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skeletoeshttp://skeletoes.comI'm a twenty something single mother. I am neurotic and quirky and really bounce around a lot. I have a really hard time expressing myself person to person, so I use my personal blog to do so. :)

Reset.

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Some habits are hard to break.

No shit right?  I am such a creature of habit that I hurt my own head sometimes.  I’ve slowly but surely been breaking the bad ones, one at a time.  The more habits I destroy, the more confident I become.

Yes, I still smoke, I’m still working on that.  After 13 years, it’s a tough one.  So I’m slowly pushing at it and will eventually win.

In the meantime though I’ve given up quite a few.

I used to eat fast food at least once a week or once every other week.  I admit, it was easy to just stop at McDonalds after a long day of work and get a quick dinner for me and the short one.  I didn’t realize how often I was eating it until I actually sat down and looked at my checkbook register one day.  Yeaaaaah.  No.  So I stopped.  As a family we *maybe* buy fast food once every 6 weeks, if that.  Seriously, try it.  Whenever we do stop, even just junk food at a sit down restaurant, or a delivered lunch to work, I’m shocked at how much my body revolts afterwards.  I’ll feel sluggish, greasy, tired and slightly sick.  Every single time.

Once we cut that down, I started with more (in season) fresh veggies and fruits instead of canned and processed.  I’ve always prefered to eat fresh, but always felt exasperated in the Winter and Spring.  Well go figure, if you eat what is in season in your area or close by, it’s a lot easier.  Meals are a lot more fun to make now, and I feel better after I eat as well.  Since we incorporated more fresh veggies and fruits into our diets I have also noticed that Noodle complains less about her stomach and has an easier time with her moods as well.  Related?  I’d like to think so.

So one thing I’m working on that will shock the hell out of everyone and their mom is coffee.  No, no, no, NO.  I’ll never cut coffee completely out.  I love the taste of it, the comfort that I’ve attached to it over the last decade or so.  Coffee is soothing to me, helps me clear my head.  I enjoy it.  Not to mention the health benefits of a cup of good joe.  However, y’all know, left up to my own devices I can easily drink several pots a day.  As I’m getting older I’ve noticed the caffeine hits my body harder… and more importantly hits my crohns as well.  So I’ve been substituting tea in where I can.  Some with caffeine and some without.

With my Crohns flaring (again), I’ve started drinking more Lemon, Peppermint and Ginger Tea and to say I’ve noticed a difference is an understatement.  A bit of iced green tea is a good replacement for my iced coffee on lunch.  My stomach (while still trying to claw it’s way out) is much easier to manage, and the anti-inflammatories from the tea definitely seem to be helping me tolerate solid food quicker than usual.  The Guava-Ginger tea I picked up at the market, and the Ginger-Lemon I’ve been drinking for a couple of weeks calm down my stomach quickly.

There might be something to this natural crap.  *smirk*  Hey, anything’s worth a try after you live off of drugs that CAUSE CANCER.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe that I’ll ever live med-free (for long anyway).  I have severe Crohns Disease, and it has me by my non-existent balls.  However, I’ve made it a personal goal to stay off the prednisone and 6mp because of what they did to my body the last time.  Maybe these last few strides to improve my lifestyle will give my body that last kick it needs to get into remission.  Who knows.

All I know is that regardless of whether or not I have surgery to remove the fistula/strictures, this lifestyle is here to stay.  I’ve got to give this body a fighting chance, so why not?

 

Growing Up or Growing Into?

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It’s Saturday Night y’all!  The boyfriend is hanging out with his brother, and my kid is asleep.  Logically the next step is brew some coffee and write some bullshit.  So yeah.  Here I am.  On the internet.  Three minutes ago I had a realization, something that hit me so hard, so fast, that I immediately felt that need to get the words out of my head.  I can’t find my favorite pen, so blog it is.

I am a New Sarah.

Over the past 15 years, I have reinvented myself several times.  No one Sarah was completely the same.  Some Sarah’s were no good, some Sarah’s were too work-involved, some Sarah’s were at the bottom of the bottle, and some Sarah’s were domesticated housewifes.  So here we go again, I finally realized that I am a completely new Sarah again.

This new Me has been evolving for roughly 3 years.  The Divorce from “He who shall not be named” threw me to rock-bottom.  I wasn’t the best person, I wasn’t the best mom, and I wasn’t a good friend.  Honestly, I didn’t even like me.  Not even a little bit.  Actually, if Present-Day-Me met Me-From-3-Years ago, I’d slap her.  Or me.  Whatever, you get the gist.

I had to have a couple of major blows to my life to straighten out.  Those blows sucked, but I finally got it figured out and apparently just ran with it.  Usually my reinventions are somewhat similar.  Some sort of aspect stays with the next Me, thankfully, this time, the only thing that has stuck is my fuck-you-I-can-do-this attitude.  I think I’m just so amazed because of it.  Looking back on 3 years ago, I am borderline ashamed.  I have moments of deep shame, but then I remind myself that everything I did, caused, or went through, kicked my ass enough to learn from it.  Nonetheless, I am glad to say goodbye to the Old Sarah.  I am glad to kiss that life goodbye and stop glancing over my shoulder to make sure it’s not following me.

Today was a perfect day.  The Boyfriend had to work, so we had a Noodle and Mama Day.  We relaxed together a bit this morning, and after a quick breakfast hopped in the car and headed out.  We ran a couple of errands and then had lunch together.  After lunch, we went straight to the local farmer’s market and bought mushrooms (Noodle), Onions (as a complement to Noodle’s mushrooms), and peanut butter cookies (Me, duh).  Then we went shopping, we roamed around a couple of stores, causing a bit of trouble and looking for deals.  At Target I learned that my kid can con cookies off of ANY bakery in ANY store ANNNNND go back for SECONDS.

We came back to the house and set up some venison chops to marinate, and went right back outside.  It was a gorgeous day, and I don’t think either one of us could stay inside another day.  I had bought her a big jug of bubbles, so I sipped my iced coffee and she blew and chased down and stomped hundreds of bubbles.  A good grilled dinner and some relaxing, and she’s tucked into bed asleep.  I managed to clean the house before I ended up on my computer.

What made me realize the change in myself is that as I brewed my cup of coffee I realized I was/am completely happy and content.  That moment, as my coffee brewed, I thought back and realized how different not only I was, but how different I felt compared to a few years ago.  I finally learned how to live for me (and my daughter) instead of to someone else’s standards, or how I thought I was *supposed* to be.  I finally learned to love ME and my life, all the little quirks and troubles.  I learned to be happy with myself and enjoy the little things, and do it sober.

Things are not perfect and this life has had some pretty shitty moments, but now I realize that it will never be perfect, but I can make it as damn close as I can, and enjoy the ride there.

 

It feels good to stop looking into the past.

A Working Mom’s Exasperation

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You asked why I don’t like you, but really you should ask why I don’t respect you.

I just got home, 12 hours after I left my house this morning.  I have to pull some over time because we lost a girl at the office.  That’s okay with me, extra cash on my paycheck never hurts, and I’m still home by dinner.  I guess me and the kid are going to head into the office tomorrow so I can finish up some stuff, that way I won’t have to spend that much extra time there next week.  I miss my kid during the week while she’s at school, I don’t like missing her any longer.  So we have plans to hang out with her aunt tomorrow and some fun activities for Sunday as well.

I work hard at my job because I pride myself in being successful.  I love my “grown-up” job because it allows me to make enough money to pay for my daughter’s school, clothes, and of course the basics.  I make enough now, that with some budgeting, I can afford fun stuff and vacations.  I work this hard because I like caring for my family and knowing I can provide for them, and I want to set a good example for my girl.  I love my “grown-up” job because I work during her school hours and a tad bit before and after.  That way she’s home with me as much as possible and we can spend time together.

I take pride in my home and in my family.  The majority of my actions are involving them.  I make decisions that will benefit not just me but my entire family.  I believe that raising your child is supposed to be the most important job of a mother.  I do my best to raise her right and be a good mother.  To provide a loving, stable home in which she can thrive despite life’s obstacles.

I have worked long and hard to fix my life after I divorced my ex-husband.  I worked all sorts of jobs until I found one that allowed me to spend more time with her and afford my bills at the same time.  I learned how to deal with the fact that she is in school now, and I miss her dearly when she’s there.  I bought and fixed up a house, and do my best to have a family dinner every night.  Call me traditional, but it’s good enough for me.  I went from a stay at home mom in an abusive relationship to a working mother who has found a career and is thriving.

You wonder why I don’t like you.  You stand for everything I strive not to be.  You are the stereotypical welfare mom.  You defraud the government for more welfare by claiming people you shouldn’t and by working for cash.  You work at a bar, and hang out there when you’re not working, all the while insisting that you can’t get a new job because there’s nothing out there.  Right.  Um retail.  You really don’t have any bills since you don’t pay for food, childcare, or medical.  I don’t even think you pay rent.  Get a day job.  You’ve been working that shit hole bar for 3 years.  Time to move on.  I don’t respect you because you are a poor excuse for a mom.  You choose your friends and your bar-job over your son.  You say “Oh he’s only with me 1 day this week” like it’s no big deal, when by friday, I miss my daughter so much by the time I pick her up from school that I want nothing more than to hug her, and I still see her every day. Your son will grow up to remember that you were not there when he needed you most.  You complain when the government finally catches you ripping off welfare and blame everyone but yourself.  Because obviously, since you’re a single mom, the world owes you something.  You shouldn’t have to work hard to take care of your children.  You shouldn’t have to work at all!  You shouldn’t have to spend time with your kids, because hey, that’s what your parents are for!  God forbid you use the money you *do* earn to buy your child food, when the government pays you for FREE.

So moral of the story here?  Don’t tell me you know how hard it is, when you clearly don’t know.  You haven’t had to raise your own child in 3 years, nor do you even pay your own bills.  Once you grow up and realise that you actually have to BE there for your child, that your child ranks far over your social life, once you get a job that provides for yourself and your child, or hell even SHOW interest or LOOK…. then I might respect you.

Everyone has their low points, hell, in the past 10 years I’ve been on a got-damned rollercoaster.  But you know what?  I picked myself up off the ground and improved myself and my life to benefit my children.  There’s nothing wrong with working at a bar, as long as you make decent money and spend time with your child.  But once a week, is not it.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with going out and having fun, but if your fun DIRECTLY IMPACTS YOUR CHILD, it’s time to stop.  Everyone hits a financial hard point, and some of us (myself included) have needed state aid.  But it’s there for emergencies, until you improve your situation, it’s not a way of life.  It’s there to help you up when you need a hand, and that’s it.  When you’ve been at the same rock-bottom-point of your life for 3 years, and you don’t see a problem with it, it’s time to grow up.  It’s not about you anymore, it’s about your child.

[I apologize to anyone if I offended them, this is my own personal opinion after being on both sides of the fence.  I do not have respect for someone who lives on welfare for years.  Nor do I have respect for parents who don't see their children on their own choice.  I don't have respect for people who are in a shit situation but refuse to fix their lives, even worse expect other people to fix it for them.  Sorry.]

Easter for the Non-Religious

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It’s already Easter, March just flew by!  It seems I was just bitching about it only being February and BAM! Tomorrow’s the first day of April.  Easter weekend isn’t anything too special for my family, I haven’t been particularly religious since I was a kid.  Basically after the trauma of losing my Mother when I was in 5th grade, Christianity just morphed into “being a good person”.  Don’t get me wrong, I believe in God, I just don’t believe in organized religion or practicing my faith with in a church.  What it comes down to for my family and I is regardless of what you believe, try and be a good person.  I guess I’ll find out if that’s the wrong answer at the end of my life.  *Shrugs*

Easter as a kid was a big production for our family.  We’d all go (were dragged) to church in the morning after raiding our Easter baskets.  After church we’d head to my grandparents house for an Easter Egg hunt and dinner.  It was usually my grandparents, my parents, my sister and I, my Aunt and her daughter.  Definitely some fond memories there.

Like I already said, my family isn’t too religious.  I intend on teaching Nood about Christianity (and other religions once she gets a little older) so she can make the decision for herself.  So our house is pretty tame on Easter.  Of course we do Easter baskets and egg hunts, and most years we go to my parent’s house where they do an egg hunt for Nood.  This year we’re postponing it until next weekend.

One of the wonderful things about this Easter is that I had Good Friday off.  So hurrah for three day weekends!  Nood had a costume party at school on Friday, so I gave her the option of staying home with me or school, and she chose home.  So we hung out all day and relaxed.  Saturdays are always filled with errands here, so it was mostly shopping and cleaning, which we got a lot done.  Today though, today was extra nice.

Ry had to go help his sister move, so we did the Easter Baskets/Egg hunt first thing and then I dropped him off at the train.  Noodle and I came back and hung out for a couple of hours this morning and then cooked lunch together.  She helped make grilled cheese (with swiss on everything bread!!) and tomato soup.  Lunch together today was different.  There was no whining about food or any of that, she actually talked.  Like told me her “great ideas” and what she wanted to do this summer.  She’s a very vocal child as it is, meals are usually just punctuated with complaints since she’s the pickiest eater alive.  So it was definitely nice.

After lunch it was finally in the 50′s outside and the sun was shining.  We headed out in the backyard for a few hours, I got some writing in and Nood ran around like crazy alternating between the trampoline and swing set.  I think the sun did both of us some good.  Afterwards she helped me shell all of our coloured eggs and make Deviled Eggs.  I even got her to try one.  She tried so hard to eat it without making faces or complaining.  I had to laugh and let up on her.  Ha.

It was just really nice.  I’ve picked up Ry already, and Nood got some bike riding time in on her new bike with the neighbor boy so everyone’s pretty content.  I’ve sent Ry out to grill the skirt steaks I stuck in a marinade earlier, and for now it’s eerily quiet as the kid relaxes.

I was a little bummed about moving Easter Dinner at my parent’s to next weekend at first, but I ended up having a blast with my kid.  I wouldn’t trade today for anything.  Besides, next weekend is a double whammy.  My birthday (I’m growing down now) and Easter.  Fuck yes, I’m going to eat everything and drink too much wine.  :)

 

Hope everyone had a wonderful weekend too regardless of whether you celebrate or not.  Happy Spring!

An Open Letter To The Ex-Wives

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[Explanation:  This is not a hack on all single mothers or all ex-wives.  This is for those women who divorce a man for whatever reason but then refuse to let go.  This is for the women who get mad when things start going right for the man that *they* walked out on. This is for those mothers who spend too much money on frivolous shit and then complain when they don't have money for their half of their child's necessities.  Take offense if you must but if you do, think about why you're offended. ] [ This is also not a dig on mothers who want their ex-husbands to pay child support or their half of the child's expenses.  I am also a mother, who unfortunately has an ex-husband who doesn't pay a dime. ]

 

Hey you,

Yeah you.  I’m sure this will get around to you some how.  Someone you know will see it and link it to you, and that’s okay.  I’m cool with that.  I am also writing this so other ex-wives understand what they have signed up for.

I just wanted to explain something to you.  I am an ex-wife too, I, like you decided to end my marriage and continue on, on my own.  More power to you!  However, there are consequences to your actions, especially when your ex-husband decides to enter a long-term relationship with a girl like me.

I am a single mother.  I do it all with out any child-support or assistance from the state (not that that is wrong, unless you abuse it… ahem).  I have worked my ass off to get to where I am today, which includes a mortgage, car, as well as day to day expenses.  I am proud of the fact that I’ve managed to make it this far, and if my accomplishments bother you, too bad.

So lets get down to what is bothering you then shall we?

From what I guess, you’re kind of salty that the man you divorced is living a stable and happy life.  My mistake, but what you could do is maybe get a “real” job, you know one with benefits and hours that let you actually spend time with your kid.  You know, the kind where you don’t drink *and* pay your taxes?  It’s not his fault that you’re broke and it’s not my fault that you’re in the same place as you were when you left him.

Speaking of money.  I’ve told you numerous times that I’ll give you half of the money that is needed for something.  I offered to pay for half of the school supply package, I have no problem paying half of baseball, I have no problem buying the kid clothes.  Hell, I called you a little over a week ago and asked what clothes he needed, “Just maybe some basketball shorts, he’s fine other than that.”  Apparently you forgot that information since “Well he needs a whole new wardrobe” popped up today.  I am not a fool.  I will not be bailing you out of whatever financial hole you have gotten yourself into.  One of the consequences of getting a divorce is becoming financially independent.  It’s called budgeting.

Also, as you may now know, money does not grow on trees.  I understand that you want to send your child to some camp that magically costs $400 (which by the way, I have internet, you shouldn’t lie).  We unfortunately do not see that as reasonable, so we cannot come up with that large of a sum of money.  We do have bills to pay, remember, we’re *not* on welfare?  As a mother myself, I cannot favor one child over another, and since I cannot afford to send my daughter to camp, I cannot afford to send your kid either.  I’m a huge fan of avoiding favoritism.

Also, I need you to remember that you’re the EX.  You are no longer apart of my boyfriends life.  You left him, so there should be no bitching.  I can’t believe that he has repeatedly had to explain to you that he doesn’t want to hear about your day.  There is no need for daily phone calls unless it is from his child or about his child.  I need you to realize that beyond the fact that you’re still alive and at least attempting to provide your child with a good life, neither of us care.  I’m sorry this seems to bother you so much, but you’d think after 2 years you would’ve gotten used to this.  I’ve tried to stay out of it, but apparently you need to hear it from me as well.  I will call you if I have to, and as you already have learned, I will tell you what’s on my mind, how things work with me, and you will listen… again.

You know, we’ve already had this conversation once.  I figured you’d get it, but apparently not.  I realize that there is an adjustment period to getting over the fact that your ex-husband is happy with out you, but honey it’s been 2 years.  Time to get moving.  You can call me the wicked-step-mother or whatever you may, because frankly it doesn’t bother me.  You just need to realize that I’m not going anywhere, I’m here to stay, and I am most definitely not a fool.  The man you left has changed as well, he’s made himself stronger and refuses to be a doormat again.

So I guess what it comes down to is – Suck it up buttercup, because this is the way it is.

 

Sincerely,

A very aggravated girlfriend.

Intolerance and Hate

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I had “friended” someone on Facebook that I knew as a child.  She was one of my mother’s friends and I looked up to her after my mom passed away.  I lost touch with her for years and the wonderful world of Facebook brought us back together.

Unfortunately the line that is drawn between us is way to great and I had to delete her.  Our political stances and morals/beliefs are too far apart and I can’t deal with that.  I’d say we’re polar opposites like me and my wonderful friend Em are,  but it’s beyond that.  I’m middle-left-leaning.  She’s so far right, I swear Obama turned gay and personally shat in her Wheaties

As most of you know two very important bills are up today that involves same-sex marriage and rights.  As most of you (should) know, I am FOR equal rights.  I acknowledge that in Christianity marriage is between a man and a woman, but I also realize that not all people are Christian.  Not all people think that way.  Frankly, I believe that marriage is between love and love.  If there so happen to be two penises in the equation, it doesn’t bother me.  If there happens to be two vaginas involved, fuck yes.

Anyway, so in my support of the gay community, I changed my profile picture and posted this:

Booyah bitches.

Booyah bitches.

 

… among other things.  Well, it attracted my mother’s friend.  Her response was to compare same sex marriage to pedophilia.  Yeah.  I’m not cool with that.  I am not even going to waste time to type why I’m not cool with that.  If you don’t know the difference between pedophilia and a same-sex relationship, or think there is any kind of comparison or lead to pedophilia, you honestly shouldn’t be reading my blog.  Or on my Facebook.  Or anywhere near my corner of the internet/county/state.

I informed her that I thought it was a disgusting comparison and was met with several links to articles about pedophilia and nasty groups that are for it.  Needless to say I told her she was a bigot and filled with hate, and that does not belong on my page, or in my life.  I stopped responding and calmed down with a friend over the phone.  Once I calmed down, I un-friended her.

Not only am I offended by her, or appalled might be more of a correct term.. but I am saddened.  I thought that maybe I could learn more of my mother through her.  I have my dad of course, but no one knows a woman like another woman.  I looked forward to selfishly getting something out the relationship but ended up with hate filling my page.

It’s odd.  I’ve always known about the bigots and the racists and such.  Hell, I’ve run into them out in every day life, but to find out someone that you looked up to and looked to as a child has such hatred in her heart is hard to swallow.  I don’t blame it on Christianity at all either, so don’t start that nonsense.  I know that most Christians aren’t like that, but it’s still hard to wrap my head around.

So I guess this is it.  Sorry Mom, I had to delete your friend.  I’m glad you’re not here anymore because I’d have to ask you what the hell you were thinking in the first place.

Spoiling Yourself, Just Do It

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Anyone who has kids will understand this, hell singletons and child-free people will get it too.  It’s something I refer to as Mommy-Guilt.  Ever since I had A, I have always felt guilty spending money on myself.  If I could finally convince myself that I need to buy some clothes (in a regular store – I’m also a thrifter), I’d never make it to the register with the *one* pair of jeans.  If I did, I’d curse myself all the way out the damned door.  If I made it to the car, 9/10 times I’d return it before I even got out of the parking lot.

I’ve always been a bit frugal (read: CHEAP), but after A was born it got out of hand.  We’d go to the store with the intention of getting everyone a few new outfits, and I could never bring myself to get myself something.  It was always “Well, the baby needs something new” or “I really don’t need more than the jeans I have, A needs new shoes (again)” or “You know, I have to pay a couple bills, I don’t need this *right* now anyway.”  It didn’t matter if I was down to two pairs of undies and my socks were ruined, I put myself off because something always came before me.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized a little bit behind my thinking, and in the process got angry at myself.  I got angry at my ex-husband for enabling it.  What I had been doing was putting myself at the bottom of the list.  I had the mindset that I was the least important, I didn’t deserve to buy things for myself.  Who was I to spend money on myself when that money could go to (insert random bill here) or something new for A, hell, new toys for the cats came before I did.  I was perfectly capable of buying another new jacket for my ex-husband or another set of baby shoes for A.  Which is not bad in and of itself, but when it came to things I needed, I neglected myself.  I felt like everyone else deserved more than I did.  I felt like a “bad-mom” or a “bad-wife” if I spent money on myself.  It seemed that surely that money could go somewhere else.

You know what?  It could go somewhere else.  I could skip getting myself clothes and save the money for the next bill.  I could skip that new CD download because A will need something soon.  I could put myself last because there will always be something else that needs me to throw money at it.  No matter what you do, there will *always* be something else you could be saving your money for.  Your kids need to be your top priority, but why aren’t you on top too?

You need to take care of yourself too.  You need to treat yourself every once in a while for your own sanity.  As a woman and a mother I know I’ll always put my child and family before myself, but after almost 27 years it finally hit me.  I deserve it.

…

So today we had to run to the store to get the animals some food and pick up milk and bread.  I took a shower and was drying my hair off and I thought about buying a new round brush so I could do my hair right.  Last week I had gotten my first haircut in over a year but had nothing to style it with.  I shrugged, I figured I’d just keep using headbands.  No big deal, it’ll grow out long enough for a clip soon enough.  I turned around, stepped on my last clip and it broke.  I picked it up and threw it away.  I’d buy another one some day.

I went to get dressed.  (I’m very thrifty – so I do have skirts, leggings and a couple pairs of jeans – I love Goodwill!)  I noticed that a lot of my socks and undies were worn.  I tossed out the ones that weren’t worth wearing anymore, or had too many toe holes.  There wasn’t much left.  I tried to think of the last time I bought some undies or socks for myself while I tried to find my bra.  I have one bra that still functions.  I found it in the laundry basket, one of the straps was almost frayed through.  I laughed, I knew the last time I had bought a bra, it was the weekend after my divorce was final… ’09.

I finished throwing on some clothes, got Noodle dressed and put on my boots.  I was super lucky at christmas, my parents bought me two pairs of boots for Winter.  I love them and have worn them daily.  I did however just buy Noodle her spring shoes, and she wanted to wear the gym shoes today.  I dug through the closet and realized there were a lot of busted and old shoes that needed tossing (we all wear our shoes until they are in pieces or Noodle outgrows them).  I started tossing the old ones in a bag, the use-able ones in a tote for the thrift.  Once I found her shoes and the closet was organized, I realized that I had one pair of gym shoes and flip flops from dollar general.  I thought about shoes for spring, then instantly thought “well, A will need clothes for spring soon, I’ll worry about it then.”

Something snapped.  It hit me, all of the things I neglect for myself.  All of the things I promised I’d buy myself when I got my promotion, all of the things I promised I’d get with my tax return when the promotion came and went and I still put myself off.  Damnit, I had bought something for everyone but me,  I wanted functional things too.

I dragged Ry and Nood out of the house and to the store.  We picked up the things we needed for the animals and the house, and then we went over to Target.  I told Ry that I was going shopping and told my mind that I *would* pay.

By the time I was at the register I had a pair of flats and a cute pair of wedges, 4 bras, headbands and a brush, bodywash (not the dollar general variety lol), post-its and pens (work), and some containers to organize pet crap with that I had been eyeing.  I had to think about anything and everything to keep my mind off of the money I was spending.  The nice register girl rang me up and I swiped my card.  The receipt printed out and I snapped at Ry and Noodle to get out to the car.

The whole way home I kept trying to justify that I needed these things.  I kept thanking Ry for “letting” me buy things (haha, I control the finances), and reassuring (no one but me) that I had money for all the bills and such.  I forced myself to take a deep breath and relax.

I do deserve nice new bras and shoes once in a while.  I do deserve to buy basic hygiene crap even if it isn’t the generic version.  I do need to put myself first once in a while.  I need to remind myself to treat myself and take care of myself too.  I need to get a haircut more than once every year, I need to buy undies and such when I need them.  I need to buy us girls new nail polish, I need to wear shoes with out holes in them.  If the bills are paid, my child has what she needs, there is plenty of food, then yes, I need to take care of myself too.

 

 

I just wish it didn’t take so long for me to realize this.

I wish that it wasn’t an acceptable way of thinking.

Happy Sunday everyone, make sure that you treat yourself once in a while.  You deserve it.

My Bitter Moment of the Day

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Today I am home with the kiddo, her tummy is upset and she didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. I picked her up from school yesterday, before she even got her jacket on she started complaining of her tummy hurting.  I didn’t think too much of it, “my tummy hurts” has become the most recent excuse to avoid trying something new at dinner.

Halfway home, her banter about how her day went cut off and a meek “I have to go to the bathroom” came out of the backseat.  ”Honey, we’re about 2 minutes from home, you’ll have to hold it.”  ”Okay” she said and the rest of the car ride was quiet.

We pulled into my driveway, and she opened her door right away.  As soon as she had two feet on the ground she bent over and threw up.  My mouth just dropped.  ”See mom, that’s why I had to go to the bathroom.”  Pretty talented if you ask me, when I have to puke, I can’t hold it for 4 blocks.

So we got inside, with me hoping she just ate too much at snack time and she made it 2 minutes before she puked again.  She puked on and off all night and didn’t sleep too well when she did manage to sleep.  I got up with my alarm this morning at 4:45, checked on her and let my boss know that I couldn’t come in today.

I’m sitting on the couch, with a half asleep child laying next to me.  PBSkids on the tv and Noodle barely paying attention unless I go to change the channel at which she bolts awake and tells me “Mom! I’m watching that!”

She’s feeling a bit better this morning, the puking has stopped for the most part and she ate some dry cereal.  She’s just out of it and wants to relax.  Which is fine with me, we’ve been relaxing on the couch together and I’ve been getting some of the laundry done.  We’re going to try something light for lunch in a little bit.  Hopefully that goes well.

…

This last week has been rough on me for a multitude of reasons.  I haven’t been feeling well to top everything off, which just makes for a cranky me in general.  So each day, on my way to work I think about how everything has turned out.  I’m happy I suppose, but the grass is always greener.

- Regardless of my feelings now or anything else, I am glad I divorced A’s dad.  He wasn’t good for me, and I’m not so sure about for A either.  I am glad I took that step and I will never regret the action to have a safer, happier life.-

Life is stable over here finally.  Both Ryan and I have good jobs with steady paychecks, he likes his job which makes getting him up in the morning that much easier.  Noodle has a school in which she (and I) love, she has wonderful teachers and is thriving.

It just bugs me.  Up until a few months before my divorce, I was a stay at home mom.  In my family (this does not pertain to you, it’s not meant to offend you) it was important to me to be able to stay home with my kid(s).  I could have never predicted that my marriage would turn out the way it would and I’m lucky I’ve been employed since then, but shit.  I finally have a job with normal hours (I’ve been there for 2 years next month) so that makes life a little easier, but I’d still rather be at home and taking care of my kid.  I never thought I’d end up in the work force full-time, I always assumed that until A was out of the house, I’d be a part-timer so I could focus on her and our home.

So post-divorce I’m a working mother.  It’s just aggravating and I can feel my knuckles go white on that drive into the office.  It’s hard especially when shit at the office has been annoying me.  So I’m driving in to a job that makes me want to lobotomize myself, because of which my daughter goes to school 2 hours early and stays 1 hour late (6:30ish to 4:30ish) (which I realize isn’t as bad as it was before my schedule change but still).  I drive in to a job that I automatically lose 1/3 of my pay to the extra hours at daycare (the ex was ordered to pay half of school/daycare costs and child support, but that hasn’t happened since I was divorced in ’09). I drive into a job that I normally like, where I make decent pay (despite A’s school fees) but because of it, dinner becomes a chore, daycare spends more time with my kid than I do, and weekends are so jammed up with shit from during the week that there isn’t a whole lot of time for fun.

The topic has come up with Ryan that once he gets his raise in a couple months, that I can stay home.  Trust me on this one, there has been numerous times this past week that that seemed like a great idea.  It’s hard to think it’s not.  However, the grass is always greener.  Even if Ryan makes enough for a comfortable living, we’d still lose the money that my job brings in to supplement and save.   I wouldn’t have money for the extra things for the kids and wouldn’t be able to put money in our “going-on-vacation-finally” fund or “get-the-hell-out-of-my-house-kids!” fund.  Two things that I definitely like putting money in.  Plus with this economy, I don’t think I could walk away from a job I (mostly) like that is pretty damned stable, and rely solely on one income again.  You never know what could happen, and I know I’d regret leaving my job if Ryan ever lost his.

 

The grass is always greener, I’ll just keep repeating that.  In the meantime I’m off to get the kid in the bath and find something for lunch.

Expectations are a Bitch and a Half

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I am the ultimate pessimist.  I am.  I’ve been a raging-skull-punch-you-on-the-way-down pessimist as long as I can remember.  I always explain it like this: Hope for the best but always assume it won’t happen because life sucks and you should just get a helmet.  Sometimes, always expecting the negative in a situation bums me out and irritates people but you know what?  Screw off, there is a perk!!  If you expect nothing to happen, or plan for worst case scenario, when things do go your way it’s even better!

Ie:  Holding out for a new position at work.

Expectation: My ass getting canned and THEN denied unemployment.

Reality: Received promotion and desk with sparkles in it.  (You can’t beat sparkles.) (Stop laughing.)

Being a pessimist has almost become a safety blanket for me.  It’s just one more way I protect myself from getting hurt or upset when shit hits the fan… you know, because I expected it to, so I was prepared.

The only catch is is that people are not included in this mess of a safety net.  For some reason, my hopes expectations of people are just as high as I have set for myself.  This includes everyone, I’m talking from my neighbors to my boyfriend, from my kid to the little shit who lives 5 houses down.  Everyone.  Yes.  I’m talking about you.  I’m talking about family, I’m talking about doctors, I’m talking about co-workers, I’m talking about that kid who changed my oil last weekend.  I’m talking about the lady who owns the laundry mat all the way to the got-damned President of the United States.  I’m also talking about the person who is criticizing the fuck out of me for my run-on sentences.  Yes, you too asshole.  I have high-ass expectations for all of you.

“Oh but Sarah, you can’t expect that out of me?!  It’s to harrrd!”

Bite me.  You’re talking to a Single-Mom (not-even-child-support. Nada from the Dad.) who has been suffering with “Moderate to Severe” active Crohns Disease for 6 (5 diagnosed) years.  I went from working 2 restaurant/bar gigs AND odd jobs to an office job all the while trying *not* to die or live in the hospital.  Throw in some domestic abuse, a failed marriage, and sprinkle some good old anxiety and depression on top.  If I can do it, you can do it.

My life isn’t easy, and it’s not the hardest out there, but if I can live up to my expectations of what a person should be, how they should act, then so can you.

It’s not even that my expectations are phenomenal or anything, I always thought they were run-of-the-mill.  Yet, time and time again I am informed that I expect too much.

Too much?  Maybe.

I expect you to not be an asshole.  No seriously.  Just stop being an asshole to everyone.  How about instead of copping an attitude at everyone who looks your way, you can try to say something nice to them or *gasp* try and help another human being with something.

I expect you to be polite and have manners.  (Half of you just choked.)  (Good.)  I am one of the first people to laugh at or crack a horrible blow-job joke.  I am.  However, I hold the door for people coming out after me.  If someone drops something, I try and pick it up for them.  If I bump into someone, I apologize.  Christ people, it’s not that hard.  You walk past someone you smile and say “Hey” or do that stupid head nod thing that people do.  Oh and two words.  ”Please” and fucking “Thank you” <- I especially expect children to say it. (I had two little girls, aged 4, in my office today while their mom was with my co-worker.  They said Please and Thank You for every single crayon I gave them, they even said it to *each other* as they fought over who got to draw with the purple-sparkle pen.  If two little girls can say it, so can grown ass people.)

Work.  If you’re over the legal age to work, I expect you to work.  I don’t care what the hell you do, I don’t.  I just expect you to do it, do it well and not be fucking lazy.  I get it, people have lazy days, most days I decided I’d rather go back to bed before I even leave my bed.  That doesn’t excuse you from doing your damned job.  I’ve also done the dead-end job thing.  I know that if you work hard sometimes it just doesn’t get you anywhere.  My examples:  Jiffy Lube, all 3 greek restaurants I worked at, Elder-care (promotion wise), most retail, the majority of sales (small ticket items), etc.  You know why you should work hard?  Just in case.  Just in case you might get a chance at a different position or a promotion.  Because you should work to *earn* your money, not mooch it.  Also you have to work with other people, so this resorts back to “not being an asshole”.  Don’t make your co-workers days hell.  Work.  It’s called “work-ethic” and you should have it, more importantly we should instill it in our children.

I expect you to be educated.  I’m not talking about college, I’m not even talking about high school.  I expect you to know what’s going on around you in the world, to care what’s happening to other people.  I expect you to have an opinion, even if it differs from mine.  I expect you to pay attention to something beyond the new trinket you just bought.  There is important stuff going on in our world right now, I don’t expect you to be aware of everything, or know every minute detail, because I sure don’t… but I expect a decent attempt.  I want people to have a brain of their own, not to be a mindless sheep.  Why?  Stupid people piss me off.  So don’t be stupid.  Borrow a book, read a newspaper.  You know, Yahoo! has news and Google isn’t just there to look up porn.  Use your brain.

 

I’m not saying you have to be perfect.  I’m not.  I’m far fucking from it.  Sometimes I smoke too much, sometimes I snap at people through out the day because I’m cranky.  Sometimes while you’re talking I imagine strangling you so you stop rambling on about your new manicure.  I have lazy days and I have “Do I really have to put on pants??” days. But I try to be a good person, I try to be nice and courteous, I try to do my job to the best of my ability and I try to be aware and active in the world around me.  That’s all I’m asking of other people, just do it.  I’m a pessimist a million and one days out of a million and two.  I am an optimist when it comes to other people.  If you fuck-heads take that away from me, imagine how miserable I am going to make the world around me. (ha)

 

At least try not to be an asshole.  That’s a start.

Living with Crohns Disease – Intestines for Sale

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I think one of the biggest things I hate about living with Crohns is the future.  When you have a chronic illness, sometimes it can flare up, for no fucking reason and kick your ass (figuratively and literally).  I hate not-knowing.  Especially lately.  When I was in a full-flare, not-knowing wasn’t bad.  The only thing I couldn’t predict was feeling better.  So when I had a random day, out of the norm, it was fabulous.  Now though, I’m practically in remission.  The normal symptoms of my disease are practically non-existent, except for the fistula.

Yes, I still have it.  It connects a loop of my intestine to my bladder and it makes for  a bad day.  I was planning on surgery but a multitude of things made the decision for me to put it off.  (And unfortunately followers, this decision is not up for debate.)  So basically as the decision goes, I am trying to stay as healthy as possible for as long as possible until I have to have surgery.  It’s a horrible plan, but at that point in time it was either choose to have the surgery and fuck everything else up, or put it off so life is more stable for a major surgery.

Anyway, on with my rambling.  So for the past few days, after months of being symptom free, I haven’t been feeling too well.  Fistula symptoms, upset stomach, diarrhea and nausea.  I’ve been taking it easy, sticking to teas and easy to digest foods instead of my coffee and grease.  Doesn’t seem to be too much change, but I’m still wary.  Having had two obstructions in the past, anytime symptoms mimic the early signs of obstruction I get worried.  So I’m taking it easy and hoping for the best yet still preparing for the dash to the hospital just in case.

Sometimes Crohns Disease seems to suck the life right out of me and not in the way you’d think.  On my bad days, I still strive to do everything I normally would do as well as things I want to do.  It’s the mental aspect that is different.  It turns my normally hectic mind into something more anxious and scary, almost more chaotic and full of worry.  I don’t want to end up sick, I hate being in the hospital, but at the same time, I long for all of this to be over with.

Normalcy.  It’s something I strive to have, but Crohns Disease messes it up.