Annoying Interruptions

Princess Patalie: Mom, guess what? Today at school.....

Me: Oh my gosh, guess what happened today at work. I was walking...

PP: MOM! Stop it. Ok, so guess what? Today at school, in Art class....

Me: Art. I was never good at art unless I could trace a picture....

PP: Mommy, come on I'm trying to tell you something.

Me: Ok baby girl go ahead.

PP: Today at school, in art....

Me: Ugh work today was awful

PP: MOOOOOOOOOM!

Me: What am I doing PP? What is the word for it?

PP: Annoying

Me: True, but what else?

PP: Butting

Me: Butting in yes but there's another word. It starts with an "I"

PP: Interrupting!

Me: That's right baby girl. Wasn't that annoying?

PP: Yes and it was rude.

Me: Now you know how I feel when I'm trying to talk and you interrupt me. I don't like it.

PP: Sorry mom.

20 minutes later.....

PP: Mom, I'm going to say something and you be annoying and interrupt me. That was fun! Let's play again.

Disclaimer: this is my first time mobile blogging. Please ignore spelling and grammatical errors. I'm typing fast as it happens on my Blackberry after 2 glasses of wine. This is my life.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

RTT: Because it's Tuesday...duh

1) When I went to Vegas back in May I bought back some souvenirs junk for my kids. My son constantly asks to borrow my nail clippers because he constantly has hang nail issues. Don't ask. So when I saw a pair with the Las Vegas sign on it, I bought them. Fast forward to a few days ago and I'm driving him to school. I see something shiny and familiar in the street. I peer closer and its the damn clippers! It has been raining so they were rusted and ruined. I can't remember exactly what I said to said to him. It probably went something like &*#$%^! I threw them in the trash. I won't let him borrow mine. He'll have to chew his hang nails off like the rest of the kids.

2) Rain rain go away. No really! Please leave. I don't want to hear about how we need the rain blah blah blah. I'm a girl with a Vitamin D deficiency. How in the hell am I supposed to get my daily dose of Vitamin D from the sun if its raining or cloudy every.single.day. Don't even get me started on my Seasonal Affective Disorder. If anyone wants to send me one of those light lamps, my mental health would be very thankful.

3) I had grand plans to walk on the treadmill for 30 minutes last night. It was going to feel great. I was proud of myself for making the decision (in my head) to exercise. Instead I drank 3 beers and made chocolate fudge brownies. I somehow made a wrong turn on the road to fitness. I want to be angry at myself. Beat myself up. Instead I'm starting over today. New day and another chance to make the right decisions. That my friends is progress.

Visit Keely the Master of Random and see what's on her mind.

Time Out

I'm sitting at Barnes & Noble. I've secured a small table next to an outlet to plug in my laptop. I haven't had internet access at home for a week. The first thing I wanted to do was play Farmville and Cafe World on Facebook. I logged in and the thought occured to me that I really didn't want to do this. The games are fun but they also drain my time. Time is something we can't get back once its gone.

I've decided that I'm putting myself in time out. I need a break. A break from Twitter, Facebook and the Interwebs. Not too say that I won't update my status from my Blackberry. I do realize I have an addiction to Social Media. I can't just go all cold turkey. I love my friends that live in my computer.

This past week has been rough me. I've found that I am spending entirely too much time involved in everyone's else life and not focusing my time and energy on MY family. I've felt defeated by the circumstances in my life right now. I'm a master in the art of avoidance. In avoiding all the negative stuff and turning my attention towards my online life...I'm missing an opportunity to make changes. There aren't enough fingers on my hands to count the number of positive changes I can make.

So I'm in time out. I'm going to do my best to stay away. To refocus my energy into things that are tangible. Instead of playing Farmville, I can play Uno with my kids. We can read books and do Mad Libs. In my avoidance of all the bullshit I've been avoiding my children. And that makes me unbelievably sad. I'm going to get my fat ass off the sofa and interact. In real life.

For Anissa

I haven't had the honor to meet Anissa Mayhew. I wish I had. When I think of Anissa I think of the most popular girl in school. She's smart, funny, pretty and everyone wants to be her friend. She's seems unreachable. Waaaay out of your league. That is until you run into her, she gives you a big hug and then grabs your boobs! That's my kinda girl and from all the stories I've read today it's right on!

Anissa suffered a stroke yesterday afternoon. She's a wife, momma to three beautiful children, friend, daughter, blogger. She's also a fighter. All of her friends online are fighting right beside her. We are uniting in prayer, positive thoughts and sending her all our love. We need you to get well Anissa and soon!

It's 8 days until Thanksgiving. In the spirit of the season, the season of giving, please consider making a donation to support the Mayhew family.




Cards & packages can be sent to:
The Mayhew Family
860 Johnson Ferry Road 140-184
Atlanta, GA 30342

RTT: Huh?

That is what I feel like. Huh? What? This ride is spinning too fast and I want to get off. I can't seem to gather my thoughts and make sense of anything. This is why I love Keely and



Let's get started:

>The Z-Man made the Honor Roll. All A's and 1 B. So proud of him. Ceremony is this Friday at 2pm. Please don't let me forget. He's also one of the Stars of the Month. I missed the celebration last Friday at 2pm because I suck. And the Fall Choral and Band concert is this Thursday night. The Z-Man is busy for an 11 year old.

>The Princess did very well on her report card. There is a new grading and reporting system which I don't understand AT ALL. Our school is involved in various Pilot Programs which means we (the parents) are Guinea Pigs. It's not all bad. I know from her data notebook that she is almost reading on a 2nd grade level, in the first grade. She also kicks butt and takes names in Math. I will be pushing for her to move up to the advanced class.

>I'm still feeling a bit blah from last week. My womanly errr...functions are a bitch. I am unable to take the Pill or anything with Estrogen. I was hospitalized with Pulmonary Embolism in 2005. Or was it 2004? I try not to remember the exact date that the doctors told me I almost died. After millions of tests it was determined the cause was THE PILL. I don't really need to be on birth control seeing how I am lesbian and all. But seriously, this past year if feels like I only have one week out of the month where I feel normal. And it's getting worse and worse. Ask my family, they'll tell you. I can deal with the physical symptoms. It's the raging lunatic inside me that needs help. If you know of any homeopathic remedies please let me know.

>I'm so ready for Thanksgiving. My kids will be their dad. I'm still going to cook and hopefully my family (yes mom, I'm talking to YOU) will trek the 45 minutes north for dinner. My menu so far consists of Turkey (going to use a Rosemary & Garlic rub), macaroni and cheese (homemade), deviled eggs (my speciality), mashed potatoes, rolls and some special surprises for dessert. Oh lawd, I'm hungry just thinking about it. What are your plans for Turkey Day?

>Speaking of turkey's I was reading The Pioneer Woman's receipes and she brines her turkey. I've heard of this before and then I googled it and so many people do this. I never have. I don't think my parents ever did either. I'm starting to think black people don't brine turkeys. And you know what, it's okay. As long as you don't overcook the bird. There is nothing worse than shriveled up dry meat!

Now head on over to Keely's blog to see what the Queen of Random has going on today. Do you Random?

Happy Birthday Maddie

Dear Maddie,

Happy Birthday Madeline. We all wish you were here to celebrate your 2nd birthday. Eagerly awaiting pictures of your face with cake strewn all over. Searching another photo trying to find you amidst tons of presents.

Your spirit lives on with your Mommy and Daddy. Continue to watch over them and your little sister Baby Binky. They miss you so very much.

Without knowing it, you have touched the world. With your smile, your curly blond hair and big blue eyes. The Famous Madeline! I only wish I had a chance to meet you.

Happy 2nd Birthday Maddie Moo!

Blah

I'm feeling pretty blah today. Normally this feeling would make me stay away from my Blog. Instead I'm going to write it out and hope something makes sense at the end.

I'm not an optimist. In the same respect that I was born gay, I was not born a happy upbeat positive make lemons out of lemonade kinda gal. I'm thankful my mom talked my dad out of naming me Sunshine. Imagine having to live up that pressure! I try to stay upbeat, keep a smile on my face and conquer the obstacles in life. Time and time again I run out of steam and I feel blah. I feel defeated.

When I feel like this, everything is a MOUNTAIN that I can't seem to climb. I slip and fall on my fear. The peak mocks me as I try, try, try again. I can only take it so many times before I give up. My attempts half hearted, my mind semi-focused. My head telling me that everything will work out if I just ignore it. Ignore it and it will go away. Rationally, I know that's idiotic. How can I try just a little bit and expect things to work out?

When you feel as though you've given all you've got, ignoring the mess is easier until it all falls apart. You never really saw your paycheck from Friday. The $160 remaining has to last until the next pay day. Groceries need to be purchased, the car will need gas. The 11 year old son might outgrow his clothes again. Yes, the pants that were purchased over the weekend.

I'm overwhelmed and deep down in my heart I know I'm not doing my best. Not all the time. Not in every area. Getting by has become the focus. Worrying and stressing about money, my weight and how the hell will I get everything done is my obession. In fact, I'm a perfect worrier.

Its a struggle to enjoy life, my children and my friends when deep down inside I just feel blah. In all honestly, I have no one to blame but myself.

Rat-A-Tat-Tat

Today my friend KnoxvillePixie is guest posting for me. This is my first ever guest post. How exciting! We tossed around a few ideas for the subject. I was game for whatever she wanted to write about. What she came up with really hit home for me. I've been there and come out the other side. We are both survivors! I'm proud of you KP. Let's get tat's together next time you're in town.

Rat-A-Tat-Tat

I got my first tattoo at age 16. Let me rephrase, I gave myself my first tattoo at age 16. Using a needle, some thread, and some Indian ink, I indelibly marked my hand with the heart I would stare at and like, and sometimes dislike for the rest of my life. It’s not perfect; there are little dots that run outside the lines. But it’s mine. It’s something I frequently get asked about and every time I do I’m brought back to that place in time. A time in my life when things were very different than they are today; a time when I said “yes” even when I meant “NO”; a time when I was starved for the affections and companionship of a man, and in doing so, made some very poor choices as to who I allowed that to be.

I got my next tattoo at age 18. I had made plans with my then-boyfriend to go and get them together. We had been together for two years. Two tumultuous years in which he mentally, emotionally, and physically abused me, humiliated me, and genuinely made me hate myself for over 700 days. The night before our appointments with the tattoo artist, I broke it off with him. I found the last iota of strength inside of me to finally decide that enough was enough and I couldn’t live that way anymore. I told him I’d still go with him to the appointment (I really fucking wanted to get that tattoo) and after that I would no longer see him again. We drove in silence to the parlor 30 minutes away from my college campus into a seedy little town. When we entered the parlor, we met our artist. He was an adorable, charming, smiley little soul who instantly put me at ease. I selected my tat with him (yes, from the wall, but come on I was 18!) and we got down to work. When the ex stepped outside to smoke a cigarette, the artist stopped working on my back. He turned to me, looked me in the eye, and asked me, “What the hell are YOU doing with THAT guy?” It was the question many people had asked me over the last two years, but this time, I smiled, knowing that this was the last time I’d ever be asked that question. All the sleepless nights, all the accusations, all the “where have you been’s” and “who have you been with’s “, the knock-down-drag-out fights, the excuses, the lying to myself and others about our relationship was finally over. I took a deep breath and let the artist continue my piece until he was finished. I stood up, blood rushing to my head, as he handed me a mirror, and showed me the work of art he had created: a butterfly.

I got my next tattoo at age 29. It was just over a year after my oldest daughter was born; A year full of the highest highs and lowest lows; A year in which I fell so in love with that little girl it physically hurt to be away from her; A year in which we moved into the home of our dreams; A year in which I suffered the most debilitating depression and began taking anti-depressant medication for the first time in my life just so I could get out of bed and not spend the day sobbing uncontrollably; A year in which I came home from work one night to find my husband in bed, unable to speak properly. In his attempts to communicate with me, the words just came out jumbled, garbled, as the Doctor would later describe it as “word salad”. That night, with my then 6-month-old daughter sleeping soundly in my crib, I honestly thought I was going to lose my husband. We spent three days in the hospital, looking for answers from the medical community as to what was going on with him. There were no answers to give, the Professionals were stumped. Three excruciating days, and several baffled Doctors later, my husband woke up in his hospital bed and spoke to me again. To this day we still have no answers as to what happened to him during those three days or mentally “where he went”. But after a multitude of testing, we were comforted by the Neurologists and Doctors that assured us he was a healthy 30-year-old man.

I got my tattoo a couple of months later of my daughter’s birth flowers, poppies, and a star for my dear husband. I had the tattooist incorporate the butterfly into it, so the overall impression is of one lower-back piece. It is now a representation of major struggles and triumphs in my life that remind me daily of the strength of which I am capable.

I plan on getting another tattoo sometime in the near future, again something that can be woven into my current piece to represent my youngest daughter, but I don’t know what, or when that will be. I think it will probably just come to me, when the time is right…

Wordless Wednesday: My Birthday

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blog Awards!!!!

Some of my coolest friends live in my computer. One of them is friend Rose who blogs at Desert Rose Moments I can't remember how she found my blog but she always makes a point to comment on my posts. It always makes me smile. I need to return the love to her blog more often.

I was completely surprised and taken aback that she gave me my first two Blog Awards!! I'm so thankful. In fact I'm giddy with excitement. I feel like I'm legit now. They love me, they really love me!

Let's get this party started.

"This award is bestowed on to blogs that are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers.

Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."

I pass this award onto:

Knoxville Pixie - see my previous post about our Tweet-up. I love her dearly.

The Real Becks - a mom of two gorgeous girls. We both have dramatic 6 year old girls. We have to be friends. There is no other choice.

Bored Mommy - I know if I ever have a problem or need to talk off line Maria will be there for me.

Life Behind The Curve - Emmie is a new friend who I can commiserate with about the sucky parts of life.

Eight Days a Week -  What do you know? Our daughters have the same first and middle names. Instant friendship.

Life With Twins - Always a sweetheart and I love reading about the adventures of her twins.

My So Called Life - Funny, sassy and we must have drinks one day soon.

The Mommy Tsunami - One hawt mama to FOUR kids. I don't know how she does it. If I could wake up to tomorrow and look just like her I'd be in heaven!


Rose also gave me this award:

The rules are...

To accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award and his/her blog link. Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you have recently discovered and think are great! Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

I pass this award onto everyone listed above as well as:

Queen of Shake Shake

Mommy Needs Meds

Single mom Survives

One Nerve Left

Sarahcasm

Twenty Four At Heart


Now go and spread the love! Thanks again Rose.