Orgasmic Earwax

okay, so i'm stumped on what to write about, i was requested to write something funny… and all i can think about is this hilarious conversation i had the other day with a friend about cleaning ears with q-tips. how many times have we been told not to shoove a q-tip into our ears to clean them? i've been shoving q-tips into my ears for nearly 40 years now and i've had no problems...

but ya know what's really great? it brings such ultimate pleasure to get a really good clean in! it's practically orgasmic! going a few days and then using a q-tip … oh i feel like maggie when i hit her tickle spot on her belly... my leg gets to quivering and oh...oh...it is like an orgasmic experience. oh yes, i love my q-tips!

What makes your heart hurt?

My heart hurts tonight… what’s that quote… “A mother is only as happy as her happiest child.”? Well…do stepchildren count?

Let me introduce you to my stepdaughter. She is 12 years old, but looks like she’s 16. She’s at that awkward age for every girl. She started her period last year, found out about her parent’s divorce when she was 7, thinks she knows everything, but is the most lonely, searching, desolate little girl I’ve ever met.

She has very low self esteem, she’s overweight, she’s self conscience, moody, a manipulator, and will do whatever it takes to get attention…good or bad. When she gets into one of her moods, which can change in less than a split second, it’s miserable.

I know she’s like this… I know this about her. Many times she makes me angry as she attempts to play me to get what she wants. At first I was ‘daddy’s girlfriend’…. Daddy’s girl friend was cool and fun to be around because she got a ‘friend’ not a mom. Once I became step mom, things change… I think she was afraid I was going to take her daddy away from her. Little girls are protective of their daddies. Then, she plays her dad…who will let her get away with whatever she wants. I think it’s the guilt men with children feel when they go through a divorce…

His daughter has issues…lots of them. He won't face them, and neither will her mother. A couple of weekends ago she got into one of her funks while we were driving in the car. Enough was enough... I wouldn't tolerate this behavior from my children, I won't tolerate it from my step children either.

So... I called her on it. She told me she didn’t have to talk to me…and refused to speak. She clammed up, stared out the car window into her own little world. I stopped the car, grabbed her chin and made her look at me. I told her, “You know what Cara? You are right! You ARE right! YOU DON’T have to talk to me. You don’t have to talk to anyone…but just remember…that goes TWO ways! And if you want ANY kind of friendship or relationship with ANYONE…me…kids at school…even your dad… you better open it up, because it’s not a one way relationship here. I may not be your mother, but I love you like you were one of my own.” (tears are welling up in the eyes of this little hardened heart I am talking to). I went on to say, “and if you decide you only want to talk to me when it’s convenient…when you want something or need something… I may decide that I DON'T want to talk to you…I may shut you out…that’s the way it works in your little world…isn’t it?”

Well…like I’ve been told before…I don’t always have a knack for tack. However, even though she pouted out of the car and slammed the door when I dropped her off at her moms house… I got through. Even though I don’t always see it, Joe tells me Cara will talk to me before she will even talk to her own mom sometimes…

So…that brings us to today. And my heart hurts for Cara. She asked me a couple of weeks ago if she could have an End of Summer Swim party at my mom’s house. I was a little shocked, but say sure. I’m all about parties…of all kinds…but I’ve been told that her mom is just not that kind of person… So…I embraced the event. I even told my own girls that this was not a time for them…it was a ‘big girl party’. I was just so ecstatic that Cara was actually inviting some girls over to hang out…this is something she has NEVER done before. We made invitations, passed them out. We ordered Little Caesar’s Pizza (nastiest stuff I ever tasted), cokes, etc. My dad cleaned the pool this morning and my mom put out new pool cushions and fluffed them up. Everything was ready…everything was prepared.

It was every young girl’s nightmare…

No one showed up. No one. No one called. No one came. She handled it with grace…that little heart of stone. I put my arm around her and asked if she was okay. ‘Yep’ was all I got. I asked if she was mad… no answer…she just held up her thumb and index finger to signal a gauge of, ‘just a little’. I asked if she was sad…and the flood gates opened. Bless her little heart.

My heart truly aches for her tonight…

Originally Posted: Saturday August 5, 2006 09:42 pm

I'm addicted...

I’m a mom…and I feel like I’m a pretty good mom at that. I love my kids and get so much joy out of them in all aspects… playing games, making arts and crafts, reading stories together, playing hide and go seek…and playing paintball!

Oh my…I never realized how much I would enjoy playing paintball.

My first experience was exhilarating…although I was as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs! As we walked in the lobby area to get our guns and gear, the testosterone level went up about 20 notches. There were groups of guys in camouflage, checking their ammo supply, strapping on extra rounds, wearing all the professional padding and gear…I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into. I was the only mom out there. This was not looking good. I had a sinking suspicion that I was gonna get creamed.

However, being the only female on the field has its advantages too.

If my gun jammed, instantly I could get one of those hunk of a guys to come over and assist me by unclogging it …laying his life down for poor little me. I could play the ‘female trump card' and get them to give me more paintballs for my gun should I run out. I had lots of protection from my fellow paintball teammates surrounding me, since I was so precious...and fragile. And when my fellow teammates realized my which family members of mine were on the other team, they didn’t hesitate to help me take them out.

I got nailed quite a few times, but that was okay…it was all part of the game. I left looking like a piece of graffiti art. It was fabulous and can’t wait to go again with my kiddos.

Ok Go!

This has been around awhile, but I still love it!
I wish I could do this on my treadmill...I'd fall off and hit the floor and probably get my hair tangled up in the conveyer belt...
But it's fun to imagine it!

Enjoy!

I Believe in Miracles...

Well, from yesterday's blog...you know I believe in fairytales. I believe in Miracles too...

ENJOY this....!

Hope it gets you through the week!!!

Originally posted: August 1, 2006 - 10:39 pm

25 years ago Princess Diana married Prince Charles…

It’s every little girl’s fantasy. It truly was a magical moment. We’ve all seen the pictures. I even remember being mesmerized in front of the TV watching it with my parents. It was a fairy tale from the beginning…how a poor little spinster girl ends up marrying a prince. She arrived in a carriage, the train of her gown flowing out the cathedral… Princess Diana was the main event…all cameras and eyes were on her. She was beautiful and had everyone watching her …succumbed to her beauty and the beautiful life she was embracing… so we all thought.

But we also know how it ended…affairs, divorce, death…

So the question begs to be asked… do fairy tales really exist?

My youngest daughter (age 6) whose name is Sarah (which fittingly means “Princess”) truly believes she is a princess. At age 6 - everything is real - Santa, the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny…and Princes. Sarah captures everyone’s heart…she’s just got that girly personality. My mother says she is me made over…God bless her soul….

The first prince in her life was her dad. Every girl wants to be daddy’s little girl…the apple of his eye. Most girls want to marry their dad when they are little. Sarah’s dad plays the part well. He deserves a daytime Emmy for the performance he gives when he sees her.

Now some of you are thinking…Well, what’s the problem with that? Even my six year old through her innocent eyes wonders what is wrong with that...

Re-read the last four words of that paragraph… “when he sees her.”

Does he show up every other weekend like he is supposed to for his visitation time with his daughters? Survey Says, “No”.Does he call when he’s not going to show up? “No”.Does he call during the week just to say Hi? “No”.Does he call on her Birthday to say, “Happy Birthday!”? “No”.Did he watch her play ONE soccer game last season? “No”.Does he call on Christmas or Christmas morning to find out what Santa brought? “No”.Does he know her favorite color? Her best friends name? What her favorite book is? No. No. No. Does he know her teacher’s names at school? Does he know her favorite food? “No”.

Does he know she loves him anyway?

As her mother…it breaks my heart. The battles her father and I fought …the choices we made, the separate roads we decided to take need not concern her nor are her fault. I left her father for reasons I won’t go into (that’s for another blog…maybe). I refuse to be the bad guy and point these things out to her… I will not be the one to ‘dethrone’ her prince or ruin her fairytale, no matter how angry it makes me or how much it truly hurts to see her not have a father who loves her back the way she loves him.

How can I do this you ask???

My other daughter, Rachel (Age 9) is Miss Intellectual. She is straight A’s, brains, but no common sense…bless. She has had her first few doses of reality and does not always view the world with rose colored glasses She knows Santa is not real, nor the tooth fairy. She also knows that her dad has let her down; he has broken promises made directly to her. Does she love him anyway?

Sure she does.

Have I led Rachel in her beliefs in any way about her dad? No. She’s learned it on her own…unprotected from Mama’s wing…or mouth. As a mother, instinct wants to warn them like crazy…tell them what kind of father they REALLY have. Let all the skeletons out of the closet!
But if you believe in fairytales, you can’t do that…

I still do love the fairytale…the white knight saves the princess…I’m in love with the fantasy of it… but I know what’s fantasy and what’s real. That doesn’t make me love it any less. Fairytales are what keep us motivated… they keep the dreams alive… the energy flowing… without them we die.

So even though I know how Princess Diana’s life ended up…I can still see a photograph taken 25 years ago of her on her wedding day and feel just as elated for her…even though I know the end…because, it’s "living for the moment" and in that moment, her fairytale was real!

Right now, the moment my kids are in, is a moment when they feel loved by their daddy. Every girl is entitled to it. They will grow up… they will be able to see the truth one day…but for the moment, it makes them happy…its part of their story….their fairytale.

Embrace the moment, enjoy the fairytale…don’t worry about the future…because the future will happen no matter what. At least you can say you had it for a time…

Originally posted: Monday July 31, 2006 - 06:42pm

Tsunami

It’s insane really. Crazy how in an instant you can see someone and feelings come flooding back like a tsunami. As I was walking out of the gym today with my kids in tow, I ran into this guy. Instantly before I could even understand what was happening, feelings from years ago came caving in on me and took my breath away – literally. I have no idea who this guy was, nor did he know me…but I’ll be damned if he did not look just like someone I once had a thing for.... He must have thought I was insane as I took a double take and cracked out a weak, “Hi.” Wow what a resemblance! But even more shocking than the resemblance, were the feelings that I instantly started feeling in every cell of my body. We are not talking butterflies…it felt more like horses running wild... I was nervous and anxious... and this guy was a complete stranger!! He must have thought I was INSANE.

All of this happened in a mere split second, but the feelings…oh my gosh… the feelings hung on all night. I couldn’t get this guy off my mind. Why is that? I’m attempting to live life right, married, awesome kids, typical urban home, and even a member of the PTA. I’m not looking for anyone or anything to fill a ‘void’…so why is it that it hits like a ton of bricks and lingers? It’s insane. Has it ever happened to you? Do you see someone or hear an old song that takes you back in rush to memories that you thought were buried forever? It really is insane.

I wonder how he's doing?

Originally posted: Wednesday, July 19, 2006 11:47 pm

I Used To Shine...

“I used to shine!” Sandra Bullock’s character said it in "Hope Floats" to her daughter as she reminisced what she thought to be the good ole days. The days when she won beauty pageants, was homecoming queen and dated, then married the star football player. Yeah, she used to shine.

And so did I.

I might not have been the homecoming queen, or even popular for that matter, but I had a great figure - long legs, small waist, big boobs, long brown curly hair and deep chocolate brown eyes. I modeled swimsuits and prom dresses for department stores, and even did perfume modeling…yeah that’s right… the annoying ladies that squirt perfume on you to ‘test’ without asking…

I was bold and fearless, ready to attack the world, make my mark and let everyone know who I was! Strong and stubborn, I would make my dreams come true no matter what!

I used to shine. I was known in high school and college as an awesome artist. I had dreams – big dreams! I was a girl with incredible talent. I planned to go to the Art Institute in Chicago. “Flash Dance” was my mantra. I dreamed of moving to New York, being a Coyote Ugly girl if I had too in order to make a living… now wouldn’t that make dad proud!

I used to shine. I used to be young, beautiful, bold and brash. I used to fill my world with acrylic color and shades of 2B lead. I didn’t have a care in the world, but the sun on cheeks, and dreams swirling in my head… yeah, I used to dream.

So why don’t I shine now? Good question. Did I tarnish the shine with bad choices? Choices to ‘party’ instead of get an education, choices to move out on my own and live the ‘flash dance’ life, only to fail? Did immaturity and a false sense of invincibility set me up for failure to reach my dreams? I did not finish college. I never went to the Art Institute in Chicago. I’ve never been to New York, I’ve never danced on a bar, but I did make dad proud.

The journey I’ve been on has been one of character building. It has not been an easy road. I’m at a point now in my life that I can appreciate the journey I’ve been on and I’m here to tell you, I don’t shine anymore…I used to shine… now I blaze!