Short little blog...call it a comeback!

     Hey everyone!  It's been way too long since I did this!  I don't quite have a topic so we'll see where this goes.... First, I'll give you all an update.  My last blog set my personal record for blog views at close to 3,000.  I was super excited about that, that blog was somewhat of a tell~all about my personal experience with divorce.  While it was full of awesomeness I would love to see that many views for my typical blogs, full of funny and no drama!  But I will never get there unless I start writing them again.
   
    And I have stumbled upon a topic.  Kids in sports.  Particularly, my kids.  I'm sure there is a wide spectrum on how parents feel about their kids participating in sports.  You  have the parents that prefer to have their kids reading books as opposed to joining the neanderthal world of organized sports, to the crazy parents that run out on the wrestling mat to throw a hissy fit when their child gets pinned and then fight the winners parents in the parking lot.  With the "bookworm" parents being a 0 and the "crazy" parents being a 10, you could say I'm about a 9.

     Don't get me wrong, I will never embarrass my kids by throwing fits or complaining to coaches or fighting anybody.  But, I am super competitive.  SUPER.  I get so hyped about sports and my kids being good at them that I wonder if I'm going to explode.  Surely I'm not the most competitive person on Earth, but sometimes I think I might be.  Truthfully, my kids have no idea that I hope they are God's gift to sports.  I always tell them to do their best and that's good enough.  I only give "constructive" criticism, and I always tell them good job, I'm proud of you....all the good things parents should say.  And I mean every word.  I love my kids and their talents don't determine their worth to me, I'll love them the same even if they ride every bench there is.  Not everybody is going to be good at everything.  I realize that.  Hey, I rode the bench during summer league basketball in 7th grade and my Pops still loved me.  Sure he wore a hat and made me ride home in the trunk.......but he was at every game up to the final one when Coach made me "at least TRY to score once during the season."  I got that ball, ran it all the way down court, realized whistles were blowing..........I forgot to dribble...the whole way down.  Not to mention people kept screaming at me to get out of some imaginary "lane".

 Nate is 4 years old and he just started wrestling.  He's had 2 practices and I'm already seeing the bright lights of a UFC cage in his future.  I have no idea if he possesses any talent whatsoever.  Here's what I do know.  The kid asked me to take his training wheels off when he was 2 and I refused, thinking that would be dumb.  When he turned 3 one of his training wheels broke, so I finally took them off.  He took off like a bat out of hell with more coordination than I've seen displayed by any 3 year old EVER.  Granted, I've only known like five 3 year old kids, that is besides the point.  He builds ramps and jumps them, pops wheelies and barrels down hillsides.  He is insane!  I feel like he must be a beast.  A beast with a blankie.  I don't want any little guys getting hurt, but I feel like Nate would have a jump on the competition if I taught him a sleeper hold or something, but then again his T-Rex arms are too short to practice on me and I don't want him to put his sister's to sleep.  Here's what else I know: Nate once told a grown man he could make him cry.  I don't know if he could have, but his confidence is also beastly.  I have, however,  noticed that for a coordinated kid he is not catching on to stretches AT ALL.  If you can't make a circle with your arm, how are you going to make it in life?  I sit there and watch him mess up, it looks like he's swatting at his own elbows.  In my head I'm yelling "Your range of motion sucks!!"  I watch him at practice like somehow I can use my thoughts to control his arms and legs, well, that doesn't work.

     Dana is an 11 year old trapped in the most toned, muscular body ever on an 11 year old.  (I've known like eight 11 year old kids...soooo I would be the expert here)  She has to be full of beastly talent!  I don't know what she will end up being good at, but I do know it's not math.  She's smart but doesn't care to apply herself....is that what all parents say when their kids grades are lacking?  Anyways, she does have all kinds of natural talent for dance, ballet and gymnastics, she is headed for the world of cheerleading I think.  I've always pushed her to be herself, but I have to admit I hoped she would steer more towards sports than cheerleading.  But, just because I love sports that involve balls more than cheerleading doesn't mean she has to.  She did ask to wrestle.  But since she is not allowed to touch boys...in any way...ever, I had to tell her no.  And my cheerleader friends who are still upset about my last comment, you can all calm down.  I know cheerleading is a sport.  I can't do toe-touches for an hour straight, you win.  I just hope Dana cheerleads like a boss.

     Lexi just started middle school....She started volleyball and basketball and wants to do track.  In 6th grade you don't get to do much, but at least she will be prepared next year.  And I have been feeding her even more vegetables.  Maybe she will grow.  Lex happens to be good at everything she tries to do, except public speaking, she has been known to put her head down and...well, I don't really know what she was doing...trying to teleport herself somewhere else or something.  Let's just say it didn't work out.  But, I'm telling you she is super good at everything.  And I'm all over her yelling, "she get it from her mama!"  Any time the kids aren't awesome, obviously I don't blame myself.  Then I'm all, "she get it from...some other part of her genetic line that isn't on my side of the family"  People always look at me weird when I say that, but whatever.... it's truth people.

     I think it's cool to be psycho about your kids being awesome, as long as you keep it to yourself.  What they don't know won't hurt them.  But I wanna see some take-downs, some points being scored, some records set...let's do this!  Can I end up with 3 professional athletes?!?  I'll keep my fingers crossed.  But as long as nobody comes home pregnant before they're 40 (and out of their prime as far as sports go)....then I'll be happy.  Cause all I can really ask for is some good kids, with some good morals and values,  that end up happy....sports or no sports. (but I hope sports).

   

*Warning ~ Drama Alert!!

Here it is folks.  What you've all been waiting for:  Jess is going to blog about her divorce.  As some of you may know I separated from my ex-husband over a year and half ago, our divorce was final last May. Altogether I was with this guy around 14 years. We started dating when I was about 15. That's a long, long time. It should have been 'til death do us part but if I had stayed with him I would have died sooner.  So, I guess you could look at my decision to get a divorce as a pro-life choice.  You might wonder what took so long for a blog?  Well, from the beginning of all this I did not want to be a part of that divorce scenario where people act all crazy.  So I laid low and let everybody else dig themselves a hole with their lies and stupidity, but there comes a time when things need to be set straight and that time is today!

For anybody who wants the short version of this story it goes like this:  There once was a girl named Jess, she was pretty awesome but married a Dbag.  Her awesomeness continued and the douche bags douchebaggery got worse.  She divorced and was mad awesome about it and the douche bag was a douche bag about it.  To this day she remains awesome and the douche bag remains a douchbag and Jess lived happily.... AFTER she cleared up all the lies Dbag told.  THE END.

Now, HERE is the longer, juicier, more detailed version of the story, so get your popcorn and get comfy:  *Warning: If at any point during or after reading this your little heart has the desire to come to my house and disrespect me, I have recently lifted my "no male family member beating asses for my benefit" ban.
I have standards for MYSELF.  No matter what anybody does to me I am going to handle the situation according to what I believe is right.  At the end of the day I am the one that has to live with the decisions I make and I want to be able to feel that I handled things the best way I knew how.  I am obviously not perfect, far from it, but I know that I try my best.  It may seem like I am defending myself or justifying my decisions....that's because I am!  Good call!  This may not make sense but it's the truth: I don't reallllly give 2 craps what anybody thinks about me or my decisions, ~BUT~ at the same time I think that I deserve that people know the truth about me, I am who I am and anybody thinking I am something that I'm not really isn't fair to me.  Ya feel me?  For the most part I'm sure that people use good common sense and already know I take care of mine.  For those of you that have had my back, stuck up for me and not ran their mouth about me...I know who you are and I appreciate it.  Word gets around and I have even been surprised by the people that have called it like they see it, you guys are awesome for that!

So, I'm doing a little bit of sticking up for myself, running damage control, whatever you want to call it.  Word gets back to me when people try to make things up about me or tell this story in a way that is just a fat lie.  I have no reason to lie, that's because I don't do things that I'll want to lie about!  It's that simple.  If anybody out there can say I'm a liar please stand up, seriously, call me out.  There will be no takers on that one.

I decided, on my own, me~by myself, to file for divorce.  The final straw was the realization that he had a problem with drugs.  That is when I told him to leave.  Call me stupid (because I clearly was in fact stupid), but I had no idea.  Put that on top of a gambling problem, alcohol problem and a huge suspicion that he was cheating along with the fact that he was an absent husband and father and everything else he should have been and that equals divorce.  And to clarify, at the time I only suspected he was cheating, I could prove nothing.  And I am not the jealous type....you know, the girl who thinks you're cheating just because she can't see you...haha...that is NOT me.  So if I suspect you're cheating it's probably because you are.  AND he was.  It has since been confirmed that that most definitely happened.  In fact he was in a "relationship" with somebody at the time that I kicked him out.  And being that I have NEVER EVER EVER cheated on my ex, I'm just happy I walked away from that relationship without an STD.  For real!  If you don't believe me then you don't know me!  In fact, I dare anybody to come forward if they were intimate with me in ANY way!  I never even looked at another man in any way but a friendly one.  Well, now that I'm thinking about it I wasn't 'permitted' to look at a man let alone be friends with one.... so I guess I closed my eyes a lot...?  Just clarifying in case anybody ever even tried to think I'm a hoe cause that would be false!     

If I tried to describe to you what the marriage was like I'd have to write a book and quite frankly I don't feel like it.  Plus it was terrible and nobody wants to read a terrible book!  What I will say is that when I left the marriage I knew I had tried everything I could to make it work.  There is not one thing that can be named that I didn't try.  That's how my Pops raised me what can I say?!  Even my in-laws (his parents) told me for years that they didn't know why I hadn't divorced him.  You can quote me on that.  QUOTE ME!  It was said several times over the years.  Now, once again I'll say that I know I'm not perfect, but I never did anything remotely close to bad enough to end a marriage.  I did stuff like burn dinner.... or get mad when he was going out for the 64th night straight (this literally happened), that kinda stuff.  WHATEVER!  As much as my ex likes to pretend, he would have never left me.  Yeah, I said it.  He had it too good.  A loyal, understanding and honest wife who took care of the kids and the house and every single other thing while he partied his life away, c'mon!  The way the story has been told is that I was a raging bitch that he couldn't stand and that HE left me and wanted a divorce and I would not sign the papers.  I'm laughing about that to this day.  If I was really that way he would have left a long time ago.  And look at this, I even have further proof to back up how stupid that is.  He certainly would not have spent the first 7 months we were separated trying to convince me to take him back.  Of course he had a girlfriend I was unaware of during this time. ~ So we are clear here, NONE of his smooth talking worked AT ALL.  He did convince me to go to marriage counseling with him though.  I doubt his girlfriend knew!  I told him HE had to pick the counselor and that it had to be a MAN so that he would have no excuses like saying, "the counselor was a woman, that's why she's on your side".  So we went to this "man counselor" a few times.  Well, it didn't work out.  In the end my ex got pissed off and stormed out cause even the counselor could see how full of crap he was, and I was advised that going back to that relationship would be a bad decision.  Duh.  Shortly after this counseling business I found out about my exes girlfriend.  I was truly happy for this news.  And I will be more than happy to tell you why!  I knew that if I could tell her that he was still trying to get me back the shit would hit the fan.  So I got on facebook and looked her up.  I was unable to message her because we weren't "facebook friends", so I put a post on my page.  (Knowing how great the FB world is at passing along a message!)  It said "will someone please tell (girlfriend's name) to have (my ex) sign the divorce papers I filed a long time ago so I can finally have the divorce I asked for.  You're relationship would probably be a lot better if he wasn't married.  Thanks!!!"  (check FB, it's still on my wall)  Well, she obviously got the news!!  Within 5 minutes my ex was texting me, cussing me out, claiming I was trying to ruin his life because I couldn't move on...and so on and so forth.  I'm guessing he worded it that way so he could be slick and show his girlfriend the texts and make it seem like he wasn't trying to get me back because apparently the whole time they were together he was telling her that he wasn't divorced because I wouldn't sign the papers!  Ha!  Well he got the point and left me alone after that, which is EXACTLY what I wanted, so you see, him having a girlfriend made me very happy.  (not happy for her, I felt sorry for the poor girl, she didn't know what she was in for...although....she has figured it out by now)  So now you know the truth of that matter, at least the major details.  He continued to not show up for court dates and not sign the papers for months after that.  He always claimed he didn't have time to sign them because he worked.  All he had to do was go to the library, which is open every day and sign it in front of the notary, we all know this takes about 60 seconds.  I believe that he drug this out so long in an effort to avoid paying child support as long as possible.  (I'll get to that later) He drug it out so long that even the judge was pissed and eventually she called a notary into her courtroom to do it right then and there so he could quit wasting all of our time.  It was quite funny, she even wanted to give me everything, including things I didn't even ask for, because he was being so ridiculous.  This is on record, if you don't believe me go look at courtroom reports. 

This brings me to my next point.  What did I get in the divorce?  Well, let me first say that I wanted nothing from my ex except a signature, give me a divorce.  I have heard around town that I took everything, I have received several nasty text messages from my ex that I take every penny he has and so forth.  FALSE!  In fact, I'll start from the beginning.  When it came to the parenting agreement I asked him to make the agreement, to tell me exactly what he wanted.  After weeks of me begging he finally said he would see his kids on Mondays and Tuesdays from 5pm-7pm.  I told him that he worked during those times and that it didn't make sense.  He didn't see the good reasoning there, so I wrote it on the parenting agreement.  I then begged him to take Sundays because he is always off work that day.  He said no several times and then told me to write down every-other Sunday but that he wasn't sure if he would be able to do that.  (what a joke)  Then he wanted me to be in charge of all the major decisions for the kids and he didn't care about holidays, so I, on my own, gave him Fathers Day, Halloween and Easter, and half of Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve and Christmas and so forth.  I did everything I could. If you don't believe me you can see the agreement and the text messages backing up what I'm saying.  Now, to make my point even more clear, I have never stopped him from seeing his kids.  IN FACT there are many, many witnesses that will confirm that I bent over backwards to make it happen.  Several times I picked my ex up and took him to MY house and then I left MY house so he could hang out with them and then I drove him home!  I have also dropped them off to him and picked them up, none of which is my responsibility!  So please, excuse me while I laugh hysterically at the claim that I keep his kids from him.  I could even show you the many text messages I have sent him begging him to stop being selfish and think about his kids.  This is the most offensive to me because when someone says I am "being a dictator with these kids" OR keeping them from their dad, they are insinuating that I do not put my kids first.  These kids are always TOP priority to me, no matter how I feel about anything they come FIRST.  100% of the time I do what is best for them and you can quote me on that.  I will NOT fail MY kids in that department because I love them and they deserve to have a mother who always puts them ahead of herself.  THAT is my job and I take it VERY seriously.  I can prove it, I always have proved it, I always will prove it and anyone who says otherwise can shove it up their blind butt.  ANYONE who says that is a complete and total idiot.  So if you're reading this and that has left your mouth, YOU ARE AN IDIOT.  Did I get that point across?  I'll bet everyone in this entire town will stand behind me on the fact that my kids come first, with the exception of the handful of "IDIOTS" whose real problem is that they want things to be MY fault so they don't have to believe that my ex is the deadbeat that he is.  Well, I didn't raise him so that's not my fault either.  To further make my point to this very day my ex has never, not once, seen them on a Monday or a Tuesday, including the ones when he was laid off.  For the first year he would see them once every 30-60 days.  He is currently averaging once a month.  When he does show up, the hours he requested in the agreement are 10am-6pm, he is almost always late and he always texts me that he's bringing them back early.  So he sees them about 6 hours a month, give or take a few minutes.  And for the sake of being honest there have been 2 or 3 times when he wanted them on a day that is not his in the parenting plan, I have learned that his girlfriend pushed him to do this, so thanks for that...and being the crazy dictator that I am I happily said yes to this request.  I am soooo unreasonable!  Also, his girlfriend asked me if she could take my girls to the pool even though my ex wouldn't even be there and I said yes to that too.  Could I be any less dictator-like than I already am?  Wow!  Another interesting point to make is that the kids spent a year and half begging for a sleepover.  They finally got one (which I also said yes to) and my 10 year old said she stayed up til 2 in the morning playing Grand Theft Auto.  Wow.  Also, the fact is, that if I tried to stop him from seeing his kids all he would have to do is call the cops because in a legal document he has every right to see them during his appointed time and the cops would say so.  Again, if you don't believe me, it can be proven, but most of you already know my ex isn't with his kids because you see what kind of life he leads.

I've obviously done the best I can with the parenting agreement so here is a list of all the other things I was entitled to during the divorce: alimony or spousal support, half of his retirement, half of his pension, half of his annuity, the house and child support.  And this list doesn't even touch on things like the cost of the kids going to college one day.  WV law REQUIRES that my ex pay child support, therefore I have no decision to make there.  SO, what did I ask for?  Absolutely NOTHING.  Not one thing.  My lawyer told me I wasn't being smart and that I deserved and was entitled to all of that.  But I decided going in that all I wanted was a divorce.  Nothing else.  I would not fight over a single thing.  I ASKED for NOTHING!!  That is how it went.  The judge asked me if I wanted it and I said NO.  She even threatened to give it to me anyways because my ex was dragging the divorce on, I did not want it.  This is all a matter of public record, if you do not believe me, go look.  I have the papers here that state I did not ask for any of that.  Man, I am such a greedy, evil dictator!  Give me a break!  It couldn't have been any easier on him.  As for these text messages I receive from him regularly getting all angry because I take every penny he has, is he serious?  WV law requires that, not me.  The judge has a formula she has to go by to find the correct amount and then they have to take it directly out of his paycheck because he does not pay it on his own.  And this is my fault how?  Or how about this...what kind of crazy person partakes in making 3 children and then gets upset when they have to contribute to them monetarily?  In fact, when the parenting agreement first came up my ex actually tried to convince me to put in the agreement that he would have them 50% of the time, even though he really wouldn't, so that they wouldn't make him pay child support and that he would just give me money.  I'm serious that is exactly what he said.  My reply was, and I quote, "you don't give me any money now?  What in the world makes you think I'm gonna believe you'll give me money then!?!"  That brings up the first 10 months we were separated.  The day I kicked my ex out I had 0 dollars and 0 cents and no car because he recently sold the only car we had (drugs'll do that I guess).  At the time I was a stay-at-home mom and had not gone to college.  My ex was in no way, shape or form supporting his kids and I was doing everything I could to take care of them, we were broke and going without a lot of things.  Seriously, at one point I just did not have the money for the gas bill and it was shut off.  It stayed off for a month and a half.  That means no hot showers, no cooking on my stove, no heat.  I called my ex every day about paying this so his kids didn't have to go through that.  Not a penny came from him.  It took 6 weeks but I was able to save enough to have it turned back on.  Don't believe me?  Ask one of the many friends who let us come shower at their house.  You know who to ask.  That's just one example, I could give you many.  And just an FYI, I don't mind hard times, I experienced them growing up and it's not such a bad thing.  I make the best of any situation and I used it as an opportunity to teach my kids how to handle life when things get rough.  And my kids really made me proud of them during the hard times.  They never once complained and jumped right on the bandwagon with me and always said things like, "It's okay, things'll get better."  If you know us, you know my kids are pretty awesome.... and sweet and kind and that is exactly some stuff that would come out of their mouth's.  And it showed me I must be doing an okay job with them.  This lack of support went on for almost an entire year before the court ordered the child support to be taken directly out of his pay.  In the meantime I had been working my butt off with cleaning jobs and window jobs to take care of us and things were starting to get easier.  I also started college and in 10 months I'll graduate, so I will have the work I do now plus that degree to fall back on so I know these kids will always have what they need.  That's what a single mom has to do because you are the only one you can rely on, child support can stop at any time, kind of like I'm not getting any now. 

Some of you may be wondering how I still live in me and my exes house.  Well, the judge said that whoever had custody of the kids would reside in the house with them until they moved out or the kids turned 18.  At that point the house would be sold and split down the middle.  This is where things start to get a little tricky.  When we bought this house I had good enough credit for a loan, but my ex didn't.  However, the bank wouldn't put the loan in my name because I had no income.  So, my exes dad co-signed with my ex.  Keep in mind I told them not to do this and I even refused to go look at the house they wanted to buy.  They did it anyways.  Well my exes dad then paid for a new driveway and replacement windows, which we were to pay back when we sold the house eventually or whenever we could.  Well, once divorce proceedings started my exes dad came to my house and to sum it up stated that he had money in this house and his name's on the loan so it should be his so he could make sure he got his money back in the end and then he assured me that he loved me and the kids and that he would do anything he could to help us and that we could stay here as long as we wanted.  Well, I had already decided I wasn't fighting for anything in this divorce and I told him that I was fine with it and that I know he wouldn't want to do anything to hurt us and so forth.  Well, my ex has made a career out of trying to get rid of the great relationship I had with my in-laws, and I realized yesterday, he was successful.  I've always had a great relationship with my exes whole family, much better than the relationship even he'd had with them.  Family was never very important to him, even they have said so.  A lot of people warned me that in a divorce people will turn on me and blah blah blah.  I said noooo they would never do that.  Um, yeah they will folks.  They will look for something, anything they can jump on and find a reason to turn on you.  Here's what they had on me.  After over a year of craziness, when my ex finally signed those divorce papers, I went home from court and put on my facebook, "Best day ever!!"  I received a lot of comments and somebody asked me why it was the best day ever.  I told them because my ex finally signed the papers.  I know terrible right.  Well, my ex mother-in-law does not even have a facebook, so somebody called her up and told her about my status.  She was highly offended I guess and told me a whole bunch of crap including that my status "was a slap in the face to the whole family"  That is a quote people.  How ridiculous is that?  Me and her grand kids were treated like crap for years and were put second in line to alcohol, gambling, drugs and women, and then those kids were not supported and seen minimally by their father, her son, for nearly a year and I say "best day ever" after a judge gets sick of his crap too and brings a notary into her courtroom to finally put a stop to it and ~I~ have metaphorically slapped the whole family in the face?  What crazy train is she riding?!?  It was a completely vague statement.  And what balls she has acting like it's offensive for me to call that a good day.  It was a great day!  And she's been through enough divorces herself to know what a relief it is to be divorced from a complete D-bag!  So she has been rude to me since that happened, but I was never rude to her.  When she told me about the slap in the face all I said was "I'm sorry that it hurt your feelings, and we'll talk about it when I get home from school."  She said we didn't need to talk about it.  So I guess she can use that to make her feel justified in treating me like crap now.  Whatever, I saw her true colors and I want no part of it.  So after that my father-in-law has been the only one trying to keep some form of contact with me.  Make no mistake that I am fully aware that he's in agreement with my mother-in-law about me, no matter how nice he tries to act.  I know this because the woman doesn't have an opinion of her own.  His opinion is her opinion.  To finish this story I'll need to start with last Sunday.  My ex was supposed to get his kids at 10.  Right before 10 I get a text from him asking to get them at 11 instead.  Well, this particular morning I was going to be home anyways so I said that was fine but that he should keep them an hour later to make up for it and he said okay.  Look how mean I am!  I could have lawfully said no, your time is 10 and after you're 30 minutes late I simply don't have to be here for you to get them.  But because I care about what my kids want I don't do that.  Anyways, he finally shows up at nearly 1130.  And then at 5 texts me that he is bringing them back early.  Well, as you all can imagine I'm pretty sick of him not being reliable to his kids so I texted him, "on the days you decide to show up your hours are 10-6 and I will no longer respond to any texts trying to change anything.  You need to think about your kids and not yourself.  Your children are getting tired of you being unreliable."  I copied this directly from my phone people.  And I meant it.  I'm tired of going out of my way so he can continue to be unreliable.  That's called enabling!  So then on Tuesday I get a text from him, "I need the kids Friday, my brother will be home, maybe 630-8."  I said "no".  Here's the deal with that.  1. I already had plans for Friday and 2. I don't have to explain that to him, no is sufficient, especially considering the events of that past Sunday and the entire year and a half prior to that.  Of course within a few minutes I receive a call from his dad, which I don't answer because I surely don't have to explain myself to him either.  The next couple days I got a couple more phone calls and even saw his dad waiting for me in my driveway.  I'm not quite sure why they all feel I owe them an explanation about my plans for Friday, which is not a day my ex is supposed to have the kids anyways.  So the next day, Thursday, I send my girls off to their first day of school.  I had a cleaning job right after I dropped them off and then I went home to have a mama and son day...just the 2 of us.  My exes dad shows up.  Trust me, I know word for word what happened from there and I'm not going to take the time to type it all out so basically as usual I remained calm while he became more and more angry.  Now remember this is all because they aren't getting what they want on Friday evening or something.  I told him I already told my ex no, but he sat there as if he still needed an explanation.  So I told him that I already had plans but that I also didn't have to explain myself to anybody.  This made him angry so he became louder and tried to say my ex and him and his wife weren't going to put up with my s*** and that I'm being a dictator with these kids.  I said being a dictator how?  He couldn't answer.  He tried to change the subject and talk about the house.  I pointed out that he wanted to say his piece and then not let me talk and then he'd change the subject.  He got angrier and said he'd take me to court.  I said take me to court for what?  He couldn't answer this either so he told me "Your being a bitch!"  (mind you I have remained calm this entire time)  So I said, "okay you can leave I'm not going to have you over here calling me a bitch."  He tried to say he didn't call me a bitch and I said, "you just said, you're being a bitch"  this made him angrier so he said, "I'll call the cops" I said, "go ahead", so then he said, "I'm notifying you now and I'll notify you tomorrow in writing that YOU ARE EVICTED!"  I said, "do what you gotta do", and he stormed out.  What details I left out are minor and don't change the story, but if you really want them just ask.  So much for "I don't wanna put you out, live here as long as you want to"... I guess that came with a stipulation on it, one that says I better explain myself to them and do what they want or else I'm evicted.  So this is what I get out of that.  Oh what?  The three of them want my kids so they can pretend they're father of year and number 1 grandparents in front of people?  Ha.  My kids aren't their little show dogs.  Y'all these people have never wanted time with my kids.  They are uninvolved grandparents and the only reason they were ever around my kids is because I would go to their house and visit them.  And this applies to all of their grand kids not just my kids.  So let this be a lesson to them.  Quit being D-bags and treating people like crap for no reason.  Not one of them can say I ever wronged them.  Not my ex or his parents...or the rest of the family.  All they can do is continue fooling themselves into thinking I have somehow offended them.  And the worst part is, they are only hurting the kids. 

I would also like to mention that during my marriage I was informed several times by my ex mother-in-law that 'it takes two to make the marriage or break it.'  This is one of the dumbest things I've ever heard leaving an adults mouth.  One person can make a marriage fail, and one person did.  A marriage can in fact be ruined by one person and it clearly was.  I've never heard her claim any fault in the failure of her first marriages to jerks. But I guess the "it takes two" theory should only apply when it benefits you.

I'm not sure people understand.  I am happy!  My kids are happy and we have a peaceful home.  If you know me you know how true this is.  I don't give a crap about any of these people who are mad about it.  So, I'd say it was a long time coming for me to defend myself.  And I guess to the people that ran their mouth in the first place lying and trying to make me look bad.  Well, it probably wasn't the best idea to try to make me out to be something I'm not because I was bound to defend myself and now those same people don't look so good when the truth comes out.  And the best thing about the truth is there is proof.....for everything in this blog, even the ridiculous way my ex-father-in-law acted at my house, because my cousin was there and heard it all. 

My cousin read over this blog before I was about to post it.  He looked at me and said, "I'm actually pissed that you didn't mention one time in there that you have Crohn's disease and how he treated you."  I told him he could be a guest writer and add a paragraph of his own, but I'm in a hurry and that would have taken a couple more days.  But I decided he's right, I will mention that.  For those of you who don't know Crohn's is an inflammatory digestive disease of unknown cause and no known cure.  It has been proven however that stress is a big factor, and seeing how I haven't really had a bad flare up since I got rid of my ex I'm going to say that's probably true.  It is said that Crohn's is debilitating and it truly is.  It affects your whole life including your ability to function on a normal level.  I have been dealing with this for almost 10 years.  I will give you just a couple examples of the ignorance that went on.  Not one time did my ex ever help me with this in any way.  He claims that because he called the doctors office for me once that he went above the call of duty.  (bahaha)  One time I was really sick.  I'm skinny to begin with and I should weigh about 115 pounds, I was down to 99 pounds and running a fever over 103 for days.  I could not physically even get out of bed.  My ex still went out every night and slept every day so I called John to come help me.  I was so sick that most of those days are a blur now.  I do remember John took care of my kids and me all day.  And all night he was changing cold rags on my head and fanning me with a magazine trying to keep me cool.  I'm not sure if he even slept during this time.  My ex did not want to give up sleep time or party time to take care of the kids, so he let me know that I should only go to the hospital if I thought it was really serious (as if being under 100 pounds and visibly very sick wasn't enough).  I finally said I needed to go to the hospital.  My ex was in bed so John tried to wake him up to change my clothes and carry me to the car.  My ex would not even get out of bed and told John just to let him know if we left.  I was near death I think and couldn't move so John covered me with a blanket so I wasn't exposed and managed to get me dressed himself.  This must have seemed cool with my ex but it wasn't cool to us.  And then he carried me like a baby out to his car, drove me to hospital and carried me in.  We had to stay there for 4 days so I could be nursed back to health.  Only one of those days did my ex make a quick appearance.  John sat by my side.  On another occasion I was told to try a new medicine that came with severe side effects.  This happened with about 8 different medications over the course of time and my ex never helped me through any of it, but this particular time was the worst.  The medication made me puke violently and I could not walk for almost a week.  It was weird but it was as if I was paralyzed from the waist down.  My ex went out every night.  When I saw him getting ready to leave I would say, "I can't believe you're leaving me like this, I can't even walk and I have to take care of the kids."  He literally looked at me and said, "How convenient, every time I try to leave you tell me your sick just to try to keep me here!"  Craziness.  I literally had to army crawl around my house, pulling myself along with only my arms.  I would crawl to the kitchen and pull myself up to the counter to try to make my kids something to eat.  That is heartless.  I wouldn't treat a stranger like that let alone my own spouse.  That is just 2 examples.  I have hundreds more if you want them.  Not once did he ever help me, not once.  Many people have tried to tell me that the stress of being married to my ex was what was making me sick to begin with.  Probably.

Actions always speak louder than words.  I don't care if you want to hate me or lie about me or persuade others to hate me too.  It's obvious through my actions what kind of person I am.  I don't have time to lead a life caring about what idiots think or say about me.  I've handled myself well through my marriage and my divorce.  I have a life to go live.  A life that I am making the best of, with my 3 awesome kids.  All the idiots can continue being pathetic and wasting their lives away being hateful and nasty.  I have said it before and I'll say it again.  Kids grow up and they figure things out.  Just because I am a good mother and choose not to drag my kids into all this BS doesn't mean they won't eventually know.  They will become adults and then it will be too late.  Why am I the only one that can see this coming?

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Camping Expedition Gone Thuggishly Wrong

I took my kids on their very first camping trip a few weeks ago.  It’s sad that this is their first and there are several lame reasons for that, but what’s important is that they finally got to do it.  It was a last minute trip so we ended up going somewhere close.  Barkcamp.  Never again.  This story is crazy.  I took with me my 2 younger brothers, my younger sister and my 3 kiddos.  We got all the necessary stuff (basically what you need for s'mores) and headed out.  We set up camp, cooked hotdogs and s’mores and hobo pies, sat around the campfire, peed in the woods (cause the outhouses are siiick!), and did all the typical camp stuff.  After dark at about 10:30 another group showed up and set up camp right next to us.  We couldn’t really see them all in the dark but you could tell by listening to them that they were quite a trashy group and this was probably going to be a problem.  They set up camp and I noticed they had brought a little boy with them…about 4 years old.  This kid was so bad.  No matter what they said to him he would cuss them out.  I am in no way exaggerating, I have 6 witnesses.  This kids mouth was outta control!  If they offered him a marshmallow he would yell out, “F*** YOU, YA A**! (His version includes the actual cuss words)  One lady, apparently his mother kept chasing him and cussing back at him, he’d cuss at her and so on.  This was non-stop, literally.  She threatened to leave several times.  Which means she walked towards the parking lot ~aka right next to our tent~ and would scream at him to get in the car.  She was waking up those of us that were sleeping.  She had less common sense than the 4 year old.  At one point she got him in the car, started it, turned her headlights on (right at us), and threatened to leave while he cussed her out.  She gave up and finally shut her car off and let the kid back out.  At this point it’s 3:30 am, he takes off and literally runs a circle through the entire campsite yelling F*** YOU at his mom.  I could even hear people in the distance yelling at them to shut their kid up.  Originally, I was going to keep my mouth shut because I didn’t want to have to pack up in the middle of the night and leave during the kids first camping trip, but I was getting more and more pissed as the night went on.  At that moment the kid actually fell asleep and the rest of the night was peaceful.  So I drifted off to sleep chuckling to myself at the thought of a short story I decided to write them.  When I woke up the next morning I immediately remembered this note I wanted to write to make myself laugh about the whole situation.  I grabbed a notepad and pen and went to work on my short story.  I entitled it, “and you thought kids didn’t come with a manual.” By Jess Blake  Page 1:  Parenting 101: The only rule you need to know: Beat that kids ass!  If I had to spend another hellish night camping next to you I would also include the short story “camping etiquette for a**holes”  The End.  Well, they had 2 tents and I had no idea how many people were there and who was in which tent so the only logical place to leave the note was under the windshield wiper of the car with it’s headlights on us the night before.  So I stuck it there.  We started packing up because we wanted to go kayaking and no way in hell were we leaving our stuff next to these people.  After we cooked sausage and scrambled eggs and toast our “neighbors” started to wake up.  They looked how I imagined.: Big ole’ women and skinny dudes with pony tails.  Hey, I don’t mean to profile, but it is what it is.  So the mom heads to her car and finds the note.  She reads it, walks right past me and passes it around to everyone else.  I find this hilarious.  They all read it and nobody says a word!  That surprised me, but whatever.  About an hour passes, we are packing up and this dude shows up out of nowhere to their campsite.  I’m terrible with height/weight descriptions but I’d say he was over 6 foot tall…bout 250.  He reads the short story and grumbled around about it for a few minutes.  Then he walks closer to our campsite (yet stands far away) and asks who Jess Blake is.  Obviously I claim that and the short story.  He was pissed that I had the word a**holes in my short story.  I told him I’d heard worse out of his 4 year olds mouth til 3:30 in the morning and that I thought my story was funny.  He didn’t like that and became irate.  As soon as he started yelling and cussing one of the ladies thought she would get brave.  She turned towards our campsite, that’s is just turned, didn’t come close or anything and started yelling that her "kid didn’t need his a** beat", over and over.  I told her I wasn’t even gonna argue with her and to turn around.  Meanwhile huge dude over here is yelling out every cuss word he knows.  Nobody cares dude.  First of all you’re ignorant.  Secondly, we can barely hear you from where you’re standing tough guy… and lastly any kind of man who tries to act hard when put up against a 5’2” GIRL is a wussbag!  Go home.  So he walks away and his woman goes to “the general store” to tell on me.  Haha.  She comes back, nothing came of it I guess.  So sad.  But they all sit over at their campsite indirectly talking trash to us.  By that I mean they yelled out things amongst each other which were meant for us to hear but in such a non-threatening and standoffish way that they wouldn’t have to actually back up anything they said.  The following is a list of some of the hilarious things I heard them saying and laughed out loud about:

“I got a temper!  Noble county police know it!  Belmont county knows it! Marshall county knows it! Ohio county knows it!” (and so on)

“If you wanna fight…show up!”

Obviously directed towards my short story, which was perfectly written and contained no misspellings or grammar mistakes whatsoever, “Ya need to learn how to write with your adequate ass!”  I laughed when I heard this and said to everybody, “either he wants me to write the short story WITH my nice butt, or he doesn’t like my story but I have a nice butt.”  Hahaha!  What a moron.  

The funniest thing he kept yelling out was “THUG MOTIVATION!”  ~I’m not sure exactly what that means, I think it just made him feel good.  But…1: dude, you’re white.  2: you have man boobs.  3: In no way shape or form are you acting like a true gangsta’ right now or I would have seen a gun already.  So calm your tits mister.

THEN, I heard him say, as if he were about to do something that would really bother us, “I’m gonna play my rap music, see if they like that!”  This made me smile.  He walked to his car and turned his stereo up as loud as it would go...bumpin' Rick Ross. (I'm a little out of the loop, so if it's not referred to as "bumpin'" anymore...I'm sure you'll let me know.)  It just so happens.... I love rap!  Also, I know this song ya douche!  Haha!  By this time we are just about ready to go kayaking and our cars are almost packed.  He is by his car which is right next to ours so my brother and I are right next to him.  He didn’t say a word.  Probably because his peeps were over at the campsite and not next to him making him feel brave.  I glared at him the whole time and he wouldn’t say anything.  This also made me laugh.  Since he saw we were leaving he turned off his music.  So I pulled my car right behind his bumper and played my rap just so he would know that his attempts at pissing us off were laughable, like his boobs. 

Then we left and made a stop at the "general store".   The biggun’ that went to tell on me showed the clerk my short story earlier.  The clerk told me she thought my story was funny, and that their little group were “those kind of people”.  We told her the true version of the story so she had to call camp security to get rid of them.  I’m not sure if I’ll be writing any more short stories (at least... not with the kids present).  I thought it was funny, but I guess some people can’t take a joke! 

I just want to add that just because I do hilarious things like write funny stories to stupid people, I am not trying to come off as a badass, this is my version of the story, and while it is truthful, I'm guessing that if Mr. SpongeBoob Thugpants were to tell it, it would sound a lot more like he "won" or something.  So I'm letting it be known that I definitely would have had my ass handed to me if that big dude wanted to actually fight me.  Cause even though I know my punches would have been much cleaner than his, he was still really big. (Like his boobs).  I'm serious.  He had me covered.  He was bigger in all of the following areas:  height, weight and boobs.  He also won the screaming match... (I didn't actually participate in the screaming match cause he was really loud and ignorant to the point that I knew he wouldn't hear me anyways, so I just laughed at him.)  I should also give all those other people credit too!  They are, after all, the ones that called the big dude to come to the campsite to handle their stand off with the small girl.  I considered calling my (bigger and better) reinforcements in as well, but I have this rule where I handle my own business and don't need to call in back-up.  Also, I really don't give a crap.  And in closing, THUG MOTIVATION!!!

"The Rapist" x 2

     Story 1:  As you may know I’m finishing up an internship at a Physical Therapy Clinic in Washington.  (This isn’t funny, but you need a little back story to understand where I’m coming from.)  Since I’m going to school for PT assisting I have to do this 6 week internship this summer.  Of course it’s full time and of course I don’t get paid. (8 days left and I’m done!  Wooohoo!)  This means I’m still doing all of my regular “single mom gotta make money” jobs.  So I’m working 70-80 hours a week.  Because I still have to take care of my kiddos and my house most of my days start at 5am and end between midnight and 2am, do the math…3-5 hours of sleep a night.  Not good.  I’m not bragging, many other people have to do the same thing and probably a lot longer than 6 weeks too.   All I’m saying is I’m mad tired, which excuses anything dumb I’ve done. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been truly embarrassed about anything in my life… until this morning.  I went to work and stood at the counter where the daily schedules are laying out.  The clinic I work at has several Physical Therapists so there are 5 teams consisting of a PT, a PT Assistant and an Aide.  I’m on the orange team.  I look over everyone’s schedules when I notice something crazy.  I stare at one of the schedules and decide that another team must be playing a joke on another, got in the computer system and labeled their schedule “THERAPISTS”.  I’m guessing you read this correctly, but how I saw it, in my sleep deprived, near passing out condition, was “THE RAPISTS”.  I stand there and I am really surprised by this.  A PT from a different team walks up to the counter, a PT that I haven’t even spoken with yet during my internship   and I say, “did you see this??!!”  He looked for a moment and says, “ohhh, yeah, they don’t have a very busy schedule today.”  I said, “NO! Look! Someone put THE RAPISTS on there!!” (I pointed at the word for him since clearly he was blind or something.)  He said, “Therapists?”  I looked for a moment then it hit me.  I’m immediately hysterical.  I’m laughing so hard I’m crying.  He looked at me like it was some kind of joke and said, “ARE YOU SERIOUS??”  I laughed harder, cried more and ran off down a hallway and around a corner to hide basically.  After about a full minute I walk back out.  He is still standing there.  The second he saw me he yelled out, “ARE YOU SERIOUS??”  This makes me laugh /cry all over again.  I looked like a complete ass in front of this dude!  Everybody got a laugh out of this and made sure to remind me of it all day long.  A fellow student on internship walked by, pretended he was paging somebody on the PA system, “the rapist room 2, the rapist to room 2.”  I’m an idiot.

     Story 2:  This story has a back story as well.  One I won’t go to into great detail with.  Long story short, there is a sex offender in my neighborhood.  I have known this for years and made my kids aware of it and up to this point he has stayed to himself.  Within the past month he has been messing around my neighbor’s house.  The next house on my road.  To the extent that he was arrested and held for a week on stalking charges (scary, sure).  So I have stepped up my game.  A month ago I would have told you I’m a badass and if somebody ever tried to come at me or my kids I would eff their day up.  This is true, but this dude is a lot bigger than me so if I’m being realistic I should probably realize that while I would gouge eyes, kick nuts and break him off with a mean throatpunch, I’ll still probably lose the fight in the end.  If you know me you are going to give me credit for even admitting this, cause you know… I gotta be a tough guy all the time.  So I talk to everybody I know and come up with a great plan of action.  First I head to my dads house.  I tell him we are going gun shopping.  My step brother Caleb tells me he has a 380 that would be good for me and takes me out to shoot it.  I’ve never fired a gun.  Well, except a BB gun, which hardly qualifies and also does NOT stop a raccoon.  But that’s another story in itself.  But I did alright with the shooting.  Caleb got out a paper plate and drew a target on it, which I never hit, but I did hit the plate every time…from uhhhh 20 feet away.  At this point I proudly declare that I’m going to try out for “Top Shot ~ Point Blank”.  The point blank edition of this show doesn’t exist yet, but I’m positive I’m a shoe in.  Also, I find out that I love shooting guns and can’t wait to go shoot bigger and better ones!  Guns are awesome and I’ve only tried the little bitch gun!  Can you imagine how much fun I could have with a big boy gun?!?  Somebody mentioned to me that if I shoot the dude he has to be actually INSIDE my house or I could get in trouble.  OHAHAHA!…silly people.  If there is a pervert on my porch or anywhere on my property I will most definitely be shooting him with a quickness.  My dad warned me that if I kill the guy I might have a hard time dealing with the feelings I’d have afterwards.  I disagree, this dude should have already been killed in my opinion.  (I know my dad agrees, he’s just looking out for me) But I didn’t stop with just a gun.  I bought motion detecting flood lights for the outside of the house and of course made sure the house is on lockdown.  I also got these awesome pull string alarms which are kind of like fire crackers that you can tie to windows or doors and they make an 80 decibel popping sound when moved.  I have an air horn and now sleep with my car keys to set off my car alarm if somebody comes in the house.  I have notified neighbors to keep their eyes open and call the po-po if my car alarm goes off.  I also heard that wasp and hornet spray is better than mace and shoots up to 27 feet, best believe I stocked up on that.  I also ordered a stun gun.  This perv has given me a reason to waste money on a stun gun!  I can’t wait to get this in the mail and stun my friends.  I’m a good friend.  On top of all these things I want to reiterate that I am not scared and I am definitely going to put up a crazy type “small girl” fight if anybody tries to roll up on what’s mine.  Let this be a warning.  This has been cutting into my 3-5 hours of sleep a night so that’s a little irritating, but if I have to investigate every little sound and stare at my kids all night to ensure their safety then that’s what I’m going to do!

Ballin' a station wagon...as promised

I should begin this blog with the story about how I acquired the station wagon.  I owned a Honda Passport.  It was mauve which is the worst color on the planet ~the reason I think this is because I used to know this crazy lady who insisted on everything mauve.  She even spray painted the $3 mini blinds hung in her trailer with a rose stencil and mauve paint, it's just weird.  I tried to tell her that her decorative taste was sub-par and geriatric, she didn't budge.  Whatever crazy woman, go get yourself some cats and leave me out of it.
So back to my Passport.  I put around 700 miles a week on that thing between school and work, so I checked my fluids EVERY single weekend.  I was making sure that thing would last til I graduated so I didn't have to buy something else.  It was a pretty good car aside from the gas consumption.  So one day I'm driving home from school, about 25 minutes from home my car starts making a clicking sound.  I'm in the fast lane, doin 85-90 as is customary for me, so I get into the slow lane real quick and my car shuts off so I pull over.  It won't start.  I sit there long enough for the engine to cool so I can check all the fluids and see if I can fix the problem myself before I have to get outside assistance.  Let me interject just to say that if you're a dude and you're reading this and you find this offensive in some way, a girl who checks her own fluids etc., should not make you question your manhood.  Girls are not born with some car/brain retardation.  We are capable.  Think of it this way: if we can master the art of pouring fluids into our car without a funnel then the pancakes you expect us to make you in the morning will be poured with the utmost accuracy, and when we get you a drink after a long days work cause you're too lazy to "fetch" it yourself it will be poured perfectly as well. If you get offended it's probably because you can't check your own fluids and THAT should make you question your manhood. (also: changing a tire, windshield wiper installation, changing your headlights, putting air in your tires, and pumping your own gas...in fact if you can't pump gas I'm not sure how you are serving any purpose on this planet and you should go find a cave in the wilderness and stay there and hope to God that you can muster up the courage to kill your own food so you don't die.)  Back to the story...roadside..I pop my hood and get it open about 6 inches and I already know what happened.  APPARENTLY the last time I checked my fluids I left the oil cap on the battery instead of recapping the oil.  (probably due to the fact that Nate was running around my driveway with a dirty funnel in his mouth, which made me decide that his life may be more important, I'll thank him for creating a diversion later.)  So my motor was locked up, and not being worth the money it would take to fix it, I was going to have to start car shopping.  I called my Dad and as usual he came to the rescue with his trailer to tow my SUV to his house.  (I am not one of those people who runs to Daddy for everything, I handle mine, but if I'm in a bind, and have done everything I could to get myself out of it, I know he's there to help.)  So we drive to his house and since I still have school and work the rest of the week he is going to let me borrow one of his cars.  Most of my first choices are not street legal and only used for drag racing so he offers up his old station wagon.  It's actually a cool car, but a station wagon is not my style.  I smiled at him and he says, "embarrassing?"  I said, "beggars can't be chosers!"  ....So he said I could borrow his truck.  If you know me you know that I am a huge, gigantic, enormous truck HATER.  But it was better than a station wagon so I was happy.  I'm busy with life for the next couple of days and then I get a phone call from my Dad.  He says, "I know your busy so I went ahead and got you a car."  I was ecstatic!  First of all I didn't have a ton of money for a new car and I didn't want a car payment, secondly whatever beater I could afford wouldn't have gotten me far.  He said, "Yeah, it's a Ford Taurus......station wagon."  Crap.  I don't want to seem ungrateful in any way whatsoever, but if I'm going to be honest then I have to admit that I felt a little bit like he should have bought me a cane and a walker to go along with it.  But hey, I'm not one to care too much what people think and a station wagon will hold all 3 of my kids, my work ladder and other work items so it will suit me.  And as far as function goes it has served me well and is probably exactly what I needed.  Top that with the fact that it was free and who am I to complain!  However, for the purposes of this blog I will give you some examples of why I did and still believe station wagons are horrible.
It has crossed my mind that Dad doesn't want any dudes checking me out.  Dad 1 Jess 0.  That surely won't happen.  I have been hit on at red lights more times than I can count.  Not once in a station wagon.  One time there was a car next to me on the interstate for a solid 2 minutes, I was thinking why doesn't this A-hole pass me already, so I look over and this dudes smiling and waving...I was thinking, as I usually do, what does this dude think is gonna happen right now?  We are in seperate cars, doing 70mph with somewhere to be.  Does he think I'm gonna pull over and jump his bones?  What is the point here, he can't even get my number?  So, as is customary for me, I flip him off.  You might say I should be flattered and treat people better.  Uhhh, no.  Clearly this douche is already thinking farther ahead than he should be because he wouldn't waste his time to get my attention unless he thought I might flash him or something.  There's not 1 dude on this planet who will waste his time getting my attention on the highway JUST so I know he thinks I'm pretty.  Not 1.  Therefore, he deserved my middle finger.  Well, that didn't work.  So then I pointed to the CHILD in my back seat.  He shrugged and pointed to the child in his back seat.  At this point I had to laugh, we were friends again and he drove off.  Do you think this will ever happen to me in a station wagon?  The answer is no.  Nobody even looks cause they judge a book by the car it drives and assume I'm an old lady. 
If you drive a wagon, you get no respect.  I still do my usual 85-90 on the interstate and I have people swerve around me and cut me off like I'm in their way or something.  Just riding behind a station wagon annoys people.  I guess nobody thinks it's okay for an old person to be ahead of them, or be driving faster than them.  They get pissed.  Some guy almost cut me off when he went to pull out of a side street I was driving by so I had to slam my brakes. He cussed me out!  He looked all crazy and was bashing his steering wheel and acting like a lunatic.  My kids were like, "Ma!  Did you see that guy?!  He was acting all crazy and it wasn't even your fault!"  Also, my kids are excellent lip readers.  You should only buy a station wagon if you hate respect.    
I have gotten compliments on my new ride, but not from anyone under the age of 60.  For example, I went to a cleaning job that I do once a month.  The man of the house, who is pushing 70, tells me he really likes my new car and grabs the phone and walks away.  This is a good thing because  I sometimes feel like my life is a sitcom and when he said that to me all I wanted to do was laugh.  Of course he would like my car, it's probably the same one that's parked in his garage.   A few minutes later his wife walks in breathing all heavy and tells me she was out for a walk and her husband called her to tell her about my new car so she hurried home to check it out.  Seriously, who does this happen to?!?
This car has posed one last problem for me.  It hates rap music.  I love rap music.  I can't turn the bass up at all or it sounds like butt and even turned up to full volume I can still hear my kids. (the music is supposed to drown the kids out..duh)  To top it all off I feel completely weird listening to Biggie Smalls in this pimp ride of mine so I turn my music down at all red lights and in residential neighborhoods.
There you have it....ballin' a station wagon.  Thanks for reading!

I'm so thirsty today!

Sooo..my first blog in about a year and a half!  I read through my old blogs..and my life has changed a lot since my last blog.  I’ll get a blog going to update you on life as it is now…but while you wait here’s a little bit of my day today…

Before you start reading, you should know that initially this was intended to be an email for McDonalds, then I changed my mind cause when you email them, they only allow 1000 characters and I do what I want.

Visit to McDonalds:  Let me start by telling you about what led to my visit.  I was hungry.  You see I woke up at 5:30am and got myself ready for a long day of work and 3 kids ready for a day at their Aunt's house.  At 7am the kids are dropped off and I'm headed to job #1 at the physical therapy clinic.  I stop at good ole' McDonalds on my way, sit in the drive thru for 10 minutes and the drive thru girl hands me my large sweet tea, no straw.  I wait longer for a straw and my hash brown.  Which is handed to me in a bag, which I assume my straw is in.  I go to pull out.  I have to stop because there is a pedestrian crossing my path.  It’s the guy who ordered ahead of me.  As he passes my car he looks at me and says, “you better check your bag, their forgetful!”  He was clearly pissed.  (I don’t blame him, you go through the drive thru to avoid getting out of your car, duh) I didn’t check, I figure you can’t really screw up a hash brown.  I get on the interstate.  I discover I was wrong about the hash brown and I still had no straw.  The hash brown was burnt and hollow and came with pieces of other hash browns that were burnt as well. You know, kind of like Long John Silvers gives you little crispies, only these crispies I got weren’t going anywhere near my mouth.  So I roll down my window and toss the hash brown.  I do this for one reason only.  I hate birds and was willing to sacrifice my $1.06 to kill one, which in turn makes me feel a little better about the fact that I would be starving until lunch.  So I pick up my strawless tea.  No need to remove the lid because it popped off as soon as I touched it cause that’s what these awesome new lids those cheap donkeys are using do.  I take a drink.  Mmmm extra sugar, yay!  I wanted to drink syrup for breakfast, how did you know?  I thought about tossing that out the window too, but I decided to keep America beautiful and focus on ways to boycott McDonalds.  So as previously mentioned I was hungry and didn’t get a lunch today.  BONUS!! (aside from 3 tic-tacs).  After I leave job #1, it’s off to job #2 ~cleaning someone’s house.  I am the sweatiest chic ever and dehydrated from no drink aside from the swig of sugar that morning.  Off to job #3, still hungry.  I clean house #2.  I’m sweatier than I was, it’s 4pm, still hungry and still thirsty.   Job #4 cleaning windows.  Nothing says “you’re going to die soon” like 90 degree weather and a 24 foot ladder on an empty stomach.  It’s 6pm, still hungry, still thirsty, have to pick up my kids.  On the way I decide to put some chap stick on.  I take the cap off and white fluid flies all over my car.  My chap stick melted in the heat. That’s the second time this month.  I’m home at 7.  I chug nearly a half gallon of water so I might live.  I give my kids edible food because my name is Mom and not McDonalds.  I let them play outside while I unload said ladder and a multitude of other work items I had in my car.  I clean up their mess, start some laundry and realize I’m still hungry.  At this point I’m too tired to think about cooking something so I decide that I should go to the car wash and vacuum my car and go to Wendy’s for my dinner.  I get in the line at Wendy’s, which is wrapped around the place.  I wait.  I pull out, thankfully I still had that option.  Once you get closer you’re trapped by a curb and can’t leave, so I felt lucky that I was smart enough to escape that nightmare.  Subway is next door, I’m totally going there.  I go to pull in when some girl who can’t drive throws it in reverse and nearly takes me out as I start pulling in.  I bob and weave like the expert driver that I am and narrowly escape a car accident which would have undoubtedly led to a fist fight and an arrest. Subway’s out.  Oh boy one option left…McDonalds!  Here we go.  I sit in the drive-thru, which has 2 lanes.  I’m at the speaker, ready to order, but they take 4 cars at the other speaker before I am waited on.  Them- “can I take your order?”  Me- “yes, can I have a #1 with a large sweet tea and a stra~” (interrupted by) Them- “A NUMBER ONE AND WHAT?”  Really? Me- “a large sweet tea and a strawberry banana smoothie”  (interrupted by) Them- “Is that all?”  Me- “uhhh can you change that medium sweet tea to the large one I ordered?” Them- “WHAT?”  Me- “yeah.” I pull around.  Wait like 8-9 minutes.  I pay.  Wait like 5-6 minutes.  I’m at the window.  My bag of food is just sitting there.  I shut my car off, clearly this is going to take a while.  After 4 minutes of letting my food sit there some skank hands me my number 1 and a medium tea.  I ask for large for 2 reasons.  1: I’m super thirsty. 2: It fits in my cars drink holder.  Thank you morons.  Drive-thru skank tells me I am waiting on my smoothie.  Clearly genius.  I see them messing with the machine and I know that’s not good.  They hand it to me, I ball out.  The smoothie is gross looking, like water,  McDonald’s has balls of steel handing me some shit like that.  I’ve been working in 90 degree weather all day, I know I’m out of daiquiri mix at my house, that was the next best thing.  I give it to Dana, that kid will drink anything.  I get home.  I open my big mac.  McDonalds’ balls just got bigger.  There is a straight up finger sized hole through the top bun, the meat is all chopped up like they couldn’t get it off the grill, no onions and the only lettuce was a piece of the hard gross lettuce from the center.  Yum.  I gave it to Dana, that kid will eat anything.  I went to drink my MEDIUM tea.  I took 2 sips, the tea was gone.  It’s just a cup full of ice.  Awesome.  I go to the fridge and chug some more water.  I’m still thirsty and I’m still hungry but I don’t care anymore.  I’ll try eating again tomorrow. 

 Nate is next to me relentlessly asking, “swing me around, swing me around”.  I’m thinking about doing it, but 2 things are stopping me.  A: He’ll keep asking for more. B:  I’ll pass out from malnutrition.  I think it’s bedtime for these kids.

 I just remembered that I left my step ladder and some used up paper towels on the front lawn of cleaning job #2.  That’s professional.    

Going to try to get back to blogging again y’all!  My next one might be titled, “balling a station wagon” ha!

Where's my mute button???

     It's been a while!  Life is just too busy sometimes!  Reminds me of an article going around facebook lately.  A lady wrote to a paper asking a question about how stay at home moms are so busy.  Quite frankly the lady was a condescending wench.  I wish that question came with a name, cause I'd like to meet her in a dark alley one night.  I get so angry when the job I do is regarded as less than any other job because it doesn't come with a paycheck.  I know I am super lucky to be able to stay home with my kids, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to work or that I haven't sacrificed.  What I do is work.  Raising children isn't sitting on a couch watching TV all day.  It's a lot of work, thought, effort, analyzing and patience.  I'm responsible for teaching 3 kids how to be independent and self-sufficient, how to read, write, work hard, be good people, with good morals and values, show them what the important things in life are, how to treat people, not to argue...the list goes on.  It's all day every day.  Some people just consider you lucky and lazy.  I would love to go back to work.  I sacrifice that to stay home with the kids.  My household would benefit from a second income just like anybody else's would.  There are plenty of things I don't have because of that decision.  But you do what you can for your kids.  We have found a way to do it, but it isn't easy.  You have to take the good with the bad.  Everybody in this world has a job to do.  The guy who sits at a desk all day may not always work as hard as a construction worker, but I don't judge him.  It takes all kinds to make the world go round...and no job is more important than another.  The daycare lady could raise my kids and get more credit than me, just because she's paid to do it!  It's the same thing people!  On the same note, I know quite a few working mothers and I see how hard that can be too.  They deserve all the credit in the world.  They have to do most of the same things I do plus another job outside of the house, and they miss their kids too.  And it's just as much of a sacrifice for them because they work for their kids just like I stay home for mine.  Whether they need the second income or they are single moms, they sacrifice being with their kids to provide for them.  At any rate, to each their own and condescending idiots can keep their opinions to themselves!!

    Now that I got that rant out of the way, time for next one!  I have been relentlessly HARASSED about box tops since school started.  Day in and day out my kids are up my butt with "buy more stuff with box tops,  we NEED MORE box tops!"  I have been patient, today was the last straw.  As they were getting ready for school it started again.  ~Mom, we need you to cut these box tops now, did you buy more gogurt yet?  I started yelling.  "That's IT!  If I hear one more word about box tops -EVER, I'll end your life!  You will never SEE another fruit roll up, you'll forget what yogurt tastes like..I won't even take you to the store!"  That shut them up, and then when they came home from school I experienced a short lived moment of joy like no other.  They told me that the school contest for box tops was over now.  I was so happy.  UNTIL I saw the prize Lexi's class won for collecting the most.

I couldn't believe it.  Noisemakers.  Are you kidding me?  I had to hear them whine about collecting these things for 2 month's and this is the thanks I get.  I thought maybe Lexi's teacher had some sort of personal vendetta against me, but she can't hate every parent in the class.  After about 2 hours of hearing this thing non stop I gave Lexi a look from hell.  My plan was to break it after she went to bed, I think she knew, because she hid it.  This may sound like terrible parenting to you.  Go ahead and think that.  Leave me your name, I'll be sure to mail one to your kid when Christmas rolls around.
     I was eavesdropping on Dana singing this evening.    And I quote, " It's not that good of a life, not that good of a life, until you have Burger King for breakfast."  I thought to myself, well isn't that terrific.  If she thinks life's bad now, wait until she has to work at Burger King.
    
     Nate refuses to say Mama, and not because he can't either.  He does it to torture me.  He thinks it's funny.  He will say Dada for hours, here is a short video so you can see for yourself.  Also, you'll want to watch cause he's so stinkin cute!

If his foot looked dirty, it was a shadow.  Trust me, because MY kids are always impeccably clean.  ;)

     It amazes me how easily your kids can make you look like an idiot.  Lexi put Steeler's tattoo's on her face a couple weeks ago, they were on upside down.  It was a Sunday and I wasn't going to make them scrub the crap off of their faces just for school, so they went to school with them on Monday.  Lexi's teacher, who happened to graduate with my husband, asked her why they were upside down.  Lex told her it's because her Dad did it, and he doesn't know what he's doing.  HAHA!  A girlfriend of mine had her son pull his pants down and show a cashier his business when he was about 2.  One day when the girls were little (Lexi 2, Dana 1)  I was babysitting April's son Kaden(also 1).  I spied on them from the hallway as they played on their Little Tykes slide.  They were taking turns and being good.  Lexi was growing impatient because it took the little kids longer to get up the stairs, and I watched in disbelief (followed by tons of laughing) as she said, "Hur-ry up, fuckersssss!"  I laughed in the hall for several minutes before I could go in and punish her with a straight face.  Like the time at Christmas when she was 3.  Her grandma had wrapped up a package of new underwear with this storybook toy.  It was a stuffed bible guy, that looked like he was wearing a backpack(or what looks like a pillow- to a kid), and inside the backpack was a book.  Lexi tears into the package, and very excitedly yells, "I got undies and a man with a pillow!!"  I about spit out my drink!  She's not allowed to get excited about that until her wedding night.  Most people think I am wishful thinking, but I believe in dictatorship type parenting.  My dad had to catch me sneaking out, so I know to bolt my kids windows and screens shut BEFORE they start sneaking out.  I bet I can still buy a chastity belt on Ebay, and GPS tracker ankle bracelets and at home drug testing are good options also.  Am I taking this too far?  I think not!  (wink wink)  Will my kids hate me?  Most definitely.  Does that mean I'm doing my job?  Yes.  I guess none of us wants our kids doing the things we did, and I know the secret.  NEVER trust your kids.  So that is my plan.  Remember chaperoned dates?  Me either.  But my kids will know what they are.  If you ask my girls today when is an appropriate age to date and get married they will tell you, at least 30.  I have been actively convincing them that arranged marriage is where it's at.  (If they fall for this- I already have 2 boys picked out for them...coming straight out of the Farmer household, where they are being raised to be impeccable husbands and fathers.)  Okay, I joke everybody.... kinda.
  
     I've employed a new form of punishment for Lex and Dana, they hate it.  They have to write whatever they do bad, 25 times.  I've found it's a huge time saver for me, now I don't have to stop what I'm doing to beat butts, or remember to watch the clock so a kid can take their nose off the wall.  If you've read the blog about my little brother, Josh...then you understand why I'm so strict with my kids.  In fact the girls think Josh is one of them.  They don't even realize we're the same age.  Kind of like Dad's.  I'm sure some of you have this problem.  "Dad is soooo great.  Oh!  Dad's home!  Let's have a parade and meet him before he even walks in the house to tell him how much we missed him and how fuuuuun he is!  Dad never gets us in trouble, Dad takes us to the park!  Dad said we could have the gum, we asked him cause we knew you'd say no!  Dad picked us up a special new toy on his way home from work!  Dad always gives us quarters for the gumball machine!  Dad is so cool he can light a fart on fire!"  I guess I'll stop there.  Where's my big ups from the little ones?  Dad's are like kids that can drive.  And they don't know how good they have it.  Today at dinner I said having kids has got to be similar to chinese water torture.  They all looked at me as if to say "You've got some balls sayin that to us".  No, if I had balls, I'd be appreciated and get days off.  But seriously, the repetitiveness is absurd.  I was kicked all through dinner.  Lexi asks so many questions that Jimmy calls her google.  Dana keeps leaning back in her chair, Nate's trying to escape his, which he does..every time.  I multitask more during dinner than one person should.  I cooked the food, how bout you let me eat it?!? 

     In other news, my little brother is having a baby (GO READ THE BLOG~ My little brother I call him Vanilla)  Pray for him and the sweet girl that has to raise what will probably be, the craziest child ever born.  I can't wait though.  I'm pretty excited about it!  So congrats to Josh and Nat! 

     That's all folks...for now!