When losing starts feeling like a win

We've all heard about Murphys law. If it can go wrong, it will. My life is a perfect example of that. I know I've touched on this before, but I'm going to do it again.

One of my best friends in this world always tells me "Liz I just don't understand how you do it. Your life is so hard!"

What's so hard about it? I mean aside from the obvious, I just couldn't figure it out....until I really started to think. Truth is, I have the worst luck. I promise, if I'm running late, every single light will be red.  We run out of groceries every time I have 4 cranky kids in the car on a Friday afternoon. My favorite wine will be sold out on the worst day of the week, because let's face it. Its only sold in 3 stores. Its the most expensive one, and no one has ever heard of it. Why wouldn't someone buy it in bulk?  That's when I started to get it.

There's another me out there that didn't hit that last red light...or ran it. And seeing that last bottle on the shelf was like a winning lottery ticket! She didn't have her kids with her today. She probably got into the store just before the rush hit. And she was WINNING today.

She didn't have a kid pitch a fit for the last yogurt this morning, when it was all she wanted for breakfast. She missed the client that cries every time they come into the office. To the rest of the world, it was just another day, but to her it was the best day. She had just enough hair spritz, just enough time to look great, just enough coffee to fill her cup, just the right fit in those new pants, just enough makeup to look perfect.  Yes, she ran out of all of these things, buy she had just enough for today, and missing the rush at the Walmart meant just enough time to replenish. On any other day, she's the biggest loser, but today she was winning.

For me, it wasn't that day. Ran out of coffee creamer yesterday, but I didn't remember it until after I made coffee. Had a kid refuse his breakfast because he wanted mine. He won. I went hungry. Every light was red. Every driver was slow. No one answered the phone. Everything got shuffled. Missed that goal by 1 sale. Walmart was jamming. Kids argued the entire way thru the store, and on the pasta aisle my 4 year old tossed all of my groceries into another persons cart while I was deciding on a sauce. (She probably questioned her sanity at the checkout, because she straight walked off with my crap) My 9 year old decided to play Tarzan at the register and nearly tore down the gum display. And the meltdown that came when the car seat that had been strapped in that same spot for a year, wasn't in his favorite seat was just exhausting. And the cherry on this peach of a day was our friend dropping by with a house warming gift.....that he drank without me.  Good thing I bought the $5 wine. After a while it went down pretty smooth. Just in time for me size 00 daughter to try on the dress I bought for me...and it fit her.

We celebrate the wins, because we are so used to losing.

The key

So, I work on insurance, and the question came up the other day of "who has a key to your house in the event of an emergency?" Well, as usual my mind began to wonder. Who does have a key? And what kind of emergency are we talking here? Like a I forgot to put diapers in the bag? I got locked out? Forgot to feed the dog? Hey can you check to see if my house is on fire? Like that wouldn't be obvious with the smoke rolling....

It was after questioning the reasoning that I started thinking of when folk did have keys, and I quickly realized why I haven't handed any out lately. 

In my apartment plenty of people had access. My sitter had a key so she could come and go. My best friend so she could borrow clothes or shower if she'd been out late. The maintenance staff also had one. What comes with a spare key tho? 

Well that my friends us the reason of this post. We are taught to give a key for emergencies, but in reality you're more likely to be walked in on while pooping by a friend than a tree falling in your living room. 

It happened so many times. Not the pooping part, but I swear there was an alert system that sent a signal every time I stepped in the shower. Her first day on the job, my sitter walked in on me. My only thoughts were "please don't quit!"  A few weeks later she did it again. And a few weeks after that, her boyfriend did. 

I can't think of a single instance where I had an emergency in need of someone going in while I was out. But if it were a contest to see how many times I could walk out of the shower as someone spontaneously opened the door, I'd totally win! 

Fake it till you make it

Tonight I experienced something I've read about and hoped for for years. Don't misunderstand, I know it was fake. I know you know it was fake. I know you know I knew it was fake, but I appreciated it none the less. 

We all read the stories about exes who get along for the sake of the kids. Up until tonight we were just not that family, but tonight we hit a milestone. We attended the same event. We sat at the same table. We shared a folder and exchanged the papers so that we each got to read the information. Nothing negative was shared. No ugliness peeking thru. I'll admit I had my reservations. I'm certain my distrust was obvious. I was quiet and wondered nonstop what I had missed. What was going on? Why were you being nice? And then I concluded, because they don't need to see it. These innocent teachers and parents weren't part of this. 

I have no idea what has been shared about me. I often wonder, but I can't focus on that. Tonight we were the blended family we have always supposed to be. For that, I can't be anything but thankful. I truly believe if our children had been present, they would've been proud. It would've been easy for them to shift between us and not feel conflicted. 

I heard you pause when you introduced me as "mom." I was grateful none the less, and I'm certain I was the only one who noticed. I stayed a little after the rest of the parents to ask if I could purchase an additional yearbook, but I did not explain why. I did not want to draw attention to our situation, but merely have a copy to enjoy. 

I've come to see the other side of parenting. The step side. It isn't always easy. There's an enormous amount of shoveling that goes into it. I appreciate the part you play in those tiny humans lives. While I don't agree with many things that have come to be, I haven't lost hope that we can level out. Somehow, I still believe we can all get along and perform our portions with as little impact on the kids as possible. It is possible. This evening was proof of that. 

I already said I knew you were faking. I know you don't like me. You know that is mutual, but we are capable of being civil. We most definitely can put our differences aside and love our babies to the fullest. We aren't family, but we are their family, and we can give them that normalcy. Thank you, for being civil. Thank you for not causing a scene, for making me feel a part of things again, and mostly for giving me hope for our future. So in the future, may we fake it till we make it. 

I may not need you, but I'll always want you here.

A year ago today, the man of my dreams walked thru my door. He was already in my life. He already had a place in my heart. He was my friend. We'd hung out before, watched football games, laughed with friends and even been on double dates. This meeting was different. We were both single for the first time in a while. I was hesitant to spend time together, because the opinions of others would be formed. We would inevitably get the reputation of something was going on before. 

We got the rep. We've endured the rumors. We've lost "friends" over our relationship,  and I use that term loosely. Of the many people who probably did have affairs before they got together, we truly didn't. We were just friends. 

Even after this night, we continued to be "just friends." We didn't hide, but we did attempt a low profile. The guilt ate at both of us. We nearly parted ways several times, something kept drawing us back in. It was as if the universe was reminding us how short this life is. Life is fleeting, and when you find the one who makes you laugh, willing to lose sleep, to put anything in the line, they're worth keeping. 

I'm so glad he walked in to my life, muddy boots and messy, he's worth it. We've had our ups and downs. We've had our trials. We've lost our way a time or two and questioned why we even try. We are polar opposites. We butt heads daily, but there's no one I'd rather share this life with than him. 

We are the 1% who cuddle all night long. I miss him instantly when he walks away. His happiness is more important than my own, and I believe the same applies on his part. I've said too many times to count, "I don't need him, but I want him here. I can live without him, but I don't want to." 

To his parents, thank you. You've done a wonderful job raising an amazing man. To those who've supported us whole heartedly, I love you. You are the ones who've seen the love we have and are willing to hold our hands. To those who let him go, thank you even more. The cracks you left in his broken heart are more room for me to fill. I'm sorry it didn't work out, but I'm so grateful for the opportunity to love him. To those who left the cracks on my heart, thank you for teaching me what real love was. And to my sweet boo boo bear, I love you. I'm so glad you chose me. Thank you for standing by my side and loving me in my lightest and darkest hours. You are my favorite human, my best friend, my shooting star, and a dream come true. 

The hardest job on earth...

Parenting is so hard.  There should be a book given to teenagers when they decide to be sexually active describing the career path they're about to take. I'll write the first page. 

"Parenting- always hiring. Everyone qualifies, although not all will be successful or reach the same gratification. Hours are long, actually never ending. Appreciation will take at least 20 years of excruciating labor, even then you may not ever see it. The stress, anxiety, fears, sleep deprivation and resentment will last for at least a decade. Bathing, toileting, sleeping, cooking, and pretty much every other activity will come with an audience and usually a dozen questions. You will sacrifice nearly every piece of who you are. You will say things you never imagine, like 'don't lick the shopping cart. We always wear pants in public. Please don't poop in the yard!'  You will laugh and be thankful for each and every day you experience these horrors, but I promise, you will question your sanity...daily. "

That about sums it up. We don't get paid. In fact, we shell out thousands of dollars for sports to sit in unbearable heat, gaining hideous tan lines, to shout at an umpire and have a kid who is embarrassed that you arrived. We car pool our tiny humans everywhere, just to have them ask you to drop them off around the corner so their friends don't see. We shell out a small fortune for an education to be told they've decided to take a semester off and bar tend. 

We are disappointed a billion times over, but not in our kids. We disappoint ourselves. We failed at teaching respect. We said just walking away was the better option to violence, and when that sweet baby gets bullied you contemplate if violence really was the answer. The first swear word spoken from innocent lips will take your soul across the hot coals of hell, and you will regret the parental temper tantrum. 

See parenting doesn't come with a manual. It does, but no one reads it. It's the oldest person sitting at Christmas dinner. They'll tell you, but you won't listen. We all learn the hard way, and we stretch our nerves, budget and yoga pants to the last possible thread. 

We love our tiny humans, but man we often wonder "what the hell were we thinking?!" You're never prepared to have kids. You don't have enough money, patience or space, but somehow we always make a little room. When they grow up we sit and marvel. Only when they have children do we see our success. 

You're not a victim, you're just looking for attention

I read an article yesterday that made me want to vomit!! I can't imagine the person who wrote it to be very "wide lensed." The level of self absorption was so intense, I just saw her as a narcasist. It was then I was reminded that most of the world is like this. 

Well in the words of Dolly Pardon, "get off the cross honey, somebody needs the wood!" 

Stop playing the victim!! It's not cute, and while everyone who needs their safe place may entertain you, those of us who understand cause and effect just simply don't give a hoot! 

Life is hard! Your life hasn't ended up the way it is because of everyone else. You made choices every step of the way. My life sucks sometimes. There are a million things I'd like to change, but wishing won't help it. You know what does? Getting off your keester and working for it!! You can pray all day long, but the good lord isn't just gonna hand you your dreams on a silver platter. Go after what you want. You don't work, neither does he. Your significant other's ex doesn't like you? Aww so sad. Maybe there's a reason. Just maybe while he was swooning you, he was also telling her they were working it out. Stranger things have happened. Maybe you're not a nice person. Again, stranger things have happened. If you're not making enough money, go get a second job. Ask for a raise. Work harder! 

It's not everyone else's fault that things go wrong. Make better choices. Accept the ones you've made, and change the ones you don't like.

No one is going to thank you for the basics. Hell, it's rare enough to get a thank you for going above and beyond. Be grateful if you get acknowledgement, but don't expect it. Get off your "poor pitiful me" kick and just be happy. The world isn't going to make your life easier. That's just not how it works. 

You can gravel in your misery, or you can choose to get over yourself and move on. For the love of sweet tea, get over yourself. Live your life. Be happy. Stop looking for approval, we are all just trying to make it here. Either get in the race or get out of the way. 

When life goes so wrong, but so right

Read the title. How is that even possible? 

I know it's been a minute since I've posted. My regular readers have been chomping at the bit to find out what's going on. I won't go into a lot of detail, I will say this. Life is going so good-and I mean really good but soooooo bad at the same time. 

I started a new career. I am madly in love with the sig. He's shown me that even tho it seems crazy, some people love you, even when you have nothing to offer them but your company. His family is just as amazing, and every time I'm certain I have fallen from grace, they accept my every flaw as just a part of me. Our tiny humans are finally getting a grip on our new routine, and they're all just incredible kids. We laugh. We play. We live a sweet life, and I have never been happier. 

On the flip side of that, I have never been more miserable. After 6 months of semi peace, suddenly I was arrested for a violation for a crime I didn't commit. I have never been more humiliated in my life. I've never been in trouble. I've never done anything remotely wrong, and yet there I was being shackled while my ex's wife stood taking pictures. My picture was plastered all over the Internet, but worse, I was arrested in front of my kids. Finally comes the 5 court dates in under 30 of the upcoming days. Not to mention, my tires were slashed while I was there. As I said a few years ago. Just when I thought I'd seen the depths of hell, he shows me a new level. 

Despite everything that has ensued, I continue to pray for them. I believe in forgiveness, because the good lord forgives me every day. Life gets crazy. Sometimes there aren't enough words to describe everything that's taking place, but we press on. I will continue moving forward. The past has to let go of me eventually right? And I'll forgive. But for the record, my forgiveness should not be mistaken for ignorance. I know the truth. It will find a way to the light. I will be redeemed and my good name cleared. Y'all pray for us. 

You never know what you've got...til it's gone.

We've all heard the age old phrase "you never know what you've got, til it's gone."  How often do we really think about those words? On Facebook last week, I saw the news story about sad grandpa. It was sad. All I kept thinking was what I wouldn't give to visit my grand parents. I never knew my grandfathers, but I know my grandmothers were amazing women. I'd love to have one more family meal! And to see the picture of his grandkids when they finally showed up looking inconvenienced makes me want to shake them. 

I stand on my soap box and preach about letting the kids be little, playing with them, and just enjoying their childhood while they're still little. No one really hears me. Just the other day we were talking about why I cater to my three year old. He pouts that lip and flashes those baby blues, and I melt. His favorite phrase is "mumum, I just need you." I pick him up, scratch his back, read him stories, let him help me cook; he is my butthole baby. (For those who need an explanation, a butthole baby is one who follows so closely, that whenever I stop, his nose goes right into my butthole.) 

It was asked why I allow him to "need" me so much, and that's when it dawned on me. He needs me. He still needs me, and as long as he does, I'll let him. It's been longer than I can remember since my older two needed me. They don't climb in my lap and just want to be held anymore. I'm weird and old now. 

Again, I'd give anything for them to need me. I'm so proud of the people they're growing up to be. Nothing makes me happier than to see those tiny humans maturing into great people. Their budding personalities keep me in amazement. 

They're not tiny anymore, although they always will be to me. Altogether too soon they'll need me even less than they do now. Soon enough it'll be drivers licenses, college dorms, and I'm gonna stop there before I tear up. That 3 year old wanted to help me cook this evening, and despite the horrendous mess he made flipping burgers, I let him. I allowed him to stand by my side and help, because soon enough he won't want to. 

Appreciate the time you have. Call your parents. Visit your loved ones. Let those babies get dirty and make a mess. They won't always want or need your help, and before you know it, they'll be grown. 

God bless those tiny humans. They bring more joy to my soul than anything on this earth. 

Spring forward...more like a flop head first into the mud!

Daylight savings is supposed to be a good thing right? Oh it's wonderful....a week after it begins, in the afternoons when you're trying to wear your kids down so they actually sleep.  It's not fun the night of.  Not only do you lose an hour of sleep, but in our case, the universe smiles down and says "Hey, you see that one.  She's been a whole 2 days without a sleepness night.  Pretty sure she's got plans tomorrow too.  Let's play with her.  She's funny when she flips her lid!" And they laugh and laugh, and suddenly the ceiling caves in, a kid throws up, and another whines all night long.

Oh yea, that wasn't an exaggeration. That literally happened....2 nights in a row!!

It's rained here, like monsooned here, for almost a week. Fine and good. We need a new roof. Noted. The high winds and torrential rains created even more havoc. I walked into the bathroom and noticed a soaked roll of toilet paper on the counter.  My first thought was "these kids!" I thought someone had dropped it in the toilet and just fished it out and left it there. No, that wasn't the case.  The first practical joke was in the form of a steady drip down the exhaust fan in the bathroom....right into the jar holding my flat iron.  Sheer panic was the first reaction.  That flat iron and I have been through 10 years!! It took 100 different flat irons to find the perfect one! The images of it's funeral were flashing through my head, with me in the background hyperventilating. Onward.

We laid down Saturday evening. We went to bed early, because we got a little wild Friday and stayed up too late.  Kids were down by 8:30, and we were right behind em! Not 2 hours in, we hear "Daddy! I frew up!"  OH that's not cool! Sure enough, it was everywhere! Sheets stripped, bed changed, kid cleaned up. Ding!! Round 1 complete.  Back to sleep.

Another 2 hours went by of in and out of consciousness, when I hear an odd sound.  "It's outside. It's just raining" he said. No it wasn't.  Something was dripping in my closet! Lights on all around, and upon investigation it was dripping, just not in the closet.  It was dripping in the attic above the closet, but because the insulation was soaked, the sheet rock fell in.  AWESOME!!!! Nothing to be done that late.  I would just clean up in the morning and call the landlord.  Back to bed. Ding! Round 2 done. 

Maybe 30 minutes went by when the second round of "Wiz, I frew up again." Wait. What?! You never ask for my help! You only ever call dad! Why is it suddenly my turn?! Fine.  I'll go, because I have stated more than once when he decided to ask me for help, I'd drop everything and go.  So, I did. Thankfully not much eruption.  Clean kid, clean pillow, new blanket. Ding!! Round 3 complete.

My head didn't so much as hit the pillow, after I tripped over the 16 pairs of shoes I keep leaving at the foot of the bed when the whambulance came through.  Every parent should know exactly what this is.  It's not a cry.  It's not a whale. It is the annoying whine of a kid who has no clue what he wants. "Whaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh, whhhaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh...." You get the idea.  ALL. NIGHT. LONG. Nothing helped. Nothing soothed. And finally, I just gave up.  Good night.

6 am. The sun was shining through, and I was beyond exhausted, but I heard the slight moan of a tiny human, and I knew.  I knew that sound! That was the "I'm going to hurl, or maybe explode" moan.  If you think parents can't fly, wait until they hear that moan.  I launched across that room without touching the floor.  I soared around the corner, through the hall and across the second bedroom again, without touching much and with no sound.  That sweet little boy thought I was going to throw him, I snatched so fast. He was grabbing at the door frames as we soared together into the bathroom.  I meant he was going to hit the toilet with the spewage that time, if it killed me.  I was not cleaning up another round of sheets, clothes etc.  I don't do vomit! I could tell it scared him.  I don't think he'd ever seen his Wiz move that fast. All was good.  Calmed him down, no changes necessary, and I was determined to get at least another hour of sleep.  Ding...round 4 down, and my reserves were shot.

Aannndddd the whambulance was back.

Another 45 minutes, and suddenly it was my turn to assist in toiletry habits again.  I'm all about helping, but can it please be someone else's turn? Dad's still snoozing, or pretending or something, but he surely wasn't moving.  He swears he was up all night, but I beg the differ.

By the time 8 am arrived, I was up.  Awake. Wired. Everyone seemed to feel better and off for the day we went.  No activity all day long....and then the sun went down.  It was the nicest day.  The sun was so bright. The breeze was so breezy.  The sun went down, and the demons were back.  The rain was back with a vengeance. Tornado sirens were blaring all around.  The baby didn't have but a small nap in the afternoon.  So, why at midnight was he still awake?!

Aaaaaaaannnnnnnnddddddd another visit from the whambulance.  "Whaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh, whhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh, whhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh..." For hours.  No gum numb, no juice, no crackers, no loving, no sleep, no hugs, no holding. NOTHING CURED HIS MISERY. Finally I just decided to let him cry it out.  Until I heard that sound.... that "I'm going to hurl. It hurts so bad. My guts are going to explode." sound.

My neck hurts. I'm exhausted.  I've washed the same sheets twice, all the pillows, the kids and now the crib linens and the baby again too.  But hey, the suns going to be out an extra hour this afternoon right? Daylight savings is grand!

I will cower no more

The past week or so I have hit an extreme case of writer's block, and the cause was somewhat of a mystery to me up until this morning.  I would sit and stare at the keyboard, but no words would form.  Despite the immense amount of topics to choose from, because let's face it, my life has never been calm, I still couldn't think of a single thing to talk about. Then it hit me....like a ton of bricks, it hit me.  I was cowering.  I have long known that my ex and his wife have been reading this blog.  They monitor my social media closer than a jealous ex girlfriend who's certain her man is seeing someone new. I've known this, but I had never really faced it head on.

Last week we had court, and the court officer told us where to sit.  He placed me a row behind and a few folks to the right of my ex. I was bored and scanning the room for something to occupy my mind when his phone caught my eye.  My phone is your typical smart phone, small case, and you couldn't read the screen from 2 people over.  But, his phone is massive. I couldn't make out the words, but I did notice the web address he typed was very long. It caught my attention, because most web sites have very short names. When the page came up, I immediately recognized the color scheme.  I designed that page.  That was my page!  He was scrolling through my blog right in front of me.  I couldn't figure out why this bothered me so much.  It was my story to tell.  He has his version, and may I add that some of his version is hilarious.  For the record, if I attempted to burn anyone's house down, it would be down. Not to mention, I'd be in prison for arson, because let's face it, I'm not a criminal mastermind, and I would get caught.  I give plenty of thought into the words I type, and I refrain from putting the gory details in most of the time.  So, again, why did it bother me?  I have my suspicions, but basically, I was cowering to a bully I knew would be angry.

That day in court didn't go well in his favor.  In fact, it backfired in an awesome way.  As I walked from the courthouse, beaming with elation, I knew there would be repercussions. Things had been civil for a little too long.  Pulling his wife from the equation calmed most everything down, but I knew that day things were about to heat up quickly.  They did.  By the next morning the storm on the horizon had reared it's ugly head.  It was comical, but I still couldn't put it into words.  I had no desire to gloat the sway in my favor.  I didn't care to publish what all went on that day.  Although, a huge a step in the right direction, to me there was still nothing to tell.  But why? I should've been shouting from the rooftops, but again, to me there was nothing to tell.

Today I spoke with an old friend briefly, as we catch up every few weeks or so.  It was during this conversation I realized how little the reward meant.  The winning felt great, but the reward didn't seem to matter.  Just shortly after this epiphany, I saw that it was time to stop cowering. I am not afraid anymore.  I will cower no longer.  I am done being the doormat.  I am done keeping my mouth shut.  I am done being the bigger person.  This is my story to tell.  I have yet to publish anything that isn't true, provable or if my opinion, protected by my first amendment right.  I have never mentioned a name.  I have never defamed anyone's character.  So from this moment on, I will write my story; the good, the bad and the ugly.  It's my story to tell.

To my faithful followers, I have to say thank you.  I appreciate you very much, but may I add, that if no one ever clicked on this page again, I would continue to write.  This is where I empty my soul. To those who are only reading to find dirt in a snow storm, thank you as well.  I don't do this for profit, but you sure are changing that with every click. Stay tuned....I'm just getting started.