I Know You’re Built To Love, But Broken Now, So Just Try, Yeah I know You’re Chokin’ On Your Fears

So never in my wildest dreams did I expect this to happen. We went to get the mail yesterday and there were a few small packages in it, one for each of the kids and myself. From E. Not gonna lie at first I was like wtf? For a quick instant I was like is it something dangerous? What could it possibly be? Why after all these years, over 6 to be exact, would my ex be mailing something to his kids for the first time ever? So I sat in the front of my car and opened the Little E’s package first before handing it over just in case it was something that was better off handled by me. Is that a federal offence? I’m not 100% sure, but as a mother I’m sure you’d do it to if your ex sent your kids a small package in the mail for the first time ever after being apart for 6 years. I wanted to make sure it was something that would be good for Little E. Not harmful.

Surprise of my year when I looked in a saw a book and a card! I peeked in the card an saw the start of a nice note written to Little E. I opened Z’s package and saw something similar so I handed the packages back to the kids and told them they were from their dad.

I asked them to wait to open them and we called E so he could see their reactions as they opened the small gifts. I figured he had done this small thing for his kids he should at least be able to enjoy it. He picked up as I was pretty sure he would as I know he’s not working and doesn’t leave the house often due to his mental health issues, and watched the kids open their gifts.

I had to read the cards to the kids for them since he had written in cursive, and I will admit he did a really good job. Never in over the dozen years of knowing E has he written me a card, and now these heartfelt cards had words like I’m proud of you and you’re growing into a smart young woman etc. They weren’t just left at the writings that the cards had preprinted inside. It was really nice to see.

Then I opened my envelope and there, for the first time was an ugly ass purple card for Mother’s Day. The first one I’ve ever gotten from the father of my kids. Saying thank you for being a good mom.

And I was speechless. I teared up. Because I have to admit this week I felt like calling E and bitching at him to say I’ve been raising these kids on my own for the last 6 years without so much as a thank you, but I restrained myself One, because I’ve never done that before so why start now, and two because I’ve been really trying hard to control what kind of energy I put into the world, and also because I know he struggles with the reality of other people’s life’s at he is dealing with so much in his own mind. So I didn’t want to put that on him. So I didn’t call.

But when that card came in the mail I felt guilty for putting those thoughts out there. Yes, I needed him to acknowledge that I’ve been doing a great job and that I’ve been doing it alone. But I also need to keep my own mind in check of how I think of other people.

So I just wanted to share that my kids received the first ever gifts from their dad this week. Ones that I didn’t shop for on his behalf, and kind heartfelt written cards that they’ll treasure for a long time. And maybe it doesn’t seem that important to you, because your family is great and your dad does that stuff for you all the time, but just know I’ve been praying for this for a long time. And it’s beautiful to see it happen. And to see my kids hold those books, and get something I couldn’t give them no matter how hard I tried.

Was heart breaking and wonderful at the same time.

-Be Kind/Halsey and Marshmello-

Let’s Go Don’t Wait This Night’s Almost Over

So, in a world filled with COVID-19, I’m going to write my first post in over a month and not mention it at all… well at least not again lol. I’m going to tell all of you who have been checking my site on the daily (yeah I browse my stats, I see y’all, thanks for your dedication. It’s obviously more than I had to my writing this past little while) about my date.

That’s right I said it. I, the previously undateable girl, went on a date. An organic, non-online tinder-esk arranged date. An actual ‘you busy Friday? date. Me.

Hey these are crazy times right? I guess stranger things are happening, so why not this to?

Just as this whole pandemic was starting (I said pandemic not the dreaded C-word) I was headed to a potluck some friends were having with my kids and invited a neighbor and her son to come. She couldn’t make it since her brother had just recently moved in with her and so I offered to take her son anyway to give her and her brother some time to hang out. So sweet of me hey? So I drive to pick up her boy and that’s when I met her brother J.

Now I’m gonna be completely honest, as I do here on my blog. J’s fine. And I don’t mean fine as in fine like boy he fine, but more of a he’s just ok type of fine. So don’t get your panties up in a bunch when you realize that obviously he’s the dude I’m talking about when I say I went on a date and I’m only using the word fine to describe him. But that’s the best word I have. He’s not amazing. He’s fine. He’s not talk dark and handsome. He’s fine. Actually he’s super tall, but that still only puts him at fine. Sure he was super kind when I met him that night and had a good hand shake (lame that that’s the best redeeming quality I remember) but I’m just really not attracted to him. C? Wtf did you go on a date with him you’re probably thinking? Me too at this point but the past is in the past. This post isn’t about why I did it lol. Just describes the fact that I did. So chill.

Anyway my neighbor did introductions and that was that. A few days later my neighbor texted to say J was BBQing and would the kids and I like to come for dinner? Sure why not. We ended up staying for dinner and then having a bonfire and drinks late into the night, just hanging out. J walked us home and we made out pretty heavily before I sent him home. The next day my neighbor texted saying J was asking for my number was that cool with me? Ok. Here’s where I changed my first opinion of J. Yeah I still think he’s basically fine and definitely not the love of my life. But he’s got gentleman potential. Do I want to be in a long term relationship with him or something/anything? Nope. But I think he’s got something special for some girl. just not me.

Anyway I said sure, I didnt mind he could have my number, and he texted after work that day. He. Is. An. Awful. Texter. He’s also older than me. By a sizeable chunk. Now normally age doesn’t bother me, but when you’re in a whole other generation…. it affects how you interact with the world, so it plays a part. Anyway. He ended coming by the next weekend with my neighbor and her neighbor (who she’s seeing… apparently we like to keep things tight knit over here 😏) to hang out and that’s when on the way out he asked me on the date. Just a quick question on the way out the door. Do you wanna go for dinner Friday night? Yeah I just realized I’ve written all this and haven’t even gotten to the date. So I’ll jump to it.

I said yes, mainly because I was shocked. Because in 32 years I’ve never been asked that, and we all know it’s like a deep dream of mine. Something I’ve always wanted. Also because he was leaning in to kiss me and I really didn’t know what else to think. So I said yes. But as soon as the door shut, I thought, I don’t know if I want to go on a date with that man. I know I don’t like him like that. I made out with him mainly because yep I was drunk and yep because he was there. Call me what you want but that’s the truth. But I don’t want to go down the path that this seemed to somehow be heading in a very fast way.

There were so many thoughts going through my head and I settled on the most important one. Being that I didn’t want my friendship with my neighbor to be ruined if (and when) things broke off if it happened how I thought it would. So I texted her to see if whatever was happening between J and I was ok with her. And she was like ohhh it’s all cool. He smiles and laughs when he texts you. You make him happy. Well obviously it’s cause I’m hilarious, no but for real, now I’m like damn. I don’t wanna hurt his feelings, but I also didn’t want to commit.

Now don’t get me wrong, on Friday night I cleaned up real nice and we went on our date. Kinda. I half-assed it. I didn’t get a babysitter in time. To be honest though I didn’t even ask a single person. So here he is asking if I like lobster and have I been to certain ridiculously fancy restaurants in town and I’m like, I thought this was going to be a casual drinks thing. I don’t want to sit at a quiet chandelier lit dinner with a man I hardly know on our first night together. So I had to explain that to him.

We ended up just going to get drinks at a pub while he had his hands all over me while we waited for our Chinese take out order to be made and then went home and watched a movie.

But then. He stayed the night. It just kind of happened. I didn’t invite him. And he didn’t ask. I would have much preferred he had gone home, but he was pretty drunk so I felt bad. What I felt annoyed about most was how he didn’t give any regard to my kids and how I was going to explain it to them.

I’ve had guys over at night before. And they either left that night or quietly the next morning out my bedroom door. But J? Nope. The next day he walked out my door and loudly says good morning to the kids before I could even react.

They obviously had so many questions after he left. Did J sleep here? Why is he here. And I’m like nope. He just came for a visit this morning. Like fuck J. You didn’t respect me or my life in that moment at all.

So later I explained to him that I think we would be better off as friends. And that I appreciated the date, but I just don’t see us going anywhere.

So there, my friends you have the tale of my first date. The great let down. The time a man took me out. Was going to make reservations until I shot him down. Paid for my night. And I realized that dates are probably not all I worked them up to be. At least not with the wrong person.

Live and learn hey?

– First Date/Blink 182

My Mama Loves, She Loves Me She Gets Down On Her Knees And Hugs Me She Loves Me Like A Rock She Rocks Me Like The Rock Of Ages

*** UPDATE *** I’ve linked my Instagram for pictures. Relevant to the post 😁****

Totally not the topic of my post but I’m at Starbucks writing this morning, since I’m meeting with a friend. Normally when I come and write here, I order my drink in a porcelain cup, you know to save the environment and not use a plastic cup and lid. So I order as per usual, and the barista says they aren’t serving in to-stay cups because of the corona virus. Like what? How will me not a WASHABLE MUG, that should be sanitized thoroughly with hot water and soap be helpful? Sure you don’t want to touch my germs (that I don’t have, since I’m not carrying the virus), but I would place the mug in a wash bucket/bin for you and you use gloves to put it in the dishwasher…. I truly fail to see the benefit of not serving drinks in them during this time other than adding to our pollution.

However, lol. That’s not the point of my blog today. Just a thought I have while writing. Another thought, was I figured out how to edit/make new paragraphs on Little E’s IPad, so I’m moving up in the world. Lol. What’s actually on my mind today, is the facts that we as a family went to the dentist a little while ago. While we were there the hygienist, who is of Asian decent (not normally a factor but plays into the story in a minor way, as a minority in our town plus with her accent) made a comment to me. She’s a very kind woman, maybe late twenties, early thirties with no kids of her own. We’ve been to the dentist a couple times now since moving so we’ve been chatting a bit, I mean as much as you can while your mouth is stuck open while your teeth are being cleaned. So this time, as I was on my way out she said, word for word as it made such and impact on me: “So you adopted your two kids” With such a sweet smile and an air of, oh what a kind thing I’d done to adopt two siblings of colour who must have been from a foreign country and probably are so much better off with me. I must be such a good lady, to have saved them from whatever war zone or something like that. Like I’d rescued them. That sort of tone/look on her face. So I figured if she was going to push the boundaries and make such a statement that was so inconsiderate, and thoughtless, then well… 🤯 I responded with: “No, they’re mine, I grew them in my belly and pushed them out my own vagina. Thanks for asking.” She was so red, rightfully so. And rushed to say it was because they don’t look like me. Ok. Ok, ok okaaaay. I know my kids aren’t like spitting images of me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be considered or thought of as much their mom as other parents who are moms and dads of kids who aren’t mixed race, or look more similar to their children. Or that obtuse people can judge my kids heritage and make them feel like they don’t belong. In fact, I may be more involved in my kids lives than many other parents who look more like their kids than I do. Looking the same as someone doesn’t automatically make you more a parental figure than me. Parenting takes time and effort. It takes imparting wisdom and listening to their deepest fears and helping the kids work through them. It takes years of hard work, trying to figure out how to pay for extra curricular activities on a single mom budget and nights crying alone in bed worrying about their future. It takes hours praying for them, hoping they will make good choices for their own lives, while knowing you can’t protect them from everything, but wishing you could. It takes prepping three meals a day, seven days a week and about a zillion snacks for years, which I’m sure continues even after they move out. It takes holding your tongue when they bring home friends you don’t agree with, then having conversations with them later about being an influential figure not the one influenced. It’s about wiping tears and giving hugs even if your hurting to. It’s about helping with homework even if they teach math stupidly now. It’s about 7:00 am Saturday morning hockey games and Sunday afternoon dance recitals. It’s about showing them love and connection. Its about teaching personal hygiene and sexual education and loving others as well as personal boundaries. It’s helping little humans self discover who they are and teaching them it’s ok to change, or not know. It’s explaining to them when to say sorry, and when to stand your ground. It’s helping them learn about emotion and safe ways to express them. It’s about creating a home environment where they feel safe to come home to when nowhere else in the world is listening to them. The list goes on, and for me, it’s about doing it all by myself. So, yes these are my biological kids, but I think being a parent can be for anyone who has consistently put in that effort, time and love into a child who needs it. So was I offended when the hygienist said that? Not so much offended as shocked. I just figured that in this day in age people wouldn’t be out making statements about others life’s so blatantly, without and background information or invite. Do I blame here for thinking that? Not necessarily, since she’s not far from the truth. My kids and I don’t look a ton alike. What I would do though, is caution her from making those comments so haphazardly in the future again. Other individuals may not take her tactless comments so lightly. I am basically the only parent my children have known, and I will teach them that looks now, and in the future will never matter. Because it is 100% on the inside what matters. -Loves Me Like A Rock/Paul Simon-

There’s No Way I Can Save You ‘Cause I Need To Be Saved Too

Today I found myself sitting on a pile of darks while the white’s spun around in the washing machine.

Never in my life have I seemed so pathetic to even myself. Sinking down into a pile of dirty laundry filled with Little E’s sweaty soccer uniform and dirty towels that I’ve used to squirt all over while masturbating and sandy bathing suits mixed with the kids clothes covered in art supplies and grass stains. All just to try and have a few minutes of peace and quiet to myself.

So I closed the door as quietly as possible and sat on the pile as I watched the washer start to do it’s thing. I could hear the kids playing hide and seek and I tried to just focus on relaxing. Something I’m not good at.

Whenever I’ve gone for a massage or anything, the practitioner is always commenting that I need to relax more, that I’m tense. I honestly don’t know what they mean. I literally live my life at this tense level and when I’m laying there on that bad I AM AS RELAXED AS I CAN BE! WTF do you think I’m here for a massage? I’m trying to relax more. You do your thing and massage all my stress away, don’t stress me out more by telling me I’m to stressed! Agh!

Anyways, my newest reason for stress is back to my headaches/seizures. My headaches have been out of control for a few months and no amount of sleep, advil, crying, hot showers or medication has proven to be able to stop them. So my doctor ordered an EEG for me. “An electroencephalogram (EEG) is a test used to find problems related to electrical activity of the brain. An EEG tracks and records brain wave patterns” – Thanks Google. Anyways, I went last Friday to the hospital for it. This isn’t my first go at something like this. I’ve had numerous EEG’s, MRI’s and even CAT scans in regards to my seizures. All of them showing that yes, there’s stuff going on up there that’s out of the ordinary, but no one knows why or what to do.

So I’m laying there on the bed once the tech gets all 29 electrodes glued to my head and we go through the deep breathing they have you do and then they have a flashing light set up to see how the brain waves react, which is fine for me since my seizures are not triggered by light, and then I’m just laying there for the last 20 minutes or so. That’s when it happened. Finally while I’m all hooked up to wires and everything to have it recorded on paper for proof.

I had one of my ‘experiences’

Just like a few times before, the world around me melted away and I was nothing and nowhere and everything was complete peace. Until the tech started moving around slowly and said “OK C, That’s it” She then proceeded to ask me if I had a Neurologist in the area (No) and if I had other recent scans handy to give the Dr. (Not on my person at the time, should I have brought them?). And that was that. She pulled out the electrodes and washed out the glue with zero regard to my fresh wash’n’go, messing the hell outta my hair, and I was on my way.

My phone rang on the drive home but I missed it as it was still on silent from the scan, but the voicemail was from the hospital:

I’m so messed up lol. The Dr. who read my results is requesting me as a patient lol, right after the tech explained to me that appointments with a Neurologist normally take a few months to get, and are on a first come first serve basis. So whichever Dr has a space available next, goes to the person at the top of the list. But here I am, getting name requested by the Dr. himself! I must have some juicy problems going on up there! I feel like this is way back in elementary school when teams are being picked for soccer at recess but now for the first time I was chosen first. (Yeah I was not an athletic kid lol)

Never in my wildest dream did I think I’d get pushed to the front of the line because of how fucked up my brain was/is. It’s validating in a way. A really weird messed up way, but a way nonetheless. Just to know that everything I’ve been going through is real. And has been recorded on paper by a legitimate hospital, and an actual Dr. might have a solution for me.

And in that weird way, I found myself trying to relax in the dark and quiet to just have some me time this morning in a pile of dirty laundry. This lasted all of 6 minutes based on the washing machine timer, until Z came and sat on the pile of lights beside me and started chatting away. Not in an annoying way, but not in a quiet way either. Asking her cute questions like what are you doing mom? Oh I’ll sit to! What time until my friends come over? What time is it now? How much longer until that time? Oh that’s my blanket in the wash. Oh there goes my shirt. Hey that’s my blanket again. And so it went a stream of endless questions.

So I just settled in and answered her questions as patiently and as detailed as I could. Knowing that this knowledge is the basis of the rest of her life. These questions are empty space in her mind and the answers I give her are building bridges in her mind. I can’t do my kids wrong because my mind is messed up and overloaded with stress. I want to make sure my kids don’t have faulty connections that start to break down as they get older like their dad and I have struggled with. I want them to have strong knowledge and minds that hold them through their life. Our being here in life is so much more than meets the physical eye and I have to do my best to not only heal past hurt on my part so it doesn’t trickle down to them, but also help create new bridges and connections in those newly formed spaces that previously held nothing or damaged things. So I take my time. I answer questions with peace and strong lasting knowledge and hope that what I help create in them has a loving, beautiful and lasting effect. That can pass down through generations to come.

Whether or not my brain can handle seeing it.

-Post Malone Ft. Young Thug / Goodbyes-

Shawty Said The Ni**a That She With Ain’t Shit / Call Me So I Can Come And Prove It To You

So bar boy came over again. Two weekends in a row. And you know what. It was nice. Really nice. His dick is still too big and that part is annoying, but the part of having someone in my bed holding me throughout the night and waking up to morning sex and the intimacy part where he is so considerate of what I need and how I respond to his touch… that part is what I’ve been missing for too long. Just good old fashion guy with girl beauty. In bed talking and touching and being with someone. I need that in my life so much. My love language is definitely touch and feel and to be alone for so long has been very draining on me on such a deep level. I thought I’d be ok just having my one night stands and getting what I needed that way, but that was ultimately more draining than fulfilling and probably let me worse off than before.

So I got in touch with army guy (I know I know to many guys) from a few summers back who I never actually slept with but for some reason we got along fairly well. At least well enough that I didn’t sleep with him (because our conversations were so good) that I told him straight up that I was in love with K and there was no way we’d end up together. I know I’m so messed up, if I have feelings for a guy I don’t sleep with them? I’m backwards. So anyways army guy and I have a 5 minute chat every 4-5 months just to keep in touch and so I asked him his opinion on the following since he’s a guy I can just be honest with.

How do you tell a dude his dick is to big, but you still wanna keep him around for everything else? C he said, if you tell a guy that, he’s not going to be offended, but he’s not going to want to come just to hold you and stroke your hair. You gotta learn how to take a dick.

Annnnnnd yet another reason I never slept with him, our conversations were honest, but he was an ass. Ok. For starters. I can take hella dick. It’s when it feels like it’s gonna break a rib or trying to give you CPR and restart your heart with each thrust that I have no interest in it anymore. I like sex to be pleasurable, not feel like I have to wiggle away each time he humps me because I’m feeling like it’s hitting a brick wall inside and going to break me.

The thing is, I don’t want to fault bar boy for being so well endowed and sweet. Like he texts me everyday to say good morning and ask me how I’m doing on top of the caring vibe I got from him while he was around. Don’t worry I’m not catching feelings. Like I have zero interest in this guy long term. He already told me he’s only in town until December, which is probably why I felt comfortable enough to have him around in the first place. I knew there were boundaries from the get go. I knew it wouldn’t have a catch to turn serious, so I felt safe. I told you I’m broke 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m not interested in getting attached to anyone anymore. I’ve been through enough heartache, but a girls gotta get her bed rocked WAY more often than I have been and as much as I fooled around with my toys every so often, it’s not the same for me and I don’t get the same enjoyment out of them as I do real sex. I like to be touched. I like to be tasted. I like to be pushed past my limits and I can’t do that to myself. I like to be kissed and held. Oh my god I like to be kissed. And held.

So here’s my lame dilemma. Do I risk telling him his dick is uncomfortably large, and have him stay away, losing out on the only enjoyable male companionship I’ve had in over a year? Or possibly yes I tell him and he decides that for the next few months he’d rather want my company with no sex but still everything else. Do you think he’d still stroke my hair until I fell asleep? Do you think he would sleep over and not expect sex. Or should I just keep it as is and awkwardly wiggle away each time he shoves his massively huge cock in my apparently small tight pussy, in order to keep the other benefits until December?

Like I said, it’s a lame dilemma, but a choice I need to make nonetheless.

So blogging word… recommendations?

-Lil Wayne/Lollipop-