The issue of trust

“We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy” Walter Anderson

The concept of trust and having trust in another person has been on my mind lately. Not that I'm anywhere remotely near being in a relationship, but thoughts from my past and thinking about relationships in general have been on my mind.

I have a secret - I love to visit wedding planning websites. Love. It's my guilty pleasure. The thought of me actually getting married again makes me want to hurl, but I like the vicarious thrill of seeing a wedding from inception to fulfillment. The happy faces. The pretty flowers. The fancy clothes. The pageantry of it all.

Seeing brides excited (and often stressed) about their impending nuptials also makes me wonder ... when you prepare to marry someone, you have so much trust in that other person. Trust that they'll show up, trust that they'll be by your side, trust that your marriage will survive the long haul. Part of me really wants to know -- how many of these brides will still be married five years from now? Will that newlywedded trust still remain?

The cornerstone of relationships is trust - you trust that your partner will be by your side, you trust that they'll be faithful to you. However, once that trust has been broken and the relationship severed, how easy is it for anyone, and is it more of a challenge for single parents?

If you realize that your previous concepts of trust were moot, how do you go on re-establishing trust in any future relationships?

What I want to know is, how do we ever let our guards down? How do we risk getting trust broken again?

So, what is it that I really want?

Thinking about how rough times are these days, and how I'm always striving to move forward, what exactly am I attempting to move towards?

As I've mentioned numerous times, at work we go out to celebrate the birthdays of our teammates, and all chip in to buy the celebrant's lunch, usually adding up to $20 a pop. We have 2 of those occasions coming up and you can probably guess how much I'm internally griping about it.

It seems like I'm the only one on our team who is really hurting for money. I'm the only single parent, and pretty much everyone else has someone who has their back, per se.

Ok, enough of the complaining, what is it that is holding me back? Yes, I can say that it's this or that bill, this or that event, this or that unexpected expense, but why can't I let myself have a financial buffer? Why do I allow my self to suffer?

I don't know why. Somewhere, deep inside of me, behind some closed doors, I don't think I really deserve it. Guilt lies hand in hand with success.

...

Tuesday afternoons are Bozo's day to watch the baby. It's in our divorce agreement and plus, that's a day we need someone to watch the baby, since exMIL works on Tuesday afternoons. When I went to pick up baby at Bozo's, his mom had come home for lunch and was entertaining the baby. Bozo was sleeping.

Part of me wanted to say something, but I also had a moment of insight and maturity ... FORGET BOZO! He has nothing to do with how I see myself anymore. I can't anymore blame him for my lack of success, lack of financial security, lack of a nice home.

It's on me now.

Blessings today

My early morning ritual at work is to check my email, check the blogs on my Google Reader for what's new and interesting, read the news, check Twitter/Facebook, and also my bank balance.

This morning my balance was -$4.

Could have been prevented, but whatever. I was moaning and griping and whining and complaining for a bit, but what's done is done. That is a risk I run, and I'm not even going to bother fighting the extra $35 my bank is going to park on top of it, because I should have planned a little better for the last week.

It was on my mind for a bit, and then I received a BabyCenter.com email I get once a week about toddler development. Because I love to procrastinate, I started clicking some links and arrived at a "Toddler Angel" forum. And boy, did my heart start to hurt.

Losing a child is possibly the worst hurt I can imagine anyone feeling, the most devestating loss. But, it happens. Beautiful, vibrant children, gone and often completely unexpected.

I might not have 2 pennies to rub together, but I have a little boy at home who is healthy (knock on wood), happy, funny, loving, quirky, and smart. This might sound incredibly cheesy, but even though I'm not financially wealthy, there is so much love an happiness about him that makes me the richest woman in the world.

Thinking about my dream and talking to a few people, I have an interpretation ... the tornado ... I was standing outside, watching it happen. There is turmoil around me, but I chose to remove myself from the situation. The banquet? There is famine after the feast.

Just a thought.

Strange Dream

Last night I had quite the strange dream. I was in a World Market with a coworker where four people inside were sitting down & smoking. I wasn't in the mood to buy anything, and when I noticed security going towards the smokers, I was in a hurry to leave. After we left, the inside of the store was struck by tornado and the store was completely destroyed. Gone.

The next dream involved lots of food. I was at my exMIL's house, but it was much bigger than her actual house, and there was a buffet going on ... a potluck, with all her Greek relatives. Lots of food. I was still shaken up from the tornado dream, but ate a lot of food.

Any ideas what my mind is trying to tell me?

Either I'm taking a sleep break, or I'm sleepwalking

It's 2 am and I'm here typing away on what I'm terming a "sleep break".



You see, I conked out at 9:30 pm with the little guy, who falls alseep on my bed every night and sometimes does or doesn't make it over to his crib. It was one of those exhausting days, and I needed the sleep, which is in high contrast to my former self who usually falls asleep after the midnight hour.

I was talking to a coworker who is in her early 30s like me, no kids, and she told me that she and her fiancee fall asleep at 9 pm every night. 9 pm?!?! Every night?!?! Damn. What I want to know is : 1. How do they get ANYTHING done, and 2. I can't even imagine!


While I envy that amount of sleep, that just seems like an impossible luxury I'll never have. Perhaps I'm subconsiously doing what my mom used to do, which is stay up to all hours, because thats what my subconscious thinks moms do? Also, and more practically, there are times I don't even make it home for the evening before 8 pm, so getting basic stuff DONE does take up a lot of time.

On an another note, when I came to work yesterday (Monday) morning, I arrived to find balloons on my cubicle and on the cubicles/in the offices of all of my coworkers. Our team won 5 awards, one award being THE industry award, and our company's CEO snuck in over the weekend to surprise us.


It WAS quite a surprise for me, because usually I'm left out of those celebrations with my job function, which is more on the "back office" side of things. I work with a lot of writers, and they're the ones getting the kudos, so it felt SO SO SO great to walk in and see a balloon just for me.

As in life, little acknowledgment goes a LONG WAY!

Too great not to share!

Your handwriting. Turned into a font. FOR FREE!

AWESOMENESS!

Operation Happy: Success

Did I jet of to China overnight?

To some fabulous European villa?

To Tokyo?

Nope, I only took a hop, skip, a jump, and a 45 minute car drive to the the site of my infamous prior anniversary celebration with Bozo. It was utterly fabulous. Bozo really should have let us stay a little longer, because there were things we didn't see that were not to be missed. Like the Chinese and Japanese gardens. They did a fabulous job and I really felt like I was elsewhere, not in California at all!

Before we got on our way, we made a brief pit stop to the park, where I thought baby could get out some energy and therefore take a good nap on the hour or so over to our destination. I was right, but he only napped about 30 minutes! Needless to say, he was GRUMPY for a good hour or so into our little visit. Ay. Yi. Yi. I had to bribe with cookies, and was very glad I'd remembered to bring extra baby wipes.

This is the moment when the grumpiness subsided. My little nature lover was in his element, and this was a display they encouraged kids to touch. We had to tear him away. Literally. Grumpiness came back, but only until we took him to the children's garden ....

You don't want to know how this ended up. His shoes are STILL soaking wet. I am SO glad I had the forethought to pack some spare clothes. I need to get him a pair of Crocs for occasions such as these, as ugly as I think they are!


Boy, talking to duck. He was deep in conversation with a Mallard.


There was one weird incident, though. Bad weird. While baby was busy transferring dirt from the ground to the water fountains in the children's garden, a middle-aged man went behind a nearby wall and was peeking out behind him. Uh, there is NO reason for that to be happening. I keep a hawk eye on baby at ALL times, but the thought of something happening in a brief moment when my attention could have been distracted makes me sick to my stomach. There are some sick people in this world, and we do not need to be victims to them! On the way out, I saw the man with his own wife and child, and then at home, noticed he was in the frame of a couple of my photos. Which I'm keeping. In case.

Here's to good times!

Never forget ...

There is ALWAYS a light at the end of the tunnel.

Lesson learned from a garage sale

Saturday was a ginormous community-wide garage sale in my parent's 'hood, the one day of the year the master association allows the genteel folks of Orange County to display their used wares for sale.

My family doesn't usually leave stuff out to sell, plus their court doesn't really get all that into it, so although I brought stuff to sell, I thought I'd better keep it for exMIL's annual garage sale, where I am guaranteed customers right away. The last time I did it, when I was pregnant, I got rid of TONS and TONS and TONS of stuff from a previous incarnation of myself and made enough money to buy a camcorder, which was extremely awesome. This year I'm planning on adding to the fancy camera equipment fund!

Back to my parent's hood -- last year was a roaring success for them in terms of buys. My mom got an excellent crib, unused mattress, and toys for $5 total. One of my sisters scored a neighbor's amazing artwork for $5. There are always great finds in store in this area. People come from all around with trucks to haul away furniture. Fun times.

This year, my mom and I left our wallets at home, loaded the baby in the car, and took a look-see drive around. We asked for prices, took closer looks at the wares, then stumbled across a home that had a microsuede chair and children's items in their yard with a "free" sign. Instant score!

We rearranged the stroller to the front and drove off with a ziplock full of sesame street stamps for baby and my brand new chair with one minor spot on it, because if it's free, it's for me!

The chair actually matches my sofa and other furniture perfectly and looks amazing in front of my desk. However, there is one little problem. It is not meant to be a desk chair! It's missing a supportive bottom and is horribly uncomfortable when you're sitting in it for really long periods of time.

See? Looks great! You can also see the industrial strength carpet my cheapie landlords installed, but that's another story.

I'm back to sitting in my old chair, but I am going to hold on to the free one for a future purpose ... as in a budoir chair or who knows. I have to pile it on top of crap, but it's my new baby. Not gonna let it go!

Turning sad memories into happy ones

Tomorrow, two good friends (a married couple) have invited us to a picnic at a beautiful garden near our home. The grounds are incredibly beautiful, have been used in many movies, and I've always wanted to visit.

Actually, I HAVE been there before, but only briefly. For my 3rd wedding anniversary, I begged Bozo to take me there. I was hugely pregnant, it was acutally the 2nd anniversary we spent together (since he was off flitting about overseas on our 2nd one), and I just wanted to have a happy memory for that time in our lives, pre-baby.

PLEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I begged Bozo for hours, even cried, and the crying is what won him over. He didn't want to go, didn't see what the big deal was, but after hours of wearing him down, he finally agreed to come with me to the gardens and even go to tea at their teahouse.

I don't mean to dwell on my marriage and what is in the past, but there are certain things/places/songs/shows that bring back sad memories from years past. It's getting better, but every once in a while I'll see or hear something associated with a bad time, and immediately turn it off, look the other way, talk myself out of it.

Well, we got there, it was hot as only the san fernando valley can get hot, and Bozo was in a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad mood the entire time. Even these great desserts in the tea house didn't cheer him up -- he only complained about the bill and wondered why HE had to pay for it AND the admission.

We ended up leaving as soon as lunch was over ...

We only saw a couple of places, had a stranger take a very bad picture of us, and I agreed to leave when Bozo started making a fuss, promising to take me again. The straw that broke the camels back (mine and his) was when we passed a woman speaking Hebrew to her young son, prompting Bozo to go into a 2 hour lecture as to why I wouldn't be passing along a language other than English to our son, thus making me less of a mother than women who could do it. He also made us stop by a Starbucks on the way back so he pulled out language homework for me to do.

Just writing that made my stomach churn and feel all kinds of frustrated all over again, but I needed to get that out. Tomorrow will be redemption day, and all the sad memories will be wiped out in place of more joyous ones, made in good company with people I care about and who truly care about me and baby, likewise.

Another single mama blogger used to have this quote from Juno on her blog, and I appreciated it even more when I finally saw the movie last week:

Look, in my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with.

Yay for good friends with memberships to cool places that come with guest passes.

P.S.

Bozo has one very amazing quality. He was exceedingly beyond nice to the mentally-challenged woman in my prior post.

On the occassions when we would see her together, he would always greet her with a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and some kind words.

He does have SOME redeeming qualities. Not many, but he does have his moments.

Dreams, fulfilled

I can't stop thinking about the person I referred to in yesterday's post ... the mentally challenged 30 year-old sister of Bozo's best friend, whose blog I was made privy to recently.

Sometimes I wish I were a Vulcan, to be able to live an emotionless life, rather than the highly sensitive life I do have. It's a blessing, and a curse. For reals.

Reading through her blog, there is a lot of pain in her writing. Pain that I can understand. It's almost as if she's a permanent adolescent, and the hurt that she received in high school still remains and is still fresh in her mind.

On the few occassions that I've seen this woman, she is always wearing no less than 20 barettes in her hair. It's strange, and before she passed away, her mother was always telling her to wear one nice barette rather than the multitudes she fancies. In one of her blog posts, she wrote about how in school, people would constantly tease her and call her a lesbian because she used to wear her brother's hand-me-downs and had short hair. She wears her hair like this because she doesn't want people to accuse her of being a lesbian.

Utterly heartbreaking. Beyond heartbreaking.

Well, since she doesn't have anyone to help her out, and I don't think the few family members who also are on her facebook read her blog, I realized that being the sensitive person I am, I have to somehow step in and help.

Now, one thing I know is that even if I am to do something, it may very well go unnoticed, and in her mental state, she might not actually realize what has been done. But, someone has to do something. As a fellow dreamer, I can't stand by and watch someones dreams go unfulfilled.

There are five things that she wants, five motifs that run clear through her writing. She wants:

1. A normal friend
2. A job in retail
3. To go to community college and take classes
4. To have a boyfriend
5. To be a writer.

Here are my preliminary thoughts on what can be done:

1. Normal friend -- depends on your definition of "normal", but I think there are resources/groups she can take advantage of, free services that are provided. She might not know they exisit, and neither might her family. I'm going to do some research and send it to her sister-in-law.

2. I don't think I can help here. Honestly, I think her best bet is to volunteer somewhere, not sure where. Maybe a library?

3. Not sure I can help here, either.

4. Can't even help myself in this category.

5. I think I have an answer, and this is where I'm best able to help. She has posted some stories on her blog. Her writing style is very elementary, but she does have a solid story line going throughout. She really just wants to be a writer, so one thing I thought to do was to edit the story somehow, bind it, and send it to her as a book, and do this anonymously. I'm thinking that maybe if she sees a book with her writing with her name on it, maybe she'll feel like her dreams of being a writer are fulfilled?

I don't know ... I really don't, maybe this will be a hugely massive FAIL, but I can't tuck this situation in the back of my mind. Can't.

Signed, sealed, delivered

“F- THAT MOTHERF-ING ASS-. TELL HIM HE CAN F- HIS F-ING SELF AND GET OVER THAT F-ING PIECE OF SH-!!!!!!!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”

It was a kid’s birthday party, and yet this was all I could hear at the nearby park that I’ve been complaining about recently. Yes, while kids attending the party and other neighborhood kids were milling all about, people at the kid’s party were drunk and spouting off like this. It was 3 pm. Saturday.

And so, my love affair with that little park is officially over.

It’s great on the weekdays, because there aren’t such drunkards about, but the weekends are a different story. During the course of our park visit, the baby brought me an empty Capri-sun juice box, some plastic soda bottles, a few used forks, a piece of birthday cake, and a couple of cigarette butts, too. Deal sealed.

Luckily for us, there is a MUCH nicer park nearby, and although it’s a 15 -20 minute ride away, I think its worth it, especially since it has a duck pond and a very new and very clean toddler playground. Baby thinks so, too.

Dreams, deferred

You know how we all focus on acheiving our dreams? We reach for the stars, dare to think outside the box, and make those thoughts reality.

What if there is someone you know who also has dreams, but the reality of them acheiving their dreams, is beyond extremely slim? In fact, the chance of them doing and being what they most want in life is zero, and that's just how it is?

There's someone I am acquainted with via Bozo, and she added me as a friend on her facebook. I don't know much about her, except (and this is going to sound awful) but I try to avoid her on the rare when I'm around her. I looked at her profile and looked at a few of her myspace blog posts she linked to her facebook. All it did was break my heart.

If anyone is a practicer of the laws of attraction, it's her, and yet ... and yet ....

It's something I can't wrap my head around. A blip in the system. What are you supposed to think about that kind of situation?

Irrational fear

For a large chunk of my life I've had an irrational fear of losing all my possessions in a house fire. This fear goes way back to when I was in kindergarten and couldn't deal with leaving my caterpillar in a shoebox behind during a fire drill. I got in trouble for being late for the line to leave, but I couldn't picture not having him (or her) with me.

Through the years, I've done various weird things to prevent any posession of mine becoming a victim to a fire ... hiding spaces, carrying a crazy amount of stuff with me in my purse ... the thought of losing x, y, or z is always with me.

Just a few minutes ago, I was packing for my mom's house and wondering what I wouldn't want to leave just in case.

Not sure why I do this. It's a little on the psychotic side, I admit.

Do you have any irrational fears?

Note to self: apply for emergency credit card

When I went through my big, big, big life change and debt reduction 2 1/2 years ago, I did something drastic and major, which was to shut down all of my credit cards, including my Visa.

It had a balance of over $5,000 on it, was months overdue, and my only solution to deal with it was to work out a payment plan with the bank. I knew being credit card-less was risky, but I had to do it and I'm glad I did, because I have a tendency to abuse credit cards. Not sure why, but if it's there ... I'll find some kind of excuse to spend money that doesn't really exist.

In retrospect, I shouldn't have shut down ALL of my cards, because it does ding your credit if you do, and it's taken me a while to build up my FICO score again.

For the past few years, I've been fairly lucky -- paying for big items with cash as I receive it, working out payment plans, and if necessary, using exMIL or my mom's credit card, which I always pay back.

Well, today I'm taking my car in to the shop for it's major repairs, and in order to get a rental, I need to put down a deposit on a credit card. The only person who is able to accompany me and who has a credit card is ... you guessed it, Bozo.

Yes, Bozo is saving the day. And it's not without a price, aka, cutesy text messages and such. Ugh.

Today, after I have the rental car and all the dust is settled, I'm applying for a credit card, which will be frozen in a ziplock bag in my freezer, for emergencies such as this. I won't look at the number, I'll just stick in in the freezer.

Life lessons from American Idol

As a busy single mom with a very active toddler, I don't watch a whole lot of tv. When I do have a few moments to myself, I'll usually watch something I've netflixed, something on netflix.com, or dvd tv sets I've accumulated over the years. Consequently, I'm really not that up-to-date on all the popular culture goings on lately.

While I've been rolling my eyes at certain coworkers who are having an American Idol pool, I've been hearing one name over and over and over again - Adam Lambert, Adam Lambert, Adam Lambert.

Tonight was kind of a wooly one chez Anonmom ... baby was exhausted, and yet refused to admit he needed to go to sleep until 10 pm. He amused himself by bringing me his socks and one shoe for me to put on, climbing on every single piece of furniture, and indulging in his newest trick, which is to open all the drapes, pull the blinds open, and stare outside and put crayons in the window jam. He is so highly amused by this. I'm really not, fyi.

Feeling productive, I utilized my baby free time - after he finally went to sleep - to print out some recipes and photography info, order photo prints from costco.com, edit some photos on picnik.com [btw, I think I'm going to spring for the premium version], and you tube some Adam Lambert clips so I could finally see what the hubub was all about.

I settle on a reel of his past work, and somewhere around the 4 minute mark, a performance comes up that I realize I've seen in person. It was his performance as Joshua in the play The Ten Commandments, which starred Val Kilmer as Moses (for reals!).

Back when me and Bozo had just started dating and I was overlooking all his bad qualities and he was doing things to impress me, he bought me tickets to the show, knowing how much I love musical theater.

And I do, to the extent that one of my two sisters recently said to me, "Anonmom, you trained us to be the perfect gay man."

When Adam's solo came up, I sat there in my nosebleed seat with my jaw dropped to the ground for the duration. His voice is simply incredible, really. I really don't know how he could hit all those notes and keep that kind of pace with a theatrical schedule. He put his heart, soul, and major muscles into his performance, and the entire audience was electrified. No joke.

How come this guy isn't famous already, I wondered? This guy is GOING somewhere, for sure, I thought. After the show. the cast stuck around to answer questions and for a meet and greet. Bozo thought I would want to meet red-faced Val Kilmer, but I had to meet Adam and tell him how great I thought he was. I had to wait, as he was talking to an old friend of his, but I got my chance to talk to him, and kept that in the back of my mind.

Looking up his info on imdb and wikipedia, he's been performing steadily since, and now, five years later, everyone knows his name. Simon Cowell even gave him a standing ovation. He's made it.

Lesson? Sometimes you really do have to wait for your big break. It DOES come around, though, with work and persistence and dedication.

Things that inspire me, part 2

Strong Enough
Sheryl Crow

God, I feel like hell tonight
Tears of rage I cannot fight (should be lie)
I'd be the last to help you understand
Are you strong enough to be my man?

Nothing's true and nothing's right
So let me be alone tonight
Cause you can't change the way I am
Are you strong enough to be my man?

Lie to me
I promise I'll believe
Lie to me
But please don't leave

I have a face I cannot show
I make the rules up as I go
Just try and love me if you can
Are you strong enough to be my man?

When I've shown you that I just don't care
When I'm throwing punches in the air
When I'm broken down and I can't stand
Would you be MAN ENOUGH to be my man?

Lie to me
I promise I'll believe
Lie to me
But please don't leave

The son of a single mom

Shaheen Jafargholi on Britain's Got Talent ... simply adorable and so talented.

How we got to this point

When I was pregnant with baby, still married to Bozo and not even believing that one day I would be a single mom, or even a blogger, a coworker turned me on to two pregnancy blogs on glamour.com. One written by a cancer survivor, and one written by a single mother-to-be.

Seeing that I had a lot in common with both of those blogs, I started follow them religiously. All three of us had baby boys within days of each other, and in the exhausting and emotional days of baby's early life, they were a great source of comfort for me during those crazy times.

Months later, I was still with Bozo, exhuasted, emotional, and fed-up when I sat down and opened a blogger acount, something my two online bloggers inspired me to do. Writing would be good for me, I thought, I need a way to get things off my shoulders, find comfort in expressing in word things that no one around me is willing to hear.

The very next day, I became a single mother, and I've never looked back.

The months went by, I moved on, became a lot less emotional, moved on with life, baby turned one, the divorce became final, and Chrissy Coppa posted an interview with another single mother, Alaina, who's story I immediatly connected with. Our stories had so much in common ... same quick marriage, same unexpected (but welcome) pregnancy, same difficult ex, and I was drawn to start posting comments on her blog, sharing my experiences with her and all the other single parents who were also posting on her site, as well as blogging.

Discovering Alaina's site was like opening a treasure box ... it was so unbelievable that there really ARE people in the world who understand my struggles, understand my fears, know my joys as well as my tears. LOTS of people. I am not alone, by far.

I have dozens of single parent blogs on my Google reader, and they are what I look forward to in my day, to know that in this world, I have compatriots, and we're all in this single parenting thing together, getting through the rough times and experiencing the wild joys of our children's lives, one step at at time.

Yesterday, a neighbor and friend came to the door to give me a book I'd asked her to pick up for me at Borders, where she works. She announced that it was a gift to me, and that she's leaving LA. Going to the east coast to live with her father, declare bankruptcy, and make a new strart.
While I'm so sad to see my neighbor, friend, and would-have-been roomate in a bigger apartment, I couldn't thank her enough for the gift. The book means so much to me.

It's Christine Coppa's book, Rattled, and I am so excited to start digging into it. She'll actually be at a signing 5 minutes away from work, but the day is one of my commute days, so I don't think I can actually make it that day. It's all thanks to her, though, that I'm in this single parent blogging journal, and for that I can't thank her nearly enough.

I don't have any kind of beverage near by, but here's a toast to all of us single parents, and also to all of us who are on a journey to our higher selves. We're getting there, one realization at a time.

Now that you know my back story, tell me more about yours. What compelled you to blog your life experiences?

Because change is good ...

... I finally got around to changing my template. Spring cleaning, I call it. Most definitely time for a little something new.

Things that inspire me, part 1

A child's sense of wonder and amazement at the little things in our world ....

If Martha could see me now (she would laugh)

Little known fact about me – about 7 years ago, I was a small business owner.

When I was going through my quarter-life crisis in my mid-20s, right before I made the move to Los Angeles and was working for ABC radio, I realized that I loved making beaded jewelry.

At the time, I was living with my parents, living the life of a cloistered nun. Going out on the weekends was out of question, so I comforted myself and passed the time by locking myself in my room, and immersed myself in my beads while watching a lot of old James Bond movies. P.S. Yes, Sean Connery WAS the best Bond. It’s a highly meditative art, and I got a lot of thinking done while busy with twisting, stacking, and threading.

I did sell some pieces, not much, took small business classes, met with a consultant, but compared to what we can do today with digital cameras and etsy.com it was all very amateur! I used to take photos with a disposable Kodak and then scan the prints at Kinkos. Looking down at my fancy schmancy current camera, it's all very funny now.

It’s honestly a huge surprise to me whenever people who bought my jewelry tell me they STILL wear their pieces and get complimented all the time. I see stuff other people do and feel like my work was so elementary compared to them, which is the big reason I stopped in the first place. Low self-esteem is a MO FO! Self-doubt has plagued me for years.

There was one good thing about all of the efforts, which is that I met a great friend though one of the classes; a gal who was working at HP at the time, and decided that she wanted to open a spirituality store, which blossomed into her current career, which is working as an empowerment coach. It's amazing to see how far she's come and nice to have a kindred spirit like her in my life.


For a while after moving to Los Angeles, I kept up with my beadwork, and then I met Bozo, which resulted in all my desires being swept under the rug. He thought my hobbies should all be related to learning languages, and so I put all of my interests to the wayside. Silly anonmom.



The beads stayed with me for a long while, and when I was pregnant and ready to rid myself of the boxes of beads from my past, I sold them all to a teacher via craigslist. It's not something I regret, because the beads went to a good home, and I'm sure they were greatly appreciated. I still have a few things left, but that’ s a part of my life I’m not ready to revisit just yet. Maybe one day I’ll be ready, but not just yet.

A few months ago, I started looking at certain online message boards in my spare time and saw people post the most amazing DIY projects and my yearning for crafting started up again. Slowly, with the help of the sale section at The Paper Source, 40% and 50% off coupons from Michael’s and JoAnn’s, I’ve been building up some craft supplies in things I find tremendously interesting. This time, I’m not doing it for money, I’m doing it for my own enjoyment and so far, so great.

Yesterday I made an envelope, and envelope liner, a piece of embossed stationery, and sent it to baby’s great-grandparents. It was a massive fail if I ever saw one, but at the end I had something resembling stationery with a crooked, half glazed owl on it. I'm sure if Martha Stewart saw it, she would laugh at my uncoordinated self, but I had a good time, that's all I know. I also can't imagine how some people make their own wedding invitations and such. That crap takes a lot of time!



My next project is a bit ambitious ... I really want to re-upholster my kitchen table chairs, which as you can see in the pic below. What you can't see is how unbelievably dirty the seats are ... covered with months of graham cracker residue, crayon marks, and baby barf that won't come off.

When I originally bought the set, I BEGGED Bozo to please cover them in clear vinyl, but did he listed to all my nagging? Of course not. Well, I think I can do it on my own. I have a great brown damask fabric and need to get the clear vinyl, and I have a plan. It's going to be amazing. I mean it!



Here's the scene of my crime:

Do you get jealous?

Of your married friends, or friends in good relationships?

I'd like to say no, but the truth is, I often do. Being human, I guess it's only natural to feel that way, and there are certain people I find myself constantly fighting jealous feelings with.

For instance, they'll just give a silly complain about their husband or partner, and my first reaction is ... at least you HAVE someone by your side who is at least a little bit supportive!!!! Or, they'll say an accomplishment about their child that mine hasn't reached yet.

Jealousy is my first reaction, and then I slowly talk my way down from it, reminding myself that everyone has their own path in their lives, and hey, my kid does some pretty special things, too.

So, jealousy ... nature or nurture?

Two and half weeks!

That's how long my car will be in the shop.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Clown makeup

There's a long-term temp in my office who uses her morning breaks to put on her makeup in the bathroom at work.

As a former makeup artist, it doesn't bug me so much that she uses her fingers to put on her eyeshadow and then walks around looking like a clown the rest of the day, it's the fact that she's putting her makeup on under the bathroom's flourescent lights, which make everyone look a zillion times worse than reality.

I am thinking of staging an intervention. Soon. I understand this might be her mental morning break, but the clown makeup is driving me bozonkers. You can take the gal away from the makeup counter, but you can't take the makeup artist out of the gal.

Motivation

There is nothing like a health scare to get you motivated to take better care of yourself. Not me, thank goodness, but Bozo's step-father and baby's most beloved grandparent.

exFIL is diabetic, doesn't exercise at all, has poor eating habits, such as eating twinkies and ho hos, and his blood pressure and blood sugar levels have gone through the roof.

His solution to all of this? The doctor is prescribing him more pills. He is still eating twinkies and ho hos, and is still planted firmly on his couch after work, and complaining that the pills are making his vision blurry and tiring him.

The thing is ... he's not that old, only 68, and yet he's not making any changes. It's scary, it's not looking good unless he makes a huge lifestyle change, and that is a must.

Considering how much I've been whining about my weight issues and how much I want to get back to my prepregnancy self, I've been making far too many excuses for not making the changes. It has to start from the very basics ... even if I'm not getting as much exercise as I'd like, my eating habits have to drastically change, and I have to bid adieu to the carbs that have snuck into my diet. Just, bye. For good. Nice knowing you mac n' cheese, but you're no good for me. Even though you taste magnificent, our love affair has to end.

I don't want to be reliant on pills to extend my life, that's for darned sure!

Things I love to do with my son

It is a gorgeous day here in So Cal. The sun is blaring, the air is clear, and the roads are filled with people happy to enjoy this great Sunday.

The baby is with his dad right now, on his regularly scheduled every other Sunday visitation, and I've taken the free time to relax and recuperate from Friday's car accident. Me + diet dr. pepper + 99 cent store 4/$1 Cadbury Creme Eggs = good times.

Taking this time to rest reminds me of all the things I love to do with my son. This morning before I dropped him off I took him to our most favorite park and watched him chase after ducks, climb things I still can't believe he climbed (BOYS!), and run around for a while.

Given that I work full time and am on the road a big chunk of the time, I cherish these times and count park visits amongst my favorite things in life. Even when the park is covered with discarded juice boxes and plastic forks and paper plates and cigarette butts, like the one we went to yesterday. Bleah!

He's growing ... so much, and right before my eyes. I still see the traces of baby in his face, but there's little bits of boy coming through, and whadya know, he has his first facial mole, right on his chin.

Besides parks, I love taking walks with him, reading to him, and watching Elmo with him. I have to thank Sesame Street because he's learned a lot from watching his dvds, including how to say "si" and "no", or "yes" and "no" in Spanish.

My mom and a friend said something similar to me last week -- maybe the disaster of my marriage to Bozo was for a higher purpose ... for this beautiful little boy. I have to agree. He is amazing.

The subject of intimacy

Another single parent blogger brought up the topic of intimacy and marriage and I'm glad she did. She has a way with words and a way of expressing herself that I greatly admire.

Although I am little shy about discussing that part of my life, I have to admit that the lack of intimacy in my marriage with Bozo was a huge part of my unhappiness with him and our relationship. It wasn't just the lack of intimacy, it was his refusal to discuss it or even take into consideration my feelings about the whole thing.

After our marriage, it was like a switch went off - the, "I don't have to put out anymore" switch, and no one warned me about that! Once I heard him on the phone with a friend laughing about the friend's lack of intimacy, and Bozo said, "Well, I'm married, so you know how that goes."

Excuse me? Uh, no, and thanks so much for the advanced warning on that, Bozo. It was his completle insensitvity to my needs that did it in the end. His emotional and physical distance helped me make that final decision to end the marriage. I knew I'd rather be alone and perhaps not have a romantic partner for years to come rather than be completely unsatisfied.

Like other single parents have said, the topic of marriage scares me because if I do enter an intimate relationship again, I don't know if I could handle the "no intimacy" switch turning on after marriage, again.

In the end, my experience with Bozo is a good one, because I know now that it is OH so important to be with someone willing to fully discuss all parts of your relationship, from mundane household chores, to the more romantic and fun parts.

You know, I really can't wait to meet that man, but in the meanwhile, I'm having fun on my own.

When paradise is really hell

My parents live in a neighborhood in Orange County that is known for high prices, luxury, gorgeous views, and strong personalities.

When I got home from work yesterday, after the early morning car accident and doctor appointment and subsequent running around, the first thing my mom said to me was: "THAT NEW NEIGHBOR IS CRAZY!"

Not, how are you, how are you feeling, but an ensuing half hour long bitch-fest to me by both my mom and dad over their new neighbors antics. I know they care, but COME ON people. It's just that everyone here in this area really needs to get over themselves. Really. Parts of "Real Housewives of Orange County" are filmed here. Need I go on?

Last Saturday, baby was in a state. He had an earache, teething, was miserable and to soothe him I gave him tylenol (what a mess) and then for a drive around the area. It is really so beautiful in this area ... open streets, manicured lawns, non-ramshackle homes. Such a contrast to the neighborhood where my apartment is, which is a stones throw away from a topless bar. But, I like it there, for other reasons.

It seems like people who live in what looks like paradise are acutally living in hell. When I get home, I'm going to throw a kiss to the trailer park behind my apartment, because those neighbors are so much more tolerant than my parent's neighbors. For reals!

As for me, I am hurting today. REALLY hurting. However, I have strong pain meds, and once I'm home I know I'll feel a lot better, mainly because it's so much easier to take care of baby at my own home, which is small and contained.

Almost 10 years to the day

I had a feeling it was going to happen just moment before it did -- a fender-bender this morning, while on my commute from my mom's house to work.

Part of me is frustrated - what a DRAG to have to deal with all of this, even though I am not at fault. My back aches in a previously injured area, my bumper will need to be replaced, but otherwise I'm ok, the other people involved are ok, and that is what really matters. Trust me, I know.

Ten years ago, almost to the date, I was involved in a major car accident, broke a few bones and spent months in rehab. Almost to the date ... creepy coincidence. The original accident was definitely one of the defining moments of my life and I'm still plagued by paranoia from the event every now and then.

What a heckuva way to celebrate an anniversary! The thing is, I had that sense of precognition for the last few days that an accident was going to happen - I've seen a few accidents on the road lately, and this morning I kept thinking about the words of a former coworker when she "knew" she was going to get into an accident.

Well, it's happened, and was bound to happen, given how much driving I do. My poor new car will be ok, it will be dealt with, and will be better than new in the end. When I got to work I treated myself to an iced mocha with whipped cream from Starbucks, and will take a day off from excersing.

Truth be told, what I really want is to be with my son right now! I need slobbery baby kisses! But, the iced mocha is helping soothe my feelings, somewhat, too.

One-way ticket out of Denial-ville, please!

If there's one thing that never ceases to amuse me, it's the writing of Michael K, the blogger for dlisted.com. He is absolutely hiarious -- your gay best friend that you love to talk smack with, so right on with all the stings and zings that go along with that title.

He wrote something about Octomom, my favorite person in the world (hah!) that tickled my fancy:

You've really got to slow clap for this crazy. Her mammoth mountain of delusion isn't crumbling anytime soon. Don't tell her that, though, because then she'll start selling hiking packages to her mountain of delusion.

After an evening disagreement with exMIL, that's pretty much exactly how I feel right now about her and her son. Both of them are so solidly stuck in denial, refusing to open their eyes to reality, preferring instead to live in a land of irresponsibility, distortion of the truth, not willing to own up to reality, and making me out to be the bad guy.

When I picked up the baby after a carb-laden company dinner at a small Italian restaurant (p.s. I hate carbs), I pressed exMIL for details of Bozo's impending move. Where is he going? What is he going to do? Can you just tell me what state he's moving to?

She refused to "get in the middle of it", saying it wasn't her place to tell me and it was between the two of us, but he knows I need help and he's doing this for me and the baby. Not really, I countered. That's his decision, not mine at all. I'm not married to him anymore, and the bottom line is that I need him to help me NOW and now 3 years or so, when he finally finishes his degree.

It just seems that all he's doing is escaping from his reality by going back to school - just keeps hiding from the truth, hiding from life, and making more excuses to add to the mountain of excuses.

During our discussion, I laid it out straight for exMIL - I was VERY realistic. And apparently I hurt her, because she told me I was mean. Look, I told her, I'm not saying this to be mean, I'm telling you that everything Bozo has promised for years has not come true, and I am not in the position to deal with any more excuses. HE IS PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF FINDING EMPLOYMENT NOW. DO YOU HEAR ME? I NEED HELP NOW, IT'S BEEN YEARS OF EMPTY PROMISES.

Aarrgh, this family. She countered with more denial on top of more denial, and at the end, I jus threw up my hands and left. I'm so over these crazies and just will keep on doing what I'm doing, which is not paying any attention to Bozo.

For next time, for my next relationship, I have a plan to end any kind of similar confusion: GET EVERYTHING ON PAPER!

Bye Bye Bozo - Breaking News

Well, this is breaking news ... Bozo's mom just called. Apparently, he's been accepted into a few Ph.D. programs in various states, and he will be leaving CA indefinitely in September. Time for him to get on his feet, she said, this is it, his last chance.

I'm not sure how I feel about it. On one hand, I kind of knew it was going to happen, since he's been talking about it forever, and on the other hand, it's like ... enough with the games already, Bozo! Get a freaking job!

ExMIL says she knows exactly how I feel, she knows what's going on, but Bozo has to do this. He'll still pay child support, except he just won't see the baby all that often. Maybe once every other month or so.

In general, I think it's just Bozo being Bozo ... doing his usual Bozo thing ... and maybe his absence will help us all out ... he won't pester me so often, he won't bother his step-dad, and maybe he'll finally, finally, finally get on his feet.

But I really don't think so.

Cuteness overload of the day, part 2

Apparently, baby is going through an "assistant" phase, because he wants in on pretty much everything I do. From makeup, to cooking, to sitting on my lap and placing his hand on mine to help me surf the internet, and now, to helping me go to the bathroom.

That's right. I now have a 19 month old bathroom assistant. He's always watched me using the bathroom, but now takes it upon himself to tear off some toilet paper for me (actually, I'm totally impressed by that part), flush the toilet, and then direct me to the sink so I can wash my hands afterward.

That's one smart cookie right there.

It's April 14th

Cranky, or what?

Last night at 2 am, I stumbled out of bed, mascara under my eyes, hair askew, feeling all kinds of cranky, mad, and chose to vent my feelings on twitter.


Tweet 1: crashed next to my toddler when he fell asleep at 10 pm. the thing about that ... never get anything done around the house anymore.


Tweet 2: plus, I look like a wreck mess right now ... smudged makeup, hair a disaster ...don't care. going back to bed. single mom reality right here


Geesh, I was not in a good mood AT ALL. The single parent version of a drunk tweet, but I wasn't drunk. Maybe I'll call it a disgruntled shout out to the world?

--

It's 2 plus hours later ... at work now. Right after I wrote that first part, my toilet overflowed. Great, I thought to myself, crap on top of crap! I'm thinking that's the universe getting the crazy part of the day over with early ... it can only get better from here! Yeah!

It became crystal clear to me yesterday that Bozo will be of NO help whatsoever when it comes to helping me out with baby's daycare costs. I didn't speak to him directly about it, but after a conversation with his step-sister yesterday - when she asked me if he was working because he's at his mom's home ALL the time - made me realize that asking him for help would be futile and would only make me angry and upset.

Not worth either of those two, so I'm just going to find a way to do it, like I have with everything in the past. It's going to be ok ... everything always works out, and always does. Always. I need to put my thinking cap on now.

In news of the cute, it seems as if I have the world's best assistant these days. My little guy has been watching me put on makeup in the mornings, and when he sees me getting my supplies out, he's been taking it up on himself to grab an eyeshadow brush, dip the brush into a closed eyeshadow container, and put the brush on my eyes. It is serious cuteness overload.

That cuteness counters the fact that his new favorite pastime is to grab the hair on the top of my head and pull HARD! If I say "ouch!' it only makes him want to pull harder, so I have to pry the hair out of his hands and say, "Nice! Nice! Be nice to mommy's hair!!!!"

Ah, kids!

From baby to boy

After all the Easter festivities had finished, I made it home with baby around 8:30 pm last night, right around his bed time.

Hey psyched me out and made it seem like he was ready to go to bed, but ended up staying awake until 11:30 pm, wreaking havoc the entire time. From surfing on my makeup case, to getting into the bedroom blinds, to halfway climbing up the bookcase, he did it. I blame the sugar.

Then, at 11:30 pm, when I was busy putting stuff in my crockpot in the kitchen, he decided he'd had enough and I found him in my bed, asleep. He must have been really tired, because usually he needs my help to get on up there. That was a first.

We cosleep most nights, mostly because I have a one bedroom apartment and when he cries out for me to get him in the middle of the night, it's easy to just pluck him out of the crib and put him in my bed. Kind of hard to sleep train him when we're in the same room.

Seeing him in my bed was bittersweet - there he was, snuggled up like a bug and looking like a big boy. He even put his blanket over himself. No more baby, he's a little boy now.

And I guess it's time for a big boy bed ... luckily, his crib is the type that converts to a bed, so it's a matter of me taking the time to reassemble it.

Sigh.

There goes my baby.

Well there goes that idea ...

Apparently, the whole concept of letting an advertiser wrap your car in ads didn't work out, and is rarely being done. Good idea, anyway.

Uno

FYI, if you didn't already know it, but the card game UNO is one of the greatest in the world. It's full of suspense, intrigue ... and if you've played it enough you know all the good tricks to acheiving a win.

It's been in my life since the tender age of four, when I started playing it at daycare and finangled my mom into buying us a deck for home. She wasn't always available to play with me, and as an only child, I soon learned to play a mean game against myself. I was a fierce competitor, cutting myself off left and right, throwing down reverses and draw fours to make the fake game just a little more exciting. Fun times, cheap source of amusement.

I haven't played UNO on my own for years now, but last night, in the midst of Easter-induced sugar shock, I had an idea ... you know how I'm always complaining about never going out and never having the invitation to do so? Why don't I put on of my dresses one night, fully accessoriesed, and then have a cocktail party at home for myself?

On one hand, that's a brilliant idea, but on the other hand ... I need to start looking into volunteering on my baby-free days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ha ha ha ....

I can't quit them just yet

It's 10 pm and I have a highly sugared-up child roaming about, "surfing" on my makeup case, otherwise causing havoc, and refusing to sleep. !!!!!

Considering the busy and active day we've had, I'm a little surprised he isn't in bed already, but that's kids for you ... give 'em some sweets, and they're up for hours and hours and hours. And more hours. And then some more. And so it goes with us, tonight, fresh off a holiday-related sweets fest. He's pulled out his blanket and shows signs of slowing down, so I have *some* home that I'll be able to get to bed early, myself, as I planned.

We did have a very busy, active, and fun day - went to a nearby beach-town for cupcakes, and although the cupcake store was closed for Easter, we found other treats and then headed for a toddler park people have been recommending. It was adorable, we had a lot of fun, and I had to drag my tired child who was 50% covered in sand away. Good times.

After a nap and some sightseeing, we headed over to ex-inlaws for dinner with a very small gathering of friends and had a great old time. Bozo didn't show up for a long while and then stayed in his room to play video games. A good thing.

The hard thing about my divorce, and a very unusual thing, too, is how much I enjoy their company. Exinlaws, plus their friends, are my friends, too. I just can't quit them, yet, even though I know eventually I'll have to. That's not going to be easy to do. At all.

As much as exMIL enables Bozo, as much as she encourages his irresponsibility, she's also a good friend to me, a loving and caring grandmother, and I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to totally cut the cord with her.

I'm just not ready to cross that bridge yet.

Awesomeness from another single mama

Mysinglemomlife put together an amazing post and put something in words better than I ever could:

Its not all about a man having to sacrifice who he is at the core of his manhood. In my opinion, it actually takes more of a man to do that, than it is to just sit there and take her for granted…and then ironically demand respect. Just because he’s a man doesn’t mean he’s automatically entitled. If he loves his wife (with his actions), she will respect him.

Yes, yes, YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A mom in need of a blog

There is a mom I know who is desperately in need of an outlet for her feelings and pent up emotions. Specifically, mine.

Today, Saturday, my busy pack up and move on home day, I decided to change things up a bit and asked my mom if she wanted to accompany baby and me to the next town over, a California mission town that has a cute downtown area and a petting zoo before I left for home.

It was just what we needed ... mom, me, and baby ... mom got out of the house for a few hours wihout my dad and sisters, I got a change of pace and scenery, and baby got to see trains, tractors, and horses. He was in HEAVEN, and it was adorable.

My mom used the opportunity to vent to me about her woes ... money, my dad driving her crazy, the neighbors driving her crazy, and the mess between her siblings over their inheritance. The same four topics she discusses all the time. In fact, she told me a few of the same exact stories the night before, word for word.

She's frustrated, and I can understand why, but at the same time, it's the most frustrating thing in the world for me because she hasn't moved past her basic anger and hurt over these subjects for YEARS.

Mom, I told her, what are you going to talk about when you finally receive your inheritance? She was at a loss for words. She needs a new hobby ... stat. I'm going to suggest she takes up writing. She needs it!!! I'll have to see if momofanonmom.blogspot.com is available.

The baby had his first easter egg hunt at my parent's house today. Growing up, we never celebrated the day, but always had an easter egg hunt and it was fun to do it with my son for the first time. He didn't really get the concept of placing the eggs in the basket, and instead horded them under his chin. It was adorable. There was some drama over me not letting him have tiny malt balls, but that's only because he has a sweet tooth that rivals mine. Silly baby!

Tomorrow we've been invited to a few ex-inlaws houses, but instead I'm taking him to a toddler park a few cities over and then treat ourselves to the best cupcakes in southern california ... I've conducted an intense taste test and can say this definitively. Trust me. :)

To all of you who celebrate easter, have a happy day!

Late night thoughts

- This afternoon, Good Friday, we were released from work a little early, and as I was driving to my apartment to drop some stuff off before heading to my mom's, I stopped by the park I often walk to during lunches. I took a great walk, it was about 20 minutes, and decided this is going to be a new ritual. Maybe take shorter lunches and then take a quick walk after work to get me in gear for the second shift at home. Why didn't I think of this sooner?

- After my walk, on the way home, I drove by a couple of cars that were wrapped in , advertisements -auto wraps, they call them. Now THAT'S an idea for you. I ain't too proud to drive around in an ad, especially if it would help pay for my child's day care. Started looking into it, apparently there are few openings, especially with the economy these days. However, I'm in the right frame of thinking.

- Stopped by a paper store this evening, had a brief artist's date a la The Artist's Way, persused the goods, looked at some nifty stationery, and left incredibly inspired. Yay!

For some Friday positivity ...

Seven steps to transforming your life, from The Rat Race blog. Enjoy!

Stepping up to the plate

Well, I did it, part one of my plan to talk to Bozo about baby's daycare needs. More specifically, getting the money baby needs for daycare.

That first step was talking to exMIL and letting her know what was going on. She became a bit upset and worried, even though I'm not and told her we really have no reason to be. Bozo is the father, I told her, and it's his time to step up to the plate.

But he has no money, she told me. But this is what he HAS to do, I responded. It's not a bad thing that baby has to start daycare, it was inevitable, and I informed her about my parent's difficulties, as well as the full extent of my financial burden, which is tremendous, it really and truly is.

She was left breathless with worry at the end of our conversation, but agreed that we'll have to start talking to Bozo about it. The main point of my conversation was this: I need Bozo to step up to the plate financially, I can't have a conversation with him without losing my cool, I need your help communicating this to him.

Her main worry was the fact that Bozo is pretty much penniless at this point. It's the central frustration of what was my marriage and that I haven't had to deal with or get angry about since we've been broken up. This is a fully capable man who refuses to work or take responsibility, instead relying on his mom and friends to cover his basics, and spending what little money he does have on frivolous pursuits, aka, that "movie".

At what point in your 36 year old son's life do you finally admit that he has to grow up? At what point do you stop dealing with his responsiblities?

I wish it wasn't my concern anymore, but unless I win the lottery .... On the bright side, I realized last night that my next door neighbor works for an agency that assists people with daycare. My income is above the level they work with, but I'm hoping she has some info for me on different resources I can take advantage of.

We're moving forward here, chez anonmom.

I'll take it as a sign

My dad pulled me aside for a little conversation tonight. Not a bad one - in his older age, he's become so much less confrontational than in my youth. People do change, I guess.

With a full plate of other responsibilities, watching the baby is becoming hard for my mom, and he thinks its time for me to look into daycare, so it's easier on everyone and the baby can socialize more. The same thing I've been thinking recently.

I told him I've been planning on talking to Bozo about it ... I guess the talk is going to have to happen a lot earlier, like maybe even tomorrow. Must start cramming and strategizing now. It's not going to be easy, but it's going to happen and all through it, I can't let Bozo's attitude get the best of me. Who knows, he might be easier to deal with than I'm anticipating, but I could be right and it will be a mental blood bath. Sounds dramatic? You don't know Bozo -- Peter Pan doesn't like discussing grown-up things and often resorts to mean childish tricks. Blah.

The sad thing is some other stuff my dad filled me in on -- my parents were hit VERY hard by the stock market decline. VERY. Like, I don't know how or why they haven't taken up heavy drinking because of it. They're stronger than I give them credit for, but I still don't think my mom should be blaming Obama because of it. Wrong president, mama.

Well, change has to happen, and it's happening. In all parts of my life. Hard to deal with, hard to conceptualize sometimes, but you roll with the punches. Here I go rolling along.

Born, or bred?

Reading this article about a nonverbal autistic man with down's syndrome who runs a profitable business, I can only look at my baby daddy and wonder what the heck went wrong? Like Thomas Edison said, most inventions are 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration ... this man must have gotten that perspiration out of his system a long, long time ago.

I've established that Tuesday is my favorite day of the week, and in a similar vein, I must declare that Wednesdays are my very least favorite. That's the evening I go to my mom's house and after more than a year of packing up once a week, I am beyond over it. Beyond.

There is a solution, though, and with that there's a daunting task at hand -- I need to sit down and have a very serious talk with Bozo about money and the baby's future daycare needs VERY soon. Right now, I am really trying to think out my strategy for this impending conversation.
Not an easy thing, consididering that this is a man who cannot take anything seriously, and I am a woman who cannot have a conversation with him that doesn't end with me stomping away in frustration.

Clearly, I need a middle man, and that person is exMIL, which is a bit of a challenge in and of itself, since she is a huge pushover when it comes to her son and his level of responsibility. It's gotta happen soon, though, since I've been talking around, asking questions, and around here you have to get on waiting lists for day cares asap, and the cost is guaranteed to be through the roof. My plan b? Start selling my plasma.

As for the crazy neighbor of my parents who yelled at me over parking in front of her house? Get this -- she hasn't even officially moved in yet!!!! The house is dark ... Orange County is full of crazies, it is really not even funny. My mom keeps mentioning how I should move there ... uh, not gonna happen!

What this whole hubub makes me realize is that no matter where you live, no matter what your income level, happiness is not a guarantee. My parents live in a wealthy area ... so much conflict. I live in a considerably less wealthy area (trailer park next door, remember?) and there is SO much unhappiness going on there. I don't want a small house, I don't want a large house, I want a medium-sized house, and non-crazy neighbors, to boot.

And, oh ... it's Thursday! Hooray, hooray! :)

The best day of the week

Tuesdays, by far, are my favorite day of the week. It's the one day out of seven that I feel semi in-control of, because it's like I get to experience the "normal" life of a parent and I'm not in traffic or running here and there.

On Tuesdays, exMIL works the afternoon shift and Bozo watches baby for the afternoon. It's the one day I get to come home at the normal time of 5:30 pm and not at my usual late o'clock. No distracting grandparents, just me and the little guy, and time is on our side. I enjoy every single second of it.

We eat dinner together, he watches something while I clean the dishes and prep if I'm cooking that night. Later, he takes a bath (aka, "splash splash"), we read books, and he goes to bed. I was lucky because last night I managed to stay up when he fell asleep and got a zillion things done. Not cleaning, which I am way overdue for, but I made this Pioneer Woman recipe, which turned out GREAT, but my house smells like curry now.

I've been wanting to make a moroccan chicken recipe for a while, so I also prepared some preserved lemons. It takes 3 weeks for them to be ready, but I can tell it's going to be worth it. Bonus side effect, the kosher salt and lemon juice I used for the recipe helped soothe the eczema on my hands!

Then, around 11 or so, when I was watching dishes, I was hit with a sore throat ... funny how that happens all of a sudden ... so I've inherited baby's sickness. Ugh! Glad I didn't clean out my purse like I meant to for a couple months, because the throat lozenges from the last illness are still in there! On the plus side, I kept the humidifier on all night, because I know now the proper way to use it, and my skin looks fabulous today. Woo hoo!

Going through my bedside table while putting baby to sleep, I picked up a book by the author of the Four Agreements that I bought right before I'd met Bozo, called The Mastery of Love. Lots of great insights, lots of good thoughts, lots of what I need to read right now.

Funny, but when I first bought it, I barely read 2 pages of it. I just didn't GET it at the time, and it didn't seem like the most valuable information for me. And now, a few years later, I'm all over it. In retrospect, I think I needed to have Bozo in my life, for the very reason of learning life lessons. Life is beautiful.

P.S. Look what I found on etsy this morning ...perfection! LOL ...

My name's not handy mommy

I am not the handiest of people around the house ... last week's realization that I put a tv stand together wrong proved it, and the unchanged burnt out light bulbs around the house are the icing on the cake.

Just realized I've been using baby's humidifier wrong his entire life.

Send help, I need it!

But, if you ARE a little more handy with a needle and thread, I found this simply awesome tutorial on making boy's shorts out of a dish towel!

Rough night

Baby is completely sick and miserable and this has extended to all hours of the day. All 24 of those hours. Including the night time ones.

Last night as I was falling asleep at late o'clock, he woke up with a series of high-pitched whines, cries, and moans that went on for a good couple of hours, even through one watching of his favorite Sesame Street DVD. That's how I knew he wasn't doing so good - even Sesame Street didn't cure what ailed him.

Two hours later, I was snoozing on the couch, had managed to keep pressing "play" on the sesame street dvd for who know how long, and baby was finally ready to go back to bed. Poor thing, he really was miserable, and that was still the truth this morning.

Parenting ... endurance challenge, I'm telling you.

The list goes on and on

- Sick baby who doesn't go to sleep until 10:45 pm
- Can't figure out how to configure new printer
- Tired as hell
- Too much stuff to do
- Beyond messy house
- Need to bake, take a shower, clean before bed time
- Bed time = ?
- 2 huge work deadlines before 10 am
- Had way, way, way too much sugar, just finished yet another sugar free ice cream bar (of 4 total, keeping it real here)

But on the bright side ... read a beautiful engagment story between a well-known wedding photog and her betrothed. See, there are men out there who care and are willing to go the distance!

For all my single mamas, and for every woman in general ...

Sing it with me! Celebrate our womanhood with Peggy Lee ... and because I can't figure out how to upload a video ... here's the link!

Taking the high road

It's hard to take the high road, especially when life is throwing snowballs at you. As beautiful as the weekend was, it was also very difficult and I still have a couple of events on my mind. I need to write my feelings about them to cleanse my soul and move on to better thoughts.

- The sitution with my parents and their neighbors, specifically what happened over the weekend. It's prejudice, and it's the worst feeling in the world. My parents have never, ever, ever dealt with that in thier lives ... they've always been loved and accepted and respected - especially with my dad being a physician - and seeing these people unfairly target and be mean to us breaks my heart.

I have to believe and have faith that karma will deal with all of it, but the treatment and attitude is deplorable.

- Bozo. When I picked the baby up yesterday, the baby was soaked, dirty, hungry, and sad. He had just been with his dad for a few hours, but he was worse for the wear. Bozo's "movie" making partner was there with him, discussing "movie" stuff, and they were both ignoring the baby and his needs. It just makes me MAD that this foolish nonsense is a priority over a child, one who is obviously needing to be changed.

When I went in to pick up the baby, Bozo's friend ignored me and didn't greet me, but that's to be expected from Bozo's friends, and I don't care anyway. All of his friends are like that, and I guess that's whats to be expected from people who think Bozo is that great, anyway.

Ok, I feel better now. On to better thoughts. It's a gorgeous day outside and I'm going to take advantage of it during my lunch. Hooray for great weather.

On Sunday evening ...v

... I'd planned on the following:

- assemble my new printer
- make and drink iced tea, even bought a bag of ice cubes for this purpose
- watch sex and the city reruns
- have a good, old time doing all of these.

The reality?

I conked out in bed next to the baby at 9 pm, nary a care in the world. Single mom's evening plans DASHED. At least I'm well rested now.

Some good thoughts for the week ahead

It's early Sunday evening and me and baby are both POOPED. It was a long day of going to the park, him being with his (inattentive) dad for a while and him not napping as well as he should or feeling that great, errands, and then topped off by a disastrous trip to the supermarket where he refused to sit in the cart and I had to haul all 28 pound of him around, all the while he nibbled on the Hawaiian Roll I unsuccessfully tried to bribe him with.

Parenting is an endurance challenge.

Despite all the nuttiness associated with our lives, it was a great day. The sun was shining, the weather was fabulous, and it felt SO GOOD to be out and about, and I was thankful to be able to get stuff done - the kind of stuff I've been putting off for "someday".

It was a rough week, and there were a couple of moments I seriously contemplated packing it up and moving to the mountains due to all the rude people I've been encountering lately. After all that rudness, you start to question your fundamental faith in humanity, but then I realize that that proverbial maxim is true ... I must be the change I wish to see in this world. Counter a meanness with a kindness.

While waiting for my car to be washed, I finally finished the Carolyn Myss book I've been reading for a while, and at the end there is a really great to-do list of sorts I have to share, invisible acts of power, she calls them.

1. Hold the door open.
2. Smile.
3. Offer a kind word and encouragement.
4. Give a compliment.
5. Listen without interruption.
6. Make a prayer when your intuition tells you to.
7. Offer a prayer for a homeless person.
8. Pray - period.
9. Forgive others and yourself.
10. Prepare a meal for a friend.
11. Refrain from judging another person harshly.
12. Remember that life is full of miracles and have faith that every difficult situation can change in the blink of an eye.
13. Remember the truth that there is no such thing as a small or insignificant act of service.
14. Keep your power and attention in present times.
15. Begin and end the day in appreciation of either doing or accepting an invisible act of powr.

Monday is just a few hours away - lets make it a great one.

Just press the ignore button

Today I learned a great lesson in that saying, "You can't buy class." You can buy fancy clothes, fast cars, big houses, have stacks of cash in the bank, but you just can't buy class. Some of the wealthies people are the most classless, and that's what I saw firsthand today.

This story comes straight from the depths of South Orange County, where apparently people believe money equals the law. It's true ... the former sherrif has been indicted for bribery and other related crimes that have gone on for the last few years.

It was one of those days where it felt like I was being punked all day. Just one crazy situation after another and there were times I was looking around for the camera that had to be following me. Wasn't it all part of a Candid Camera sketch???

This morning my mom successfully made it to traffic school after a failed attempt a few weeks ago, and my dad was helping me pack the baby up, etc.... At 10 am, a new neighbor, 3 houses down, who was moving in today and we've never met, rang the doorbell and my dad answered. I witnessed everything. He opens the door and she starts screaming at him, "DON'T YOU DARE EVER PARK YOUR CAR IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE!"

Uh ....

No hello, no how are you, no introduction, just straight up screaming and pointing and rudeness. She's an older lady, apparently moving in by herself.

There's been a lot of hostility between the next door neighbors and my parents ... they've been bullying them about parking for years, and the people who left and just sold the newly occupied house left because they couldn't take what was going on with their neighbors.

They're crazy ... the worst kind ... nouveau riche, huge sense of entitlement, and have been rude on top of rude, on top of more rude. Nice at first, and then their awfulness comes out.

It was my car, my sisters were asleep, and my dad was very upset about being yelled at for no good reason, so I took the baby with me to move it, and as soon as I approach, she starts in on me ... yelling, screaming, and I just say "STOP! Don't talk to me. This is a public street, I can park where I want. You're disturbing my child."

She starts telling me how the neighbors called my parents a menace, blah, blah, blah ... and she can talk to me if she wants to. I only reply back, "I'm not listening to you, you've started off on the wrong foot with my family", ignore her, put the baby in the car, and drive off to repark in front of my parent's house, blocking the driveway.

Ok, I get the fact that she doesn't want me parking in front of her house, but what the heck kind of a person is she if it's ok to scream and yell and bully people you've never met, that you've only heard hearsay and rumors about from people who are crazy themselves?

And she really did get off on the wrong foot ... she really should be ashamed of herself for yelling at a 70 year old man and a woman holding a baby, but you know SHE'S NOT, and that's the whole problem. Such a sense of entitlement. Rude people really do SUCK!

No worries, though, because she has no reason to bother me anymore, she has no reason to bother my parents (even though they tell me she rings their doorbell at least once a day), and we can all just press the ignore button on this one. She'll learn, all too soon, about how rude the other neighbors really are, and I'll keep the police department's number on speed dial, just in case.

What a start to the day ... it only gets better ... maybe a little funnier. After I had reparked my car, I was ready to GO ... you really know you've grown up when you have to talk your dad down from his worries ... strange to me to see how the tables have turned in our lives and in my adulthood.

We've never had a really great relationship, in fact, he used to make me VERY upset in my youth. Things do change, I'm finally seeing.

After we'd gotten the heck outta Dodge, I headed home, unpacked, and then headed 20 minutes north to my old 'hood, in LA proper, a little village just below UCLA. Every now and then, I get nostalgic and need to take a trip back, and it's always like going to a different universe and I remember all over again why I was so ready to leave!

Personal space violations all over the place, no parking, traffic hell, no conveniences of any kind, going to Target is a nightmare and you spend money as soon as you leave your front door, pretty much. Thank GOD I was able to strongarm Bozo into moving when I was 9 months pregnant.

There is one good thing about the area, which is that you witness crazy people ALL over the place, who make you feel SO much better about your own level of craziness, and you realize you're really not as nutty as you think you are. I'm not talking about homeless people asking for a dime, I'm talking about the ordinary people walking next to you on the street or the people serving you junk food and then giving you a lecture on nutrition.

Oh, yes.

There's this frozen yogurt phenomenon that's been going on for the last few years. Apparently, the frozen yogurt we've all been eating since the '80's really isn't, and it's basically just soft serve ice cream. Who knew? I sure didn't. Would explain the extra pregnancy poundage, because I was ADDICTED to it.

A couple of years ago, some Korean companies revolutionized the American frozen yogurt market by introducing frozen treats made with actual yogurt cultures ... think tarter, crisper, tangier. You go to these places, it's basically one or two flavors, usually plain and green tea, and you choose 3 or more toppings, mostly fruit.

The one that everyone knows and loves is Pinkberry. I remember when the first one opened up in West Hollywood near my chiropracter's office and the ridiculous lines that ensued. RIDICULOUS! Starbucks gave them seed money and they're all over the place now. It took me a few years to get into it, but I really do love Pinkberry's yogurt and get some of it maybe once a month or so as a treat.

Recently, they opened the original yogurt place in the little village I visited today. It's called Red Mango, and all the internet buzz says it's so much better than Pinkberry, so of course I had to go check this out.

When I got there, in the early afternoon, the store was empty, and so I placed my order and chose mango, mochi (made from rice, like gummi balls), and chocolate. The lady who'd taken my order waited a couple of seconds before telling me, "You know, a few pieces of mochi has the same amount of sugar as the yogurt."

Ok, so I switch to mandarin oranges ... "NO!" she tells me, same reason, and then, "You know when you eat raspberries every day, you ingest enough lycopene so that when you get older, you don't need to take the vitamin for eye health. Do you know what lycopene is? Same thing with blackberries, they have so many antioxidants ... blah, blah, blah."

What's running through my head as she's giving me a lecture in nutrition 101: Who has enough money to eat raspberries every day? They're expensive! Is this an episode of Punked? This is the plot of a Seinfeld episode. Uh huh, yeah, keep nodding ... am so tempted to run out of here ... when will she stop?

Uh, yeah, when I come to get sugary frozen treats, I don't really need a food lecture to go along with it. I'm taking my business to Pinkberry, where they let me order as much mochi and chocolate as I want and don't complain about it!

In the end, the taste did them in ... not as good as Pinkberry, and after the lecture, my heart just wasn't into it and I threw it out before I hit the end.

The day was still young, so we went back home, went to the park we failed at visiting last week (saw crazy man again, apparently he lives in the court next to the park, will avoid parking there), went to visit exMIL at work, baby had temper tantrum to end all temper tantrums, came home, ate, took bath, baby fainted in bed.

Never a dull moment.

Finally sitting down and eating breakfast

Oh, toddler teething days are the WORST ... their miserable, you're trying to soothe them, they're unsoothable, and then you finally give them pain meds, which is a mess in and of itself ....

Things have calmed down and he's eating breakfast, but it's been a wild morning already. My well-intentioned dad thought a popscicle would make him feel better (for breakfast?!), which makes me wonder how I'm not 500 pounds because that's what he did when me and my sisters were growing up. Sugar makes it better, right?

Oh, boy ...back to whining, going to be one of those days.

Am I Ready?

He who is not courageous enough to take risks will accomplish nothing in life.” Muhammad Ali (via The Positivity Blog)

Am I ready for the companionship of a man, again? To be honest, I'm not sure right now. My life isn't set up so I have tons of free time or even all that much time for myself (see the last post). On top of all that, I'm still dealing with the emotional aftermath of my marriage, which has left me pretty scared about embarking onto something new.

And yet, I know that if I don't take that risk of meeting someone and getting to know them and embarking on a partnership with them, I am losing out on a part of life that could be quite wonderful. When it's good, it's really good, but when it's bad, it's what my marriage was.

What am I afraid of? Mostly of being trampled on all over again, of losing ME ... I've fought so hard and for so long to regain my sense of self after allowing it to be taken from me. That's a huge risk about getting involved in a relationship. I'm also afraid of feeling STUCK, of being so caught in lust that I don't recognize that the person is not the right one for me.

That's my tendency ... to get so wrapped up in the packaging, that I don't see what's underneath isn't worth all the hubub. For the most part, I've learned to ignore those feelings, but every once in a while, my good sense escapes me. Including VERY recently ... nice words and attention can sometimes disguise the most rotten insides.

Another thing that scares me is simple geography. I think a lot of single Californian women would agree with me that our pool of men is a lot skimpier than in other locales. Lots of beta fish, not a lot of salmon. While I tell people there are other men in the sea, I myself have a hard time picking out those fish.

I just don't know where all the funny, sexy, smart, strong, independent men are. Where are they? All I see is a lot of ugly, inside and out, and a whole lot of unavailable men. By ugly, I mean men who see you as part of an agenda, not as a potential life partner. And that's what it's all about for me ... the search for my life partner, and if not for my whole life, then for someone I can enjoy and grow with for part of my life, and then part with amicably if our relationship is irreparable.

Thinking about my friends who are in relationships or married, I made a list of where they all met. The majority met through work, others through friends or school, maybe a couple online. Looking around my office, there are zero available men. Zero. So, that takes me to friends ... my game plan is to attend as many events as I'm invited to, even though most of those are kid-centered events. You never know who will introduce you to who, and I guess at the end of the day, it's about keeping your options open and not expecting too much.

Life has shown me that I can shine on my own -- I can raise a child, keep a home, and move forward. Can I do the same with a relationship? Time will tell.

Doing nice things for myself

[note: it's 2 am the next day when i'm posting this ... fell asleep with the babe before publishing. hah!]

It's easy to get worn out in this single parent life, especially when you are tossed between different committments every day of your life ... between family, work, and baby, I've committed a large chunk of my time to people and things other than myself.

This is something that kind of reminds me of what I learned in Intro to Women's Studies in college, which is that in homes, most women don't have that much of their own space -- maybe 10-15% of their house is truly "theirs". In life, maybe 10-15% of my life is "mine", where I can do things I truly want to do, spontaneously.

Part of that is because hey, that's life! The other part is because it's just easy to fall into that routine and forget about things that really matter to YOU in life. That's where I find myself right now.

What I've learned to do in order to keep my sanity is to take the unbeaten path every once in a while, the proverbial alternate route. In a life that seems like I'm a hamster on a never ending wheel, doing the same things over and over again, my creative soul often voices it's displeasure and I'll do things to break up the status quo.

Like today -- a Thursday,a commute day. The freeway gods were smiling at me and I managed to make it 3/4ths of the way in about an hour, which is a blessing! I'd done my research earlier and discovered that a paper store I've been wanting to visit is in that area, so I took the offramp and quickly made it to the store.

I'm so glad I did. My visit was 20 minutes max, but in that time a kindly store employee took me over to their crafts table and showed me a couple of new things that I've been wanting to try, plus,I found out they hold calligraphy classes! Yay! Might be a challenge for me to take one with the scheduling, but they do have them and that's a good thing to know!

After the short trip, I got back in my car and back to my routine, but that little side trip and the couple of inexpensive crafting goodies I picked up made my evening go just a little bit easier. That is until Archie Bunker/mom and I got into a political arguement, but in the large scheme of things, that's ok!

Small steps!

When strange things happen

Something strange happened in my family ... my older (of two) younger sister goes to a university about 40 minutes away from our parent's home. They've been driving her back and forth at times, giving her rides to the train station and back at other times, and it's been hard on everyone. Because of her schedule this quarter, she's going to stay as a guest in a friend's dorm room one night a week, which is something that will make everyone's lives easier.

Considering how my parents had me on lockdown way into my adulthood, this is unprecedented, and WAY overdue. I'm proud of them for letting her do this, amazed that she was able to talk them into it, and glad she's going to be able to stretch her wings a little bit. It's about damn time!

The thing that amazes me is that it's a major break in my parent's way of thinking, which is to keep their kids in a home jail as long as possible, which is not the healthiest way of living. The thing about my parent's and their first-generation immigrant way of thinking is that there is a lot of fear going around. A whole lot of fear that manifests itself in strictness and rules and regulations and lockdowns that we first-gen kids quickly learn to respond to with a carefully crafted system of lies.

It's nuts, really, the lies I've told my parents and the lies my other first-gen friends told theirs. Ridiculous, when I think back on it, I can't believe what we've gotten away with. One friend lived with her boyfriend for years, the biggest no no ever, and had her sisters cover it up for her. Successfully, I might add. Others took trips out of the country, to other states, and a few had raging drug/alcohol habits.

Just lies upon lies upon lies, and I always wished I had a more honest relationship with my parents, but I knew that if I were to express myself truthfully, the consequences would not be worth the results. If I told my dad that there was a guy in my group of friends, he would embark on an hours long lecture about STDs. Seriously.

Things have gotten better over the years between me and my friends and our parental relationships, especially since we've gotten married, gotten jobs, and become adults. There are times I catch myself at the start of a lie with my mom, but I really do try to be more honest, especially now that I'm a 30-something mom, for pete's sake.

There's a local homicide case that's been on my mind lately. I'm somewhat fascinated by it, as sad as the story is. The victim, a 19 year old woman from my culture, got caught up with the drug scene and mysteriously disappeared after a party. The last time her parents saw her, she was on the back of a man's motorcylcle, riding away to a party. Investigators have uncovered the fact that she met this man while seeking drug connections on Craigslist, but her parents insist that she met this man while posting tutoring services, because she loved helping people. Her parents have put up a website documenting her academic and personal acheivements, with a bit of delusion about their daughter's personal activites. Again, a system of lies, this time linked to unspeakable tragedy.

This story kind of hit home hard, and makes me think about what kind of a parent I'm going to be. I think with kids a little dishonesty with your parents is inevitable, but I hope to have the kind of relationship with my son where he feels like he can be honest with me about his life. Really, next to him growing up to be a well-adjusted and productive member of society, that is the most important thing to me, as a mother.

You know you've grown up ...

... when you can thoroughly appreciate and give gratefulness to how far you've been and how far you've come in this journey called life.

Things have been coming to me lately, reminders that when you think your life is in the dumps, it really isn't and the proverbial silver lining and light ahead that everyone tells you about is really true.

Earlier today I was chatting with a college friend of mine who just had a baby ... her hormones are in action and she's worried, and sad, and stressed about her return to work in a few months and her mixed feelings towards her mother-in-law who will be watching her baby.

Let me just say that having a baby is no joke! As busy as I am with my toddler, I've forgotten how crazy those first few weeks and months were and reading her words made the memories all too clear, again. The lack of sleep, the worry, the tears, the emotion, and often feeling lonely about it all. Heck, I was worried my baby would totally forget I was his mother, which completely crushed me at the time. Seriously, it was all I could think about. And cry about.

Also, as much as I love my exMIL, at the time I was drinking some serious haterade and resented her for barging in my life, letting Bozo get away with his crap ... man, those were some rough times. When you're that emotional and people are so unsupportive, it's just the last thing a new mother needs.

The thing about my friend? She doesn't realize how noncomplicated things have to be ... she's an adult, a practicing M.D., the owner of a beautiful home, and yet, like me, she is feeling the parental pressure ... it's rough! Really, it is, when you have some stubborn and demanding parents and in-laws!

That's why I'm taking this chance to thank the friends who were there with me during my time of maternal misery for getting me this far ... thanks for putting up with my emotions and hearing me out during those tough times!

Perspective is a good thing.

Yeah, right ... lessons I'm continually learning

I have a problem ... I like free stuff. Free meals, free clothes, free samples. It's an affliction, and one that I often battle in situations that might not be for my benefit. There's a couple things I've learned in this lifetime, and one of them is that you can only be yourself, and also that free doesn't always equal good.

Tuesday afternoons are the only ones exMIL can't watch baby, and I usually pick him up a bit early since Bozo watches him for a few hours before he goes to work, or whatever it is he does. Flush with payday money, I decided to treat the two of us out to dinner at a favorite fast-food/dine-in combo type of restaurant ... really a great option for moms with easily distracted kids.

ExMIL was there on a dinner break from work and suggested to Bozo that the 3 of us go out to dinner ... Bozo's treat. Bozo asked me if I wanted to do that, and I didn't say anything, my ears perking up at the prospect of a free dinner. But, then, I came to my senses and realized that even if the dinner was free, I would pay for it and then some by having to listen to Bozo go on and on about his "movie", so I quickly put the kibbosh on Bozo's plans.

As Bozo emerged from his room, putting his lounging pajamas back on, I got a glimpse of his hairy chested glory and see that he is about 10 months pregnant at this point. Seriously, he's gained a lot of weight, and considering how much time and energy he spent ribbing me about my weight, I can only see this as another karmic payback from the universe.

MsSingleMama published a hate letter she received from an ignorant person, and although the letter is full of false accusations and haterade, the person made a comment about how MsSingleMama's posts about her baby daddy are going to hurt her son in the long run.

I take offense to that sentiment, but it also made me think ... will my son be mad/offended/hurt in the future if and when he should read my blog and posts about Bozo??? Who's to say or know or even make that accusation?

When I post about Bozo and his antics and make comments on them, it's not for malicious intent. This is what he's really like ... a Bozo at the core. Throughout our relationship, he left me with a lot of negative feelings about himself and myself, and blogging is my way of dealing with the aftermath of it all. I don't think any single mother who went through a bad marriage/divorce should have to justify that at all.

The person who wrote that hate mail is obviously wrapped up in their own drama, and won't listen or believe any arguements to the contrary of their throughts. They are pretty Bozo-ish, too. But, for the record, I've met MsSingleMama and she is a wonderful mother who loves her son dearly. You really can't ask for anything more than that.