Child support is a good thing. It helps children maintain a decent lifestyle when paid and calculated properly. For the last four years the amount of child support I received for my four children was minimal. In fact it was so minimal, that I got more for my son with another man than I did for our four children combined. However, I'm not the one that should be ashamed of that.
Two weeks ago, I was informed that their father was walking away. I was and still would be completely fine with this. I have always picked up the slack and I always will. The children are not obligations, but rather choices. They didn't get to pick me for a mother. They got what they got, so I want to the best one possible. Upon learning in child support court that he would get a visitation credit in child support court for seeing them, he decided he does "want to" see them even more than he had been. However, he still doesn't want his weeknight....no surprise he doesn't get credit for that.
For him the numbers that matter are the ones in his bank account. I also have a bank account. The bills get paid. We live another day. The amount that got us there isn't important.
The numbers that matter for me are these:
9-18-03, 5-25-06, 6-11-07 & 10-14-10 my children's birthdays in order. Also 11, 8, 8, 7 & 4, my children's ages. These numbers have been written incorrectly on five court documents from him since our divorce.
9.4 Sydney's personal best floor routine score and got her her first first place in a gymnastics meet. And 8.6 Skye's first first at her second ever meet on vault.
25 the number of meals Chris knows how to cook well.
3 the number of best friends Manda has at school, and 1 the number of boyfriends she's had since kindergarten.
4 Austin's favorite number and his age. He points to it everywhere we go.
5 the minimum number of times the kids eat at my house in a day. 2 the number of times they are allowed to eat per day at their dad's.
$1 the amount of food that was bought for each of them at McDonald's by their dad. $80 the amount of money he spent on a brand new coat for himself the same night. Free the amount of money I spent on a hand me down winter coat for myself from a friend.
$129 the amount of money I need to buy Chris the bike he really wants. My bike is invisible....being able to ride with them instead of jogging isn't as important as them having bikes.
7 the amount of outfits in my closet that currently fit me and do not have stains. 32 the number of outfits each of my children currently have for each season.
9 months the length of time we have been without a dryer bc the money I saved for a new one went to repair the van and my girls aren't giving up gymnastics.
3 the number of medicines Skye is on to maintain her asthma. 29 the age her dad started smoking knowing he had an asthmatic child.
0 the number of jobs he has to support the children. $10 the amount of money the children made selling their personal belongs door to door without supervision in a strange city he took from them. And lastly 6, the number of times the school has called dcs on him.
Oh and 6 the number of months I didn't expose any of this to the world.
See the difference between me and him as my kids numbers come first. Their successes, their meals, their clothes, the amount of days they live without great of being treated bio better than animals....those are my concerns. I shouldn't have to concern myself with their safety and threats from the woman he chose over them, but I do. I have to. No one else is.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Monday, April 20, 2015
How my daughter's school accidentally hurt her body image
It's that time of year again, you know it well. It's the one when women try on 23 bathing suits in a vain attempt to make their fat look less fat, or at least camouflage it like a hunter hunting a deer. In my case it's comparable to the feeling of trying to hide a whale on the beach. Either way, kids at my children's school also go swimming at the high school for two weeks during third grade.
I was very blessed with two beautiful third grade twin daughters. They say fraternal twins are no more alike than normal sisters. I disagree. Mine are less alike than normal sisters. Manda is 51 minutes older and she never lets anyone forget that. She was also born with a large birthmark that looks oddly like her sisters foot that she never wants anyone to see, so she has always preferred a one piece suit. So her time to swim came, and went. She excelled and was invited to swim team, no big deal.
Then there was Sydney. Sydney is not just an 8 year old. She thinks beyond her years, highly inquisitive, very mature. She is also an xcel silver level gymnast who has never had a problem putting on a leotard and practicing a couple times a week, or competing in front of a crowd. Since she's been potty trained, my athletic daughter has worn a bikini to swim, or just wear at home because, well, I let her. She is toned with abs that I'm jealous of and muscles in her legs many adults aspire to. Never once have I dwelled on creepy old men that may potentially view her in unsavory fashion. She's eight. She's cute. Most importantly she's self confident.
So when my daughter brought home the swimming paper informing me that the cute sparkling Justice bikini she proudly bought last year with her birthday money was unacceptable attire, of course she asked why.
A million and twenty answers flashed before my eyes, but I failed to deem these acceptable. If I tell her about horny old men, she may lose trust in her teacher. If I tell her about third grade boys that don't pull her hair because she's too busy kicking their butts art athletics, her feelings may be hurt. If I tell her some of the chubby girls may get made fun of, she'll think be chubby is a reason to make fun of someone. So my answer was instantly, "I don't know."
She then informed me that they only make rules for a reason and there had to be one. I knew I was going to have to pick one. So I told her that maybe some girls would be nervous about wearing a bikini in front of other kids. I was so unprepared for her response. "That's silly mom. Why would anyone be nervous?" So of course it lead to the inevitable conversation about body image I had been avoiding....the one about unwanted body fat....the one about people that have no right to, judging you anyways.
Instantly, I saw my daughter, my previously innocent confident girl's blue eyes go dark. And inn a moment of sheer utter panic she dispersed. She emerged in her bikini of green and blue glitter and began pointing helplessly at non-existent sentiments of fat. I watched her jump up and down looking helplessly for anything that potentially slightly jiggled. Eventually, she found a tiny piece of extra skin on her upper thigh she could barely pinch. She began crying about that last soda she drank and something ridiculous about going on a diet.
While I was tying to be supportive (by not laughing) I hugged her and reassured her that she was still thin and beautiful and that if she could wear her bikini everyone would be jealous. Of course, she took it as they'd be jealous she bought her bikini at Justice, which lead to a whole other conversation later.
For the last week, I've watched my little princess focus on the mirror a lot more. I watched as she handed her favorite leotard to get sister in fear it made her look fat. I'm aware there are parents out there that are going to give me total backlash over not protecting my child from potential beach predators, yada, yada.
But plain and simple, we shouldn't be shattering self esteem. We shouldn't be compromising self-confidence out of fear. As parents, we have enough worries. Finances, work, eating right, all of our children's activities that the last thing we should have to address is explaining to our children that something may be wrong with their bodies. Unless a bikini is going to make my daughter drown, let her wear it. Let her be confident. Let her be little. Let her be amazing.
I was very blessed with two beautiful third grade twin daughters. They say fraternal twins are no more alike than normal sisters. I disagree. Mine are less alike than normal sisters. Manda is 51 minutes older and she never lets anyone forget that. She was also born with a large birthmark that looks oddly like her sisters foot that she never wants anyone to see, so she has always preferred a one piece suit. So her time to swim came, and went. She excelled and was invited to swim team, no big deal.
Then there was Sydney. Sydney is not just an 8 year old. She thinks beyond her years, highly inquisitive, very mature. She is also an xcel silver level gymnast who has never had a problem putting on a leotard and practicing a couple times a week, or competing in front of a crowd. Since she's been potty trained, my athletic daughter has worn a bikini to swim, or just wear at home because, well, I let her. She is toned with abs that I'm jealous of and muscles in her legs many adults aspire to. Never once have I dwelled on creepy old men that may potentially view her in unsavory fashion. She's eight. She's cute. Most importantly she's self confident.
So when my daughter brought home the swimming paper informing me that the cute sparkling Justice bikini she proudly bought last year with her birthday money was unacceptable attire, of course she asked why.
A million and twenty answers flashed before my eyes, but I failed to deem these acceptable. If I tell her about horny old men, she may lose trust in her teacher. If I tell her about third grade boys that don't pull her hair because she's too busy kicking their butts art athletics, her feelings may be hurt. If I tell her some of the chubby girls may get made fun of, she'll think be chubby is a reason to make fun of someone. So my answer was instantly, "I don't know."
She then informed me that they only make rules for a reason and there had to be one. I knew I was going to have to pick one. So I told her that maybe some girls would be nervous about wearing a bikini in front of other kids. I was so unprepared for her response. "That's silly mom. Why would anyone be nervous?" So of course it lead to the inevitable conversation about body image I had been avoiding....the one about unwanted body fat....the one about people that have no right to, judging you anyways.
Instantly, I saw my daughter, my previously innocent confident girl's blue eyes go dark. And inn a moment of sheer utter panic she dispersed. She emerged in her bikini of green and blue glitter and began pointing helplessly at non-existent sentiments of fat. I watched her jump up and down looking helplessly for anything that potentially slightly jiggled. Eventually, she found a tiny piece of extra skin on her upper thigh she could barely pinch. She began crying about that last soda she drank and something ridiculous about going on a diet.
While I was tying to be supportive (by not laughing) I hugged her and reassured her that she was still thin and beautiful and that if she could wear her bikini everyone would be jealous. Of course, she took it as they'd be jealous she bought her bikini at Justice, which lead to a whole other conversation later.
For the last week, I've watched my little princess focus on the mirror a lot more. I watched as she handed her favorite leotard to get sister in fear it made her look fat. I'm aware there are parents out there that are going to give me total backlash over not protecting my child from potential beach predators, yada, yada.
But plain and simple, we shouldn't be shattering self esteem. We shouldn't be compromising self-confidence out of fear. As parents, we have enough worries. Finances, work, eating right, all of our children's activities that the last thing we should have to address is explaining to our children that something may be wrong with their bodies. Unless a bikini is going to make my daughter drown, let her wear it. Let her be confident. Let her be little. Let her be amazing.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Trading Up
I once read an article about a man that turned a red paperclip into a house. He simply traded up over and over until the things he was trading were more and more valuable. He traded 14 times, the last time for a house. As I sit here today looking at my 10 loads of laundry and messy kitchen, it occurred to me that this is not how I pictured my life, but especially not the way I wanted my kids to live. Now I completely get I can get off my lazy ass and clean instead of blog, but as I was pondering this, I got an idea and I wanted to share it.
The other day I had a friend over and I told him he needed to turn a penny into an awesome present for me. Well what if my kids were able to complete their own dreams with just a penny? I know it's a radical concept. A penny is pretty much like the white crayon of money. It is rarely useful, and quite honestly I have heard myself tell my kids several times that I don't want their pennies because they are useless.
Tonight, I am going to flip that concept on it's head. I am going to give each of my kids a penny and tell them that they are responsible to turn it into their dreams. I, on the other hand, are going to use a white crayon. I am going to encourage them to trade it up. They can use ebay, craigslist, gofundme, or any other means possible to change their penny into something that they never thought it could be.
I want a house. Not just a little house, but a nice 4 bedroom around where we live now so our kids don't have to switch schools. I am going to get it by trading up a white crayon on various websites until I get one. I could work hard 3 jobs and not raise my own children like most people in America do now, but that doesn't prove anything about accomplishing the near impossible to my children.
I will be blogging about this along the way. I will be sharing the small accomplishments and the big ones.
If I get enough amazing stories along the way, I will write a book about it. That is my other dream. I want to be a published author and dedicate my book to the reasons I have dreams. My kids deserve more and I want them to see that they don't have to settle because of circumstances.
Christopher would like an xbox, the newest version with every game to play on his large 3d flat-screen tv from his gaming chair.
Manda wants a bunny and to join 4-H rabbit club. She also wants her own smart phone with a data plan.
Sydney wants to become a level 10 gymnast and one day teach gymnasts. She wants a room filled with trophies and all the equipment necessary to practice everything.
Skye wants a laptop computer with internet. She also wants make-up and would love to pay for her own gymnasts class to free up some money for other things.
Austin is almost 3. I doubt he really understands this, but I know that cats reduce his stress and seizures. I think he would love to get a cat. His cat needs litter and food and shots.
Tonight I am going sit down with them and help them each come up with an individual plan to help them accomplish their dreams. I will provide links to these things in later blogs.
The other day I had a friend over and I told him he needed to turn a penny into an awesome present for me. Well what if my kids were able to complete their own dreams with just a penny? I know it's a radical concept. A penny is pretty much like the white crayon of money. It is rarely useful, and quite honestly I have heard myself tell my kids several times that I don't want their pennies because they are useless.
Tonight, I am going to flip that concept on it's head. I am going to give each of my kids a penny and tell them that they are responsible to turn it into their dreams. I, on the other hand, are going to use a white crayon. I am going to encourage them to trade it up. They can use ebay, craigslist, gofundme, or any other means possible to change their penny into something that they never thought it could be.
I want a house. Not just a little house, but a nice 4 bedroom around where we live now so our kids don't have to switch schools. I am going to get it by trading up a white crayon on various websites until I get one. I could work hard 3 jobs and not raise my own children like most people in America do now, but that doesn't prove anything about accomplishing the near impossible to my children.
I will be blogging about this along the way. I will be sharing the small accomplishments and the big ones.
If I get enough amazing stories along the way, I will write a book about it. That is my other dream. I want to be a published author and dedicate my book to the reasons I have dreams. My kids deserve more and I want them to see that they don't have to settle because of circumstances.
Christopher would like an xbox, the newest version with every game to play on his large 3d flat-screen tv from his gaming chair.
Manda wants a bunny and to join 4-H rabbit club. She also wants her own smart phone with a data plan.
Sydney wants to become a level 10 gymnast and one day teach gymnasts. She wants a room filled with trophies and all the equipment necessary to practice everything.
Skye wants a laptop computer with internet. She also wants make-up and would love to pay for her own gymnasts class to free up some money for other things.
Austin is almost 3. I doubt he really understands this, but I know that cats reduce his stress and seizures. I think he would love to get a cat. His cat needs litter and food and shots.
Tonight I am going sit down with them and help them each come up with an individual plan to help them accomplish their dreams. I will provide links to these things in later blogs.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Mac and Cheese Disappointments
Everyone has fond memories of mac and cheese from childhood. Nothing was more exciting than hearing you mother tell you that a box of Kraft (because let's face it, the off brands just never compared) was on the menu. It was creamy and cheesy, comforting because it was familiar and the taste never changed. So when my first serious boyfriend offered to make some shells and cheese I was quite reluctant. He was insistent that I would like it. I took one bite of the half-cooked shells, faked a smile, and told him they were a bit crunchy. Then he tried them and totally got my expression. The next day, he was unfortunate enough to have to eat my eggs, which may rock now, but totally sucked at 15.
Fast forward two years, and my now ex husband tries to make me mac and cheese when I was sick. He may have nailed the consistency of the noodles, but he had an epic fail on the cheese. Instead of milk and butter, he used pure water. I would have been better off eating the box.
Sometimes are memories play tricks on us. We like to remember things as better than the way they actually were. Last night I was talking to a friend and suddenly realized how bad my last engagement actually was verses how I try to remember it. Just because the majority of the relationship wasn't bad, it does not mean it was good either. It's like mac and cheese, the memories of the taste of properly made macaroni does not make the stuff you are currently eating any less disgusting.
Since becoming an adult, regular mac and cheese no longer cuts it. I find myself adding things like bacon, hotdogs, or onions. This brings me to my next point, being good, doesn't make something great. On Saturday night I picked up an old friend and took my son to the park. It was fun, not just because we are good friends, but because we created fun. He decided to crash a Mexican baptism and grab a beer. I stood outside while he walked in. Once inside a girl asked him who he knew at the party, and he said, "Jose." While this is completely racist, it was also hilarious. The girl proceed to inform him she has seen him with his girl outside. (Given my blonde hair and blue eyes I don't make a good Mexican.) He informed her that I was in fact not his girl and just a friend. Meanwhile the men at the party were only concerned that he was old enough to drink.
Obviously, this was probably the most I had laughed in a while, as well as being a great memory and drinking story. My point of this story, is that while that is my funny memory, it didn't make the action any more right. Not only should he have not crashed the party, but he shouldn't have been drinking for multiple reasons. Yet, when I reflect on this night later on, I can say with almost complete certainty that other people will find it funny too.
We have to put up with the bad sometimes to see the good in the entire picture. Today I wrote a blog entirely based on the concept of mac and cheese. Because two of my exes couldn't cook, I got to take away memories to share. I want to leave you with this: you are in the memories of many other people and one day they are going to pull out those memories and while they may have been a disappointment to you, they are hilarious to someone else.
Fast forward two years, and my now ex husband tries to make me mac and cheese when I was sick. He may have nailed the consistency of the noodles, but he had an epic fail on the cheese. Instead of milk and butter, he used pure water. I would have been better off eating the box.
Sometimes are memories play tricks on us. We like to remember things as better than the way they actually were. Last night I was talking to a friend and suddenly realized how bad my last engagement actually was verses how I try to remember it. Just because the majority of the relationship wasn't bad, it does not mean it was good either. It's like mac and cheese, the memories of the taste of properly made macaroni does not make the stuff you are currently eating any less disgusting.
Since becoming an adult, regular mac and cheese no longer cuts it. I find myself adding things like bacon, hotdogs, or onions. This brings me to my next point, being good, doesn't make something great. On Saturday night I picked up an old friend and took my son to the park. It was fun, not just because we are good friends, but because we created fun. He decided to crash a Mexican baptism and grab a beer. I stood outside while he walked in. Once inside a girl asked him who he knew at the party, and he said, "Jose." While this is completely racist, it was also hilarious. The girl proceed to inform him she has seen him with his girl outside. (Given my blonde hair and blue eyes I don't make a good Mexican.) He informed her that I was in fact not his girl and just a friend. Meanwhile the men at the party were only concerned that he was old enough to drink.
Obviously, this was probably the most I had laughed in a while, as well as being a great memory and drinking story. My point of this story, is that while that is my funny memory, it didn't make the action any more right. Not only should he have not crashed the party, but he shouldn't have been drinking for multiple reasons. Yet, when I reflect on this night later on, I can say with almost complete certainty that other people will find it funny too.
We have to put up with the bad sometimes to see the good in the entire picture. Today I wrote a blog entirely based on the concept of mac and cheese. Because two of my exes couldn't cook, I got to take away memories to share. I want to leave you with this: you are in the memories of many other people and one day they are going to pull out those memories and while they may have been a disappointment to you, they are hilarious to someone else.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Mr. Toad's Wild Ride
Seven was a big year for me. I was in dance, figure skating, and golf. For the life of me. I still can't dance or golf. However, it was also the year I went to Disney World.
Disney World is a magical place where if someone plays their cards right, they can see all the amazing charecters that made their childhood special. For weeks I planned out riding space mountian and shaking hands with Mickey Mouse. I saw myself in front of Cinderella's castle meeting Prince Charming and getting a kiss on the cheek. My whole concept of what Disney World was was based on the premise of commercials and childhood naivity.
So when I went to date years later, I entered it with the same false realities I had come across on tv specials and Hallmark movies. I would find the right guy, and even if I found the wrong one the first time, the right one would kick his ass and steal me away and leave me feeling happy every single day.
Shortly, after arriving at Disney I noticed a couple concerning things. Basically, I was too short to ride Space Mountain, and the place was HUGE so the odds of finding my childhood idols to say hi to was out of my grasp. I never once got to meet Mickey, and I found Prince Charming to be rather ugly in person. The things I was tall enough to ride were mondain everyday rides like the Dumbo ride, the teacups, bumper cars, and something with a troll that was a water ride that went down backwards.
That's when I read the sign for something I could ride: Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. It sounded thrilling, much better than the Snow White which didn't even have Snow White in it once. Unfortunately, the ride really wasn't that wild in the fun way I had envisioned. There were a lot of jerky twists and turns and really ugly and sometimes scary frogs along the path. There wasn't a point in the ride that I wasn't waiting for the end ultimately so I could find something better after exiting the ride.
Thus brings me back to my dating life. (Yes, I really am about to compare my dating life thus far to the childhood disappointments of my Disney vacation.) When I set out on the journey of dating I thought it sounded fun. I pictured endless options and me selecting Prince Charming in the end. I thought the whole thing would be a fun satisfying adventure worth waiting in line for.
The reality has been a bunch of twists and turns accompanied by scary frogs, that no matter how much I kissed them, just simply would not turn into a prince. Everytime I get back on the ride, I hope for a different or better result (aware doing the same thing over and over is the basic definition of insanity here). The end results always varied, but anticipating the end of the ride has become normal now. The first time I had no idea how or when things would conclude, but after a series of going down similar roads I have anticipated disappointment would occur shortly after getting aboard the ride.
This year I have decided that I am ready to try a new ride. I want something without the word "wild" in it. A tame and mild adventure would be satisfactory any time now. Some new and fun where I don't have a clue where it will end and I will have no desire to get off. I want to be whisked of to meet Mickey Mouse and stop looking for Prince Charming because he isn't that good-looking anyways. I want to find a happily ever after, that even if I get off the ride for one minute, I can't wait to get back on. I don't want to pay for admission, but I don't expect it to be free either. I am going to give what I get and get it back. This is the year I get off Mr. Toad's Wild Ride for good and see if I am tall enough for Space Mountain.
Disney World is a magical place where if someone plays their cards right, they can see all the amazing charecters that made their childhood special. For weeks I planned out riding space mountian and shaking hands with Mickey Mouse. I saw myself in front of Cinderella's castle meeting Prince Charming and getting a kiss on the cheek. My whole concept of what Disney World was was based on the premise of commercials and childhood naivity.
So when I went to date years later, I entered it with the same false realities I had come across on tv specials and Hallmark movies. I would find the right guy, and even if I found the wrong one the first time, the right one would kick his ass and steal me away and leave me feeling happy every single day.
Shortly, after arriving at Disney I noticed a couple concerning things. Basically, I was too short to ride Space Mountain, and the place was HUGE so the odds of finding my childhood idols to say hi to was out of my grasp. I never once got to meet Mickey, and I found Prince Charming to be rather ugly in person. The things I was tall enough to ride were mondain everyday rides like the Dumbo ride, the teacups, bumper cars, and something with a troll that was a water ride that went down backwards.
That's when I read the sign for something I could ride: Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. It sounded thrilling, much better than the Snow White which didn't even have Snow White in it once. Unfortunately, the ride really wasn't that wild in the fun way I had envisioned. There were a lot of jerky twists and turns and really ugly and sometimes scary frogs along the path. There wasn't a point in the ride that I wasn't waiting for the end ultimately so I could find something better after exiting the ride.
Thus brings me back to my dating life. (Yes, I really am about to compare my dating life thus far to the childhood disappointments of my Disney vacation.) When I set out on the journey of dating I thought it sounded fun. I pictured endless options and me selecting Prince Charming in the end. I thought the whole thing would be a fun satisfying adventure worth waiting in line for.
The reality has been a bunch of twists and turns accompanied by scary frogs, that no matter how much I kissed them, just simply would not turn into a prince. Everytime I get back on the ride, I hope for a different or better result (aware doing the same thing over and over is the basic definition of insanity here). The end results always varied, but anticipating the end of the ride has become normal now. The first time I had no idea how or when things would conclude, but after a series of going down similar roads I have anticipated disappointment would occur shortly after getting aboard the ride.
This year I have decided that I am ready to try a new ride. I want something without the word "wild" in it. A tame and mild adventure would be satisfactory any time now. Some new and fun where I don't have a clue where it will end and I will have no desire to get off. I want to be whisked of to meet Mickey Mouse and stop looking for Prince Charming because he isn't that good-looking anyways. I want to find a happily ever after, that even if I get off the ride for one minute, I can't wait to get back on. I don't want to pay for admission, but I don't expect it to be free either. I am going to give what I get and get it back. This is the year I get off Mr. Toad's Wild Ride for good and see if I am tall enough for Space Mountain.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Finding a Man the Happy Bunny Way
Everyone is so fake. Yes, those of you in a relationship I called you out. Your man does not make the sunshine. Nor, is he truly the best thing to ever happen to you. Let's just call the kettle black. You often find his skid-marked underwear left in the middle of the bedroom floor, the wet towel from tis morning dropped beside the toilet that he frequently misses and when you are taking he shower is the time he normally decides to take a healthy dump. Yes, you happy relationship people, QUIT LYING!!!!!
This leads me to my good friend, Happy Bunny. He doesn't lie. I know, I am wearing his shirt. I am actually quite proud to have bought it for myself. It's a glittery screen printed picture of him in a Santa hat saying, "I've been naughty. So what?" LOL right? I am also a huge fan of other things that he likes to say:
Love. It's just like hate, but somebody gets candy.
They're books. Unless you don't read, then their coasters.
It's all about me. Deal with it!
School prepares you for the real world which also sucks.
You smell like butt.
You're ugly and that's funny.
hi. loser.
I did it, but I'm blaming you.
it's ok if you want to drop dead
I love dumb people. It's fun to watch them trip.
Hating you makes me all warm inside.
I have a dream and in it something eats you.
I just realized, I don't care.
Your anger makes me happy.
Boys lie and kind of stink.
I hear the other ucky people calling you.
Now, these are all things I have thought at one time or another. I will admit it. You probably won't and I will be the first to tell you that that is called denial. So, I am going to break down his thoughts for you.
All relationships are based on the same principle: we love hating each other. A marriage occurs when two people agree to put up with each other until they divorce. Sad? Nah. Reality? Ya, probably. What would happen if we all just said what we really thought from day one. I will give you all the following account of what I not only am looking for, but what I know I won't find. Therefore I know that I will be comprising my own selfish desires should I find anyone that is almost as awesome as me. Yes, I am mean, deal with it.
If you are lucky enough to be allowed to touch me, I want candy. Yes, I read so don't assume you can give me an insult as a compliment and expect me to fall for a jerk. I want to be the center of the universe. Make me feel like I am, and I will pretend like you are the center of mine, but we will both know it's all about me. I am educated, both in the schools and in the streets. You won't be able to use me, or outsmart me. Think you are playing me, guess again cause I bet you are already being played. You smell. Shower daily. I do. You should too. If you are a loser i.e. you live with your mom, don't have your own car, haven't worked in a long time, can't pay to take me out, and/or have a bad relationship with your baby mama on account of you being a deadbeat, don't look at me. I don't hang out with losers, let alone date them. The second you do something to make me dislike you, everything you do will begin to annoy me more. If we break up, we can be friends. Friends don't fool around. Friends don't continue to tell each other how in love they are with me. If your friends are stupid, you probably are too. My friends are some of the most awesome people on the planet, especially my guy friends. Don't like my friends, get lost cause they're not going anywhere. Jealous of my guy friends, get over it or get gone, cause I am not leaving them for a man. I am not always going to look like this. Sometimes I will look super hot. Other times, not so much. If you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best. Sometimes I am going to leave my dirty laundry around the house just to see if you will whine and/or pick it up for me. I will cook for you. If I burn it, you better eat it with a smile or buy us both a pizza. You bring me Chinese, I will fall in love with you. You show up empty handed, you better be really cute!!!
Ya, so if you are still reading this, you now know why I am still single. You may have also figured out I am tired of settling. If a Happy Bunny philosophy applies to you, then we probably won't date. If you think this was funny, please share me with your friends.
This leads me to my good friend, Happy Bunny. He doesn't lie. I know, I am wearing his shirt. I am actually quite proud to have bought it for myself. It's a glittery screen printed picture of him in a Santa hat saying, "I've been naughty. So what?" LOL right? I am also a huge fan of other things that he likes to say:
Love. It's just like hate, but somebody gets candy.
They're books. Unless you don't read, then their coasters.
It's all about me. Deal with it!
School prepares you for the real world which also sucks.
You smell like butt.
You're ugly and that's funny.
hi. loser.
I did it, but I'm blaming you.
it's ok if you want to drop dead
I love dumb people. It's fun to watch them trip.
Hating you makes me all warm inside.
I have a dream and in it something eats you.
I just realized, I don't care.
Your anger makes me happy.
Boys lie and kind of stink.
I hear the other ucky people calling you.
Now, these are all things I have thought at one time or another. I will admit it. You probably won't and I will be the first to tell you that that is called denial. So, I am going to break down his thoughts for you.
All relationships are based on the same principle: we love hating each other. A marriage occurs when two people agree to put up with each other until they divorce. Sad? Nah. Reality? Ya, probably. What would happen if we all just said what we really thought from day one. I will give you all the following account of what I not only am looking for, but what I know I won't find. Therefore I know that I will be comprising my own selfish desires should I find anyone that is almost as awesome as me. Yes, I am mean, deal with it.
If you are lucky enough to be allowed to touch me, I want candy. Yes, I read so don't assume you can give me an insult as a compliment and expect me to fall for a jerk. I want to be the center of the universe. Make me feel like I am, and I will pretend like you are the center of mine, but we will both know it's all about me. I am educated, both in the schools and in the streets. You won't be able to use me, or outsmart me. Think you are playing me, guess again cause I bet you are already being played. You smell. Shower daily. I do. You should too. If you are a loser i.e. you live with your mom, don't have your own car, haven't worked in a long time, can't pay to take me out, and/or have a bad relationship with your baby mama on account of you being a deadbeat, don't look at me. I don't hang out with losers, let alone date them. The second you do something to make me dislike you, everything you do will begin to annoy me more. If we break up, we can be friends. Friends don't fool around. Friends don't continue to tell each other how in love they are with me. If your friends are stupid, you probably are too. My friends are some of the most awesome people on the planet, especially my guy friends. Don't like my friends, get lost cause they're not going anywhere. Jealous of my guy friends, get over it or get gone, cause I am not leaving them for a man. I am not always going to look like this. Sometimes I will look super hot. Other times, not so much. If you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best. Sometimes I am going to leave my dirty laundry around the house just to see if you will whine and/or pick it up for me. I will cook for you. If I burn it, you better eat it with a smile or buy us both a pizza. You bring me Chinese, I will fall in love with you. You show up empty handed, you better be really cute!!!
Ya, so if you are still reading this, you now know why I am still single. You may have also figured out I am tired of settling. If a Happy Bunny philosophy applies to you, then we probably won't date. If you think this was funny, please share me with your friends.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
My Thanks
For those of you that are avid readers, you are very aware that I use my blog as a tool to complain . This blog is a more accurate depiction of who I am. This is rare, so please stand up and take notice. Today I am writing on what I am thankful for with a twist.
I am thankful for the usual things, food, family, laughter, friends, and a place over head. However, I am also thankful for the things that have gone wrong in the last 2 years. I am thankful that I got left at 8.5 months pregnant. It has made me stronger and a better mom. It has pushed me to new levels of emotional strength and courage I didn't know existed within me. It has brought me great joy and hope. Once he left, I was free to connect with a ton of guys I am now proud to say are a great and understanding support system and I adore having the ability to have friends of the opposite sex without jealousy or trust issues. These men have also given me the ability to trust men again after a series of finding losers and boys. Thanks guys.
The shooting outside my building in front of my kids has showed me that life is precious. It gave me the opportunity to evaluate how we are living and where we are living. Are my kids going to pack heat at 12? I would like to think not and this awarded me the opportunity to have a series of serious discussions with my kids about bringing unnecessary drama into their lives. We also had the talk about drugs and prayer and the importance of faith directly because of this incident. Two of my children accepted Jesus and began regularly reading the Bible with me directly because of this.
I had all the money stolen off my debit card last year while giving birth to Austin. I never got any of it back. I know who did it, and I figure and am seeing this person reap what they sewed. I continued on doing what I had to do and made do with less. This included not having a contribution from my son's father. I learned to make my own laundry soap, dish cleaners, shampoo and toothpaste. We use coupons. I save a ton of money now thanks to the inconsideration of another. Now when we do have more money coming in, I will be able to save more and provide better. We will depend less on others while having more to contribute to society. One day we are going to adopt a family and give back the gifts given to us when we went without.
I have had several people that I lost as friends due to a poor choice of a relationship come back and share with me the power of forgiveness and friendship. Not every broken friendship needs super glue to repair, sometimes a simple "I'm sorry." is enough.
Mostly these last two years have made me appreciate that I control only myself. A lot of bad happens around us. A lot of bad shouldn't have to effect us. Only I can control my reactions to the situations around me. I can't control the actions of others and as a result I have learned when to let go, when to forgive, and who doesn't deserve my time. I have made friends that make my life interesting or better. I have gotten rid of those that create drama, that harbor anger, and that add weight to my load. I have learned that family are not the people you are born into, but rather the people that choose to remain in your life. Love is a choice and a verb. Love is meant to be shared. This Thanksgiving, I am thankful most for you. You take the time to read my blogs and live within my life. I love you all.
I am thankful for the usual things, food, family, laughter, friends, and a place over head. However, I am also thankful for the things that have gone wrong in the last 2 years. I am thankful that I got left at 8.5 months pregnant. It has made me stronger and a better mom. It has pushed me to new levels of emotional strength and courage I didn't know existed within me. It has brought me great joy and hope. Once he left, I was free to connect with a ton of guys I am now proud to say are a great and understanding support system and I adore having the ability to have friends of the opposite sex without jealousy or trust issues. These men have also given me the ability to trust men again after a series of finding losers and boys. Thanks guys.
The shooting outside my building in front of my kids has showed me that life is precious. It gave me the opportunity to evaluate how we are living and where we are living. Are my kids going to pack heat at 12? I would like to think not and this awarded me the opportunity to have a series of serious discussions with my kids about bringing unnecessary drama into their lives. We also had the talk about drugs and prayer and the importance of faith directly because of this incident. Two of my children accepted Jesus and began regularly reading the Bible with me directly because of this.
I had all the money stolen off my debit card last year while giving birth to Austin. I never got any of it back. I know who did it, and I figure and am seeing this person reap what they sewed. I continued on doing what I had to do and made do with less. This included not having a contribution from my son's father. I learned to make my own laundry soap, dish cleaners, shampoo and toothpaste. We use coupons. I save a ton of money now thanks to the inconsideration of another. Now when we do have more money coming in, I will be able to save more and provide better. We will depend less on others while having more to contribute to society. One day we are going to adopt a family and give back the gifts given to us when we went without.
I have had several people that I lost as friends due to a poor choice of a relationship come back and share with me the power of forgiveness and friendship. Not every broken friendship needs super glue to repair, sometimes a simple "I'm sorry." is enough.
Mostly these last two years have made me appreciate that I control only myself. A lot of bad happens around us. A lot of bad shouldn't have to effect us. Only I can control my reactions to the situations around me. I can't control the actions of others and as a result I have learned when to let go, when to forgive, and who doesn't deserve my time. I have made friends that make my life interesting or better. I have gotten rid of those that create drama, that harbor anger, and that add weight to my load. I have learned that family are not the people you are born into, but rather the people that choose to remain in your life. Love is a choice and a verb. Love is meant to be shared. This Thanksgiving, I am thankful most for you. You take the time to read my blogs and live within my life. I love you all.
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