Looking for that Spirit

Lost: Christmas Spirit. If found, please return.

My family always had traditions; predictable traditions. Christmas Eve was the same, as was Christmas Day. Routine.
It's human nature to need routine.

Christmas Eve was all about family. It was often the second time of the year we truly came together as one. Everything was centered around family and food. There would be homemade peanut brittle, freshly made needhams, and a glass jar of peanuts that swiveled in the most intricate way that she placed ever so gently in the center of that long coffee table.
Dinner was always made with incredible love. Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Memere didn't want to cook or spend time in the kitchen away from the ones she loved most. She added her extras, the things she could really perfect with the most love.

Santa would always visit. There would be presents. The video camera capturing it all and heating up that living room with its giant light to a temperature so hot you were oblivious to the fact that not only was it December in Maine but the door was also propped open.

There was laughter, food, Santa, and even presents. Being a child, of course the gifts were important, they are to every kid but a lot of those memories are gone. The memories of Christmas that are the most vivid now are the ones that matter the most: family, food, laughter and love.

My family has drifted, grown, divorced and remarried and the only thing I look forward to most is taking down the tree on Christmas Day as soon as my son walks out the door to go celebrate Christmas with his father. Now don't get me wrong, I do enjoy seeing him open his gifts and that pure excitement on his face when he gets that "hot ticket" item he had asked for.

Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, will be strictly laughter, love, food and family. A family of two.


Look out spirit... I'm coming for you!





Introducing


Our new puppy, River! We adopted this sweet little boy from our local animal shelter recently and I'm thinking the saying is true, they actually rescue you. He has been such a joy and so much fun!

On a side note: having this puppy has opened my eyes to a whole different world that is around me. Apparently I didn't have much to say in June but it's now July so look out... because I have shit to say!

extra, extra!! Read all about it!


...on facebook.

There are no phone calls, visits... heck even text messaging has taken a back seat.

I'm guilty of this, but lately this "post it on facebook first" phenomenon is taking over the world. I'm finding that I would rather just keep most things to myself.

I used to have this fear that I'd find out a family member had died by reading it in the newspaper first, now I'm finding it likely that it will be plastered all over facebook before someone decides maybe a phone call or a visit would be more appropriate.

in reality

Recently I read a pretty moving article and the man's therapist gave him some homework, some words he was to say to himself every morning, it went a little something like this:
“Today I am going on a long commute that I hate to go to a job that I hate to work for a boss that I hate and be surrounded by coworkers I hate. Then I will drive home to hang out with friends I outgrew ten years ago. I will continue to live in an area I hate and I will not face any of my fears today.”
 Reading just those words alone struck me and I actually began to tear up. Not just because I live those words every single day, but I happen to be reading that on my phone as I was walking in to work. What were the chances?

The subject (drug addiction) didn't hit home, but a lot of the content did and since then I really have been thinking non-stop about everything around me.

Then I thought back, dug a little deeper and decided it's time to get shit done.

Because in all reality... I drive a short commute that I hate, to a job that I hate, to work for a boss who doesn't respect me, and be surrounded by coworkers I hate. Then I will drive home to be in an apartment I hate, next to neighbors I do not trust. I do not see my friends anymore and when I do, I don't feel like I know who they are. I will continue to live in an area I now hate and I will not face any of my fears today or ever step outside of my comfort zone.

share the road


I get it. Really, I do. I will be the first person to raise my hand, jump up and down, or beg to hop on the back of somebody's (that I trust) motorcycle.
I understand the thrill, the rush, the freedom of driving on that open road even if I have never driven one myself, but I have been a passenger since before dirt was discovered.Ok, maybe not that long but you get it!

When I am in my vehicle I give bikers their space. I respect them. I know how it feels to be on a bike and have some jackass waytooclose.

Today was a different story.
If you are going to be on a bike and ride my ass because you are pissed off I am doing a little over the speed limit YET you ignore the fact that I have a minivan in front of me and a HUGE tractor trailer truck in front of said mini van and decide to pass ALL THREE of us, I am not going to have much sympathy for you when your ass ends up smeared all over the road. Your family? Absolutely!
I mean come on really! You couldn't see far enough ahead to pass one car, never mind three and truly be safe.

Be smart.

Bikers are constantly pissing and moaning about "share the road", "other drivers never look for us", "they ride on our ass"... but if you are going to do moronic bullshit like pass three vehicles, drive 117 mph, and/or tailgate cars, then you're on your own. I'll start sending memos out to local paramedics informing them that they should start carrying shovels this summer, it seems they're going to need them.

on with it

I couldn't have asked for a better week off from work. This school vacation truly was one of the best for Boy Child and I. We celebrated his birthday with two of his closest friends, we did lots of beach combing, visiting family, eating ice cream and I was even able to spend time with an old high school friend and her children. All in all... I'd say it was definitely a HUGE success. 

On to the crap... tomorrow is Monday. I go back to work. Boy Child goes back to school. The depression sets back in. Fun times.

I wish I could be one of those people who magically has job prospects and opportunities land in their lap. 
Yes! Wouldn't that be grand?! Because reading... "We have completed the interviewing and hiring process and have filled the position with a candidate we felt best matched our opening."  is a giant kick in the head and preferably, one I'd rather not experience any more.   

super what

Friday the 13th normally brings people all kinds of bad luck. That is if you are superstitious. I try not to think of it that way. I just roll with the punches and move on with the day like it is any other. I think.
Today the 14th, I find myself looking back on the day to see just how bad it was. Overall, I think this Friday the 13th bullshit is just that, bullshit. (I may have just jinxed myself for many years to come with that statement)

Let's look back: my brother called and asked me to go visit next week. I just saw him Saturday and Sunday. Everything about this visit is VERY exciting. It's school vacation so this works out perfectly!

I was in a local grocery store, not the big box kind, the small one where the owners work there and everyone knows your name.
I was in said store, trying to go down an aisle and a woman, her child and their grocery cart were very much in the way. I was trying to get by... "excuse me?" (I am rather polite, believe it or not) and nobody was moving, so as I tried to sneak by my purse hit a bottle of wine and CRASH! alllll over the floor, all over my feet, it was quite a mess!
I know what you're thinking... this isn't good luck! It's bad! No, no... you see, everyone rushed over to help me and we all had a good laugh. I joked about how it's not everyday your feet get bathed in red wine.
Once the butcher, who saw this whole thing go down, realized 'who I was' came rushing over to me while I was cashing out and asked, "how did (insert Boy Child's father's name) end up with someone so pretty as you?"
My head got so big, I almost didn't make it out the door.

The day ended with going to bed knowing I don't have to set an alarm until April 23rd. Boy Child and I are officially on vacation!

waiting

I'm (im)patiently waiting in a stuffy waiting room for Boy Child. I hate waiting.
Even more so when it's hot, humid and rank!
As I sit here in complete silence there is a young girl who is chewing gum. No, scratch that... chomping, salivating and drooling excessively. It's repulsive.
If I have to sit here another minute and listen to this, I cannot be held responsible for punching her in the head.
Oh great! She's talking to me! She wants to know... "is that a Galaxy S?"
Seriously!? Chew your gum and shut up! Leave my phone out of this.

where the heart is

I went home to visit family this holiday weekend and of course Boy Child was dragged along willingly.
Since we don't get to visit very often, due to distance, we make the most of our visit; as every family should.

Boy Child had a great time hanging with his oldest cousin, at one time they were seen just sitting on the porch together. Not talking... just being.
It's moments like that that make my heart hurt. We don't get them enough.
I can't forget to mention the drive home from dinner last night singing along to 80s music with my brother.

On the way home tonight Boy Child said absolutely nothing for almost two hours.
Ya know... that makes for a long ride!
I finally asked him if he was alright and he told me he didn't want to leave.

Right before being tucked in tonight he tells me his stomach hurts and he has a headache.

I feel that exact same way when I get back from my visits home. I truly believe my son is home sick for a place he has never known as home.

Only I know where home is.

meet them where

It's official, I'm 32.
Boy Child is almost 11.
...and I'm single. Not married. Not dating. Alone and to sum it up in a nutshell, lonely.
There I said it.

On the flip side, I'm so damn independent having a guy around drives me bat shit crazy! I will intentionally look for reasons or off the wall flaws that will have me sending them packing so I can be alone.
Yea, whatever.
Anyways...

They (whoever they are) have said you'll find him when you least expect it or you'll meet him at the most random places AKA the grocery store.
Well let me tell you about the grocery store!
They, the single, available male species are not there!
I generally go after work. I work teacher's hours, obviously. Generally the male species will still be working. Ya know, holding down a J O B! Very important these days.
If a male species is there, I'm betting they're already old and married and the crazy wife is sick of making household grocery decisions for them so she's given up that chore. Time to get your own sandwich fixings gentleman!
Or they possibly work an overnight shift and well, no thanks. I'd like to see the person I'm "dating" for more than two minutes on opposite sides of the road.

At 32 meeting someone at the grocery store is worse than picking up a fella at a bar.

not what but who

You know the saying: "it's not what you know, it's who you know"

Right now I wish I knew some people, even just one person in a higher up position who could work some magic, pull some strings... do something because this day to day is getting a bit ridiculous!

I'm a little old to be pulled in to the principal's office. I did my two years of middle school and four years of high school already and those sucked too.

Yes my dear coworkers, I'm moving on... going past it but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

I'm dreaming of something big dammit!

no shame

I have been battling a horrible, horrible sinus infection lately. Horrible doesn't even begin to describe it actually; it's more like slasher movie horrifying. Totally disgusting. Traumatizing.

I was home from work for several days when I first came down with "The Infection" because, well... I was truly dying.
Once I returned to work I had a few coworkers who were very sympathetic and concerned, most of them just curious and incredibly nosy about my whereabouts. I kept it basic with a few coworkers but as with any work place, they all talk and eventually I didn't have to say "Boo!" they all knew the story.

I walked in to a classroom one morning and had small talk with one particular coworker about "The Infection" and she immediately had something to say. It went a little something like this: "I hope you're eating yogurt! That antibiotic will give you awful yeast infections!"

Wow! Let's take a look at this for a second. Yes, I am aware that the antibiotic I am currently taking for "The Infection" is very powerful and has quite the variety of nasty side affects but... you basically just told me, YOU get awful yeast infections from this particular medicine.
Come on!! That is just horrible! There are some things you just don't tell people, especially people you really do not have a "relationship" with.
I see you at work. I do not converse with you about what I made for dinner last night, what I plan on making next or what I want for my birthday next week (carrot cake with cream cheese frosting). I do not ask about your weekend, you don't tell me about your pet Fido or when your mother is coming to visit.
I'm 30something years old, keep your "down there" issues to yourself or I'll start telling you about mine.
Starting with... I'm 30ish and single. Need I really say more?

there's an app for that

Hold the friggin' phone! No, seriously... hold it!

Just now I decided to cruise the app store on this here smartphone I have to see if there was something for "blogger", ya know, in case something struck me funny and I had to post it rightthisverysecond because itcouldnotwait!
Well, wouldn't you know... there is!

You used to be able to blog via email but it was kind of a pain in the ass and it always looked funny... this little app thing is ahhhmaaazing!

I'm still not sure how I feel, the whole we're so connected to technology thing. If I don't have instant access to my laptop, my phone is (almost) always in my hand.

Oh who am I kidding... I'm the one who searched the app store at 9:30pm from my bed while fighting a benedryl induced sleep coma.

they will never respect you

Let me start by saying this: I am no expert. I can hardly believe it myself really, but it's true.
I don't want comments later telling me I am completely off my rocker and have no idea what I'm talking about- you can save those, I don't want to hear 'em.

I can pretty much guarantee Boy Child will be in some sort of therapy while he is an adult because I did something, wait no... many things wrong throughout his childhood that have left him completely messed up. As for right now, he is incredibly smart, polite, honest, sincere and so very caring for a boy of his age and honestly, this generation. I'm not messing around with this parenting business, I'm getting shit done.

So with that being said, I of course have shit to say. I took Boy Child out to dinner tonight and while we were conversing (yea, we talk like that) a woman comes in with her young daughter and is seated at the booth behind us.

Now let me tell you I have a horrible issue of eaves dropping in on other people's conversations. There have been times when I couldn't tell you what was being said at my table, but I could tell you what the conversation was about five tables away. It's a problem. Sometimes.

So back to mom and little girl... As I'm listening to this woman talk to the girl I begin to cringe. She is doing that ever famous sing- songy, baby talk voice. I could feel the hair stand up on the back of my neck. She was sitting next to her child on the same side of the booth because, "it was easier to contain her". She asked the server for paper and crayons to keep her busy. (that is understandable at times)
The little girl continued to fidget and the mom continued to talk in the sing- songy voice. Never once did she tell her what needed to be done... she just asked.
Really folks? Since when did it become acceptable to ask your children if it was alright for them to do what was expected of them?

I can tell you right now this mom is going to have her hands full; I've seen it.
I have always said I will not be friends with my child. Once he is grown and has children of his own, then our relationship will change, until then I am his mother/mom.
I speak to/with him like a person. I tell him what is expected of him and he has it pretty much figured out. I am very open and honest with him about many things. I want my child to be able to come to me without hesitation, ever. Yet still, I am not his friend and that has been made clear.
Of course we still have fun, do many fun activities, laugh and joke around but like I've been told, "I run a tight ship".

I am not going to have my child walk all over me. He will not tell me what is or is not the plan. Of course I offer him choices; many, many choices actually, but he knows he is the child, I am the grown up.

I grew up with a Dad who ran a tight ship and a mother who was very wishy-washy and I have to say, my Dad received the respect.

That little girl had it right when she called her mom the babysitter towards the end of dinner, because she really was more of a babysitter. You're supposed to walk all over those people, not your parents.

going public

Did I really just do that? I made a Facebook page for this blog.
Say what!?!
Yes, really.
I don't quite know what my intentions are yet, but if I plan on connecting the two, hot damn! I better plan on writing more. Wait... will people even read this crap? In reality, is it all that interesting?  Then again, the human population pays insane amounts of money every month towards their cable/satellite bills to watch made up shows about people's mundane lives, yet my shit is real yo!

I am still on the fence about this whole do I reveal myself, do I not? It's kind of a pain in the ass. I mean, really... com'on. I have shit to say and people might be offended... I don't want to wake up tomorrow morning and see the tires on my little CUV slashed because I "hurt someone's feelings". I do live in a small town ya' know.

Here goes nothin'.

eating me up

In all reality I am not one to really say what I think. If something is bothering me, I'll let it eat at me for days and then just let it go; I never address it. I used to think I never had a problem with just spouting off at the mouth what I thought or was thinking but when I dig deep down in my memory, that really isn't true. Things ate at me for a long time and maybe that's why I just hate people; I was always afraid to hurt them.

Since I've been home incredibly sick all week, I've been pondering crazy amounts of shit... in between all my sweet naps of course.

There are people I don't even know anymore. They have changed so much. It's almost like, "Wow! Who the hell are you?"
There are others I would have been able to completely trust, now if I had big enough balls, I would just come out and tell them, "you can't be trusted, relied on and you're definitely not dependable".
What a horrible thing knowing that those are not qualities in someone that played a strong role in your life.

When confronted, I make excuses because I don't want to hurt other people's feelings but that is completely dishonest in itself. I'm just straight up looking the person in the face and lying. Yikes! The extent we go to spare people's feelings is absolutely ridiculous. What we do to spare our own feelings is absurd. We internalize, internalize, internalize!

Stress kills man! My winter is proof. I have never been so sick in my life. This insanity has to stop.

I'm moving to some small crazy ass tropical island, finding myself a hot cabana boy and starting over!

The Fairy is Coming

Boy Child woke up this morning and came rushing in to my room to inform me that he, in fact, did have a loose tooth! Now mind you, this tooth wasn't loose yesterday, he just woke up and BAM! it was loose.

If you know anything about Boy Child's history with loose teeth, you know it is always incredibly traumatizing by the time the tooth is removed from his head. The Tooth Fairy gave him $10 for his first tooth because the ordeal was so painful and was just that, an ordeal.

Now, this sweet child spent his day wiggling and twisting this tooth with his tongue. The clicking it made was enough to drive anybody mad! I asked him if I could look at it, he yelled "No!"  the last time I did that I just yanked it out... WOAH! wasn't he pissed!
He would often leave the living room for lengthy periods at a time, returning to inform me that, "nope, it's still loose!"

He managed to eat a meatball sub for dinner and keep that nasty tooth intact; I don't know how he did it, but finally at some point he looks over at me and the look on his face just said it all! That crazy kid wiggled that tooth right out with his tongue!

He has his tooth all put away in an envelope (our ritual) for the Tooth Fairy tonight, he doesn't seem all that crazy about it like he has in the past and I'm beginning to sweat this a little bit.
Yes! I am very well aware that this child is only a month away from turning 11 and he still believes in the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny and Santa Clause.

If he figures out there isn't a Tooth Fairy then that fluffy Easter Bunny won't be making its super secret appearance next month.
How will I ever get a chance to eat the ears off those delicious chocolate bunnies that are left for him?

step, flash, step, flash

Remember when the kids were little and it was so cute to put those flashy light up shoes on them? You know the ones that once they took a step all those crazy colors would twinkle, sparkle and shine throughout their sole? The kind that could send pretty much anyone in to an epileptic seizure?
Ohh! Now you're following me... Yes! Those shoes!

The other day Boy Child and I were leaving his school when we saw this little teeny tiny girl in her cute leggings, jean skirt and of course, her light up shoes. I giggled to the Boy Child about how cute the shoes were.
I then decided to touch on the subject... you know, to see if I'm going to be paying for a therapy session about friggin' shoes!

It went a little something like this... "I never bought you shoes like that. You know the ones that light up. Are you mad?"
"Really Mom? I think they're kinda dumb."

Oh good! I told him I wanted to make sure he wasn't going to grow up hating me for not buying him light up shoes.

He thought for a second then said... "but maybe for the crocs."

just paying attention

I took the Boy Child to a hockey game tonight (our team won!) and we were sitting in an awkward arrangement, but nonetheless the seats were pretty decent. I'm not complaining!

Although... I am going to complain about the woman that was in the section over who apparently thought she shouldn't stand for something like... oh say, The National Anthem.
Bitch.

The Homie G sitting next to me that decided he should leave his trash behind. I don't mean trash, I mean the dump. That guy packed away some serious food tonight. Yes, I'm judging.

... and to the man on the other side of the aisle, the one not wearing the wedding ring. Call me!

I saw you looking.

grammar police

It all started with: "I want to write and get paid for it. I have a lot of shit to say!"

I posted that on Facebook a few nights ago and comments came in ranging from "write a book, I'll read it!" to "blog".
Well, I used to blog, quite often, and I really do miss it. I miss writing and the feeling it left me with when I finished a piece, but it was almost becoming like work. Work I wasn't getting paid for.
I know right!!

You see, it would take me all day, I literally mean all damn day to write a blog post. Nothing pisses me off more than misspelled words, writing pieces that do not flow properly, or just overall, shit writing. I, myself, want better than that.
When you read someone's writing, you don't want to have to reread it to try and figure out what they are trying to convey to you or you're left wondering, did you really just spell that word that way?

Yesterday was the great Dr. Seuss' birthday and my Facebook status said something about it, and my dumb ass spelled "Seuss" wrong. That shit ate me up all day! I couldn't fix it and I am so glad nobody called me out on it!

I'll fix your spelling/grammar mistakes, but don't go fixin' mine!