BlogHer@Home
Friday, July 24, 2009
Welcome if you're visiting on the Blog Road Trip at BlogHer@Home! I've already met a bunch of new kick-ass women and men last night at the chat.
I ended up on the Details page and added my linky without reading what it was for. I was rushing and skimming to make sure I was involved in everything. Then I realized it was for the Blog Road Trip. Then I was like shit!
I have serious blog insecurity. I'm just getting starting, trying to be disciplined with writing, I know I need to get over the pink and purple and the whole thing needs a overhaul. Any takers on that task hit me up!
Anyway, it is what it is. I'm learning and growing and I can't wait to check out YOUR blog. Happy reading, I'd love any and all feedback, comments or suggestions.
See ya tonight at the video chat.
I ended up on the Details page and added my linky without reading what it was for. I was rushing and skimming to make sure I was involved in everything. Then I realized it was for the Blog Road Trip. Then I was like shit!
I have serious blog insecurity. I'm just getting starting, trying to be disciplined with writing, I know I need to get over the pink and purple and the whole thing needs a overhaul. Any takers on that task hit me up!
Anyway, it is what it is. I'm learning and growing and I can't wait to check out YOUR blog. Happy reading, I'd love any and all feedback, comments or suggestions.
See ya tonight at the video chat.
Better than You
July has been a tough month for me. Summer camps are so expensive that I debated selling one kid so the other could attend camp but how do you choose?
The Ex-Factor amazed me again and kept the kids with him for two weeks. I didn't like this arrangement but I had no choice. He lives 30 minutes away (I know, it could be worse) and I wouldn't get to see the kids ALL WEEK!
I was a wreck. Every damn day I woke up, went to work, came home, stuffed my face, stared into space, checked email, tweeted and went to bed. I was lost without my kids.
As a single mom you would reckon I would relish the break. I didn't cook, clean or do laundry. Ironically, I missed it. Which made me mad because I'm don't like doing any of that shit. The kids didn't call me. My son didn't text me. When I called them it went straight to voice mail. Was The Ex-Factor brainwashing them against me? All I could do was hunker down until I saw them again, drowning my sorrows in Pinot.
True to my nature, I was distraught for nothing. When The Ex-Factor dropped the kids off, we hugged and kissed and I was beaming! Before their dad drove off, they both starting taking at the same time. They missed me like crazy. They told me all the reasons that being with their mom is better than their dad.
Here's a select few from their list or what I like to call Mom is better than Dad because:
*warning: No editing, this is word for word*
1) Dad doesn't have nail clippers
2) Dad doesn't have tape
3) I can't sleep because Oreo & Kokoa (Chihuahua's) walk all over me
4) Dad only has cereal for breakfast
5) The boys are too loud and I can't sleep (his gf has 3 kids)
It's the small things that make me smile. The next day I made pancakes and eggs for breakfast.
The Ex-Factor amazed me again and kept the kids with him for two weeks. I didn't like this arrangement but I had no choice. He lives 30 minutes away (I know, it could be worse) and I wouldn't get to see the kids ALL WEEK!
I was a wreck. Every damn day I woke up, went to work, came home, stuffed my face, stared into space, checked email, tweeted and went to bed. I was lost without my kids.
As a single mom you would reckon I would relish the break. I didn't cook, clean or do laundry. Ironically, I missed it. Which made me mad because I'm don't like doing any of that shit. The kids didn't call me. My son didn't text me. When I called them it went straight to voice mail. Was The Ex-Factor brainwashing them against me? All I could do was hunker down until I saw them again, drowning my sorrows in Pinot.
True to my nature, I was distraught for nothing. When The Ex-Factor dropped the kids off, we hugged and kissed and I was beaming! Before their dad drove off, they both starting taking at the same time. They missed me like crazy. They told me all the reasons that being with their mom is better than their dad.
Here's a select few from their list or what I like to call Mom is better than Dad because:
*warning: No editing, this is word for word*
1) Dad doesn't have nail clippers
2) Dad doesn't have tape
3) I can't sleep because Oreo & Kokoa (Chihuahua's) walk all over me
4) Dad only has cereal for breakfast
5) The boys are too loud and I can't sleep (his gf has 3 kids)
It's the small things that make me smile. The next day I made pancakes and eggs for breakfast.
Middle School Orientation
Friday, July 17, 2009
Today was the student/parent 6th grade Orientation. My kids have been with The Ex-Factor all week and met me at the school. I was proud of my always running late ass and I arrived 5 minutes early. Turns out it didn't really matter. The Prince, the Princess and The Ex-Factor were already there. Damn!
We met the Guidance Counselor who will be with our children all three years of Middle school. I love that! We also met the P.E Teacher, the 6th grade Team Leader and the Asst. Principal (who I know from my former church, before the great "coming out.") I'm thankful she will there to watch over the Prince.
We went over the crazy schedule this school has. When I was in 6th grade we had a homeroom teacher, I think 7 classes including gym and two electives. The same schedule day in and day out. Well, parents, things have changed. This school is on a rotating schedule. I don't quite understand how it works. I'm hoping The Prince who is a much smarter than his momma was listening, paying attention and will know the deal. It works something like the class blocks are 90 minutes so you have 5 out of 7 classes a day.
The next day you start with period/class 6. According to the Asst. Principal this schedule works great for this school and has for years. I believe them...for now because I really don't have a choice. It is what it is. I'm sure it will be fine.
We went over the P.E. uniform. Gray and dark blue. I was ecstatic because those are GEORGETOWN colors. The school sells the set for $25. WTF? I asked the Prince after and he didn't really care if he had "the set" or just dark blue mesh shorts and a gray shirt. That's my boy! The kids also had a chance to practice opening a combination lock. The Prince, like I said is smart as hell! He opened his lock on the first try and spent the rest of the time helping his friends figure it out.
Then we went on a tour on the school. There's a big difference coming from a Elementary School to Middle School. Did you know they have WINGS in MS? Wings?! I thought those were only for airplanes? We toured the whole school. It's now been 10 hours and I don't remember a damn thing except the tour of the locker rooms. We toured the boys and girl's locker rooms and the smell brought back awful memories.
5 Random Middle School Memories: (in no particular order)
1) Aunt Flo started & I swear I was the only one. It was a nightmare.
2) Changing in the Locker Room before and after P.E. and when Aunt Flo was visiting it was ever more mortifying.
3) Being teased because of my hair and clothes.
4) Wearing Blue Eye Shadow because everyone was doing it.
5) Not being able to open my locker and too embarrassed to ask for help.
Now that I think about it, there's so much more. I was a bad girl and was suspended a few times. Long story.
I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure my son has a great 6th grade year. I've already bought him a combination lock to practice on. I'm trying to down play my nervousness so he remains calm. I'm already involved with the PTSA so I'll be there. Maybe it's different for boys? We'll see...
I'm scared to death and nervous for him. So far, I've raised him to be a leader, he's smart, funny, and athletic. All around great kid! I think I'm the one who will have a hard time.
We met the Guidance Counselor who will be with our children all three years of Middle school. I love that! We also met the P.E Teacher, the 6th grade Team Leader and the Asst. Principal (who I know from my former church, before the great "coming out.") I'm thankful she will there to watch over the Prince.
We went over the crazy schedule this school has. When I was in 6th grade we had a homeroom teacher, I think 7 classes including gym and two electives. The same schedule day in and day out. Well, parents, things have changed. This school is on a rotating schedule. I don't quite understand how it works. I'm hoping The Prince who is a much smarter than his momma was listening, paying attention and will know the deal. It works something like the class blocks are 90 minutes so you have 5 out of 7 classes a day.
The next day you start with period/class 6. According to the Asst. Principal this schedule works great for this school and has for years. I believe them...for now because I really don't have a choice. It is what it is. I'm sure it will be fine.
We went over the P.E. uniform. Gray and dark blue. I was ecstatic because those are GEORGETOWN colors. The school sells the set for $25. WTF? I asked the Prince after and he didn't really care if he had "the set" or just dark blue mesh shorts and a gray shirt. That's my boy! The kids also had a chance to practice opening a combination lock. The Prince, like I said is smart as hell! He opened his lock on the first try and spent the rest of the time helping his friends figure it out.
Then we went on a tour on the school. There's a big difference coming from a Elementary School to Middle School. Did you know they have WINGS in MS? Wings?! I thought those were only for airplanes? We toured the whole school. It's now been 10 hours and I don't remember a damn thing except the tour of the locker rooms. We toured the boys and girl's locker rooms and the smell brought back awful memories.
5 Random Middle School Memories: (in no particular order)
1) Aunt Flo started & I swear I was the only one. It was a nightmare.
2) Changing in the Locker Room before and after P.E. and when Aunt Flo was visiting it was ever more mortifying.
3) Being teased because of my hair and clothes.
4) Wearing Blue Eye Shadow because everyone was doing it.
5) Not being able to open my locker and too embarrassed to ask for help.
Now that I think about it, there's so much more. I was a bad girl and was suspended a few times. Long story.
I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure my son has a great 6th grade year. I've already bought him a combination lock to practice on. I'm trying to down play my nervousness so he remains calm. I'm already involved with the PTSA so I'll be there. Maybe it's different for boys? We'll see...
I'm scared to death and nervous for him. So far, I've raised him to be a leader, he's smart, funny, and athletic. All around great kid! I think I'm the one who will have a hard time.
Longing
Thursday, July 16, 2009
I miss my house.
I don't miss the lie that I lived for 4 years. I have to let it go. It's gone. I can't get it back yet, I still miss it. Is there a time limit on grief over a lost home? Should I even grieve over the loss of 4 walls in which I was rarely happy? I can't answer that question, I just know how I feel.
When I got married, we lived in an apartment for a few years. Then, my daughter was born and eventually we needed more space. I applied for a loan, searched for a house and found "it," our first home. We knew the previous owner from church. She was an AKA sorority sister. I was certain of this because the house had grass green carpet and everything else was pink. Pepto Bismol Pink. The fact that I could see past this nauseating decor, I knew this was the house for our family.
I was happy at times in our apartment. I lived for my son, then for my daughter. Before long, I was unhappy again. A new house, a home for our family. I thought this will make me happy and bury the feelings of unrest.
Our contract was accepted and we moved in after school started in 2004. Before I could step foot in that place we had the carpets replaced and The Ex-Factor laid down blond Pergo flooring. I painted my son's room ocean blue and my daughter's room the most gorgeous shade of lilac. Finally we moved in! The house was empty for awhile after leaving a 1,000 square foot apartment but the new 1,628 square foot home gave us plenty of room.
I did my thing as a stay at home mom. I made friends, the kids had play dates, I organized the cook-outs and birthday parties. It felt good and I was happy, or, at least I thought I was. It kept me occupied and those feelings of unrest set aside.
Numerous refi's organized by the The Ex-Factor had us struggling a few years later. In 2006 I began the process of the great "coming out." I had lived a lie all these years pretending to be a happy hetero and this was my chance. I was going to have it ALL: the home, the kids, the lover and this time it would be true, my truth. It would feel right. It would be perfect because I had done the one thing I was terrified of. I came out and admitted my sexuality. I was set free.
The Ex-Factor and I had discussions of one of us moving out and the other staying in the home for the children. I wanted it to be me, but it wasn't meant to be. I crunched all the numbers and there was no way I could afford the mortgage, the utilities, the HOA fee and the unexpected problems that come with home ownership.
I left and it sucked and I cried and the kids cried. But the house, it would still be there. Everything I had done to make the house feel like a home for my kids would still be there. Did I mention I remodeled the kitchen with granite counter tops and maple cabinets? The stability I created for the kids, their friends, our neighbors, the community. I was leaving but it would still be there...for my kids.
Fast forward to The Ex-Factor never paying a bill once I moved out, losing his job, the house going into foreclosure and then it's just gone. The day after Christmas, a little over a year after I moved out, the house sold on the Court House steps back to the bank. The bastards! It stayed empty for a long time but then on New Years Eve the next year a family moved in. I was in the neighborhood at a friend's party. I watched them unload their U-Haul. I wept part Vodka, part wine and part sadness. I immediately hated these people and made all my old neighbor's promise to hate them too.
Sometimes I live in a fantasy world and I dream of hitting the Lottery. I would buy my house back from the bank. Never mind building a new house. I want my house.
I don't know why I can't let go. I don't know why I look at pictures of my old house and relive the stress of remodeling that kitchen. I don't know what it is about this house that has a hold on me. Was it because it was my first? Looking back on my former life, I would be happy for months at a time, then deeply depressed, unable to get out of the bed. I was miserable. I had someone inside of me trying to get out. That house did absolutely nothing to change that.
Why do I crave something...someplace where I was pretending to be someone I'm not? I don't know if I'll ever understand. I just know that I miss my house.
I don't miss the lie that I lived for 4 years. I have to let it go. It's gone. I can't get it back yet, I still miss it. Is there a time limit on grief over a lost home? Should I even grieve over the loss of 4 walls in which I was rarely happy? I can't answer that question, I just know how I feel.
When I got married, we lived in an apartment for a few years. Then, my daughter was born and eventually we needed more space. I applied for a loan, searched for a house and found "it," our first home. We knew the previous owner from church. She was an AKA sorority sister. I was certain of this because the house had grass green carpet and everything else was pink. Pepto Bismol Pink. The fact that I could see past this nauseating decor, I knew this was the house for our family.
I was happy at times in our apartment. I lived for my son, then for my daughter. Before long, I was unhappy again. A new house, a home for our family. I thought this will make me happy and bury the feelings of unrest.
Our contract was accepted and we moved in after school started in 2004. Before I could step foot in that place we had the carpets replaced and The Ex-Factor laid down blond Pergo flooring. I painted my son's room ocean blue and my daughter's room the most gorgeous shade of lilac. Finally we moved in! The house was empty for awhile after leaving a 1,000 square foot apartment but the new 1,628 square foot home gave us plenty of room.
I did my thing as a stay at home mom. I made friends, the kids had play dates, I organized the cook-outs and birthday parties. It felt good and I was happy, or, at least I thought I was. It kept me occupied and those feelings of unrest set aside.
Numerous refi's organized by the The Ex-Factor had us struggling a few years later. In 2006 I began the process of the great "coming out." I had lived a lie all these years pretending to be a happy hetero and this was my chance. I was going to have it ALL: the home, the kids, the lover and this time it would be true, my truth. It would feel right. It would be perfect because I had done the one thing I was terrified of. I came out and admitted my sexuality. I was set free.
The Ex-Factor and I had discussions of one of us moving out and the other staying in the home for the children. I wanted it to be me, but it wasn't meant to be. I crunched all the numbers and there was no way I could afford the mortgage, the utilities, the HOA fee and the unexpected problems that come with home ownership.
I left and it sucked and I cried and the kids cried. But the house, it would still be there. Everything I had done to make the house feel like a home for my kids would still be there. Did I mention I remodeled the kitchen with granite counter tops and maple cabinets? The stability I created for the kids, their friends, our neighbors, the community. I was leaving but it would still be there...for my kids.
Fast forward to The Ex-Factor never paying a bill once I moved out, losing his job, the house going into foreclosure and then it's just gone. The day after Christmas, a little over a year after I moved out, the house sold on the Court House steps back to the bank. The bastards! It stayed empty for a long time but then on New Years Eve the next year a family moved in. I was in the neighborhood at a friend's party. I watched them unload their U-Haul. I wept part Vodka, part wine and part sadness. I immediately hated these people and made all my old neighbor's promise to hate them too.
Sometimes I live in a fantasy world and I dream of hitting the Lottery. I would buy my house back from the bank. Never mind building a new house. I want my house.
I don't know why I can't let go. I don't know why I look at pictures of my old house and relive the stress of remodeling that kitchen. I don't know what it is about this house that has a hold on me. Was it because it was my first? Looking back on my former life, I would be happy for months at a time, then deeply depressed, unable to get out of the bed. I was miserable. I had someone inside of me trying to get out. That house did absolutely nothing to change that.
Why do I crave something...someplace where I was pretending to be someone I'm not? I don't know if I'll ever understand. I just know that I miss my house.
Crazy on my mind
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
I have a million things on my mind. I need to get them out so here goes nothing:
1) Michael Jackson: When the news started circulating about his Cardiac Arrest and possible death I remember seeing a tweet from someone in another country. They said if its true, if he is gone, it will be akin to the passing of Princess Diana for the United States. I read this tweet and thought no, that would be crazy. Lo and behold, I give you crazy!
I think Michael would be extremely embarrassed by the show that is taking place right now at The Staples Center. In my opinion, he was an abused, shy, confused and emotionally debilitated man. Yes, he was the ish back in the day. When I was t-e-n. In these last few years, he has been recluse and quiet save for the usual celebrity court battles. He has always been humble. If he's watching this Memorial Service from up above, I can picture him in a corner, with that scared smile on his face, awkward and unsure. It's sad that he's gone. I can only hope he's more at peace in the afterlife than he was here on Earth.
Now let's talk about those children of his. I don't know even the names but some articles I have read referenced one of them as "Blanket." Really? Who the hell names their child Blanket? I don't get it. But I digress on the name issue and bring up guardianship of the children. I think it's crazy his mother who is 79 freaking years old is the current guardian of his three children. I barely have enough energy to handle my two kids. How is she going to do this? Perhaps she was the only one in the family who wanted them?
On another note as pictures of the kids have popped up more frequently since his passing, my uncle is adamant that these children are not Michael's. My uncle questions why the children look white? Bleaching of the skin does not beget white offspring. You can't bleach out the black honey. As a mama, I do feel awful for the kids as they have lost their father. I hope his will (why the hell hasn't it been updated in 7 years?) provides for the kids and pays off that debt. Biological father or not, he loved and raised them and that's all that really matters.
P.S. My dad was born and raised in Gary, Indiana aka Birthplace of Michael. When I was a kid, I used to ask my dad if they were friends or played together. He just laughed at me...
That was only #1. Sheesh. Ok, check back in later for my thoughts on The Real World DC.
1) Michael Jackson: When the news started circulating about his Cardiac Arrest and possible death I remember seeing a tweet from someone in another country. They said if its true, if he is gone, it will be akin to the passing of Princess Diana for the United States. I read this tweet and thought no, that would be crazy. Lo and behold, I give you crazy!
I think Michael would be extremely embarrassed by the show that is taking place right now at The Staples Center. In my opinion, he was an abused, shy, confused and emotionally debilitated man. Yes, he was the ish back in the day. When I was t-e-n. In these last few years, he has been recluse and quiet save for the usual celebrity court battles. He has always been humble. If he's watching this Memorial Service from up above, I can picture him in a corner, with that scared smile on his face, awkward and unsure. It's sad that he's gone. I can only hope he's more at peace in the afterlife than he was here on Earth.
Now let's talk about those children of his. I don't know even the names but some articles I have read referenced one of them as "Blanket." Really? Who the hell names their child Blanket? I don't get it. But I digress on the name issue and bring up guardianship of the children. I think it's crazy his mother who is 79 freaking years old is the current guardian of his three children. I barely have enough energy to handle my two kids. How is she going to do this? Perhaps she was the only one in the family who wanted them?
On another note as pictures of the kids have popped up more frequently since his passing, my uncle is adamant that these children are not Michael's. My uncle questions why the children look white? Bleaching of the skin does not beget white offspring. You can't bleach out the black honey. As a mama, I do feel awful for the kids as they have lost their father. I hope his will (why the hell hasn't it been updated in 7 years?) provides for the kids and pays off that debt. Biological father or not, he loved and raised them and that's all that really matters.
P.S. My dad was born and raised in Gary, Indiana aka Birthplace of Michael. When I was a kid, I used to ask my dad if they were friends or played together. He just laughed at me...
That was only #1. Sheesh. Ok, check back in later for my thoughts on The Real World DC.
The First Fourth
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Back in September of 2007 when my ex-husband and I separated I made sure that EVERY holiday, I had the kids. I was the one who was technically leaving because I moved out of the family home. Without any hesitation, if he asked what the plans were, I said I wanted them.
Throughout the 7 yearmarriage façade I was living in, I loved the holidays. Every single stinking one because it gave me a chance to relive the traditions I grew up with and pass them on to my babies. 4th of July is one of my favorites. It kicked off summer long BBQ's at our house. We invited neighbors, family, friends. Our house was packed, the smell of the grill wafting down the court, beer going into the cooler and my daughter helping shuck corn. That sounds funny but she loves to help and it's less I have to do.
I loved being around all my friends and family. The kids running around with their friends. The food, lots and lots of food. I love food. Then around 6:30 or so we would pack up coolers and head to "the spot" to impatiently wait for the Fireworks. In my County we have the Fireworks display on the County Fairgrounds. It's crowded and congested so instead of parking there, we have "the spot." It's a commuter lot, that sits at the perfect angle to see the Fireworks up above. Families congregate with chairs, coolers, bubbles and sidewalk chalk for the kids, leftover food (damn Fireworks don't start until close to 9:30) and it's just chill. It's a perfect end to a perfect day.
Last year was different, since the ex lost the house there was no BBQ planned by yours truly. I had the kids with me and it rained off and on all day. My old neighbors met up at another spot and squeezed themselves under a tent. We debated whether or not to join them. The vibe was just different. The kids were content playing in their room. The rain bummed me out. I wanted what I had before even though I was living a lie. How crazy is that? In the end we made our way to the "new spot" and crammed into the tent. The Fireworks display was cool. I love me some damn Fireworks. I know it's the same thing year in and year out but I look forward to it.
Moving along to this year. I spoke with the ex. He asked if I had plans for the 4th. Me: Nope, not a one. He asked if he could take the kids to NJ with him. Me: HELL TO THE NO! But then I calmed down and realized the reality of my new life. The ex and I will soon be divorced. There will be custody arrangements and we'll have to pick and choose the holiday's and it all sucks ass because I don't want to share them! I thought about it some more and decided that's it cool. I have to let go at some point. It's going to require small baby steps on my part but I'm willing to give it a try.
All of that rambling to say, this 4th of July weekend will be the first one I'm not with my kids. They drive me insane during the week but once they are gone I'm missing a part of myself. I know they will have a great time in NJ. I've heard plans of fishing, major pool time and shopping. The kids are set to have a good time, now what the hell am I gonna do?
Throughout the 7 year
I loved being around all my friends and family. The kids running around with their friends. The food, lots and lots of food. I love food. Then around 6:30 or so we would pack up coolers and head to "the spot" to impatiently wait for the Fireworks. In my County we have the Fireworks display on the County Fairgrounds. It's crowded and congested so instead of parking there, we have "the spot." It's a commuter lot, that sits at the perfect angle to see the Fireworks up above. Families congregate with chairs, coolers, bubbles and sidewalk chalk for the kids, leftover food (damn Fireworks don't start until close to 9:30) and it's just chill. It's a perfect end to a perfect day.
Last year was different, since the ex lost the house there was no BBQ planned by yours truly. I had the kids with me and it rained off and on all day. My old neighbors met up at another spot and squeezed themselves under a tent. We debated whether or not to join them. The vibe was just different. The kids were content playing in their room. The rain bummed me out. I wanted what I had before even though I was living a lie. How crazy is that? In the end we made our way to the "new spot" and crammed into the tent. The Fireworks display was cool. I love me some damn Fireworks. I know it's the same thing year in and year out but I look forward to it.
Moving along to this year. I spoke with the ex. He asked if I had plans for the 4th. Me: Nope, not a one. He asked if he could take the kids to NJ with him. Me: HELL TO THE NO! But then I calmed down and realized the reality of my new life. The ex and I will soon be divorced. There will be custody arrangements and we'll have to pick and choose the holiday's and it all sucks ass because I don't want to share them! I thought about it some more and decided that's it cool. I have to let go at some point. It's going to require small baby steps on my part but I'm willing to give it a try.
All of that rambling to say, this 4th of July weekend will be the first one I'm not with my kids. They drive me insane during the week but once they are gone I'm missing a part of myself. I know they will have a great time in NJ. I've heard plans of fishing, major pool time and shopping. The kids are set to have a good time, now what the hell am I gonna do?
Consistency...or the lack thereof
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
i have none! In anything that I do. Exercising, weight loss, checking voice mails, returning phone calls, replying to emails, cleaning, quitting smoking, remembering to do shit. I'm so spacey and inconsistent, it's rather remarkable that I actually make it through each day. Scratch that, I barely make it without a glass of wine at night to chill me out.
I've been wanting to blog about so much stuff that has happened. I'm just not consistent With logging into my blog, writing, getting pics together. I suck at this. I don't want to suck. I was really on a roll last month. I log in here and can't believe that my last post was on June 9th. Yea ummm, I suck at this.
I spend a lot of time on Twitter, reading more than interacting lately, and reading various Mommy blogs that make me laugh. Then I think, how in the hell do these women have time to write? So much. Every day. I don't know who works and who doesn't. Can I blame the fact that I work on my blog writing/posting failure? I don't know but I'm gonna run with it. Work, plus single parenting two children, throw in trying to have a life, my love affair with sleeping and you have what is so far Chantelligence. :(
I told many people about my blog, very early on and honestly, I now regret it. These are some of the people in my life who caution me about what I write and cursing and who may see it blah blah blah. I think that has held me back a lot. I want to say something but then I stop because what if so and so thinks this about me. Whatever. I know I'm not the only blogger out there with that problem. Unlike me, they charge full steam ahead and said F* it. I'm going to take a page out of their book and say F* it.
I started this damn thing to have a place where I could write and speak freely. Instead it's hanging me up. I need a place where I can vent and say how I really feel. If I keep all this shit inside me; well, visiting hours end at 7pm at the Loony Bin.
I've been wanting to blog about so much stuff that has happened. I'm just not consistent With logging into my blog, writing, getting pics together. I suck at this. I don't want to suck. I was really on a roll last month. I log in here and can't believe that my last post was on June 9th. Yea ummm, I suck at this.
I spend a lot of time on Twitter, reading more than interacting lately, and reading various Mommy blogs that make me laugh. Then I think, how in the hell do these women have time to write? So much. Every day. I don't know who works and who doesn't. Can I blame the fact that I work on my blog writing/posting failure? I don't know but I'm gonna run with it. Work, plus single parenting two children, throw in trying to have a life, my love affair with sleeping and you have what is so far Chantelligence. :(
I told many people about my blog, very early on and honestly, I now regret it. These are some of the people in my life who caution me about what I write and cursing and who may see it blah blah blah. I think that has held me back a lot. I want to say something but then I stop because what if so and so thinks this about me. Whatever. I know I'm not the only blogger out there with that problem. Unlike me, they charge full steam ahead and said F* it. I'm going to take a page out of their book and say F* it.
I started this damn thing to have a place where I could write and speak freely. Instead it's hanging me up. I need a place where I can vent and say how I really feel. If I keep all this shit inside me; well, visiting hours end at 7pm at the Loony Bin.
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