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.

"how was your day?"

Every day I get home and my very old man asks me how my day was.

My children ask me if I had a good day, and even the hairy ex-beast asks.

My response is usually "It was a good day."
I respond that way because it would simply take too long to TRULY answer.

My day started off at 6:20 am, with the alarm screaming at me.

Coffee THEN pee....then the normal stuff around the house.

When I get to work the children hug me, I sidestep snotty noses to reach for the tissue box.
At 8:40 I am proudly shoving a piece of paper into a parents hands. The family is from France, and I had typed up and translated the letter.

She nods and smiles, and I ask if it is understandable. She said yes, and that makes me happy.

By 10'oclock I am getting shoes thrown at me. BEFORE the metal chairs but AFTER the entire cabinet of play food.

For 40 minutes I stand in homeliving and ask a 3 year old to clean up his mess, and then I will consider giving him the shoes he threw at me.

He freaks again, and starts tugging jackets off of the hangers and chucking them at my feet.
It is time to radio for backup.

I leave the child in the hands of my boss and head outside, where a little boy runs up to me, his face soaking wet. " Jacob Spit water in my face!"

He is properly agast....as am I.

"Waitaminute..." I question. "All of this water is from him spitting?!?!" I won't lie, I sorta shrieked. (Alot of times, children will stick their face INTO the water faucet..I dunno why, it's a kid thing.)


"Yes." He nods.

I call the spit child over and question him. I give him props for being honest but hint (In front of the spitee) "How would you like it if Angelo filled his mouth with water and spit it in YOUR face?!"

The kids laughs.... And nods....I sigh.

2.5 minutes later said kid's face is dripping with water, his face is shocked...I guess the spitee got the hint I dropped.

It is only 11:00.

For lunch today we served Fish sticks, brown rice, fruit medly, green beans and milk.
I hate fish, even if it is chopped up and compressed.

I cannot watch the children eat, but apparently they decide to litter my classroom floor with the rice, which is never fun to sweep.

During lunch, I sit with the children and they serve them selves. They are talking about superheros, and I piss off at least two when I mock Iron mans skills.

I raise my arm and wobble it back and forth. "See this children?"

They nod.

I whip my arm by fast, and my arm fat wobbles. "This could knock you out FLAT...I have wicked defense skills."

The four year olds look quite impressed and I am pleased.


The children settle on their cots and I sit down to TRY to think of "D" words that I can draw....but all i can think of are:


Dammit
Dingleberry
Douche
Dick
&
Divorce.

I finally settle on Diamonds, Dots, Dawn, Disneyland, Dogs and Dollars.
I quickle decorate my giant "D"s that will hang from my ceiling.

During nap (For which I am an EXTREAM nap nazi) I listen to a schoolager sing....over and over again. I "Shhhhh!!!" her until the table is covered with spittle, but to no avail.

After nap I start to give breaks, One child insists that he is not a robot boy, when I insist that he is.

He finally convinces me, by lifting up his pants and showing me that he has bones and not metal parts. I am properly impressed by this three year old and so I huff to his approval "FINE! Your not a robot boy!" and I stomp off.

I speak to 4 concerned parents, one of them the mom of the boy who hurled things at me for an hour.
I love this parent. we converse about her sons anger issues. Sierra Vista will be contacted. She is worried. I hug her and tell her "we will get through this."


During snack I write on the window separating my room from the two's. Dawn walks by and is properly impressed by my mad backwards writing skills.

At 3:30 my favorite parent comes in limping. She has a growth and will have surgery. I give her a squish and ask her to call me to help with her kids. She agree's but only after we double pinky promise.

 By 4:00 I am outside, giving breaks to two teachers. The pre-teenagers rush twords me and line up to question my magic 8 ball that I always keep in my apron.

Every single girl asks if a boy likes her, and my 8 ball is brutally honest.

10 minutes later a spelling test is shoved in my face by a ten year old. "100% MRS BEANIE!!!!!!"

I turn on my heel and get my treasure box down for her.

She is pleased, and chooses a mini notebook. He sister asks for one too. I replied "Show me the money."
She huffs..... Which makes me sorta happy.

Over the next 35 minutes I find two missing hoodies, one lost incident report, change two poopy preschoolers (just cuz I love Ginny)....and make 3 parents laugh...


Before I leave a co-teacher states that she makes better enchiladas then I do. "I must" she says "I am mexican!!!!"

I hop and huff and shake my finger. I call her a "BEAST!" and throw down the "Enchilada-off" gauntlet.

At 5:30 I pick up my honken cup of water and leave the building.

By 5:45 I am home and everyone wonders how my day was.

"It was good." I reply.

"D" Man

D-man is two and half feet tall, and three years old.
His shoes ALWAYS match his sweater vests/designer T-shirts.....And he is INCREDIBLY cute.

The first moment I met him, I looked down and said (like I do to most newbies)
"Hey...whats up? what is your name?"
He replied, with a quirk to his mouth "D-man. I do NOT talk to ugly girls..only pretty ones."
I Laughed and looked up to one of my co-teachers "Didja hear that? No ugly chicks."
She laughed and stared down at him.

You see D-Man exudes life. He radiates energy....and knowledge of entirely too much.


"So...If you don't talk to ugly chicks what do you think of me?"
I posed for him and batted my eyelashes.

"ohhhhhh YOU got pretty eyes....pretty eyes."

"I DO huh!?" This 33 year old, gushed.


"Yeah..ya do. And I will marry YOU. Miss Kelly (our cook)...she's my girlfriend because she cooks for me. But YOU...I'll marry you pretty eyes."

"Kay." I agreed and turned to get back to work.

Later I decided to quiz my hubby to be (...In....oh 27 years or so?)
"So what do you want to do with your life D-Man? What are your goals and ambitions?"

"well...." He seemed to consider it very seriously... "I wanna be like Lil Wayne. I wanna rip my shirt off and drink alcohol." He nodded twice to assure me of his seriousness.

I thought for sure I had heard him wrong. The word "Alcohol" we do not hear in the land of learning.

"Didja say Alcohol just now?"

"Yeeeeah I did. I wanna go to clubs and drink alcohol. I wanna dance and rip my shirt off..You know, Like LIL wayne."

Uh oh....I thought. This is not good.


"How in the heck do you know about alcohol?" I just had to ask. My word ...the kid is THREE!

"well my mama be drinking alcohol! She be daaaancin and laughing with her friends."

He rode off on his three wheel trike, but i quickly pulled him back.

"I'm sorry to sadden you, but you CANNOT grow up, drink alcohol and rip your shirt off."

"Whaaaaat?!" He exclaimed. (You could tell that i wicked insulted him just then.)

"Nope." I shook my head and crossed my arms.


"WHY Pretty eyes. Why you tellin me I can't be like Lil Wayne?!?!"


"Because. You are going to grow up and be a well educated Gentleman. You will go to college, get an amazing education and get a job that pays you three figures. Then you will pay all of your mommas bills."

"I am?!!!" He shouted


"You are."

"You sure, pretty eyes?"

"Perfectly sure. I know EVERYTHING...that's why I wear this wicked awesome apron."

"Awe man!" ....and he peddled away

At the beginning of this week His mom dropped him off, she was smiling. "WHAT have you done to my baby?!"

I gave her the "I dontknowwhatthehellyourtalkingaboutcrazywoman!" ...look that we perfected at Kinder care college.

"What do you mean?" I asked quite calmly

"He wakes up EVERYDAY at 6am JUST to come to school. He hated going to his other school...He loves it here."

I smiled. We hear this a lot. We ARE an amazing group of educators you know.

"Well...who can blame him. We're amazing."

She smiled and nodded. "Yes you are."

Best thing about today 9/23

Best thing about today is:

Tomorrow is Friday.

It's almost payday.

My Co-teacher will not be at work today :( .....But I will super clean our room and try to get alot done so when she comes back she will be wicked cute and squeaky... :)

I get to see my tall freckly giraffe.

The players....

I want to introduce to you all of the players in my world, so in future writing you will know exactly of whom I speak.

This is me:

My name is Laurie, but no one really calls me that. At a later date perhaps I will explain how I got the name Beanie, but that is what I go by.

I am 33 years old and the mother of two amazing children. Sometimes I am so amazed by my witty smart children that I want to start spitting kids out of my vagina like watermelon seeds, simply to populate the world with Pure Happiness.

I am single, but still stuck on my ex boyfriend who is basically a very tall ass. It doesn't matter what I do, I keep coming back to him. It sucks, but that is where that is.

I have tried to get interested in other men, but basically all men are douches.

I love rainbows, and happy earrings. I work at a child care facility and I absolutely love my job.

I drive a very lumpy car. Her name is Pearly. Right now Pearly is in my driveway sick, because...well...she cost 600 bucks and that's what happens.

This is Shane. A.K.A Foofy, The foofinator, Sonshine, or turdknuckle, (depending on my mood that day)



Shane is 15 years old, and I'm in love with him. He loves video games, Drama class and now foreign language class (He's taking Russian)

He makes me smile every day, and he has a wicked sense of humor. He is the best thing I ever did as a teenager.

This is Emma.She is 8. She loves to accessorize and she is practically a genius....(okay she is)
She is the best snuggler in the world and she loves every animal. She wants to grow up and rescue them....I told her to grow up .....and become a MODEL who rescues animals....she is still thinking about it.

I live with my ex-husband, which, is weird. But it is working, for now.
Chris was in a relationship for three years and uh.....now he's not. So i offered him our daughters pink room to shack up in until he can get on his feet.

This is my very own old man (be jealous!)
I love him. His name is Roger, but I call him Kent. This really is just a cartoon...I don't have any snapshots yet. Plus Kent is truly much happier.

He is amazing, and I hope I get to keep him forever.

My BFF is Dawn:She is very freckly, happy and tall. We have been Best Friends for like 5 years and I would DIE without her.
Dawn once hurled herself out of a window to save my daughters life. I wish i could say that she flew through the air and landed in a garbage truck with Emma curled safely in her arms, but it was just on the same level....Not as good of a story.

When she is annoyed at me, she shoves the scar on her hand in my face and kicks my shin.
(not really)

I call her my freckly Giraffe sometimes and she has the most amazing laugh....ever.

I wish that Dawn had a Penis, cuz then all of our boy problems would be solved and we'd just shack up, have 5 kids and grow old together.

As it is, we both love penises, and she loves Jesse...

I love him too. He takes care of me, because its in his job description. Everywhere we go its us three....

Sometimes Jesse and I fight over Dawns love and attention...
But then Dawn smacks us both until we love each other again.

So there ya go......The MAIN players. I will introduce others as I go along. I hope you enjoy my life. Its truly not very exciting, but for some reason people laugh at me when I speak. *shrug*