Monday, October 20, 2008

Not bad for a couple of dead girls.

Today was my baby's birthday. She is 5. We had a great party, lots of sugar, and friends and relatives all came over to help celebrate. (Thanks for helping out, Feisty!)

I have many pictures of my cake exploits for this year, as well as some other blogbits (blog+tidbits) for y'all. Right now though, I am dead assed tired with some raging chest pain, so I am going to call it a night and I promise to get all bloggy tomorrow.

Oh, and to explain the title? I died giving birth to my daughter. She was born dead. But we're feeling much better now.

On the plus side...my very pregnant sister didn't squatplop a baby onto my leather couch even though she is 2 centimeters dilated today. (Due Saturday) I made her promise that my daughter could have this day all to her self.

OK, I'm off to go lapse into a sugar coma, now. More to come tomorrow!

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

I lost a follower, and found a long lost Sister.

Wow. Talk about adding insult to injury. I was so proud of my following of a whole 7 people and when I signed in today?....Someone has been blognapped. Maybe it is because I get all sporadic with the postings when I get sick. Maybe it's because I am just boring or not funny anymore. Sorry. Will try to do better. Promise.

One of the bloggers I follow died Saturday. I didn't know her personally, but can honestly say I have spent hours crying about her. R.I.P and without any more pain Michelle.

I can also say I have done a little crying for myself. Being sick is no walk in the park and while most people get a cold, get sick, and get over it...I get a cold, get sick, get slightly better or better for a day and then get sick all over again. It's tedious. It's tiring. It's made all the more difficult because I have so much I want to do and accomplish and I can't muster the energy to do it. I have even less energy if I medicate (which I generally don't do cuz what good is a mom that sleeps all the time) and I want to be awake and alert and myself for my daughter.

Even though I am under the weather, I still have to go out and do all those "mommy in a mini-van" things that make the world go round. While out on the town accomplishing these things yesterday, I happened to notice that many people driving larger vehicles (like mini-vans...but not me) are treating their daily outings like it's a funeral and THEY MUST DRIVE AS SLOW AS POSSIBLE WHILE JUST DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME AND THEN OF COURSE GET PISSY AND ALL ROAD-RAGEY AT ME AND TEACH MY CHILD GREAT NEW WORDS AND HAND GESTURES BECAUSE SOMEONE PEED IN THEIR CORNFLAKES THIS MORNING!!!

Ahem.

While out yesterday, I was walking into Publix and noticed a girl that I recognized, but had not seen in over 8 years. 8 years. Where the hell does time go? She was waiting at the pharmacy and reading a book. I debated going up to talk to her because our shared history was not a pleasant experience. I decided it was worth it because not knowing for 8 years haunted me. I approached her and asked if she remembered me. She said she thought it was me but was afraid of saying anything, I said I was thinking the same thing but decided to take a chance. We stood there and looked at each other for a moment, both almost too fearful to acknowledge our connection, and then I asked her what I had waited years (and believe me I had been searching for her for that long) to ask, "Did your daughters turn out OK? Are they alright?"

She teared up and I was already crying and she said, "Yes, they have both turned out to be beautiful young women."

You see, she and I were casualties of the same evil. Leroy. (Name not altered because he is a sadistic asshole that deserves to be speared with a thousand of those little corn on the cob holders and roasted slowly over an open flame while rabid chipmunks chew off his genitals.)

She was his girlfriend before I was. She was a girl that met him as a teenager, already having escaped one abusive relationship with a small child, only to be sucked into the wicked and unnatural charm that he possesses in excess. He promised to take care of her and her child. He got her pregnant. He forced her to support him and buy him a house. He beat her. He cheated on her. He did unspeakable things. He then got bored and decided to exact a torture on her that he was a master at and had done to the women before her and would do to the women after me.

I had just come out of a severely abusive relationship where I was beaten to death (literally) and I was trying to get my life on track. I went out one night to have a good time with friends bowling and while there, met this evil force guy. He was charming, he was fun, and he was very different than any man I had ever met before. We stayed up all night having a good time and talking and made plans to go fishing the next day. He told me he needed a ride. I showed up at his house the next day expecting to pick him up and go. There he was with two cute little girls and an excuse that his "ex-girlfriend" was supposed to take them for the day but they had been in a fight and she had taken off with out her children. (??redflag??) My car was parked in the driveway and we were sitting on the front porch discussing what we were going to do for the day, after he had introduced me to his daughters.

All of the sudden, like a bat out of hell, this woman drove up and parked behind my car and started yelling before she even got out of her SUV. She cussed him out and said she knew something fishy (ha! no pun intended) was going on when she left for work that morning and who the fuck was this bitch sitting on her front porch. He got this scary deadly look on his face and told her they would discuss it inside. They left me on the porch to go duke it out (he hit her during this fight. I heard the thump but was told by him that she was doing the hitting.) Oh yeah...?!?REDFLAG?!?

I was going to bolt right then and there. There was way too much drama going on and I had just escaped a bad and volatile relationship and didn't need to be any part of another one. I got in my car and was blocked in by her SUV. I was going to back over and demolish the shrubbery but at the time didn't have the balls to fully monster truck it out of there in my little Ford Aspire.

I should have said fuck the shrubs. It was the worst mistake of my life.

She came charging back out of the house with the two girls and loaded them and some stuff into her SUV and took off. He came strolling out of the house with a smile on his face (?!?redflag!!!) and asked if I was ready to go. We went.

Fast forward back to the Publix and I told the Sister, if it hadn't been for your car blocking mine, I would have escaped that day. She told me, if it hadn't been for you sitting on my front porch, I wouldn't have been able to escape. Both in tears at this point, we just grabbed each other and hugged. I asked her if she was mad at me, and she assured me that she wasn't. We were both casualties of that evil bastard, and were both lucky to make out of his clutches. I told her that he left me exactly the same way he left her. For a woman that looked enough like us to be our sister (all his women except his ex-wife looked the same) and that she had a young daughter for him to ruin. I also informed her that as of my latest information he had moved in with his ex-wife up in Tennessee. She had a look of horror on her face and reminded me that the ex-wife had had a daughter with another man and that she would be just about the right age....

I told her about the beatings and the cheating on me and the hordes of abuse that he heaped on me for years. She nodded and said it was all the same with her. I told her about the son I lost while with him and how he treated me so cruelly for being a "failure of a woman." She said she was now married and safe and happy with her daughters and that, while they will never forget what he did to them, with counseling they have learned to heal as best they can.

I told her that while I was with him 9 months before I had my daughter, I had managed to get away from him and escape from him despite him having me followed and hunted down by his not so legit friends, and also all his cop friends. When he heard I had a child he did some convoluted math and thought my daughter was his. (She isn't.) I told her I managed to get out one night and day while he was off cheating on me.

She said she was sad because when she got out she had to leave everything, and didn't even have any pictures of her children when they were younger. Her daughters always ask her what they looked like when they were younger. I started crying again. She asked what was wrong, and I told her I knew there was a reason I had held on to all that stuff for so long. I have plenty of pictures of her children. I have kept them all these years.

She was surprised and emotional, and we hugged again. We exchanged information and promised to get together again so that we can get all those memories back into the right places. We also both swore to not tell a soul where we actually lived because she and I worked very hard at getting "off the grid and off Leroy's radar."

We both managed to survive. We both have beautiful daughters. And when the time comes...I will stand beside her and her daughters in court against that Evil. Sisters.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Awww

My hair is plastered to my head with sweat from the on and off fever and chills, my eyes are bloodshot have have dark, huge bags, packed for a very long trip, under them. My nose is not only red and swollen, but drippy and occasionally bloody. My ears are clogged. My face is broken out like a raging hormonal teenager. I haven't shaved my legs in a week. I have a black, curly, old lady hair growing out of my chin, that I just don't have the energy to pluck.

My daughter just came up to me and hugged and and told me...

"Mommy, you look so beautiful! I love you!"

Only in her eyes....



****EDIT****

45 minutes straight at the dinner table and she is still giggling and still in awe at how I can "got your nose!" off her face and make it wiggle in between my fingers just like my thumb can do. She really thinks it's her nose. She makes me giggle.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

It's only 103.5.

Ya know those little Mucinex-Jabba-The-Hut looking fuckers on that commercial? I think they are holding a casting call or a family gathering or some shit in my head. I was fine one day. Now...not so much. Hit me like a ton of HOT bricks. On the plus side? Way wicked, groovy hallucinations to go along with the fever and the chills. Ya know that Honda Odyssey commercial with the viking and all the colors? Yeah...that was so happening in my living room at 4am this morning. What can I say. My fever induces commercials.

I almost wish I was a hypochondriac. Cuz then I would be all faking this sick since June shit.

Today is FCB's birthday. My daughter threw up on him this morning....TWICE! She gives the best presents! That's muh girl!

Now if you will excuse me, the ants that are crawling through my veins are commanding me to go shave my head cuz the Mucinex blobs need more light for their gathering.

Monday, October 6, 2008

And what a lovely river it is...

I find myself, lately, perplexed at odd times about the fact that I am an adult. Let me clarify. I am going about my usual daily routine, like cleaning (yeah right) or shopping or driving and it suddenly hits me that I am an adult. A full fledged adult. With a kid and all. At times that just strikes me as completely alien and strange. The responsibility of it all. The control factor. The responsibility. The responsibility.

We recently took a day trip to Disney (and yes Meuse, there will be a blog about it...with pics) and several times during the day I was struck with the odd reality that I was an adult enjoying all that the park had to offer with my child. I had the responsibility of choosing the rides and the path through the park and where we went to eat and what we bought. It was interesting to kind of stand back and observe myself being all adult and stuff.

It happened today again at the store. Just this odd detachment that make me think..."Hey, I'm all grown up and adult like."

I don't feel like an adult most of the time. Just a person. Sure I do what I want, when I want. I just have these odd moments of ADULT that kind of smack me in the face every once in a while. Responsibility likes to backhand bitch slap me on occasion, too. I guess I am just so weirded out over the fact that my baby is going to be 5 years old in 2 weeks. It just makes me seem too...adult.

So join me, won't you, as I float peacefully down that lovely river we have all been down before (as I try my hardest to not grow up), you know the one I'm talking about....Denial. (or the Nile...whatever.)

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Whoohoo! My first embed...as opposed to inbed

Which may be a side effect of this...

If I ever needed to know where something is...

So today the Punk came home from school and told me all about her day in her usual twittering way. Bits and pieces in a high pitched voice. I can't tell if this is because she is really excited or is learning to fake enthusiasm at an early age. Could be either one. So she asked for her usual afternoon treat of chocolate milk and cookies. Low and behold the slacker that is mom...I forgot to bake or buy cookies and we are currently out. She comes up to me and pats me on the belly like I'm a bad dog or a Buddha statue and says, "That's OK, Mommy, you can just give me some pudding."

Sure enough she goes straight to the fridge and opens the door and points right to the last pudding cup. Wow. Did you have that last pudding cup lojacked, Punk? She grabbed a spoon and all was well with the afternoon...or so I thought.

I little while later, she comes to me and says she wants some chips. Now my daughter is not into just any chips. She will turn her nose up at anything in a bag. It must be the chips in the can. Ya know. Pringles. She can even tell if you are eating them without her by the sound of the seal on the can popping. She is worse than a pet and a can opener.

I inform her that (once again, like a bad mom that forgot to stock up) we are all out of chips. She informs me matter-of-factly that there are chips in the house. Oh yeah? Where? (I challenged her because I would have bet money I was right.) She grabs a kitchen chair, pulls it up to the counter, climbs up to the drinking glass cabinet, and points to the highest shelf which she still cannot reach. I pull her down and climb up there myself. (I'm 5'9" and FCB is 6'2" so he knows where the good hiding places are.) Sure enough there is a can of chips. Seems the dad-guy was holding back. He probably put it up there thinking she wasn't paying attention. Hahaha..yeah right. Knowing my luck if she wasn't watching him do it, she can just read minds.

So she got her chips. I would have lost that bet. Oh well, I'll take solace in the fact that when the FCB goes looking for his next stash of goodies, he will come up with a can of chips containing one single chip left. (oooh, I am just so baaaaad!)