My 2014 Resolutions

I suppose it's time to make another list of resolutions for the upcoming new year. My list has been pretty much the same since I was 14 years old-lose weight, stop worrying, stop being afraid, blah, blah, blah. You know what? I've never kept a single damn one of them. That my friends is 21 years of breaking new year's resolutions. So here is my resolution for this year.

Fuck all resolutions.

Seriously, they're all bullshit. Does anyone ever really keep them? Here and there I've worked on a few with varying degrees of success, but I can't say I've ever went from the end of a year to the beginning of another with the sense of accomplishment that everything from my previous list had been checked off. Lose weight? I figure I fluctuate between skinny Kelly Clarkson and curvier Kelly Clarkson. I think she always looks amazing, therefore, I do too. :)  As long as I don't start to look like Honey Boo Boo's long lost aunt, I'm ok. Stop worrying? Depends on what dose of anti anxiety meds I'm on at the time. Some days I'm loosey goosey, some days I'm wound so tight my head damn near explodes. Stop being afraid? That's probably not going to happen because I am a Class A chicken shit. If there's a bump in the night I hear it, and I kick Ryan to wake up to go check it out. Do you know what could be in the dark??? This girl won't be the one to find out!

That is why my New Year's Resolution is to say fuck it. I don't need the undue pressure. Of course there are certain things I'd love to see happen in 2014. I have a goal to send out copies of my book to agents. Even if I get nothing back but rejection letters I have to take that step to get it out there. I also hope to get a larger following of my blog.  I'd love to reconnect with old friends. It's nice to catch up on Facebook but it's even better to see people in person. I'd also love to quit being a worrywart, but with Joshua entering middle school in the fall we all know that shit ain't happening. The only resolution I can make and have certainty that I will accomplish it is this.

I'm going to be happy.

Happy New Year everyone!!

Here We Go Again

I  constantly worry if I'm doing the parenting thing right. Having a child with autism compounds that worry. Today we had to go back to the doctor to see about trying medication (again) to help with the mood swings and the ADHD. We've been down this road before and quite honestly, it was HELL so my worry is kicked into over drive right now.

Last school year we tried two medications. One made Joshua fall asleep in class everyday and the other didn't help the mood swings, it made them 100 times worse. He would go from a sweet, lovable little guy to a raging beast in a second. He cried all the time that he hated the way the meds made him feel and we decided that it didn't matter to us if he got called down everyday in school for being fidgety or talking, we would not make him live miserable all the time. We agreed that if his grades began to suffer we would revisit the idea. Unfortunately, that is where we are right now.

The doctor assured me this medication is not a stimulant and the side effects would be minimal. I was scared to death to tell Joshua that we were going to try a new medicine. I just knew a massive meltdown was headed our way and I was prepared. I calmly explained that this new medicine wouldn't be at all like the other ones; it wouldn't make him sleepy, angry, sad, etc.

My son looked at me with those big brown eyes and said very seriously " will it make me poop rainbows? sprout wings and fly away?" And then he turned around and went back to building his tower.

My first thought was "what a little smartass!" then I was insanely proud of his quick wit. ( he totally gets that from me;) ) Overall I felt relief. With a sense of humor like that, nothing will get my boy down.

Sometimes I feel like I'm doing the parenting thing right.

The Easy Years

As I sat here tonight trying to make a new household budget, one thing kept repeating through my head.

Being an adult is total bullshit.

Seriously, this is what I was in such a damn hurry for?! There's never anything pleasant in the mailbox, just bills. Laundry is a vicious cycle of funk that never ends. The demands never stop rolling in and just when you think you're ahead of the game you get knocked flat on your ass.  Work is a necessary evil. I sure as hell don't want to do it, but unless I hit the Mega Millions jackpot tonight I have no choice. It seems like there is never enough time or money and I am continually stressing myself to make it work. And it almost always does.



I'm not bitching or moaning about life. Life is wonderful. My family has everything they need and most of what they want. No one is hungry, cold, or going without. For that I am eternally grateful and feel incredibly blessed. I'm just daydreaming about a simpler time. A time when going to work meant I got to hang out with my some of my best friends at Dairy Queen, my paycheck only had to be used to put gas in my car and pay the bill for my pager (yes, I had a pager. It was electric blue and was the total shit) and I didn't have a real care in the world.

My point is I wish I hadn't taken those days for granted. You only get so much time to be carefree and every moment should be enjoyed. I'm going to save this and let my kids read it when they're teenagers and they're complaining about how hard it is to be 16, 17 or however old they are at the time. I doubt they'll learn a huge lesson from it but maybe it will make them not wish the easy years away.

Mom AKA "The Fun Killer"

My kid is on a roll when it comes to knocking my self esteem. One day after telling me I have "soccer mom" hair he tells me that he thinks I disapprove of fun. I'm a "fun killer". I was so shocked I was speechless! That almost never happens! Me, not fun?! I can't lie, it hurt my feelings. If  I'm a fun killer what will I be called next? Will my husband call me a boner shrinker? Not that he would, but fun killer was the kid equivalent.

I don't think he meant it the way it sounded. The truth of the matter is I'm the more serious parent and Ryan is the fun one. While Ryan will body slam the kids on the bed, I'm the one screaming "watch their necks!" If they play outside I'm constantly looking out the window to see what they're doing. They scream with delight when Ryan drives on country roads and speeds down a hill so they get the drop feeling in their tummies. I, on the other hand, hang onto the oh shit handles for dear life and pray that I don't throw up all over the car. But I don't think those things make me un-fun.

I know I need to lighten up. I'm really trying. I have OCD and anxiety disorder, trying to lighten up is easier said than done. When my kids are grown I want them to look back and say they had fun with their mom. I might have to close my eyes, double up on meds and bubble wrap them in order to do it, but I'll do what needs to be done.

Out of the Mouths of Babes...

A few days ago I got brave and got over my fear of looking like big headed Charlie Brown and chopped my hair off into a pixie. I freaking love it. It makes me feel like a fucking rock star.  Aside from my ears freezing I've felt pretty damn good about how it looks.

And then my kid almost ruins it.

We're driving down the road, Joshua's sitting behind me. Out of the blue he says " Mommy, from the back your hair looks like a soccer mom. But the front makes you look totally pretty."

What the hell?!?! A soccer mom??

Technically, I am a soccer mom, I have a kid who plays soccer. But I don't look like one! I don't wear mom jeans that are belted up to my boobs with my shirt tucked in down to my knees! I don't drive a minivan! I've always been super proud of the changes I make with my hair and this little observation stung a bit. The quickly added "the front makes you pretty" didn't help.

 I need to have a long talk with my son about "things you don't say to women". Number one-NEVER tell her she looks fat, even is she asks and number two-Never tell her that her rocking new haircut makes her look like a soccer mom. If the boy doesn't start learning these lessons now I foresee a dateless future ahead of him.

In the meantime I'm going to dye my hair hot pink and get some visible tattoos and hope the "soccer mom" label washes off.

Plot Twist!

I've been down lately and I've done more than my share of bitching about it. Time to put on my big girl panties and get over it. I read a thing on Facebook the other day that said " when something in your life goes wrong yell PLOT TWIST!! and move on".

PLOT TWIST!! I've moving on!

I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Everyone we meet touches us in some way and there are no mistakes, just chances to learn and improve. I'm ready to fully embrace that and I can't wait to see what is in store for me. No more second guessing or lying around crying woe is me. Balls to the wall, baby!

I'm recommitting myself to working on my book. No more jotting down ideas on post it notes and the backs of old receipts, I will dedicate time to typing it out each night. The perfect idea for it came to me tonight and I am fully inspired. It will never get published if I don't put it out there. I will enter contests, send queries to agents, and write just about anything to get my name out there. No one's going to do it for me.

This entire time I've been searching for my mojo and it's been staring me in the damn face. Writing is my mojo. Making people laugh is my mojo. Holy shit, it's like I'm Dorothy and I just woke up back in Kansas .It makes me want to bitch slap myself for wasting time with the poor, pitiful Pearl act. That wouldn't do any good though and I really don't want to slap myself.

Now that I have had this moment of clarity I am going to lie in bed and read something that always makes inspires me:"Bossypants" by Tina Fey. I hope to one day be as funny a writer as she is. Screw the hoping, I WILL be as funny one day. Maybe more. :)

December 19, 2002

It's almost that time! Christmas is 22 days away but that's not what I'm talking about. Joshua's birthday is the week before Christmas. He will be eleven years old. I'm slightly freaking out about it but not because my baby is growing up.

Because it makes me feel older than shit!

I was 24 when I had Joshua. When I think back to being 24 it feels like a lifetime ago but at the same time he's grown up so fast. Faster than I would have liked. Although I insisted on as many drugs as they could give me during labor, I still remember so many details.

I was induced at 6 am on December 18th, 2002 and Joshua didn't appear until 3:02 pm on the 19th. That was 33 very long, very tiring, and very miserable hours of labor. I remember lying in bed, in absolute agony with back pain and asking my dear husband to rub my back. Bless his heart, he got right to it, then I noticed he started to slow down. Then he stopped completely. I rolled my massive body over to see what he was doing and my hand to God he stopped rubbing my back, while I was in labor  with his big headed spawn, because he was watching a doughnut eating contest on tv.

A fucking doughnut eating contest! I'm told this was the first of many times in that time frame that my head began to spin like the Exorcist and profanities flew from my mouth. Maybe that's when my potty mouth was also born. I don't know. All I know is that one should never, ever, for any reason stop rubbing their laboring wife's back when she is trying to get push almost 8lbs of tiny human out of her hoo ha. (Btw, 2 years later when Natalie was born, he did much better ;) )

Another fond memory of that day was our friend Monte walking into the room while my feet were up in the stir ups and all my modesty and patience was long forgotten. I remember very clearly screaming " Get out you fucking idiot!!" while Ryan ran to the door. Poor guy. He had no clue, but you can bet your ass he hasn't entered a room without knocking since then!

The best memory of course was holding my baby boy for the first time. Nothing compares to the first time you hold your baby. December 25th is great, but December 19th will always be better. Happy early birthday, Joshua. Mommy loves you.

It's My Party and I'll Bitch if I Want To

 Bear with me, friends. I'm having a bit of a pity party at the moment. It happens to us all at one moment or another and now it's my turn.

In the past month I've been to numerous doctors, been in some very uncomfortable positions in some very cold exam rooms, and paid co pays out the ass. For what? Not an answer or some relief from the pain that's for damn sure!! I am seriously frustrated at this point with the lack of a diagnosis and I fear this could drag out for a very long time like it did when I was sick with gall bladder issues. It took a full freaking year to be diagnosed with gallstones and I literally started to think it was all in my mind before the problem was found. I know I can be bat shit crazy, but I'm not insane!

I am truly heartbroken about the school situation. It finally felt like it was my time to complete my degree and now that it's not going to happen I'm beyond bummed out. Graduating from college has always felt like something I was supposed to do and I'm disappointed in myself that I haven't done it. I can rationalize it any way I want too; I don't need a degree to be a writer, I have a job that pays well and has good benefits, a degree is just a piece of paper, etc. But the truth is I want that damn piece of paper with my name on it and without it, I'm trapped in my current job because I have no other skills.

Another thing. I miss roller derby. I miss it so much that even though I realistically know I can't go back, I refuse to part with my skates. I just can't do it. Getting rid of them would make not going back all to real and I don't want to think about it. I miss how strong it made me feel, how powerful, and how bad ass. It was physically the hardest thing I've ever done, and there were plenty of times I cried from frustration and pain. But I still wanted to do it. I still want to do it. Unfortunately I just can't make it fit into my life. The mom guilt is just too much for me, and I'm the worst at making myself feel guilty. I need to find that "thing" that makes me feel that good about myself again. I need to find my mojo.

I know I have a shit ton of things to be grateful for and I count my blessing daily. I have not forgotten or lost sight of anything. But dammit, some days you just want to throw your head back and scream at the top of your lungs. So here it goes- "FUCK, FUCK, FUCKITY, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK IT ALL!!!!!!"

There. That's a little better. Not much, but it's a start. Night, y'all.