Those dirty little D-words.

You know when you haven't talked to an old friend in months, but it really doesn't seem like months until you realize it has been MONTHS. That's how I feel about writing. No, I haven't been "cheating" on my blog and writing other places (unless you count Facebook which is a deceitful whore and sucks all the spare time out of you but good grief I can't get enough) but I honestly don't believe it's been that many months since I've written.

But truth is in the post dates. Shame on me.

So what is possessing me to write today? See title--D-words.

Divorce. Yes, divorce. It's been looming for a while but John and I have been shoving it aside telling each other it's not that bad. But deep inside I knew it was that bad. I'm a big girl though and I kept my big girl panties on and maintained appearances for him and the kids. So what if I was unhappy, everyone else was so I will continue to suck it up. And it was easy to do so because all other aspect of my life were so much better. I felt better, looked better, I was not as bitchy all the time. Exercise endorphins can do that. But whenever it came time to spend anytime with John I was miserable. And even though he refuses to admit it, he was miserable too. How do I know? He would constantly tell me how miserable he was; he wanted more of this, more of that. I don't give him enough affection or attention. I was always mad at him. I didn't love him enough. I didn't love him at all. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. He complained about so many things that I wasn't doing for him. Oh, but he was happy! I called bullshit.

It all came down to a road trip I took last month. I had freedom for a week. I was not a wife, or a mother and it was amazing. I had so much fun. I had twinges at times where I missed the kids so I would call and then I was quickly reminded by their bickering why exactly I had to get away. And when it came time to talk to John, I got off the phone so fast, you'd think it was on fire. There was absolutely NO twinges with him. During the week, my friend would say, "I miss my husband." or "I can't wait to get home to give my husband a big hug and kiss." I would smile and nod because I know she loves her husband with everything she has. I, of course, did not feel that way. I dreaded going home. And on the car ride home my friend pointed out that my mood got continually worse as we got closer to home. And she was right. I did not want to go home. I had no desire to walk into my house and have to spend any time with John because I knew he would be expecting me to walk in the door and give him a big hug and kiss and declare how much I missed him. That was not going to happen. And it did not happen. And he was upset.

For two days my friends wise words resonated with me. She essentially said, if I've done everything I could to stay married and I still was not happy, why am I staying in the marriage and making myself and John miserable? Then ended with the wisest saying of all, "Shit or get off the pot."

Then, after a day of grocery shopping and a semi-decent lunch out, on the ride home John started telling me about this "hot girl" he would talk to when he took the kids to school. He described her in length to me--at the time I had no idea who he was talking about, none of the mom's I saw were "smokin' hot"--and told me all about her and her life and where she worked, blah blah blah. And while he told me, I was amused. Not angry. Not jealous. Not hurt. And John asked, "Does it bother you that I'm talking about her?" My initial reaction was to laugh. Hell no it didn't bother me. How many times do I talk about how smokin' hot Adam Levine is? Or Robert Pattinson? Or Adam Levine? (might have mentioned him before). I didn't care if he found some other woman hot. He's not blind or dead. It's going to happen. I said to John, "No, doesn't bother me at all?" He was silent for a while then he said, "Don't you think it should?"  My turn to be silent. I was silent the rest of the 10 minutes in the car. 

When we arrived home there was a thickness in the air and we both knew something was looming. After the kids went to play we sat down and started talking. Yes, John, it should bother me that you find someone else "smokin' hot" and it's a local person, completely attainable. But it doesn't. Part of me wanted to say, "Go for it dude!" and give him a high-five. However the main part of me had come to the realization that I did not love him like I should. He is a good father, and when you remove all the relationship bullshit, I actually like him. But you can't remove all the relationship bullshit. That's the stuff that makes me recoil when he touches me. I don't want him hugging, kissing, or telling me he loves me because I DO NOT feel the same. For three years... three very long and difficult years I have tried to get over this repulsion I felt for him but I can't. Too much crap has happened that can't be taken away.

Truth be told, I've seen his ugly side. I've experienced it first hand. He's never been violent to me--minus a few shoves into counters and the washer (that was the best with his parents in the next room)--but he's been violent around me. He's punched quite a few walls in. I can count 5 holes in my walls from his fist or foot, or from some object he's kicked. All which he promised afterward to fixed but never did. And for the record, this has NOT happened in the last 3 years. He's gone to counselling, taken anxiety medication and made great strides to controlling his temper. And he's done an amazing job for it. I give him great kudos for doing that. But I can't forget.

So very amicably without heated words or yelling we decided to seperate. He knows I'm unhappy. And since we made the decision to seperate he's started to see how this probably is the best thing. Hell, even his mother agreed it was the best. I mean, come on! His own mother knew how bad it was! The hard part now is actually doing the seperating. I have to find a job which I haven't had to do in nine years. We decided to have me and the kids stay in the house and he'll move out but financially it's impossible right now. We are working on getting our ducks in a row so we can move forward.

Depression. That's the other D-word. Now the depression has set in. I thought because I have been exercising and managed to be a happier person it wouldn't hit me. I had my "meloncholy" traits under control. But depression doesn't work like that. She's a mean bitch and she will smack you down when you least expect it. My life is changing in a drastic way. I'm going to devestate my kids when I tell them their dad and I are seperating. That thought alone levels me to the ground. I don't want to hurt them and completely change their lives because I'm not happy. How selfish is that? And I can't find a job easily. For one, the job marking sucks ass right now. And I'm going to enter the job force after not working for 9 years when there's college graduates with degrees and some experience who will take the jobs I'll be applying. Who's going to want a woman who can only work certain hours and will probably need time off to tend to a sick kid when they can have some young, single person who can work any shift and not require time off? No one, that's who.

I'm trying to maintain my normal routines but now I feel like I can't depend on John as much as I used to. Every day I would wake up, and go to the gym while John stayed at home with the kids. He works graveyard so he was doing me a good deed by staying awake longer then he normally would so I can work out. But now, I feel guilty if I'm gone any later then 9:30-10am because I know how tired he is. (Not to mention he does it begrudgingly now which doesn't help any). And since we decided on the seperation I have been working out, but I haven't been as satisfied with the work out. I still come home exhausted and sweaty but I feel like I wasn't good enough. I'm disappointing my workout partner, and even though she swears up and down I'm not, I can't help but feel like I am. It's summer so the kids are at home so I have to find things to do for them and it's stressing me the fuck out! If we stay home they bicker all day long and it drives me insane. That bitch depression is seeping into every pore. I'm angry, and sad, and irritable, and cranky. And not to mention the need to sleep is there all the damn time. I've gone 6 months without needing a nap in the middle of the day and all the sudden I feel like if I don't, I'll die. What the hell is that? Oh yea, that bitch depression.

People who have never had to deal with depression don't understand. "Just shake it off." "Work out more, you'll feel better." "Eat better, it's probably because you're eating bad foods."  Well, fuck you all. It has nothing to do with that. I can't just shake it off. I am working out--even going on extra little walks and runs, still NOT helping. And I have been eating good. I'm not eating ice cream, donuts, cake, chocolate, candy, blah blah blah. I'm still eating my healthy food. It's not my food! It it just simply depression.

*sigh*

I know this post is crazy long but I feel like I needed to vent all this. Most of my friends and all of my family do not know about the divorce. No, that's a lie. I told my mom yesterday and I still don't know how she really feels. The shitty part of telling my mom is that I left a huge part of why I was seperating... I don't want to end up in a miserable marriage 20 years from now hating my husband but just hanging in there because I don't want to be alone--like my mom. My dear sweet mom has told me that several times recently. "Yes, you're miserable now, but think of how miserable you'd be alone?" Honestly, I will be so much happier alone then I won't be making anyone else miserable. My kids won't see me fighting with their dad all the time which I'm certain has already done permanant damage to them. They think that's what a marriage is all about. Hell, that's what I thought a marriage was all about watching my mom & dad. It's NOT. I know of three couples right now without even have to think too hard about it that I believe marriage is about. Those three couples love each other no matter what. I see how they are together. Yes, they get mad at each other, feeling stabby even but the love is still strongly evidant and that anger and annoyance never matters.

Oh gosh, I'm just babbling now. But I do believe writing has made me feel better. I apologize for the horrible grammar and spelling of this post. It was all just word vomit but like normal vomit, I feel better now that it's all out.

I will never have to say this again! Oh, who am I kidding,
if I'm going through a divorce I will be saying this all the time.

Random Thoughts & Music Monday

1. My last post was that of a ranting crazy person. And I apologize. But I was at the end of my rope. Regarding that, I had a long talk--and toilet training session--with my daughter the next day and things are improving. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the situation will continue to get better and then hopefully not be an issue.

2. Next week we are going on a family vacation to Disneyland. Well, Southern California to be exact. No, we are going to Disneyland... this trip was planned as a Disneyland trip. Disneyland. Disneyland. Disneyland. That's a difficult word to type over and over again. Disneyland. Anyway, I told my husband at the beginning of the year that if our tax refund was enough that I was going to take half of it and take this trip. He scoffed at the idea because he's not a big Disney person. Sometimes I question why I married him.  But he knew it was important to me and he obliged. And when we got the tax return and his time off got ok'd I booked the trip. And OH MY GOSH am I so excited!!!! The best part? We haven't told the kids. They have no idea we are going. So expect in about 2-3 weeks to see a video of them being surprised by the news. *grin*

This is when we went to Disneyland in 2009. Maybe they'll be a little more excited this time.

3. Last week I signed up for my first 5k. Holy shit, really? Yes, really. I'm doing the Shamrock Run in Portland on March 18th. It was one of my new year's resolutions and I am happy to say I'm going through with it. I've been running--at least trying to run--for the last week. I'm not doing as well as I thought I would but I'm getting there. I ran for 1 1/2 minutes straight on the treadmill this morning and nearly died. But it's better then last week when I couldn't make it a minute. I'm shooting for finishing in less then an hour. But I am intent on finishing. Go, go Shamrock runnerrs!!

Oh wait... why am I running this again?

4. Lastly, it is Music Monday. And I wanted to post about this last week but I think it was still kind of a raw and touchy subject for me. As everyone knows, we lost Whitney Houston this month. Because of the coverage and the media storm that has followed her death leads me to believe that I'm not the only person that she's effected. And I know there are millions of people my age who have the same story as me when it comes to her. She was instrumental in my childhood and young adult life. Her music could always make me smile, cry, laugh and sing with tremendous joy. My most vivid--and probably the most pivotal--memory I have in regards to her music was when I was 11 years old and my best friend Marcy, my boyfriend Bobby and I were sitting in the back of my parents truck going to a fair and we were singing "Greatest Love of All" at the top of our lungs. It's just one of those moments that will never move into the file cabinets of my memory--it stays on the top of the desk, in a frame, at all times. I still can't listen to that song without tearing up and thinking about that carefree moment in my life when I didn't care who could hear me sing I was just happy with my two best friends next to me singing Whitney Houston.

R.I.P. Whitney.

Mean Mommy, Oh How I Hate Thee

This is going to be word vomit mostly because I need to write about this and I feel absolutely horrible feeling this way. And it's about to get REAL, i.e. talk about the dirty stuff us moms have to deal with.

My daughter is 7 years old. She will be 8 in June. Most 7 year olds are mostly self-sufficient in a sense that they can dress, undress, shower, brush teeth, use the bathroom, tie shoes, amuse themselves for any amount of time, yadda yadda yadda.

My 7 year old can not.

Ok, that's not fair. She can dress, but I don't trust her to wear appropriate clothing (summer dress 2 sizes too small on a snow day was her last choice). She can undress but the clothes are still wadded up into balls making laundry so much fun! Take a shower? Yes... sort of. I still have to coach her through the hair washing part. Brush teeth: she's got that down (thankfully!). Tie her shoes: not yet but we are working on it. So many shoes now-a-days have elastic bands or zippers or are just pull ons so her shoe tieing has been delayed but it's getting better.. Amuse herself for any amount of time--she can do this but chooses not to sometimes, usually at the most inappropriate times.

So why did mean mommy emerge? She can not use the bathroom. There's no delicate way to put this so I'm just going to say the truth: She does not know how to wipe her butt.

I've been trying so hard to be patient with her, to teach her how to appropriately do this important hygenic skill and there are times she's a champ. And then she just forgets. No, seriously, that's her excuse... she forgets. How the hell do you forget to wipe your butt? Isn't that common sense?

I've tried being tough. I've tried being nice. I've tried being degrading (yes, I'm ashamed to admit), I've tried being supportive. Now I'm done and I'm totally pissed off.

Of all the things my daughter does that upset me, this is the worst and I am at my wits end. And I completely lost it tonight. What do I do to make her understand how important this is? I've followed her into the bathroom, I've talked her through the proper way to do it. But for the 7 hours she's at school it's out of my hands and that's when it's the worst. She just forgets.

After I sent her to bed this evening--which was at 7pm because I said to her that baby's don't know how to wipe so I'm giving her a baby bedtime--you'd think I burned her favorite toys in front of her. She screamed for over an hour and then after her brother went to bed, she used him as her messenger to come downstairs and tell me things she wanted/needed to tell me. I ended up yelling at my son and he was only trying to be a helpful brother!

I may need psychological help here. I may need an intervention. Someone needs to come here and explain to me and her just how to fix this situation. I don't want my daughter to be the dirty girl at school who stinks all the time. I just need to find some way to harness this anger of mine and find a way to be more productive and get positive--CLEAN--results.

I'm tired of yelling at her about it. She cowers into her room when I sort the laundry because she knows what's coming. I want... no, I NEED to find a way to nip this in the bud (or butt, so to speak!). I'm tired of mean mommy emerging because I really, really hate mean mommy.

Whew, ok. I feel better writing this all out. Not a wonderful blog post, and I'm sorry for that but I need to toss this out into the blogosphere before I completely explode!

Music Monday

I can't wait to have the energy--and time--to write about the nonsense I've been dealing with. But it's so difficult managing my time lately. I hope one of these days I'll find my groove and be back to writing about my spawn, or friends, or the crazy lady who lives next door with 15 grandchildren who play in the back yard in the rain.

But it is Music Monday.

And my music of choice this past week is a wonderful band Mumford & Sons.  I'm addicted. I think they are awesome and I feel everyone should feel the same.

My favorite song of theirs (right now) is "Roll Away Your Stone"

But if you listen to Top 40 radio, you might have heard "Little Lion Man."

If you haven't heard of them, I urge you to check them out. Here's a link to their Youtube page

I just think they are amazing. Can't get enough!

Going Through The Change

My life changed today. And I hope it's for the best.

If you are interested in following along with me go here .

It's about a fat girl (me) hoping to get skinny (which I will one day).

It's a big step, one that I didn't take lightly. And one I am taking 100% seriously.

Music Monday

I wanted to start doing Music Monday's last week but things got out of hand with the holiday and then a couple snow days after. But here it is Monday again--well, the day is almost over--so I'm going to try again.

Seriously, where does time go anyway?

So, without further ado, it is my music Monday and I'm going to try and put a different song up each week; one that is speaking to me at the moment or an all time favorite. No genre is safe. I like it all. Well, almost all.

Today, I'm looking at two songs with the same name. Two songs that are completely different. And two songs sung in different tones. Does that make sense? I feel like that doesn't make sense. Oh well. You'll see what I mean.

My pick today is Jolene. This version's original was written and performed by Dolly Parton. We all know who she is, right? This song is a classic. I grew up with it, my mom loved it (makes me wonder if she ever felt this way about someone) and it was played over and over in my household. And bonus, it came out the year I was born.

Fast forward 30 years and the music world gives us Jack White. The word genius is thrown around a lot with him. I'm inclined to agree solely based on his version of Dolly's song. Who can take a pure country song like this and rock it like this has to be a genius.

**I'd like to mention that Vicci Martinez from "The Voice" last year did an awesome rendition of this too. Wow...


I'm going to turn the page and bring out another song titled Jolene. I sing this version daily, sometimes several times a day. It has made it's way to my top 10 songs of all time. Yes... it's that good.

Ray Lamontagne wrote and performed this exquisite song. His voice is so... I mean, it's just... ugh, I can't even come up with good enough words to express how uniquely wonderful he is. Plus, I have a major ooey gooey soft spot for a man and his guitar.

And then there's Zac. Oh, Zac, how I love thee. Zac Brown Band got me interested in country again. I love their bluegrass, country, rock mix. The fiddles are awesome, the banjo kicks ass and Zac's voice is so pure. Again, a man and his guitar. But this version of Jolene made me love this song even more then I ever did. Probably because I can belt out this version so much better!

Music makes my life go round. And so does Dolly, Jack, Ray and Zac.

It Just Got Real

I've been writing nonsense for days now. And I have another nonsense post in the queue now. But I'm forgoing that to write a completely honest post. I'm about to get real--the kind of real that you only get with your best friend (who still hasn't watched Sense and Sensibility!) and the others closest to you.

Yes. It's time to talk about... S.E.X.

*cue in Salt-N-Pepa*


Sex has been a hot topic in my house recently. And by hot I mean, my husband and I both get really pissed off when it gets brought up. And by recently I mean, it's nothing new, it's an ongoing argument since FOREVER.

Here's how it starts:

Him: Wanna fool around?
Me: Nope.
Him: Why did you say it like that?
Me: Say it like what? I just said no.
Him: But you said it like your disgusted.
Me: The answer no is always disgusting to you. I said no. Leave it at that.
Him: But you always say no. Haven't we been getting along good? I did <enter good deed for the week> like you asked?
Me: I don't feel like it. End of discussion.

But that is never the end of the discussion. He starts getting upset because he's been turned down. I start getting upset because he won't just take a simple no for an answer. And the cycle starts.

See, I do this with my kids. Not that I'm comparing my husband to my kids but.. ok, yes I am. I wage a person's maturity on how they handle the word no. If you are going to whine and cry and be pissy about it, I'm going to remember that the next time. If you are going to say, "OK." and walk away, that gains a lot of merit with me. Sure, I know you're upset and I can accept that but if you are going to be a freakin' baby about it, I refuse to accept it.

This is what happens when my husband hears no. He becomes a whiney baby about it. Sex is something he needs. He can't live in a marriage without it. Can't I just forget about the other stuff that is preventing me from wanting to have sex and just do it?

Other stuff = disrespect, ignorance, absence, immaturity, and laziness.

Um, no. I can't just "forget" the other stuff.

We have been through hell in our marriage. I was on the brink of divorce. I was shopping lawyers and looking for other living options. I had the apartment picked out, the schools my kids would go to and the potentional jobs I would apply for. I was serious about it.  But that was 3 years ago. I stayed and we mended a lot of things that were wrong.

Unfortunately, our sex life is still trying to mend. I don't see him the same anymore. The pain he caused me is very difficult for me to overcome. I love him as a person. I think he is a good father, a good man, and sometimes very fun to be around. But that pain is still there. I don't love him as I did before. There is no romantic love. It brings tears to my eyes saying that but it's true. My heart doesn't flutter when he comes home. His phone calls and/or texts don't bring a smile to my face. I have zero desire to have sex with him.

Have I lost my desire for sex? Um... no. It's still there. And sometimes it gets overwelming... and that's all I'm going to say about that... uh, hum.

My labido is a tricky thing. Because say if I was able to overlook the other stuff, my own sexual need can probably make me blind to it. Because orgasms can make anything better. Am I right? Let's pretend all that "other stuff" is gone. Suddenly, I have the perfect husband in front of me who looks like Adam Levine and treats me like a princess. I could let this labido of mine out of the cage right?

No. I can't. Because that cage is made of bulletproof steel made up of insecurities and extreme body issues. Honestly, this is what I feel I look like:

Fat, scaley, and very very mean!

How can I feel sexy when I look like that? Or at least think I look like that? Sex? No thank you. Cheeseburger? Hell yea! I just... I can't. I don't want to have sex looking like that. I shutter to think of myself under (or on top of) anyone when I feel like I could suffocate them with my belly.

I am doomed. I know I am all screwed up in my brain when it comes to sex. And I'm terrified that it's too far into my life to change my thinking. I have to be completely honest with myself... will it ever change? I've given my husband examples why I don't want to (I'll keep those to myself, thank you!) and what if he actually changes those things I found so unattractive. And what if I suddenly lose 60 pounds and feel amazing, look amazing and I won't feel like Mama Therazane up there but more:



Sexy, fierce, very very agile!

I'll be smokin' hot, he'll be virtually perfect... will I want to have sex even then??

Honestly... I need to know... will I?