Bridalplasty

Can we discuss this train wreck?

I openly mocked the show since I first heard of it a number of weeks ago. It's shallow. And when a contestant gets eliminated the host, Shanna Moakler, tells them "Your wedding will still go on, it just won't be perfect."

WTF?

Because you haven't undergone numerous procedures to improve your appearance your wedding won't be perfect? Call me old fashioned, but I always believed it was about the marriage, NOT the wedding. I, personally, wouldn't marry someone that can't look past my flabby ass, belly pudge, huge boobs, and stretch marks. (Then again, I'm still single nearly three years after my divorce.) I don't like 'em either buddy but if I have to deal with them, so do you.

I recently learned that a girl I went to high school with is a contestant in this three ring circus. And really? I'm not that surprised. She always was a bit shallow and full of herself. But, she also spewed constantly how big of a Christian and God lover she was. Which is great. I love God as much as the next person, but I don't try to maintain a perfect image. I make mistakes. I claim that. Tonight on the trailer for next week, we witnessed Ms. Perfect drop the F bomb on national tv. And the superficiality she is displaying by even BEING a part of this show? Wow.

She boasts that she gave her significant other a ultimatum and a time line for a proposal. Yeah, that.wont.work.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I kind of want to watch the show just to see what happens.

I can't believe I'm in the confessional again....already.....or can I?

My last few posts have been mere pictures, stories of cleaning the shower, fluff. Sorry.

The last few days Ben and I have been having a come to Jesus of sorts. Except it’s been more me getting frustrated because he refuses to be wrong and see my side of things. And him slinging hurtful, manipulative things at me because he knows I will internalize all of it. Ahhh, the bitch session begins.

I will try, really try, to sound as neutral as I can about this. Of course, things are still fresh. But, what do I do when I’m upset about something? Write about it. Which means you might be reading this the day it’s wrote, or in a few weeks, or never. This post may never see the light of day.

There has been a complete and utter breakdown of everything Ben and I have built the last 6 weeks. I 100% believe that he is not in fact the new person he boasts about. But, merely better at putting on a great front. A genius when it comes to getting things he wants out of people.

“Babe I really need a car”. This is the text message that was the beginning of the end so to speak.

Without too many details Ben recently turned in his leased SUV and decided not to lease another vehicle. My car is financed but half way paid off. It was suggested that I allow Ben to take over the payments on my car and I go finance a new vehicle. This suggestion was made based on my comment in passing that I think I would like a small SUV as my next car. Note I said take over the payments not buy the car from me. When I refused, due to my current financial situation mostly, a switch flipped. Suddenly, I wasn’t a different person at all and I only care about myself and not helping out someone I love. I have a steady job, and a new opportunity on the horizon, and it’s selfish of me to only think of myself. Let me point out here, I never claimed to be a different person.

It is also, apparently, deceptive of me to NOT be by my phone 24/7 waiting for a text from him to immediately respond to or a call to answer on the first ring. Those of you that know me IRL know that I’m always next to my phone. (An addiction of sorts I guess, those smartphones are just so damn handy.) And yes, sometimes the child is being oh so pleasant, or I’m giving her a bath, or making a meal, or ENJOYING a meal with my daughter. Or, God forbid, GOING TO THE BATHROOM. None of these are acceptable excuses and I must be up to no good. Can we not mention the times we (Avery and I) call him and don’t get a call back or a text for HOURS.

A guilty conscious, right?

I thought so too. And when confronted about it, SWEET TINY BABY JESUS, did things blow up from there. Because people can change and he is up there missing me all the time and what do I do to show my appreciation? Accuse him of being up to something. And just because men have been unfaithful to me in the past, I will always make him pay for their mistakes.

This is just the tip of the iceberg folks. There are a number of other things that are far too personal to reveal.

To be fair, I’m not completely innocent. When I’m angry at someone I immediately say the most horrible things I can possibly think of. I guess my goal at the time is to hurt them before they can hurt me. It’s a terrible habit of mine and something I don’t even think about it in the heat of the moment. I just get so angry I can’t think straight. I can feel hot, hateful things bubbling up and before I know it BAM there they are. But those that know me know that I don’t hold back much anyway, this shouldn’t be that surprising.

But what I find absolutely the most infuriating thing of our entire relationship. He is completely innocent. Nothing he does is wrong. Recently I caught him in a lie. A big lie. He’s been deliberately telling me one thing when he knows very well it can never happen. And when I thought it might possibly have happened, he told me it was impossible. When confronted about this lie and asking for an apology I get “I have done nothing wrong”. At the moment I heard that I stopped and said a little prayer. “God, please don’t let me injure this man. Even though he is a horrible person, he is still my daughter’s father.” Because in that exact moment I was seeing red and those hateful things were bubbling up. Instead I said “That statement is exactly why you and I will never work out”. Which lead to I’m crazy and I need counseling. I then used that opportunity to mention his other failed relationships with his other children’s mothers. (yes, plurals, lots of plurals) His response? At least he didn’t promise ‘til death do them part to them.

Whiskey.Tango.Foxtrot.

(This is the part where my ex-MIL should probably stop reading.)

Low blow buddy. Just because my ex-husband thought his dick was more suitable in someone else’s pants doesn’t mean I didn’t do everything possible to save the shit show of a marriage it was. Is he the only one at fault in our split? No, but I like to think my share of the blame is a very tiny fraction compared to his. Is this accurate? I don’t know. But, I didn’t fuck a coworker and then go home to my spouse and pretend everything was fine. I didn’t stay up late and send emails and make phone calls. I didn’t use OUR money to pay for flights to get laid. I didn’t tell my spouse I wasn’t ready for kids all the while telling someone else that I wanted to be her son’s father figure. Harsh words, yes, but true words. He was the asshole in that situation, not me. And Ben throwing that in my face sealed the deal.

I don’t want to be with someone that constantly makes me feel like I have to defend myself. That thinks my sarcasm is rude. (I know, right, WTF) I’ve spent the last few days fighting. Fighting for my daughter’s perfect little family. With a mom and a dad that love each other. I’ve apologized for things that I shouldn’t have to apologize for, for things that I didn’t even do. But, that’s not me. I’ll accept blame when wrong and I’d like to think that I’m decent at talking through situations. But accepting blame just for the sake of smoothing things over? No way. That was the scared 22 year old that married her high school sweetheart. That was the girl before she got divorced and took charge of her own life. I’m NOT the girl who immediately starts spewing “I’m sorrys” when given an angry glance anymore. Now, I’m much more likely to say something like “You’re being an asshole, deal with it”. Which is equally therapeutic I’m sure.

The down and dirty facts. We NEVER WERE a perfect little family. I thought I might have the opportunity to give that to my daughter, I was mistaken. People can’t change as drastically as they need to sometimes. Sometimes people just aren’t compatible. One person can’t fight for something when the other doesn’t want the same thing.

All of that being said, he will still be a part of Avery’s life. As much as he wants to be. Just because things didn’t work out with us doesn’t mean that they can’t for him and her. But he has to make the effort. He knows where we live and where we are moving to. He knows my phone number. I will let him visit whenever he wants to see her. He can call anytime. He also knows that I am not, at this point and maybe not ever, comfortable with visits where I am not present. I will be cordial to him, but I will only speak to him about matters that concern her. She will not grow up with parents that say hateful things about the other to her. She will not be a messenger. She will have two parents that are adult enough to call each other on the phone when they have concerns and not relay it through their children. If he wants to be there for holidays and birthdays and school events, that’s his choice. I guess you could say I’m giving him enough rope to hang himself because I doubt he comes through, for a number of reasons. But, he’ll hang himself, I won’t be the one doing the hanging.

Today, I’m in a good place about this. Yesterday I was not. I was also in the midst of dodging hurtful remarks and inappropriate blame. I seem to go back and forth day by day. But, we’ll make it. We have a big change on the horizon, I have an awesome kid, life rocks. I’m not going to let anyone mess that up. You have to prove yourself worthy to be a part of our life and you, sucker, failed miserably.

Have you ever

been so angry at someone that you can't even speak? There are no words you could possibly say that will portray how you are feeling?

That's me today.

The back story goes up in the morning. Come back for the deets.

shhh

be vewy quiet



we're hunting wabbits

Happy Thanksgiving

I spent a lot of time thinking about what I'm thankful for.

And y'all, it's A LOT. Heaps and heaps of things. The kid, the house, the job, the ability to change things if they need changing, GOD, the blog, the usual.

And while we all fill our bellies with yummy food, remember to be thankful for that too.

But for now, I'm off to pick out my most flattering elastic waist pants. (which I'm also thankful for)

What are you thankful for?

If only I could keep un-chipped nail polish on my nails.

Cleaning the shower

I have a method to cleaning my house. And it MUST NOT BE BROKEN. (I'm not OCD I swear....tick.)

Kitchen. Hall. Living room. Bedrooms. All the while I throw every piece of linen down the laundry chute (basement stairs....KLASSY). Lastly, bathroom. I clean the entire bathroom then spray down the shower, strip down and climb in. (Actually I strip down at the top of the basement stairs and throw my clothes down, don't tell the neighbors.) I scrub down the shower then clean myself. And when I get out of the shower AAAAHHHHH everything is clean. TRA-LA-LA.

You do it too, don't lie. Or now you are realizing how genius that is and are considering doing it too.

But y'all I read something recently that rocked.my.world. And changed my OCD habits, at least temporarily.

I was reading a story on the internet (I think it might have been FML.com, STFU.) about this dude that does the same thing (HA! TOLD YOU!) and somehow he bent over to scrub the floor of the shower and got his butt hole caught on that thing you pull up to turn the shower on.



He.ripped.his.butt.hole. He had to go to the hospital and have stitches!

You're mortified and puckering your cheeks aren't you? How does a dooce even happen when you have stitches holding you sphincter together? I had so many similar, logical questions about this story. I contemplated contacting the website to get this gentleman's information to ask him myself.

But then I had to questioned his anal tone. I'm not going to get all personal on you, but I highly doubt the probability of most people, first of all, GETTING something up there and second, it happening all loosey goosey on an accident (pun intended) and WHOOPS it just slipped in.

None the less today while I was cleaning my house I cleaned the shower completely clothed from the outside of the shower.

It was weird.

But I didn't need stitches.

Taking pictures

has quickly become a hobby of mine.

An expensive hobby.

But thankfully my mom foot a large chunk of the start up. And sometimes I go days and days and days AND DAYS without a decent picture because my only subject IS BEING A FREAKING DIVA. And I'm not one to take a picture of a flower or a blade of grass, just not my thing. I like faces, people, feet. (Especially baby feet.)

And sometimes I take a picture and think....meh. And then I stumble upon it two weeks later and I find it so breathtakingly sweet that even though it's no where near a "good" picture it's perfect to me. Even though this pic is SOOC I don't think I want to do a thing to it.



But I've decided that I want to practice more. I want to take pictures of people other than my super adorable daughter. People that hold still, people that are different than the toddler that has ADHD and a fascination for airplane spotting.

And I want to take Avery to different places. I want to find a dried brown field to take her to for a few shots. Or maybe revisit that old wagon at the produce stand.

And MAYBE that teal Jo Tote will show up in my mailbox.

Juuuuuust sayin'.

I was recently asked about expanding my blog.

::blink....blinkblink::

I don't even know what that means. No one wants to read about my random bitching and surely NO ONE wants to read MORE OF IT! Sometimes I'm smacked with writers block so profound that I can barely type a tweet much less an entire entry.

And I'm totally no good at pimping myself out. "Yo yo yo, you wanna advertise on my site" hardly sounds business professional. "Hey wanna give me some shit so I can have a giveaway" doesn't sound that great either.

But I can say I already have an awesome design lady when I decide my blog needs a little sprucing up.

Perhaps I could get Xanax to sponsor my blog while I move across the country.

Or maybe Canon would like to feed my photography obsession?

How about the ladies that make dozens of handmade goodies that I so covet?

All wonderful options.

Holding out for Xanax.

I covet thee Jo Totes

I follow a delightful photographer's blog.

She recently linked up a sexy little number and instantly I was smitten.

Insert Jo Totes.

IT'S A FREAKING CAMERA BAG!! I know right, so freaking adorbs.

I'm head over heals for this one.

So I compiled a quick email to my mom, who started my obsession with cameras/photography and told her I MUST have this! Her reply: she might get one. What the eff MOM!??!? How freaking rude!

PS. I'm totally emailing Ben right now and telling him that in exchange for birthing his child I should get this. And if I end up getting two? My head will explode with joy.

Do you remember when I bitched about three on two off three on?

HEY GOD! I GET IT!! I'll stop complaining about it. Because I worked Friday and Saturday and Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Which means I put in 60 hours in 6 days except it was really more than that because four of the days I didn't clock out until at least 8:10am. And who is the genius that schedules a doctors appointment at noon on Wednesday? That would be me. Really.effing.smart. Which means I slept about an hour during the day on Wednesday.

Thursday I was a real treat. Just ask Ben. I went on some irrational tangent about how he wasn't respecting me and hung up on him. And I passed out and didn't hear him call me back. Perhaps I should warn people when I'm short on sleep. Because OH.EM.GEE I CAN'T TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW!! You're BREATHING TOO LOUD! And WHO THE HELL is this tiny human in my house wanting me to feed it all the time?

How am I supposed to get through this massive to do list when all I can manage is to sit in a corner and rock with drool on my chin?

Sunday funday

And I worked Friday and Saturday night!

I got off work Sunday morning and headed home for a quick shower. I was meeting Ben to go to the Colts game. He called when I got out of the shower and said I might as well sleep for an hour because he wouldn't be there until noon. I set my alarm and laid down.

And slept until 11:15.

OH MY FREAKING GAAAAAAAAAA

It takes 2 hours to get to Indianapolis.

The game was at 1.

I hopped up and threw everything in the car and headed to Indy. I didn't make it in time. And Ben informed me that the tickets he got WEREN'T EVEN IN THE SAME SECTION which I guess is the risk you take when you get tickets from a friend. So, we went to a bar to watch the rest of the game (his suggestion) because really what's the point in meeting to spend time together if we weren't even in the same section in the stadium?

And that's when I knew he really did love me. He gave up AMAZING seat(s) to the game because he wanted to hang out with me. I guess that and he goes to almost every game. And later, in the hotel, when I was watching ESPN highlights and browsing NFL.com on my phone he said "I didn't know you were that into football" and "we could have gone to the game if you would have rather done that". But honestly, as pumped as I was about going to the game, I don't regret missing it at all. We had an awesome day.

And there will be plenty more games to go to together.

Google Analytics

God bless you.

I don't check Analytics very often. I recently checked and it seems my blog had a HUGE spike on November 9th. The blog that day: "The confessional".

Nosy bastards. :) (I'm obviously kidding.)

Almost every single post referring to Ben has had a high number of page views. As well as the post where I called Bill O'Reilly a douche.

Fun fact "in our socks" is the top keyword that brought people to my blog recently. Followed closely by "single mom blogs".

So, is this what people want to hear? Deets about the personal life? How PREDICTABLE of you! I bet it's because I said shit, damn, and douche in the highest rated posts. That or my mom is reading my blog a dozen times a day, which I believe to be true.

BOOBS! ( . ) ( . )

(ping...ping, ping, ping.......pingpingping) (did you HEAR ALL THOSE BLOG HITS?)

That totally just reminded me that I tweeted recently that my boobs were out of control and resembled those of a porn star. They were absurd. And continue to be....daily. (pingpingpingpingping)


WEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLL, if you MUST know. Things continue to go well with Ben. Which is a pretty generic update. Figuring out the logistics of a relationship can be quite tricky when we live 5 hours apart. Especially when one of us is preparing to move quite a bit farther. But, we are able to see each other twice this week so for now we are focusing on that.

This blog post got WAAAAAYYYY of track. Meh, it's my blog. DEAL!

IN OUR SOCKS! (ping)

Avery and Ben.



Avery and Mommy.

(How awesome does my hair look in this picture?! But, my double chin is barely visible so I consider this picture a victory.)



And then she was done with us.

Veteran's Day

(This is what I got when I google imaged Veteran's Day. How cute is this!)

Happy Veteran's Day to all veterans past and present. Take a moment to remember that freedom isn't free. Someone somewhere is tirelessly fighting for my rights.

Thank you

Potty time

We're STILL dabbling in the potty training. We were going to hit it hard in these 4 days that I'm off but I'm actually meeting Ben in Indy today, making it difficult. She KNOWS how to do it, but still prefers the diaper at this point, especially to poop. "Mommy diaper on" usually means get her to the potty.

But we did have all the necessary supplies. You know: purse, sunglasses, cell phone and stroller.



And Dora was going pee pee in her potty too.

The confessional

(I feel like if I was on MTV this is the post where I'd be sitting in the confessional in front of the camera.)

Ok, guys (GIRLS...whatever) (::waves:: Hi CBG, thanks for being the only dude that reads my blog!) here's the deal.

This is my blog. MY blog. Duh, right?

Sometimes I swear. Not around the toddler, unless I spell it. Doesn't mean I don't still love God and go to church on Sunday. (Ok, MOST Sundays. I couldn't bring myself to work Saturday AND Sunday night last week and go to church until 1pm in between.) Sometimes I spend the whole day in my sweats. Sometimes I eat Halloween candy for dinner. I HATE grammar and punctuation (because if you've been reading my blog for a second you already know this) and absolutely DREADED English in high school and college. My high school teacher once moved me to the advanced English class because he said I was too smart for his class. I switched back, because I hate it that much. Related note: I'm a good bull shitter. Semi-related note: I write essays (and blogs) off the top of my head, no outlines and rarely proof read. Oh, and I ramble too.

My point. I'm not perfect. I cuss sometimes, chocolate is a food group to me, I'm insecure. I love each and every one of my followers, so I thought it only fair to warn you that my filter has malfunctioned. Which really shouldn't be that difficult to believe to those of you that know me IRL (in real life).

Apparently I love (parenthesis).

I've left A LOT of stuff off the blog, especially recently. I've vaguebooked about some of it. I've vaguetweeted about more. I've talked with family and friends.

It's been an emotional roller coaster over here. A back and forth, up and down, make you want to puke roller coaster.


There's a reconciliation in the works.

Remember Ben? Yeah.

Ben wants to be much more involved in Avery's life than I originally anticipated. Ben wants to be involved in OUR life. Ben has made mention of joining us on a cross country move. Ben has confessed feelings that I never thought were there, let alone there the whole time.

Which at first made me incredibly suspicious. Then made me wonder why I was suspicious. Then made me decide that I missed him. Which made me decide that I DID want to try to make things work. Which THEN made me curious if that was even true because I don't have that new relationship giggly silly in love feeling. But then I decided that I'm a 26 year old mother, not a 14 year old professing my love on myspace with hearts around his name. And then I realized that life is messy. Things don't end up like they do in the movies. And lets be honest, I'm not exactly the "OH EM GEE BEN IS SO AMAZING AND WERE GONNA BE TOGETHER FOREVER AND I LOVE YOU SOOOOOOO MUCH BABY" type of person. Because I'm not 14. And I wasn't even that way AT 14.

But where we ARE at now is talking on the phone, texting, and meeting halfway to see each other (we live over 5 hours apart). Are things going to work out? I don't know. But, honestly do you KNOW for sure that your relationship is going to work out either? I've been waiting around for that guarantee, but it's not there. And it's not fair of me to MAKE him promise me something just because past promises were broken. It's also not fair of me to freak out every time we have a disagreement. Just because we argue doesn't mean he's back to his old tricks. We are BOTH very stubborn people (shut up mom, both of you) and BOTH very opinionated. We aren't always going to agree and we aren't going to always like each other. But the great thing about it is that I always know what he's thinking and he always knows what I'm thinking. And we have no problem telling the other person when they are being a pain in the ass or when they are being insensitive. And maybe THAT is just what I need.

And I mean really, what's the worst that can happen? I'm single and raising a child on my own? OH THE HORROR!

So MAYBE there is a future. And MAYBE we're working things out. And MAYBE I'm going to say damn and shit a lot more on the blog. I'm not perfect. If someone out there is on their high horse about it and feels like judging, feel free, but I'm far to worn out for pearl clutching at the moment.

OH EM GEE! I SUCK!

But y'all, shits getting deep around here.

And I'm not sure what to say, what to think.

How's that for a cliff hanger?

Happiness is....

Playing in the leaves during Trick or Treating on a chilly Halloween evening.







(Thank you Grandma for the insane amount of leaf bits I had to pick out of her hair at bedtime.)

I need this in my life

This headband is too cute for words. I want to wear it with my blue skirt. And leggings. And boots. And I want the two tone pink one. And the headband with the green bow. Actually there are many, many things I want in her etsy shop.

Go visit Twenty Five Designs on etsy. You won't be sorry. Or your bank account will. Either way, I'm going to need some of this in my life.

Perhaps that darling headband could make a cross country journey with me.

PS. Wouldn't a flower bobby pin look DARLING in Avery's hair?!?!