is art and it relates to people in different ways. I am a lyrics fanatic and find myself getting lyrics to songs stuck in my head that relate to the current situation I'm in. For example...today I was in a great mood...and "I've got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine" was on replay in my head. But more seriously, there is always a song that helps me through a certain time. And I have decided that "Hell on Heels" by Pistol Annie's is my theme song. For now at least. ((Lord knows I have enough heels for it to make sense))

SOOOO..that being said. I always wonder about these people who don't let their kids listen to certain music. Even my stepmom censored our music for a hot minute. I remember her coming into my little brother's room where he was playing Limp Bizkit's Hot Dog and ripping the CD out of the CD player and throwing it in the trash. NOW...he was like..12..and the song does say, "If I say f&$# two more times that's 46 f&$#'s in this F&$#ed up rhyme". BUT it was all in fun. And it isn't like we hadn't heard the f-bomb before. ((My dad has major potty mouth when he drives LOL)) It's not like he was 6 and walking around singing, "I did it all for the nookie!" While I understand you don't want your young child walking around calling girls ho's and bitches...I gotta wonder what age is old enough? If you can't control your kid from saying certain words, what can you control?

Here is my argument(s) ((because I am a debater and all))....at some point all kids are going to hear bad words if they haven't already. I am a firm believer that I am the parent and if I want to say shit, damn, fuck, or whatever, I'm gonna say it. And if Bowen says it I tell him that it is a word only used by mommy's and daddy's. And it works. Mostly because I put the fear of God in him and he knows who is boss. THIS GIRL!! Now...one of Bowen's favorite songs right now is 99 Problem by JayZ. So instead of saying, "I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one" he says, "I got 99 problems but a Bo ain't one". I did not get him into this song or change the lyrics, but it works.

Second argument...don't all you parents who are children of the 70s and 80s act like your music wasn't bad. Don't even try to bullshit this bullshitter. AC/DC's Let Me Put My Love Into You is pretty dirty. "Let me cut your cake with my knife"...pretty sure he wasn't talking about a birthday cake...however he may have wanted you in your birthday suit. And actually he mentions dry humping all night in the beginning of the song. I don't blame him...dry humping can only take you so far..so either let him cut the cake or give the man a break. Aerosmith wanted to make love in an elevator, Billy Idol had girls yelling for more, you were pulling the trigger to Kiss' love gun, even Heart was talking about one night stands. SOO...parents...don't act like Lil Wayne is doing anything different..he just has some purple drank while he is doing it. And says it a lot faster than others do.

And finally (for time's sake, bc I can do this all night) all those Kidz Bop cd's are kind of creepy. How is listening to a group of 20 kids under the age of 12 singing "Forget You" which is originally "Fuck You" make it ok to let your kid listen to it? It just trips me out to that that the actual song is not ok for your kid to listen to it, but have a group of kids singing California Gurls which talks about melting your popsicle is just fine. See the irony? No? Really??

ANYWAYS..I honestly couldn't give a shit less if you cuss or don't cuss around your kid. When I'm around other people's children ((Which is rare..because I really don't like other people's kids for the most part. lol KIDDING)) I try reaaaaaally hard not to cuss, unless the parent doesn't mind. And we all have our own parenting style. SO do your thing. And I REALLY don't care what kind of music you let your kid listen to, I will just giggle inside when you tell me that your kid can't listen to whatever and think to myself, "RIGHT...he will listen to it when he gets to school and his friend has it on his iPod, but ok." Just over here listening to music filled with obscene lyrics and letting my thoughts blaze the interwebs for a hot second.

In Remembrance

I'm sitting on my couch, watching footage of people running from the Twin Towers and firefighters from Ladder 7 all saying the same thing, "It's like it happened just yesterday." I have to admit, I feel a little bit of guilt, because I rarely think about it. I was 15 years old when the attacks on 9/11 happened and it was horrible then. And somehow now it breaks my heart more. Maybe because I'm an adult and process it differently. Maybe because I am a mom and imagine one of those people being my son or me dying and leaving my son. Maybe because I watched my husband leave for a war that was spawned by this and come back a different person. I don't know, but it hurts just the same.

How many times do you stop to think about what the people who lived through it, who were in a tower, who lost their husband or wife on that day? I admit, I rarely do. Only when this horrible anniversary approaches and for a few days after. Then it is back to business, back to trying to live life and make it to the next day. But now I'm sitting here thinking about these people who have to live it every, single day. The men and women who have flashbacks, who remember the last phone calls they received from their wives and husbands and parents, the ones that ran from the burning towers, those stuck on hijacked planes...It breaks my heart.

Days like today make me stop and think about just how lucky I am. I am so thankful I have my family, my son, and am not one of the people who lost someone that day. It makes my appreciation for firefighters, police officers, medics, and the military only grow. Heroes don't have to wear capes, they are people we all see on 9/11 coverage every year. The first responders, the people holding each other's hands and saying prayers together while escaping the towers, the troops immediately deployed...those are real heroes. The men and women widowed by these attacks and the children who are growing up without a parent and the parents who lost their child, those are real heroes.

If anything today makes me want to give an extra hug to my son. To tell him I love him one time too many. This reminds me that while the USA is resilient, our community came together, and we have prevailed, we are not promised tomorrow. We cannot control the future or other people and no one, especially me, ever expected for anything like this to happen, but it did. So today reminds me that we should never take anything for granted, to tell the ones we love that we love them, and to never forget.

And So It Is

I'm just going to start out by saying I am having some INTENSE pms. Yep. Like serious mood swings, eating everything in the house, and watching every available rom/com and Lifetime movie. It is not ok. Seriously...I need an intervention.

But this week..hell this whole year...has been hellacious. And this week..has been topped off by the pms of 76 teenage girls all rolled into one. Thank you Mother Nature, you bitch.

So...while I sit here with my plate of butterscotch oatmeal cookies and my massive diet pepsi, I need to vent a little. And where better to vent than by the interwebs?

First of all...I am trying to get back in the swing of this whole single motherhood thing. And it sucks a big one. I am a little bit pissed at myself for getting so used to having help. But really I just want to know when it gets a little easier. With this break up my kid has been affected, which I have never had to deal with. So his attitude BLOWS. He has been acting like a little shit and it sucks being the bad guy...but I do it. Then I have to figure out how to get out of the house and to work earlier than normal because I have to leave earlier so I can make all my hours for work. Easier said than done when you can't sleep at night because you are stressing out AND freaked out by every sound in the house. Due to the lack of sleep I look like ass and am running low on patience. Deadly combination. And this is the first break up I have gone through without any family here with me. I really just want a big hug and girls day with my mom. I mean without my mom I never, ever would have made it through my divorce, and since this is practically my second one, I wish she were here just as much.

Secondly, what is wrong with car salesman? Are they taught to be blood sucking demons? Or was I just lucky enough to get that guy? As you all know (because the three people who read this shit are my family) I got a new Camaro. Friday, I got a call from my car salesman telling me that I owe the bank that financed my Jeep $256. I asked how this was my problem considering he told me at the time of signing that they would pay off the rest owed on the Jeep. So I did some research, found out that I did now owe $256 more because the Chevy company has yet to pay off the Jeep. Now..really pissed...I call back the Chevy company and as soon as I hear my salesman voice ask, "Are you trying to f@*$ me right now? Because it really feels like it." When he explained that the pay off has now gone up since they haven't paid off the Jeep yet (no shit Sherlock) I owe that amount. So I say, "Ok...fine. If you're going to make me pay this shit, you can have the fu@#$*& car back. I will be there in 20 mins, have my fu$#@^& Jeep ready." THANKFULLY..because I really love my Camaro...he changed his tune really quick. But seriously...wtf!?! Do they just rape every young, female that buys a car from them, or am I special? Gahhhhhh...just pisses me off all over again.

Next on the list...why do kids HAVE to pee every time you enter a store, restaurant, sit down to eat, or watch a show. Not only does he have to pee, but he decides to talk about everything in the world, he needs a drink, and a snack and everything under God's sun. It kills me. He could go ALL day without wanting me to do anything with him, until I sit down to enjoy my Lifetime movie or reality show. I literally told Bowen I would let him have 4 cookies if he didn't speak until the next commercial. He couldn't even handle that! Does this ever end? Or am I stuck with this for the next 14 years? Anyone??? Anyone???

And where the hell is the one? The one that I see in The Back Up Plan and You've Got Mail and The Princess Bride?? I mean seriously?! I refuse to join match.com or any of that shit. I just have heard one too many horror stories. Lets just say some people have really learned the art of Photoshop. But my point is...I've been married, practically married, and now I'm single again. And damn it I want some romance. I want someone who sweeps me off my feet and gives me butterflies. Not some doucher who wants to know what color my panties are. And the real problem is I live in Vegas. Where the men are like Ed Hardy/Affliction/Jersey Shore/WWF freaks all rolled into one. It is some serious bullshit. And where the hell am I...a working mother...going to meet a decent dude?? I might as well start collecting cats right now. Oh wait..I'm allergic. I really am screwed. And not even literally...damn it.

AS a final note...look...I have a big heart. I always want to think the best of everyone. I have been friends with guys and girls who were bad-mouthed and completely misunderstood since I was a little girl. I have gotten teary eyed during the National Anthem for as long as I can remember. I have been the odd man out since...well forever because I refuse to just go with the flow. But I am always a good friend. And I help people out as much as I possibly can. I will bend over backwards for someone if they are a good person. Now with all of this comes a serious issue if the other party breaks that trust or does something shitty. Anyways...long story short..someone did just that. Someone I thought was a really good person and someone I could trust and count on, really broke my trust and heart. I cried all night, couldn't sleep, and was miserable that day and the next. And it sucks. It sucks to be a genuinely good person (I didn't say perfect..just good) and have things like this happen repeatedly. It makes it really hard to not lose hope and faith when every time you do, you get knocked back down.

So...my Lifetime movie is almost over...it is an hour past my son's bed time..and I am sure I need to do some more laundry. And I just threw myself a big pity party. Pretty sure my night is complete. Ok..fine..maybe after one more chick flick and a half dozen more cookies. Now this...is the upside of the single life.

Songs On Repeat

I've been listening to this song over and over again...we all have that one song that we put on repeat when we are in certain situations. Sometimes when we are lucky its a love song...other times it's a song that explains heart break ((Bonnie Raitt's 'I Can't Make You Love Me' was my anthem during my divorce)) and some times it is a song that explains all the hate and anger you have festering inside your deep, dark soul. (No? That is just me?) ANYWAYS...the song I keep replaying right now is Run by Snow Patrol.

My son is my whole life...my whole world...my everything. Has been since the day I found out I was pregnant with him and this kid and I have been through some shit together. Once again...it is back to just me and him (like we have been destined for it to be just the two of us since the beginning) and it breaks my heart. Not because I'm single..but because in the midst of this whole thing I have hurt him.

The song says, "You've been the only thing that's right, in all I've done"

And out of all the shit I've done in my life. The college decisions, the marriage, the divorce, the friend choices, the dates, the jobs...just everything...the only thing that has ever been 100% right was him. Looking back on my relationship with Jason and where we are now I wonder what the hell I was thinking? And if I made a huge mistake. Hind sight is always 20/20 I guess.

I was the product of divorce...I mean who the hell isn't nowadays? But I always said I would never end up divorced. And I am...and I feel like I am in the middle of my second one. And the second one is worse than the first. This time my son knows something is wrong. This time my son is really losing a dad...because until Jason he had a sperm donor..not a dad. And this time it really affects Bowen more than me. So not only did I fail...but I failed my kid.

I know...I know..he will be fine. He is a strong kid. It is what is is. Kids bounce back. I have heard it all. And guess what...doesn't make me feel any better. But I commend you all on your valiant efforts.

So as the song says, "I know we'll make it anywhere"

And Bowen and I will. We have been through a lot. We have moved from Texas to California to be with the person we were supposed to live happily ever after with, California to Texas and had to start completely over. Texas to Vegas...and began a new life as a new family. And now we start the next chapter. I don't know what this chapter will bring. So far it has included a lot of confusion, horrible behavior by Bowen, and lots of tears. As well as a new hair color and new car. (I think I officially had my midlife crisis)

So..my little brat boy, Bowen...if you ever end up reading this...I just want you to know...you may never fully understand why I've done the things I've done, but since you've been conceived you have been the reason for everything I do. (Including the occasional drunken night...hey Mom's need and deserve a break) You are my whole world and I love you more than words will ever ever be able to explain. And "Even if you cannot hear my voice, I'll be right beside you dear".

Ramblings of a Blogging Mom

Growing up, especially when I was a teen, I remember numerous (possibly hundreds) of times that I said, "I will NEVER do that!" after my parents did something I thought was completely heinous. Don't judge...you know you did the same damn thing. Like for one, I SWORE I would never get divorced. And now look at me. I also swore I wouldn't yell at my kid, say the phrase "Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about", tell my kid they can't do something just because everyone else is doing it, or lick my finger and wipe my kids face with my slobbery digit....among like 73 other things. I can officially say...I have done..and will probably do again..all of these things.

However, there are plenty of things my parents did do that I hope I can live up to. Or at least do half as well.

My mom is really crafty. She sewed almost all of my Halloween costumes and prom dresses. She can paint, sew, cook, draw, and write. She also did some really fun things. Sometimes on the weekends she would let my brother and I "cook" while she fixed us breakfast. And by cook I mean she let us make a ridiculous mess. We would take empty 2 liter Diet Pepsi bottles and put water, milk, egg shells, and God knows what else in there. I am sure it was ridiculous to clean, but it's one of those things I will always remember. Along with things like making gingerbread houses. She would let Chance and I make these gingerbread houses at Christmas time. And we made them. But we also made a ridiculous mess to go with our masterpieces. And she NEVER said anything about it. I am sure when she woke up the next morning to go to work she thought a nuclear bomb went off in her kitchen. But she never said a thing. ((I would have had a meltdown of epic proportions)) My mom pretty much was up for anything. If I wanted to get all dressed up for no reason, she would play along. If I wanted to perm my hair (ughh..big mistake..all 3 times) she would perm it for me. My mom would do whatever spontaneous, ridiculous thing us kids wanted to do. And I HOPE I can be like that. I hope Bowen remembers painting his body and the floors. I hope we get to do silly things like "cook" breakfast. Mostly, I hope I can make Bowen's childhood fun and silly and make him feel like a kid as often as possible, because that is what I love about my mom.

And then there is my dad. OH my dad. The dad that used to put rubber bands in my hair instead of hair ties. The dad who always told me that it doesn't matter what everyone else is doing or if it will make me lose friends, if something is wrong, do the right thing. The dad that taught me how to fight dirty after I got my ass kicked for the first time. (he said eye ball gouging was definitely ok, along with earring ripping out, and biting if necessary lol) The same dad that watched me fail miserably at my first debate tournament when I was in 8th grade (in my defense I was going up against 10-12th graders and I had never had formal training) and made me feel like I didn't actually suck ass. (And I REALLY sucked ass) My dad has been a shoulder to cry on, a hard ass, embarrassing (VERY embarrassing), but always had the best advice. Still does. He has survived cancer, raised a hellion of an eldest daughter, can be the sweetest guy in the world, or the meanest SOB you've ever met.

SO....as a parent...I know I am going to make a jillion mistakes. I am already to at least a million so a jillion may be setting it pretty low. I yell a lot, I have wiped Bowen's face with my spit covered finger, and threatened a spanking when he was already crying. (I didn't follow through though) I've also been known to serve popcorn and popsicles for dinner, let paint cover both of our bodies, and let him use an entire box of bandaids on his "boo-boo's" in one day. I hope one day when Bowen is older he remembers the ridiculous things we do and will do. I hope I can offer the advice I have been given, teach him how to throw a good punch, and always have a literary piece that fits every situation. I hope I can live up to my the good that my parents have done and don't repeat any other mistakes they have made. Aside from the few I already have.

And that is my insight for the night. I'm a mom, but I'm human. Really, I am just trying to figure out this whole parenting thing one day at a time. And, like most things I do, I have a couple of hiccups every now and then. But, as Bowen lays next to me sleeping peacefully, I realize that I'm not doing too bad. He is healthy, smart, and pretty damn sweet. And with any luck he will make it through his childhood and teenage years with minimal therapy and no criminal record.

Missed Life Lessons

Growing up my mom always made her and my dad's bed every day. I think she tried for like...a year..to get me and my brother to make our beds ever day, but she eventually gave up. Anyways, I always thought that being a grown up and a mom I would have a neat, well put together house, and my room would be clean and organized and my bed would be made every day with cute decorative pillows. Now I am a grown up and a mom...and shit could not be more opposite.

Let it be said that we don't live in filth. But our house is not ever completely clean..like no toys on the floor, everything dusted, bedrooms clean with beds made. Nope. That shit never happens. I never make the bed. Ever. Even when I wash the sheets and everything. I throw them on the bed, throw the comforter on, and call it good. Today was the first time in like a week and a half that Bowen's play area downstairs was picked up. And right this very minute, there is a large train track...half assembled...covering that very floor again. ((I did sweep during the 20 minutes it was clean)) And I'm looking at my dresser right now, with its drawers half closed with shirts and bras hanging out of it. (At least they are off the floor) So point is...I think there are much more important things to do (like play "catch" with Bowen and eat popsicles in the backyard) than worry about my house looking like a room in Better Homes and Gardens. (Not that I could ever "design" a room that looks that awesome. Not one of my skills)

My favorite thing about weekends is that we don't have to rush to get out of bed, we can all snuggle in bed and be lovey. This morning Jason and I woke up before Bowen (which I don't think is ok...if baby is sleeping then mommy should be able to sleep) and were quietly talking about how Bowen had slept on my pillow with me all night AND left a massive drool spot on the bed. Shortly after Bowen woke up and we were all talking and playing and watching cartoons when Jason made the remark that today he was going to make Mommy and Daddy's bed.

Bowen looked at Jason so completely confused and said, "Make it into what?"

Which of course made us start cracking up. I wish I could have taken a picture of his facial expression because it made it soooo much more hilarious.

So anyways...I realized it is kind of sad that my child doesn't know what it means to make the bed. Am I failing as a parent? Isn't this one of those things we are supposed to be teaching him? How can he know what all the words to "Like A G6" but not know what making the bed is?

Wait..wait..wait. That's right. I'm too busy teaching him that its not ok to constantly touch his penis even though it is HIS penis, that the word "shit" is ONLY used by grown ups, and that he can't bust my ass, only I can bust his ass. THESE are necessary and important life lessons...making a bed can wait until he can actually carry a sheet without tripping over it 45 times. Alright..I'm all good, at least for another few years.

Party in the Potty

Holy balls its been a minute since I've posted last. But I guess that is what happens when you get a promotion, have family in town, have birthdays to celebrate, and diets to cheat on. Oh life. It really SOUNDS a lot more interesting than it is...because it really isn't.

My sweet, sweet boy turned four. Trips me out that he is that old. But he recently told me, "Mommy..I'm your best friend and you're my homie" And that reminded me that I really don't have a baby anymore.

Another thing that reminded me that my son is definitely not a baby was a recent trip to go potty. Only in my life could things go so horribly wrong.

A week ago I was in a dr's office lobby and I knew that as soon as we got into the actual office he would need to pee. So I drug him into the bathroom with me. He peed, then I decided I had to pee. So I sit down. And he loudly says, "MOMMY!!! Are you going poop?!" and I said, "SHHH and no!!! I am just going pee!" He looks at me and says, "Well standing up means pee and sitting down means poop. You're sitting down....SooOOoo...that means poop." Once again, he was yelling this at me, but I replied with a calm, "But I'm a girl..I don't have a penis..so I have to sit down to pee." Then..slightly horrified he yells, "YOU DON'T HAVE A PENIS!?!?!?" Pretty sure the people in the building across the street heard this entire conversation. ((Really..why are all bathrooms so damn echoey?))

In reality we were in the bathroom less than 5 minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. And I had to walk out into the lobby filled with people giggling and smiling. And because of this I felt like I had to clear some things up to these 5 strangers and said, "Just for the record..I did not poop and I definitely do not have a penis."

Which made the group erupt into laughter.

Maybe I should get out of the travel coordinator business and try being a comedian. I have plenty of embarrassing moments (like everyday) that entertain people. Watch out Kathy Griffin..I am going to take over.