I absolutely hate moving

Hate it.

If it wasn’t for the fact that there are sooooo many positives coming out of this move I would do nothing but complain. I hate packing. I hate moving and I especially hate it because everyone keeps telling me what I can’t do. Don’t push myself. Slow down. Take breaks. Don’t pick that up. Stop bending over. My mother is driving me crazy. Telling me how I should just wait a couple more weeks to move and continue healing from my surgery. Boo! I just want it over with already. Things are finally moving, fast but I’m ok with that.

If I haven’t mentioned it already, I quit-claimed my house to my EX. The house is still financed in both of our names so, it just made more sense than selling in this market. Plus, it puts him in a more stable, consistent enviroment that the kids are already familiar with. And since we’re moving less than 3 miles away, it will be so much easier to co-parent with him. I hope anyways. I just know we all need to heal and move forward and that’s what I’m trying to do. Best foot forward.

Did I also mention that my daughter has pneumonia??? I don’t know how 5  year olds get these things but, she’s got it and it I just feel so bad for her. She looks and sounds horrible. But, she’s much better today than yesterday.

Ok….blog over….back to boxes. I took my ordered 5 min break.

Finally – some good news.

For months now…actually since right after we returned from our honeymoon, Jer has been in the pursuit of buying us a new house.  Obviously, a lot has happened in our national economy that has made this a great and horrible time to buy. When I get the chance to go into more details, and there are a lot of them, I will explain EVERYTHING we’ve been through in the last 6 months, but the bottom line is that yesterday


Looks like we’ll be closing next week and moving next weekend.

Baby on the Brain

My whole life growing up the only thing I ever wanted to be was a wife and mother. Maybe its because my Mom was so good at it and I greatly admired her, I have no idea. But when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I would say “A Mom.”

When I was 19 years old, I met my first husband. He was a single father. He wasn’t the greatest guy TO ME, but I loved to watch him with his son. His son’s mother was really nothing more than an egg donor. Now, there used to be a time when I held this against her. I hated her for abandoning him and just could not wrap my brain around the concept of not knowing where my child was or even if they were still alive.  I realize now that she simply, genuinely lacked the capacity to be a mother. But, never the less, there was a child with no mother and me, who wanted nothing more than to be one. I stepped in and filled the shoes. I adopted him and have treated him like my own ever since.  Not too long after I realized I was going to a permanent fixture in his life, I also found out that I more than likely had this endometriosis condition that COULD render me infertile. This was the diagnosis I couldn’t even fathom. Thinking that my first husband and I wanted the same things, I didn’t TRY to become pregnant, but I wasn’t preventing it either. And so I got pregnant, twice within 3 years. So, now I have two boys (12 and 8) and a little princess who is 5 years old. I love my kids. LOVE THEM. Nothing genuinely makes me happier than being able to take care of them and marvel at the people they are becoming. I loved being a stay at home Mom. It was the happiest I had ever been…..until, the bottom started to drop out of marriage. Then it wasn’t fun. Everything I did at home was criticized and when your whole life revolves around your family and your family falls apart….it really fells the walls around you are crumbling in…like life is ending….and in a way it did.

I have never been one to sit around and wait for things to happen, so I did what any mother who was facing single motherhoodoom would do. I enrolled back in college, pulled myself up by my bootstraps, got a job and haven’t looked back. In the midst of all this, I also met my current husband, a most amazing, generous man…my hero….and he’s stepped in as a role model to my children without hesitation. My life had truly been blessed. I am now 4 months away from graduating with my Bachelors in Legal Studies and I have a very good position at a law firm as a paralegal in which I am pretty successful. But, now at this point (and I’ve had a whole week off recovering from surgery to think about this) where I’ve done what I’ve needed to do, but I’m not so sure I’m doing what I want to do.

I’m just going to say it: I think I want to have another baby. Really, I want nothing more than to have a child with my husband. I want to make a home and be with my children. Sure, I like my job, I like helping people, it makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something, but NOTHING makes me feel more accomplished than knowing I’m doing everything I can for my family. And now, after having this surgery and knowing it would be the best thing for me to do (having a baby forces your body to “clean everything out”) medically I’m just thinking about it more and more and more. It’s just very heavy on my heart. I actually didn’t even realize how bad I wanted to have a baby until a couple weeks ago when I was having lunch with my friend and she brought it up and I cried.

What is wrong with me? Is there anything wrong with me? Is it crazy for me to drop my independent career woman thing that I’ve got going, after obtaining my Bachelors degree for domestic bliss? Or is life really about just following your heart???

Surgery Stir Crazy

At the end of December I ended up in the emergency room for this excrutiating pain in my right side which I was sure was my appendix, but they did a CT scan and found a rather large cyst on my damn LEFT ovary again. When I followed up with my OB/GYN he wasn’t completely convinced that it was a cyst because as he said, it was on the large side. Lovely. Something new to worry about it.

So I had laprascopic surgery Monday to go in and find out what was going on in my girly parts.

I am happy to report that it was in fact a cyst which had to be drained.

UNFORTUNATELY they also found an extensive amount of endometriosis throughout my reproductive system and attaching to other areas nearby. So that all had to be removed. All in all, that should help a lot. BUT in the meantime, I’m exhausted. I stayed home Monday and Tuesday, went to work yesterday for 6 hours and decided I was gonna come home before I passed out. I came home, slept, ate, and slept again. Got up this morning got the kids ready, slept, went to the doctor for follow up and slept. He’s written me off work til next Monday now. Told me my body has a lot of healing to do and I can either let it or it will rebel.

I’m trying, but, .mania makes me not so good at this idle reclining crap.  It’s bringing me down a little bit.

Rivalring bitch

Friday afternoon I got a text from Matilda. Some of you will remember Matilda (she’s the one that showed up drunk to my son’s birthday one year or who stopped by my blog one day when I wrote about the problems with my oldest son to tell me how I just need to deal with it and I am plagued with “made up diseases”) It’s a love hate relationship. I love her, she hates everyone.

Basically, she’s someone whom I used to consider a friend. Someone who I care about immensely but find it is a waste to invest anything emotionally with. If, I had the slightest hint that it mattered to her, I might feel bad about saying what I’m saying, but the truth is….she’s said enough about me when I least expected it for me to really care anymore. Real truth be told, I care about her daughter like I would a niece of my own. I adore her and I care enough about her to occasionally expose myself to her mother’s toxic personality at the hopes of keeping up with her.

About two weeks ago, Matilda called me and asked me if she could interview me for a thing she has to do for school about someone in a profession in which she has an interest in. I agreed only because I convinced her to meet me on my lunch break and I knew 1. there was a set time limit on my lunch and 2. she would be sober. As I’m getting ready to leave, Jen more or less invites herself along to lunch with me which I was sure was going to make the experience with Matilda alot more interesting. Matilda has a way of hating everyone new that she meets and not being so secretive about it.

Lunch went well. Matilda was on her best behavior. Conversation turned at one point to her drinking habits and how much better she was doing and then on to how her brother would playing out Friday night in a battle of the bands. She invited me to go and I said I’d talk to Jer. I had decided I wasn’t going to go unless I could get another friend to go with me because IF Matilda ended up drinking the way she used to, I didn’t want to have wasted an entire night out on the town with “grown ups”.

Friday night arrives and Jody from work and her husband are up for a battle of the bands so we agree to meet there. I walk in and see Matilda’s brother and sister at the bar, sober,  and walk up and greet them. I ask about Matilda and her sister points her out across the room. I sneak up behind her and grab her butt and the second she turned around I knew I was in trouble.

First, she looked at me with half opened eyes and turned back around and then she turned back around for a double take, eyes wide open, latches on to me screaming in my ear that she’s sooooo happy I’m there. She reeks. She almost topples both of us over onto the speaker system behind. The next twenty minutes involves her introducing me to people as her “professional friend, Stephanie, who is way better than me” and fumbling through conversations that I cannot follow sober, but which the other drunk patrons don’t seem to be able to follow either. I leave her with her “friends” and make my way over to Jody and her husband.

I step out on the patio with Jody for a smoke and here comes Matilda stumbling through the door. She walks right up to Jody and starts in on her. Asking her if she has a banana clip in her hair – this is meant to be an insult, making up some bizarre story about her children trying to stir her from a druken slumber for work, which she tells us is a joke, that apparently we both didn’t get. Then she, thankfully, turns her attention to two much younger, cutesy girls nearby. A girl named Kristina in an orange dress and orange heels and Jen who was about to have her skills checked in smart ass remarks.

This is the actual conversation, verbatum…

Matilda: Stephanie, this is Kristina with a “K” because she spells it the friendly way and Jen. (she introduced them backwards by the way)

Jen: Hello, nice to meet you

Me: Oh, I’m sure this isn’t going to be as nice as you might think it is.

Matilda: So Kristina (actually Jen) is here because she has a friend in a lame band.

Jen: Oh, you’re assuming. Do you know what happens when you assume?

Matilda: Oh, you think you’re going to tell ME something. You think you know something? You think because someone BLACK told you a little catch assume phrase that you know something? I know black people.

Me: What does the assume breakdown have to do with being black? I know black people I don’t think one of them has ever said the assume thing that Jen is about to say.

Matilda: Kristina

Jen: Jen, actually.

Matilda: No, tell me child, what does it mean when I assume?

Jen: It makes an ass out of you, not me.

Matilda: Bitch, I am a rivalaring bitch. Do you know how to spell rivalaring?

Jen: Thats why I’m going to college.

Matilda: You’re going to college to learn how to spell rivalaring? That’s a waste of fuckin money. Don’t use words you can’t spell, sugah.

Jen: I didn’t use it.

Matilda: What?

Jen: I didn’t use that word, you did, but I can spell it.

Me: Okie dokie. This has been fun. Kristina, Jen, it was very nice meeting you and good luck in college, ladies.

Kristina either really didn’t say  much or I might have blocked it out after the third time she used the word “stellar”. I don’t like that word. Nothing personal.

With Jody and I back inside, we ducked into a back booth with our Hubbies and go into stealth mode. Looking at each other with wide eyes. Me issuing lots of apologies and waiting in stunned silence. Then Kristina and Jen come back in. I can’t hear what they are saying from across the room but I can tell by their acted out druken mannerisms and how much they resemble Matilda that they are recanting the patio story.

No sooner do they finish their story, does Matilda stumble in past them walking across the whole room in front of the stage, oblivious to the fact that her pants have slid down past her nonexistent hips revealing the majority of her arse. The whole place is pointing and cackling. Matilda had become “that drunk lady”.

It was absolutely horrible. I walked over to hug Matilda goodbye and made an awkward attempt at trying to pull up her pants which she was thankfully oblivious to. We didn’t stay very long after that. The whole way home I told Jer about the first time I met Matilda and how I had always been enthralled by her “intelligence” and “brutal honesty” and in the middle of that conversation I realized that being loud and opinionated doesn’t make you smart and in fact, as it turns out Matilda is quite ignorant. It was just so striking to me that Matilda used to be the kinda girl that everyone seemed to move out of the way for….

but I guess they still do.