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.

Bowen Is A Big Boy

Tuesday, June 14th, at 10:12 am central time...my beautiful little boy turned four years old. FOUR! Ok...first of all..this makes me feel old. Second of all...where the fuck did time go? And thirdly...thank Jesus he doesn't expect a big party and whatnot.

It literally seems like yesterday that I was huge pregnant and crying at the gyno's office because he wouldn't sweep my membranes and get the kid out of my body. ((not what you were expecting?)) I can't believe it has been 4 years since I held him for the first time and bawled when the hospital did his pku tests. I can't believe I have been a ma..mom..mama..and mommy for four whole years. I can't believe he is alive and healthy after four years in my care!! ((just kidding...I actually never doubted myself in this area))

Bowen and I have a seriously tight bond. He was my little miracle baby and we have been through a lot of shit together. We are SO much alike and, at times, he really grates on my nerves...but he is the only thing that gets me through life. Bowen is my little angel on Earth..and though he seriously tests my patience...I absolutely cannot imagine not having him in my life.

I have heard that there is no bond like the bond between a mother and her child and I never fully understood it until I knew I was having him. And now I understand why moms can lift cars off of their children who are trapped underneath them and kill people who do harm to their kid. Bowen has made suuuuch a huge impact on my life (and not just financially) and I hope one day he feels the same about me.

I don't want to get too mushy and out of control...but my baby isn't really a baby anymore. And though I am so excited to see what the next year brings and watch him continue to grow and learn and develop...I am also a little sad that sooner rather than later, I will just be an annoying mom who doesn't get smoochers and snuggles. So for the time being I am going to smother him in snuggles and smoochers and relish every sweet second. Because I don't have a baby anymore, I have a big, four year old boy!

Boys Will Be Boys

Raising a boy is weird and gross and awkward and awesome..all at the same time. I don't think there is a day when I haven't gone to bed and thought, "Did that really happen?" or "Did he really say that?" Some times..ok a lot of times...I wish for one day where something ridiculous didn't happen. But in all reality, it keeps things interesting and I wouldn't have it any other way.

A couple weeks ago Bowen and I went to Jason's soccer game. Bowen and I were sitting in our chairs, soaking up some vitamin D, when he says..loudly.."Hey mommy...I have a penis, he has a penis, he has a penis, he has a penis, he has a penis.." While pointing to all the players on the field. I said, "Bowen do not say penis again. IF you say penis again I am going to take you home." (empty threat...I know...never a good idea) He looks at me. Looks at the field. Looks back at me (with a glimmer in his eye) and says, "PENIS!"

Bowen told me a couple of days ago that he would always be my baby. Of course, melted my heart. And I gave him a big squeeze and some smooches. Then he asked for a popsicle. I should have known that he was just buttering me up for something. I told him no and he replied, "I'm not your baby anymore!" And then, "And I'm not your fwiend anymore eider!" If I didn't truly believe that parents should not be friends with their kids, my heart would be broken. BUT since I do believe this..I am just fine with it...and 100% sure I will hear it a million more times.

And then there was yesterday....Now..let it be known, I have the gassiest child known to man. He wakes up in the morning, lets one rip. He climbs into the car, one "accidentally" pops out. He moves, he farts. It is really a sad situation. So yesterday, I was standing in the kitchen and I made him pick his toy up off the floor. And he farts. So he smiles this HUGE smile and says, "MOMMY!!! My toot just said HI to you!" Glad something likes me.

I thought about getting into the PHYSICALLY disgusting things boys do...I mean they have a small thingy with a HUGE hole to aim into, yet there is ALWAYS pee on the toilet. WTF?! But that is just too much to get into in one day. So here is your nugget..of boy raising nastiness.