Monday, January 24, 2011

Spirits at play **ARCHIVE** December 2008

When my father died.
The shock was so great. It was so deep and raw that I turned my face away from it and instead focused my eyes on my mother. And her pain.

I barely cried.

I did gasp and bend and wrap my arms about myself. The pains of it was physical. An ache the I couldn't rub out.

I remember calmly discussing things with my mom. This is the way we both are. No time for anything else. Lets focus on what needs to be done....and do it.
Let's figure out the steps that need to be taken...and take them.

I held on tight to my moms voice. Forcing calmness inside my own. I figured that if I was calm then she would be as well. I'm almost sure that she was focusing on the very same thing.

I insisted on calling the family. I needed to spare her the grief of others. The tears and the sobs that bound over the line and enter into your heart becoming your own. Compounding it. Thickening it.

I needed to do this for her.

Three phone calls later found me on the floor of my bathroom, hunched over with the phone to my ear.

Grief. Is a powerful thing.

Grief. Is an emotion that the heart simply cannot stand to feel.

It torments us. It rips at you and smiles while it does it.

5 months later. I stand over my Fathers headstone.

Towering over it. Casting the shadows of my body upon his name.

Above me the sun and below me dirt.

The wind is fierce and warm. Which is nice. Very nice.

It picks at my skirts and plays with the hem. Swirling it around my body. It tickles my ankles and kisses my toes.

This warm wind plays with me. It seems to be a million hugs afloat. Flying and whirling and smiling. Trying to find just the right person to land on.

I am assaulted by warm windy hugs. Spirits at play. light and laughter.

In my hand is a plastic bag. The wind kicks at it and it goes flying out of my hands.

"Oh no." I watch the bag and the wrappers inside tumble over headstones and hop over rocks.
I take off after them.

It seems to me as soon as I get to one of the shiny purple wrappers...the wind blows it further out of my reach.

I run. I stop. I bend. It blows. I giggle. I run.

I am focused on these wrappers. Scattering. A small smile plays on my lips.

I hear behind me. "Laurieeeeeeeeeeeeeee leave it go. Well get em later"

But I still giggle and run. I hope over headstones and saying "oop sorry" to the ones I tripped over.

"Laurieeeeeeee! What is that girl doing!" I can hear my aunt. There is a smile in her voice.

I stop. And the bag stops as well.

I am out of breath. I lift my face to the sun and I laugh. My breath blowing out of me.

The wind picks up my pony tail and blows it over my cheeks like smiling kisses.

I look back and the wrappers are gone. Blown to who knows where. Out of my sight.

As I walk back to my family the sun is warm and the wind has died down a bit. I do believe that it has found the right person to land on.

A very Boobie conversation.

I hear giggeling behind me.

I turn and see a very squishy lovely boy (one of my favorites) sticking his small basketball inside of his shirt.

"I have boooooooooobies!"

I laugh and so does his friends....all crowded around. EXCEPT for his 'girlfriend'.

"That is not funny! That is very naughty of you!" She pouts and runs to tell on him.


"Mrs. Beanie! Mrs.Beanie! Ayden has a ball inside of his shirt...and he says it is his booooooooobie!"

I laugh again (under my breath) and tell her seriously "alright, alright, calm down....Go get a drink of water and ignore these boys." She runs off to do that, throwing Ayden the stink eye over her shoulder.

I sit down in my chair and call Ayden over to me. Here he comes....all crystal blue eyes, sweet face and gruff soft voice.

Inside of his shirt....there is the boobie. He tries to hide it with his hands...

"Hey Ayden..."

He walks between my knees and puts his head on my chest. I squish him and stand him up to face me. "Whacha got there?"

"Where?"

"There." I poke at his singular boob.


"Umm...I was putting this ball inside of my shirt."

"Why."

"Cuz...for it looks like a boobies." He lowers his head.

"Hmmmm. Is there some reason you only have one boob..im pretty sure most people, who have boobs, have two....I might be mistaken though."

He smiles. "Yeah. I only have one ball Mrs.Beanie"

"Ah."  I sit in my chair and try my best not to laugh. "I want you to go into the office, and I want you to show Miss.Dawn your boob."

He smiles and runs in there "Hey Miss.Dawn...I got one boob." He runs out just as fast.

He runs up to me and throws himself at my legs. "I love you Mrs.Beanie."


"I love you too. But...I cannot have you talking about Boobies in my class. You are four years old...and I'm pretty sure, there is a law somewhere, that says you simply mustn't speak about boobies until you are 12."

"Oh. I'm sorry Mrs.Beanie....I dinnt know."

"It's okay. Some children don't know about the 12 year old boobie rule. Now you know."


"Kay...Your reeeally smart Mrs.Beanie."


"I know. I went to college and took an entire semester on stuff like that. When it is polite to fart, rules about boobs....ya know..." I shrug my shoulders. Inside I am smiling.


"WOW." He runs off.

Later.....


"Mrs.Beanie....My ball fell out of the class."

It is Ayden again.

"Really?" I cock my head and stare down at his face. "It fell OUT of class?"

"Mmmhmmm" He starts to squirm

"I think it bounced out of class, because you have been bouncing it off the walls like a beast."

"Yeah Mrs.Beanie. I'm sorry."

The kid is seriously so cute I want to bite his cheeks. The End.

I sigh (very dramatically) and go fetch said ball.

I then stand on a chair and pinch the ball into the ceiling slats.
And there it hangs.

Ayden stares at it.

He hops.

He squats then hops.

I am laughing histerically.

"Use your Jedi mind tricks Obi Wan."

The kids turn as one and stare upon the face of the woman who teaches them.

"You gatta concentrate....use your mind power!"

The stare at me...and then the ball....Ayden squints his eyes and purses his lips.

"Mrs.Beanie...I don't think any of us have mind powers."

"No???"

"Uh uh."


"Oh that's right...in order to have super Jedi mind powers you have to pay attention during circle time, and always learn something EVERY DAY....plus..ya know...college."

I stand back up on the chair, un pinch the ball and hurl it against the far wall.


"WOAH!!! MRS.BEANIE!!!!!" All of the kids laugh, scream and chase after the ball.

I hear Ayden Yell "MRS.BEANIE IS SO COOL! IM GANNA GROW UP AND GO TO COLLEGE TO GET MIND POWERS! I AM SO GANNA LEARN TOMARROW!!!"

I hear all of the boys yell "ME TOO!"

"Im ganna learn MORE then YOU!"

"NO I am!"

And I smile, because these boys believe in Jedi Mind tricks, The 12 year old rule...And because they love me so.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Shanes movies...Check em out and share with a friend!!!!



And of course the Bloopers!


BEANIE!

 I hear my name a ZILLION times a day, but when it is said in EXAUSTION...That means I had a productive day....


A mom walks by my classroom.

She is SO happy to see her son. I bite my lip. "Ummm...I gave your son a tattoo again today."
I say this sorta quiet, but alas, she swivels on her heels and walks up to me.

Thankfully she is smiling.

"Oh really? What did you do THIS time?"


"Well! HE asked for it, and here at kindercare, we believe in a child's right to choose."


"Mmhmm....well WHAT did HE choose?"

I shift...and look away from her eyes. "Well...just a little...tiny, minuscule really....Sleeve."

Her eyes widen. "A tiny...SLEEVE?" She laughs and walks to the next room. I count my kids and laugh under my breath, and look over at the office. Oh CRAP.

Thankfully I know this mom is cool with my tattoo skills...

I hear a pounding of feet and Kaiden runs up to me "Baby beanie...guess WHAT! I showed my mom...my mom I showed her my TATTOO!"

He is smiling and his shorn red hair shines.

I kneel down "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh Kaiden! Ohmygosh" and then I laugh because he thinks he is a rockstar now, thanks to me.

His mom walks up behind him as he is pulling up his shirt... "And MOM...look! LOOKIT..Beanie did on my BACK!"

I quickly rush "Oh yes...YES um ...i FORGOT...you know...about the back."

She peeks at what he is proudly showing her, pats his head and laughs at me "You wrote his last name across his whole back?!"

"I was feeling artistic, don't you think that a child should have the right to express his feelings through art?" I quickly stammer. I stand up. "Im SORRY. I'm a bad person!"

She laughs. "Hey...you KNOW this is ganna last for a few weeks, just remember I BATHE my son." And off they walk.

I hear Kaiden run to my boss and exclaim "HEY BABY BEANIE GAVE ME A TATTOO LOOK!!!!"

5 seconds later I hear from the office:  "BEEEEEANIE!...I SWEAR that girl..."

***********

A mom walks into my classroom. She has eyes ONLY for her son.
He wanders over to her and pulls on her leg. He is EXTREAMLY concentrated... "Mom...I gatta give Beanie 5 dollars."

She smiles and laughs at me.


"Oh REALLY? Now why do YOU have to give Beanie 5 dollars?"

"Not me mom..you...you have to give her five dollars, because I don't have 5 dollars, so can you give Beanie 5 dollars?

"Okay..." The mom laughs "Tell me why I have to give Beanie 5 dollars?"
I stand there very serious. Trying not to laugh.

"Well...I don't want a magic finger..so.." and off he wanders.

I won't lie, I dig around my house trying to find things to show this kid. He is hilarious and fascinating at the same time.

The mom looks at me.

"Well...I have this miraculous magic item (and I pull it out to show her) It makes your finger glow. I say a few magic words..and BAM! You now have a magic finger, and your boogers will be the most magical crustiest boogers ever!" I exclaim with excitment.

At this moment 15 children crowd around my legs...
"I want a magic finger!"
"Hey Beanie..I want one too!"

The mom laughs...."So he doesn't WANT a magic finger...and so now has to give you 5 dollars?"

"Yeah..." I replied, leaning against the cubbies, "He DID have a magic finger, but he wiped it off...so...He decided Magic fingers were bad. We shook on it and double pinky promised. The kid owes me 5 bucks dude."

"Okaaaay...well see what we can do...He DID shake and double pinky promise!"

The next day Kingston walks in with a baggie in his hands. "Umm Beanie...Here." He shoves it into my hands and wanders to the block area.

I look at his ma..."What's this?"

"Well..Kingston wants to know if you will accept these peanut butter chocolate chip rice crispy treats INSTEAD of the 5 bucks."

I take a square out.

I sniff it.

I lick it.

I nod.


"This is acceptable in trade." And i walk over to Kingston to shake his hand. Deal met.
I then yell "Woooooooooooooooooooohooooooooooooooooo I LOVE my job!" 

 Dawn see's me, spots the treats and laughs.
"Beanie!"

*************

I2 shiny faces look up at me from circle time.

I hold up a picture of a dinosaur... "What kind of Dinosaur is this?"

They inspect the picture and shout "Herbivore!!!!!"


"Good...goood...how do you KNOW this is a Herbivore?"

"He has no sharp teef!"


"He has no sharp claws!"


"He has spines on his back to protect them from Carnivores!"

I smile, and hold up another picture "And what sort of Dinosaur is this?"

They shout at me (Their favorite thing) "CARNIVORE!!!!"

"Niiiice....how can you tell?"

"He has sharp clackity claws!" and the curl their fingers.

"He has sharp pointy TEEF!" and they show me their teeth.


"He looks MEAN! and is not pretty!"

I laugh.

"And what sort of things does a carnivore eat ?" My eyes keep landing on Ayden.
He smiles and squirmes.


"They eat bones!"


"They eat other dinosaurs!"


"They eat AYDEN!"

"Oh yes...They eat bones, and other dinosaurs....But their  FAVORITE thing to eat has got to be...most defenitly AYDEN CUSHENBERRY!!!!" I growl and stomp over to Ayden.

He runs and the children giggle.

I grab him up and eat his guts. I pretend to burp and let his now lifeless body slide out of my grasp.

I stick out my stomache and pat it...

"MMMMM. Now that is a GOOD Ayden Cushenberry!"

The kids all laugh and fall at my feet. They kick their legs and hold their sides.

I sit back down and they sit up too.

I hold up a card that reads "Carnivores" "Who knows what this says?"
I see their eyes connect with the word.
I see their mouths move silently.
And then I hear it.
"C.....C......"

I gasp and point my finger at one girl. "DID YOU JUST SOUND THAT OUT!?"
She moves back a little. Shy.

I sit there and stare at these kids. "I want to cry because you are all so friggen smart. I am so proud of you, and you are all BEAUTIFUL."

They laugh and squeal "BEANIEEEE!!!!"

And THAT is my favorite way to hear my name.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

My son the Viking.

When I came across the viking hat at Christmas time, I KNEW that I had to have it.
I gasped.
I pointed.
I hopped up and down trying to get my stubby body high enough to reach it.

"Beanie! You have bought Foofy ENOUGH stuff! Concentrate on Emma!"

Dinga was right of course, But still...STILL...this was the last hat he would get.

I double pinky promised.

She sighed and above the x-box 360 and the Dungeons and Dragons he got... THIS is what I was most excited about.

Christmas eve I wrapped it with care, and laughed maniacly when I was done.
He will NEVER guess what THAT is!!! I proudly exclaimed to my brother.

I jammed it on Santa's head, and got to work on the rest of the stuff I had to do. Still....my eyes kept wandering back to the genius hat that I had purchased.
Let's not pretend, I actually woke up my kids on Christmas morning.... I peeked into Shanes room and saw him on his computer.

"Pssssssssssssssst...Is Emma awake?!" I stage whispered

Shane turned and looked. "Nope. She FINALLY is asleep."

"Good....Now WAKE HER UP! I'm ganna hop into bed, have her wake me up! SANTA CAME!" I squealed with glee and hid in my bed.
The snores that softly escaped my lips, were in fact brilliant.

Soon enough we wandered into the living room, Emma's hair was messy and her eyes were alight with Magic. She stood at the bottom of our dead... dry, Christmas tree, covered in a pound of tinsel and her mouth dropped open.

I clapped and promptly flopped onto the couch.

Shanes eyes wandered...and beheld....The wrapped hat-o-viking.

"Oh mom....." He smiled at me...so HUGE. "Mom...Oh come one!!!!...REALLY?!!!"

I clapped, and laughed and screamed with happiness. "Yes!!"

"He looked at the blue wrapped package and folded his arms. "Oh now..I will NEVER guess what THAT is!"

He looked at me with such happiness, I wanted to pee on my foot.

When he unwrapped the hat of glee, he plopped it in his head and wore it for exactly 5 minutes. Until he unwrapped his soda drinking hat....his fancy cap....His umbrella hat....His towering pillar of hats...that Emma and I had pieced together TYVM.

Last week I snatched up my babies and took them out to Denny's.

Shane, as usual, stood infront of his massive hat collection and stroked his budding chin hair.


"Hmmmm...Which one shall I grace people with tonight? Choices ...choices..."

I suggested the Viking, and he suggested I was a genius!

I will tell you this. I love my son for an inumerable reasons. But at the top of that list HAS to be his ability to walk amongst the people at walmart and Denny's, capped with horns and returning peoples stares with "Hey, how ya doing?"....."What's up?"

Monday, January 17, 2011

Franks and Beans...Things they don't tell you.

Today, January 17th. 12:20 pm

Dawn giggles as she smokes her cigarette. We are huddled in my car on our lunch break.

"I'm ganna ask people if that happens to them...watch. I will."

Dawn laughs again, which, is sorta like a high pitched giggle. "Beanie, I'm pretty sure NO body in the ENTIRE world has stared at their sons penis and screamed "Franks and beans...FRANKS AND BEANS!"

She laughs again, and so do I.

"No?....You don't think so?"


"NO Beanie. You're not normal." she giggles and I wonder. About all of the things people don't EVER tell you when they place your newborn child in your arms.

Let's backtrack a bit...

My son is 15 and a half. He has absolutely no shame in his body. Every night he takes a shower, walks down the hall, butt ass nekkid, and tells me "I love you, G'night Ma."

Some nights he will remind me that his gym clothes need washing....Or he needs school supplies...what have you.

If Emma is about, he will hide behind the door. It never really bothered me.

That is, until I noticed my sweet baby boy ( 6 ft tall or not) has the penis of a man.

I was shocked....and I did the only think I could. I pointed....and I screamed "Franks and beans....FRANKS AND BEANS!"

Now.

You would think this would shock my child, but no. He rolled his eyes and said "Anyway Ma, don't forget my friends are coming over okay? Love you G'night."


People never told me this. And so I say to YOU. One day you will discover that your child has the junk of a man, and you will be prepared.

You're welcome.

Nose picker.

I really wish 3 year olds wouldnt fight with me.


"Mrs. Beanie...." A little girl softly whispers.

"Yes Squish?" 

"Can you put on some Micheal Jackson for me?" Her huge blue eyes stare into mine. So bright they almost hurt.

"Course I can."

I make my way over to the radio and pick out a properly amazing song "Change the world".
I thought it was appropriate due to the fact that today is MLK day and we were making lovely art to celebrate his birthday.

I sway to the music and the children swarm around me. They giggle and proclaime me "Silly!"
From my left I hear a grumble "That is NOT Micheal Jackson."

I smile and reply... "Yes it is."

He stands up and faces me "NO IT'S NOT!" His body vibrated with the force of his Yell.


I turn and face him, my eyes skinnying up "Yes it IS...."

"NO it's not. That is not Micheal Jackson!"

Okay. The kid is starting to raise my ire. I close my eyes...breathe....realize that, Hey, who cares if the twirp doesn't believe me? He's 3.

I turn my back and dance with the children....And I hear the child plop himself in a chair. "You are all dancing to something ELSE, that is NOT Micheal Jackson!" And he proceeds to laugh.

The little girl, with the bright blue eyes starts to frown.
She stops dancing.
I see tears.

I walk over to the little boy, "How old are you?"

"Three."

"I'm Thirty Three and I am telling you this IS Micheal Jackson!"

"Is NOT!"

"Is too!"


"Is NOT!"

"Is Too!"

(Yes...I'm arguing with a 3 year old.)

A co-teacher walks by the room and laughs. "Beanie!" She screeches...she keeps walking.

"Is NOT!"

"IS.TOO..Infinity times 12 no take backs Pfffft!"

The child stares at me....Prolly cuz he doesn't know what infinity is. My heart swells with the pride of winning the "is not" game, which, if you didn't know...is BIG in Preschool. HUGE.

He keeps staring at me. "Plus...you eat your boogers. That means I'm automatically always right. The end."

He stood there for a second. Then he ran over to us.... "hey...Mrs.Beanie...Can I dance to Micheal Jackson too?"

"Of course you can."

And we danced.....


The "Is not" game ALWAYS works!

Evolution.

I have come to believe that women have evolved in such a way, that we no longer crave Mr.Right.
We crave Mr.Ridiculous.

Example #1: (Right)
Late 30's
Great career
No children
not hilarious...but funny.
Intelligent
Polite
Sweet
Loves kids
Loves Dogs
Thoughtful
BUT...
Is unattractive to me in every way
I find him entirely TOO nice
I think he is absolutely TOO polite. (no need to apologize to the dishrag for stepping on it)
When he is UBER sweet, I find it kind of a turn off.
When he texts me, telling me that he is thinking of me. I sorta find it clingy.


Example #2 (Ridiculous)
Mid 20's
No career
No real education
Practically comes from another planet
AND...
His laugh makes me warm and fuzzy
I could stare at him for hours
Is competent at both Food AND Water fights
If he stepped on a dishrag, he would NOT apologize. He would pick it up and make it his bitch.
The above mentioned would make me pee from laughing.
Makes my tummy warm and fuzzy
Makes me laugh, even when I'm so pissed off my eyes cross.

Now. How is this right?
I have struggled and tried. I have stared at the first man with such concentration...hoping the next time I saw him...he would be exciting, hilarious, and fuzzy tummy inducing.

Negative.

That's not just it. I believe I have cracked the myth of many marriages. (Liz and Jody's aside)
I myself was married for 13 years, please remember. And in no way was it horrible.
It was perfectly fine.
It was meh.

Being a divorced woman, in her early 30's...I have come across so many women, who once were so in love....simply to find out. It was a lie, or at least a perfectly smoothed over untruth.
They were miserable, They were Gay, They were abused....But they married...know why?
Because they thought that they should. Because it was the right thing to do.

When I got divorced, you would have thought HORNS grew out of my head. I was an evil breaker-upper of the sanctity of marriage.
(Dawn was too..neener)
Dawn and I went from so many friends to just us.
And now??? *gasp*  Hahahaha...Percentage wise, how many of these women are divorced? How many of these women have confided in us, that they WISH to be?

Pffffftttt.

Most of em.

But as I have worked, Met many AMAZING women (both parents and co-workers) at least 75 percent of these amazing women (or men...I love the gays) Are with Mr.Rediculous.....Why?
"He makes me laugh."
"He's good with my kids"
"The man fucks like a Porn Star"
"No body has ever pissed me off and turned me on as much as him!"
"He's my bestfriend."
"He's my soulmate"

I have come to the conclusion that MEN are not the issue here, we women are. We have evolved. We work, we pay bills. We no longer need a provider. (Would it be nice? SURE as long as Mr. Ridiculous can find a job...which he can't...but whatever.)

It's all of our fault.

"Where are all of the nice guys?"

He's right there.
He's boring
He's shaves his armpits
He wears bad shoes
He has huge nostrils
He is a fatty
He is a little too soft spoken.

So the next time Mr.Ridiculous makes you cry, or cup-o-farts you. Simply blame it on the evolution of women.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Updating....

I moved some of my favorite blogs from Myspace to here. A friend asked where my blogs were, I guess her wife wants to read my ramblings.

"Oh god...ummmm...." Then it sorta made me sad That i didn't even know where to tell her to go.

I looked at Dawn. "Where would she go?"

"Ummmmmmm..." Dawn shook her freckily face.

I squinched up my face and replied "Myspace?"

"oh GOD!" Brandee huffed "People still go there?!"

It was then that i decided to update this blog.
The end.

The complicated lives of women *ARCHIVE* Mau 2009

I havent written in too long. It's just been too long.
Even now I stare at my screen and don't know what to write. I don't know how to describe this life of mine.

Up and down. Crazy and mundane. Days where I don't sit down and days when Im almost comatose.

Women.

That word is so complex, as we all are.
Love rules us. It defines our lives. Wether it is love of a child or that of a man. woman.
Or both.

Emma sleeps behind me on our couch. Her fingers curled next to her chin. Her hair is tangled and fanned out around her, she softly snores.

I look at my daughter and wonder what kind of a women she will become. I wonder who she will love and wether she will be a natural mother.

I hope that I will pass enough strength and love of self onto her. I hope that she is smart and confident.

Each day she grows, and each lesson she learns will help build her into the kind of woman she becomes.

She is surrounded by women. Myself, Aunty Dawn, Aunty Melanie, Aunty Jen.

She never ever see's her Auntie 'shoe' (Cyn) But she never forgets her and has her pictures taped on her pink princess wall.



I am interested in relationships. I am curious if anyone truely lives happily ever after. I feel I should study and learn...so that I can teach Emma.

I have this love for Dustin that is immense, and full and perfect...and I worry and wonder if that will change?

Will it always go away?

I listen to friends..and friends of friends confide. I am a listener and so I listen. And ingest. And realise.

How hard love is. How confusing women are. How complex our hearts are.

I have noticed that women who want simple things in love, are the happiest. Women who understand that nobody is perfect, "and anyway...if he WAS perfect..how boring would he be!"
But these women are confident and are far and few between.


We are seldom raised to pray and meditate and nurture love of ourselves, before we do it for others.

We want to grow quickly...reproduce naturally..and marry.
Done and done.

My parents had an emotianally tireing marriage. As a child I saw it as chaos. Now as an adult I can see it for what it was.

I wanted what I never had as a child. Security. I wanted a home. Someplace happy and stressfree. I wanted everyday to be the same and I wanted to infuse my children with security and love.

I did right by my children, but did a great disservice to Myself anf Christopher. Marrying for all the wrong reasons. Staying married for the same ones.

Luckily when we divorced our children became even happier. Luckily Toph and I are friends and our children have stayed first and formost...the important ones.


Even the most self assured, self made woman can fall in love and immediatly become an astounding idiot.

It happens the world over. We see it in our bestfriends and again in our sisters. We fall in love and the sun shines out of thier asses. They sleep and you when you wake you smile at the small bit of drool on thier pillow. You think its cute and perfect. They always smell nice and when they kiss you, your tummy flutters.

One year later... your scrubbing the pillows and cursing the idiot who drools when they sleep. Huffing at them when they want another kiss and waiting with baited breath for them to leave for work.

Women, albiet not everyone mind you, are in love ...with love.

Falling into it and announcing it into the world.

Telling their friends all about the stupid little things they do that make you happy. Giggeling over the nickname he calls you and secretly planning your firstborns name.

In reality your friends grunt and sigh when you go on about him, because they have been married for 5 years and know that in 2 more you will be asking him to PLEASE stop calling you pookiebutt in front of the kids.

Don't get me wrong dear readers, I am madly in love. So much so that I grumble about it.

I loved being single and talkig about what idiots married people were. But, as usual, Karma hits and I fall head over flips in love with a man much too young, who's skin smells like sunshine.

It's life. It's fucked up. And I find myself doing things that I swore I never would. Why?
Why is that? Why do women compromise themselves for love?

Is it, as a friend suggested to me, in our genetic makeup? Are we hardwired to procreate? Is there a scientific reason for the butterflies and the blinders?

I have heard men say that we women are crazy. That we cannot be pleased. That women, in general are confused.

Do I agree with them? Hell yes.

We are crazy.

This situation is a TRUE situation that a couple shared with me.

'Ruby' asks her man to run to a resteraunt and pick up her togo order. He gets dressed and does. When she recives it the following conversation ACTUALLY happened.

"IT HAS GRAVY!"
she screeched

"Yes..it does." he replied

"HOW can you bring me gravy. Did i ASK you to get me mashed potatoes AND gravy?!?!"

By now her heart has accelerated. Her cheeks are flushed and she wants to kill him.

"Did you ask me NOT to get you gravy?" He yells back. Angry that he just went all the way across town and she cannot even say thank you.

"DO YOU EVER see me eating GRAVY on my fucking potatoes?!!"


Her husband stares at her. He is confused and pissed off. He knows that if he says yes she will call him a liar. If he says no then she will yell more and demand an apology.

He is silent.

This pisses her off.

She screams somemore and with much imphasis, she throws the potatoes in the garbage.

Which pisses him off, since HE paied for those potatoes.

"YOu ordered it. I didn't. I didn't order your fucking potatoes. You asked me to pick them up and I did. How is this my fault?! I can NEVER make you happy."

Which is right. He can't.

Neither one stops and realises that they are fighting over a vegitable.
Now this may just be that they are a crazy couple doomed for love, but i can say, quite honestly, that I once went balistic over a cheeseburger.

The happiest relationship that I know of to date would have to be that of my ex-coteacher and her wife. They are a happy, real life couple. Married for 5 years together for something like 12.

When we all go out my co-teacher drinks and dances and has fun, she can get crazy...but there in the background is her wife. Always smiling...calm. Happy. They have dogs and an amazing friendship.

Real.

My friend Jodee is getting married soon and she is madly in love. This is both of their second marriage.We tease Jodee because she thinks the raises and sets in Daves eyes.

I watch them together when I can. And I have come to conclusion that these people are real lifers. They have both made mistakes in life and just THRILL in love.

They are happy about it. They are thankful for it. They realise how fucked up life can be and just revel in each other.

How great is that? How great is this love. It beams off of them and if people scoff and make fun, it is because they themselves are jelous. They want that, or used to have that.


If you have no blinders, and you see that he drools...you don't think he's a god because of it. But you see the drool and you love him because of it.

If you accept another human being despite the one too many beers or the arm hair picking.  If you revel in the fact that you both are alive and in love and it feels good.
And life is not perfect. Love is not perfect...so lets just be unperfect together.

Then just how lovely is that?

The big "J" *ARCHIVE* May 2009

I need to find Jesus.

Last night I was 80 percent sure..This morning while sitting at the arco pump, I was 100 percent sure.

MeLinda is gone and my duties this week enclude leaving early and picking up babies, dropping off kids and coming back home.

I drove up to their house, buckled all of the beasts in and Toph met me at the window.

"How's your van running?"
He asked

"Amazing."
I replied, although I have been a nervous wreck since it's been fixed, convinced that, at the slightest sneeze, it will break down again.

The kids were loaded and I buckled myself.. "Thanks Beanie. You are a Queen."

I nodded to him in my most Queenly ' I am wearing no bra ' manner and my foot hit the gas.

Speaking of Gas, I had to stop for some, so Toph instructed me to go to Arco.

I did.

I sent Alyssa in to pay and I pumped.

The twins were singing and Sammy was snapping and unsnapping is seatbelt as I got back inside my van.

"Sammy. Buckle up or I will tie you to the roof."


His eyes got big and I heard his belt click...one last time.

Alyssa laughed and I smiled at her...and turned my key.

Nothing happened. I tried again, simply because you have too.

Same thing.

"Oh my GOD." I stated. Instead of "Fuck" which i really wanted too.

I looked around. Picked up my phone, which is really Shanes phone because I havent payed my phone bill yet...

Which means Dustin was un-reachable.

I dialed Toph. "Help! Help! You cursed me! Im stuck! My van won't start!" I squealed.

I think the only reason he understood me was because of the 13 years of experience he has beneath his belt.

My natural instinct was to blame it on him asking about my van, instead of blaming myself. (It's easier that way)

"I'll be right there."


I was at pump number 4 and people were waiting to get gas. I waved my arms out the window in which was CLEARLY a "My van is broken down!" movement.

Toph came, checked everything, fiddled with the battery a bit and finally had to abandon the twins and I to get Sammy and Alyssa to school on time.

I sat there, with my hood up until he came back.

Man after man walked by, glanced under the hood...and kept walking.

Soon enough my Ire was up.
(don't you just love that word? I've been waiting to use it for weeks)

Anywho..I was angry and getting more so by every man that walked by...in too much of a hurry to help.

I called Melanie.

"Remember how last night I expressed my need to find Jesus?"
She laughed "Yes."

"I am now certain that i need the Lord. I am sitting at Arco pump number 4 with twins in the backseat and penis after penis walking by! No one's helping! I need Jesus. Tell me where I can find him."


She laughed "Love. Jesus has never left. You have."

"I have NOT left. Im at pump number 4. Pray to Jesus for me."


I grabbed my camera out of my purse and climbed halfway out of my van, phone firmly pressed between my shoulder and ear. "You aren't helping me!" *snap* "You aren't helping me!" *snap*

"What are you doing?"
Melanie questioned. Calm, but with a giggle in her voice. "I AM TAKING PICTURES OF ALL OF THESE MEN NOT HELPING ME!" I announced rather loudly.

"I mean I know that Im wearing capris with a hole at my hip, and wearing no underwear doesn't help. I have no bra on and no makeup and I was in too much of a hurry to shower this morning.. *snap* i really look like crap. I KNOW THIS! BUT...my daddy would have helped me. ANYONE in the country would help me...I have twins in the backseat and they are hungry. *snap* When I tell them to swallow their spit they look at me crazy. Men keep walking by and ignoring my need to a jump. or whatever it's called...I need Jesus. Yes. I do. You have been right all along...okay? *snap* My dad would be so PISSED at me for this. He would come here in his Morman garb and annoit me in oil. I know it..."

"Calm down."


"Huh?" *snap* too busy catching men on film.

"Calm down. Tophs coming back and you will be okay. I love you......"

I hear a laugh to my left. A woman is standing there filling up her shiney car...listening to my conversation...(Really..how could she not?) She is dressed all in pink and she is as fluffy as me. I smile at her. Because she is happy.

"Can I help you? I could at least push you over to the shade."


"You will help me?! Thank you Jesus. See? Hey Melanie!! This beautiful woman is helping me. Have I told you lately how amazing women are?"


She laughed and hung up.

I turned to the godess. "Whaddoido?"

"Put it in Nuteral. and I'll push you over there."


"Kay." So I did. (After she showed me how) And then I realised my power steering was out. "eeeeek!" I screeched as I turned my van. A red mustang came up and a tall black man got out. He ran over to help.

"I don't want to hit your car. eeeeeeee!"

He laughed. "You won't! You won't! Keep turning. TURN TURN!"
He had a deep voice.

"I have no powersteering! I am fat and not as muscly as my arms look!"

He laughed. "Oh yeah No powersteering! That sucks!" he kept pushing. I steered. Parked and Thanked my two helpers.

"What is your name?" I asked the lady in pink as she turned away. My tall man was already gone.

"Kim!"

"Thank you Kim! When I find Jesus I will pray for you!"


Her head fell back as she laughed.

(p.S) Toph figured out what was wrong. The twins now have Cherrios in their tummies instead of just spit.)

In shock. *ARCHIVE* June 2009

Last night i tazed myself, completely on accident. Dustin was showing me how to use it, explained the switches..SWEARS he told me not to grab the sides...I SWEAR he did not.

(It looks like a flashlight)

So we were on the porch, smoking our too expensive cigarettes when for no reason at all I grabbed the Tazer....not the end, just put my hand around it.

A shock went up my left arm and into my neck.

It didn't hurt...really. It was an odd feeling, one I am not sure was even horrible.

My first thought was "Hey!! Is my bells palsy gone?!" I smiled and then frowned when I realized it was not.
Meanwhile, Dustin was checking my palm, arm and neck, clucking under his breath and asking if I was alright.

I was.

But I cringed, just so he would worry a tad bit longer.

It didn't work. He frowned at me.

"I TOLD you not to touch it like that! Why did you do that? You could have been hurt......" After that I just watched his lips move, while Charlie Browns teacher spewed out of his mouth

"Muah muah MUAH muah...."


His lips moved, he hovered .... and all I kept thinking was "That light blue shirt looks amazing on him.."

I nodded and murmured.

I pouted twice.

He has two gray hairs now, which makes me happy.
He blames them on me, which....makes me happier.

His back hurts now too...he thinks he is old.

He just turned 23.