JULIEANNE said:

WOW ELLE YOU ARE SUCH A WONDERFUL TRUSTING PERSON--REMEMBER WHEN EL CAPITAN KEPT TELLING YOU THAT HE WAS NOT WITH HER ,THAT HE DID NOT BETRAY YOU-THAT IT IS NOT LIKE THAT----AND THEN YOU GO SEE WHERE HE SLEEPS WITH HER-----GGRRRRR-WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF--HE IS A LIAR AND A CHEATER HE IS NOT A FATHER AT ALL--HE LEFT HIS CHILDREN FOR A 22 YEAR OLD KID----HE IS NOT WITH THEM 24/7 LIKE HE SHOULD BE ---HE TOOK THE EASY ROAD AND LEFT THEM WITHOUT A FATHER SO THAT HE COULD PLAY WITH HIS NEW TOY -AND SOON HE WILL HAVE NEW KIDS WITH HER ,WILL BUY HER A HOUSE AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER AND YOU AND YOUR KIDS STILL WILL BE LIVING WITH SOMEONE ELSE AND STILL BE THE FAMILY HE DID NOT WANT AND THE FAMILY HE THREW AWAY BECAUSE HE DID NO WANT THEM ANY MORE--HE WANTED TO DO WHAT HE AND YOGA GIRL WANTED TO DO--REGARDLESS OF HIS RESPONSABILITIES----WHAT A GEM HE IS -THE BASTARD-----ELLE HE IS THE WORST ROLE MODEL FOR YOUR KIDS---DID YOU EVER FIND OUT WHY HE KEPT SAYING OVER AND OVER HE WAS NOT HAVING AN AFFAIR AND NOT SLEEPING WITH HER WHILE YOUR CAR WAS PARKED BY HER HOUSE AND DID YOU EVER FIND OUT WHY HE DID THOSE THINGS TO YOUR CAR AND WHY HE DID NOT KEEP UP WITH THE VISITING DAYS AS STIPULATED BY THE DIVORCE-----WHY DID HE LIE TO YOU ALL THE TIME----I CRY EVERY TIME I THINK ABOUT YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT FROM TARGET OH MY GOD WHAT A SLAP ON THE FACE THAT WAS----AND WHY SO MANY THOUSANDS OF TEXT MESSAGES DID YOU EVER FIND OUT WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT=====WHO OR WHY WOULD DO THAT---BY THE WAY HOW DID HE MEET YOGA GIRL---DOES HE HAVE COLLEGE AGE FRIENDS NOW---DOES HE PARTY ALL NIGHT LIKE THEY DO---WOW WHAT A PSYCHO CASE HE IS----STAY AWAY AND KEEP YOUR KIDS AWAY FROM THIS PSYCOPATH, HE IS HEARTLESS AND I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU PROTECT HIM AND HER WHEN THEY ARE THE ADULTERS AND THE ONES WHO DID WRONG-----LET THEM BE KNOWN AND SHOW THEIR PICTURES----YOU ARE NOT THE ONE WHO DID WRONG, THEY ARE THE GUILTY ONES------STOP PROTECTING THEM THEY DESERVE EACH OTHER--HE KNEW HE WAS COMMITING ADULTERY AND SHE KNEW HE WAS MARRIED,BUT THEY WENT AHEAD AND BETRAYED YOU KNOWING VERY WELL HOW THEY WOULD HURT YOU AND NOT REALLY WORRIED ABOUT IT------I KNOW EL CAPITAN KNEW YOU WOULD REACT THE WAY YOU DID AND GIVE HIM AS MANY PASSES AS HE NEED IT TO GET AWAY SCOTT FREE AND GUILT FREE-----HE KNOWS YOU BETTER THAN YOU KNEW HIM,,,,,,HE WALKED AWAY WITH YOUR BLESSINGS........"

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Wow.  Julieanne..... right between the eyes friend..... right between the eyes.
And... rightly so.

You are not the first person to write me an email/blog comment similar to this one.  

Sadly..... as Jenny B and Miss J would happily sit and tell you..... there's a lot more El Capitan has done that has *not* been posted on The Blog.  A LOT.  :(

When I was a little girl my favorite song was the Tea Pot song:  "I'm a little tea-pot, short and stout.  Here is my handle, here is my spout.  When I get all steamed up, here me SHOUT.  Tip me over and pour me out."

Writing The Book was my way of tipping myself over and pouring it all out..... I just writing and pouring and writing...... until I was empty.  That book is literally soaked with my own tears.... and you know what - I never read it. lol

Seriously.  I wrote it.  I chose certain friends for certain reasons - and they were all sent various portions or chapters.  I asked them to read it and tell me what it needed - was there something not explained?  Something I over explained?  Etc...... For the most part - the book is, essentially a first draft that was edited and printed.
Done.

I actually hadn't read it until the night of my book signing- and even *I* was caught off-guard by how much pain dripped off the pages and fell right smack into my lap.
Pages..... just dripping with pain and anger and tears......

Carhartt is trying to read The Book - they read The Blog every day..... lol.  However,  The Book is proving to be a lot of anger and pain for them to try and process..... which leads Carhartt to asking me some of the same questions that Julieanne asks above.

The truth is..... I kind of blocked a lot of that out of my mind..... I had forgotten about the scene outside the hotel with El Capitan and The Boy..... and reading the words above, I was instantly sitting back in the drivers seat of the Mazda 5, starting at El Capitan in disbelief..... and my heart swells with pain.
Instantly.

Just like that..... my little tea-pot self is full to steaming..... 
sigh.

F*ck..... of course I worry about what *really* goes on at their place.
Of course I realize that they *WILL* have kids of their own..... El Capitan say's no... but I'm smarter than that.  I know that they will get a house and build a whole new family.... and chances are:  my kids will be more on the outside looking in than living on the inside......

I f*cking know this...... and it sucks.

I remember vividly my sh*tty birthday AND the year that El Capitan actually *forgot* to get me *anything* for Christmas - AT. ALL.  I'm dead serious.  I got ONE present:  a Snoop Dogg CD.  And yes... before you ask, I do love some Snoop... however, a $12 CD wasn't really the present I was expecting under the tree when we'd been married for 7 years.  None of this is lost on me.

I have long believed that El Capitan did what he did knowing that I would 'do the right thing'.... that, while I am an *amazing* b*tch..... I always do the right thing.  He left... knowing his TV and video games and clothes and general stuff was safe.

He knew I would take care of the children.
He knew I would take care of the paperwork.
He knew I would be fair.
He knew I would sell our home.
He knew I would DO. IT. ALL.

It's a sick irony that the very same *strength* I used to get those things done - to make it through it all dragging two broken and crying children with me to the other side.... is the *very* strength that El Capitan found so emasculating during our marriage.
Sigh.

So, I realize that El Capitan got a pass.
and..... I know that I'm the person who gave it to him.

But what f*cking choice do I have exactly?  
How motherf*cking long do I have to live in the shadow of this pain - hiding from life and love and happiness?

After The Book and after Christmas where we didn't see El Capitan for what.... 5 or 6 weeks?  Where he didn't show up for Christmas.... that was kind of emotional rock bottom for me.  

After that, it was time to strap one on and climb out of that whole and start over.
I had to.
The kids needed me too.

Julieanne - you make some really valid points - and I know that there is a longer email where you share some pretty horrible stories about what happened with your kids.....but, you and I both know that The Court doesn't give a sh*t.

The Court isn't going to make him pick-up his kids and they aren't going to slap his wrists when he doesn't pick them up.  Unless he's feeding them hard drugs and alcohol or beating on them.... they aren't going to change anything.

If *I* tell him no.... then I'm the one in legal trouble.  I'm the one who pays the price with a Judge if I fail to follow our order.... not him.

Do I worry that we will a return of El Capitan of last summer.... hell yeah.
Do I worry what kind of 'role model' he is....? 
Of course.

But.  At the same time...... in that place between being angry and staying angry.... and living - I had to move towards living.   I had to ...because honestly, it felt like parts of me were dying.

So I moved slowly ... very slowly - towards moving on.  Learning not to forgive, but .... let go.
Then I worked on tolerating La Novia.
Then I worked on accepting her.

I don't have any other choice..... and honestly...... perhaps I'm wrong (thought I pray I'm not) - I don't think that La Novia does or say's things to them that are.... 'bad' or 'manipulative'.  She seems to do things with them to genuinely connect with them on their level.  

Sometimes... we're not bad people:  we're just people who make bad choices.

In the mean time, I'm still loving on those two kids as MUCH as I humanly can.... but soon I have to go to work full time.  Blogging and Photography do not pay very well, they don't come with medical benefits and retirements and such..... so, I'm trying to enjoy these last few months of not having to work full time before I have too..... 

I do tend to try to pain our life, both to myself and to others, in a positive way - because I can either walk down the road of negativity or hope...... As the mother of two children: I have to chose hope.
I have to be willing to trust and try and *hope* that everyone will do the right thing... that the children will remain the forward focus of every adult involved in their life.  And..... it's my job to help them develop the emotional tools they will need in their lives to deal with people who let them down..... 

In the mean time, The Girl still adores her Dad.... and I refuse to take that away from her.  For as long as she can hold onto the idea that her Daddy is a great guy who has done nothing wrong... I'm going to let her hold onto that.  If El Capitan's actions take that way eventually:  that's on me.
It won't be on me.

And who knows.... may be that won't happen.

I take each day as it comes, I wake up with hope, I try to have trust - I try to have patience and.... even through the weight of my past is there pressing down me - I try to move forward and make choices based on possibilities and potential ..... and hope.

Because, to be honest - the only thing between anger .... and living:  is hope.  Is the willingness to *have* hope and act in hope and move forward in love.... I'll let you know how that goes. lol

Tonight while I was writing this post, I found out on facebook that one of my senior clients lost their Mom tonight to a very long and painful battle with Cancer.  What a way to spend the end of your first year of college - right?  :(.............

I don't know if what I'm doing is right or wrong..... I read books, I talk to people.  I talk to professional people and other wives and husbands and kids who have lived through this and I try to piece together what's the best plan of action for each and every situation...... but knowing that *this* Mom's journey is over and she leaves behind two kids who's weddings she will miss, who's college graduation she won't be attending - and NOT because their Dad was a cheating ass who 'ruined her life' decades earlier... but because she's dead.

See.... living in anger is the same thing:  death.

I want to have hope.  I want to live.  I want to laugh and love and .... be happy.  Because unlike my client's Mom:  I CAN.  and thank f*ck for that.
Seriously.

I'm still here.... and who knows for how long - right?
Yes... I know that El Capitan did some really sh*tty things.... but you can either be buried by it - or use it as fertilizer and let your flowers grow instead..... no matter what - I'm going to fight to grow.  Period.

Yes... it gives "them" a pass..... but more importantly  it give *ME* a pass.  A pass to be with Carhartt and see where that goes because I'm able to trust (kind of... lololol) - and move forward.... and it gives my kids a pass to have their Dad for *as long* as they can...... 

It gives us all a pass.... and I'm extremely grateful for that tonight.
Now I'm off to snuggle my babies until they wake up in the morning.... 

They always say that you find out 'who your friends are' when the really bad things happen to you in your life. I suppose that is probably true - but.... I have to be honest and admit that, for the most part, my friends and family are kind of awesome all the time, which is something I'm incredibly grateful for.

Growing up we lived in LA - and I spent a lot of time with my cousin Jim.  Jim was a bit older than me and it wasn't long before he was waaaaaaay older.  I was still all Barbie's and Pretty Ponies and he was flipping through VW Beetle magazines and arguing with his Dad over getting his license.

As a kid I had little understanding of the idea that one didn't marry their first cousin- unless of course they are a member of the Royal Family or living in Texas (it's legal there... did you know that?) - so.... *I* really wanted to grow up and marry Jim.  

Jim was a California surfer boy through and through with his floppy brown hair and year-round tanned skin.... he was my idea of *dreamy*.    

Sadly..... Jim didn't grow up to marry me - he married Natalie instead.  They had a *wonderful* Boy of their own, almost the same age as mine.  I've only met Natalie a few times, and really only once before El Capitan left.  

However, after I posted on Facebook that El Capitan had cheated and we were getting divorced, Natalie was one of the first people to text me.  She texted me in the morning to see how I slept - give me encouraging words for the day.  She would send me funny jokes and say dirty, nasty things about El Capitan and La Novia in an attempt to make me laugh.  

Then at night - when most people were busy with putting kids to bed and spending time with their own husbands (understandable... lol) - Natalie would be there texting me to see how I was.

It was truly amazing to me that she would make time for me in her day - never forgetting about me and what I was going through.  She was my cheerleader and a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on.... only a text away.    So... yeah - needless to say, I was kind of getting over the fact that she married my "future husband". lol

Last week Natalie posted the photos above ..... her car had been broken into in the parking lot of the school she works at.  Worst of all - Her Boy was there and saw the damage and was having nightmares that night about people breaking in and taking their stuff.  :(

Heartbreaking.

Natalie's purse and allllll of it's contents:  money, gift cards, etc.... was all gone.  Not to mention the expense of having to replace the busted out window.  She was distraught.  I was instantly heartbroken for both of them... what a violating thing for her son to see.

Now.... back up to TWO weeks ago and I was straightening up the garage where some of our stuff is .... ummm artfully stuffed. lolol..... it's supposed to be the "stuff" I thought we would "need", so it didn't go to storage, but it selfishly takes up one half of a two car garage (you don't know want to know how big the storage unit is that the kids and I have... holy f*ck it's massive.  sigh....)

Anyhow - it was all leaning and toppling over so I went out there to sort through some of it and keep it form falling over and I found a lot of stuff I had forgotten about, which was funny because I remember keeping ALLLLLL this stuff:  it was important!  We needed it!  

and yet.... most if it I haven't looked at - haven't even *thought* about it for a months now. 
Those are some *serious* First World Problems right there.

One of the bags I found had a collection of sweatshirts and scarves and a purse - that had all been hanging on the back of our front door.  When I first looked in the bag, it smarted just a little bit.  The Girls' Hello Kitty sweatshirt, The Boy's Skeleton sweatshirt.... markers of a time gone by - a time that existed *before* we became a family living in Two Houses. 

Whether *I'm* happier now or not.... is irrelevant.  It's hard to think about that time - when the kids world was whole and happy and without 'divorce'..... it was a shock to my system to open that back and suddenly be standing back on my living room and seeing those sweatshirts hanging on that back our family's front door.  

Also in the bag was a black Coach bag that I had carried at the time.  I hadn't had it long - so I pulled it out of the bag in the garage and it was still practically brand new.   I loved that bag.... but I tucked it back into the plastic bag with the too-small sweatshirts and placed it on top of a few boxes.  

Jenny-Jen-Jen bought me a Thirty One purse for our LA trip in August, and I usually just carry that now.... 

So... move back up a week to Natalie's post, the first thing I thought about when I saw her car window smashed in and her read that her purse was stolen .... was that *I* had the perfect purse to send her.

The next day I took my purse to the mail place and boxed it up to send to Natalie, but it wouldn't get there in time for Mother's Day - so I posted a picture on facebook for her to see what was on it's way.

I didn't really think about it - I mean I didn't really need the purse, I have one.  I wasn't using it - and it's awful pretty... too pretty to sit, forgotten about in my garage.  

I was expecting it.... but that same person who had been there for me allllllll those months.  All those texts she took the time to send - those were minutes out of every single day - minutes that she spent thinking about ME - praying for me - being there for me.... she gave me soooooo much of her Mommy time and her Wife time and her Working time..... every day.

She was always there for me with her time and her words and her feelings..... all I did was put a purse in a box and ship it to her.... and yet, the next text I got from her said:

"I'm crying too much to text..... thank you."

Turns out.... Natalie had never owned a Coach bag.  WHAT?
Now.... *that's* a First World Problem for sure... lololol and one I was *happy* to fix for her.  

Then she texted me this:  "Wait... do I have to trade you Jim for the purse?  I'm not saying I won't be willing, I just want to know first."
lol

Needless to say - Carhartt isn't easily replaceable.... and of course, I'm fully aware now that one doesn't marry their first cousin - but I thought it was sweet of Natalie to offer. 

There are soooooo many lessons I have learned in the last year - not the least of which is that *things* don't mean anything.  Things are just things.... they fill up a storage unit and clutter our minds .... it's just *stuff*.  People are what matter - people who have been there for us and will be there for us - they matter.  I can't afford to buy Natalie a new Coach purse, or replace her stolen money or cards..... I think it's very kind of her to accept a used Coach bag and be so f*cking excited about it that she posted on facebook tonight that she just keeps holding and stroking the bag 'because it's so pretty'. lololol

Woman and purses..... lol

There will always be more things..... but there won't always be more people in our lives who we can trust and lean on and find support in.  My purse was only a teeny-tiny token of alllll that I owe Natalie.
Even if she did steal my 'future husband'...... lol :)

I realize that I've been a bit quiet on the topic of Carhartt as of late.... mostly because I don't really know what to say.... I know:  it's shocking to think that I don't know what to say. 
But it's true.

Dating with kids is sooooo much different than dating without kids.  In the first place - on a good I'm lucky if I can shower, put on my make-up and do my hair.... but usually I can pick just one - I certainly don't have time to do all three.  So.... I've been doing my best to *try* and do as many of the above as I can.... but I have to admit that on some days I just pull on my generously cut Old-Navy shirt (the cleanest one of course) - and hope that Carhartt is distracted by the little cleavage I do have and ignores the rest. lol

For the most part:  this seems to be working.

At the same time, it's nice to have someone in my life for whom I *want* to try and look nice for.... I've kind of been excited about that.... that and the fact that I'm not well over 60 pounds lighter than I used to be and am now shopping in the regular section of Old Navy.... bring on the $6 t shirts!!!!!!  (Mommy Translation:  more cheap shirts = a f*ck load less laundry I have to do.)

It's a bit unfair that all Carhartt has to do is pull on some dusty brown Carhartt pants, a t-shirt and I'm alllll kinds of swooning.  Although, I pointed out how nice they looked in black (makes those red eyes kind of pop.... you know - gotta' get my Cullen Clan on... hahahaha) - and since then I've seen various types of Carhatt/Hanes/Dickies black shirts making the rotation.
Whatever.... Carhartt looks good in pretty much anything.

Carhartt lives several hours away, so we pretty much only get to see each other on the weekends - and with the kids and whatnot.... they usually come up here:  Carhartt and Luke the Dog.  It works out pretty well because El Capitan has the kids on Saturday afternoons, The Bubbie and The Papa pull babysitting duty on Saturday night (so we can go out for dinner or dancing and stuff) and then we spend Sunday with the kids together..... but poor Luke the Dog is tired of driving and sleeping on hotel floors.... so Carhartt is looking for work closer to Portland now.  

It sounds like a "big step"... which I suppose it kind of is, however.... Portland has more job opportunities AND, I was quick to point out - that when Carhartt tires of me, there are no shortage of eligible ladies to take my place...... to which Carhartt shoots me a dirty look and say's, "Woman, you better stop it with that sh*t."

It's that kind of cute..... of course, it's said in a stern way, but not in a super serious cave-man way either... lol

But honestly..... being a Mom means you have zero privacy on a good day, being a *dating* Mom means you have LESS than zero privacy.  There's almost no opportunity for 'stolen' kisses and cuddles in the kitchen without someone's tiny feet peeling out on the linoleum because The Girl 'ran out of Goldfish....'.... or better yet, there *is* a chance for a stolen kiss and just about the time I get used to someone's arms wrapped around my waist ...... we both hear.... "moooommmmeeeeee... I'm doooooneeee....".  And the next thing I know I'm leaned over someone's poopy butt on wiping duty.
Sigh.

Dating with kids is waaaaaaay not romantic.
Why?
Because everyf*ckingwhere you look there are reminders of *what* is going to happen if you crawl into bed together.... know what I mean?

When you're dating and it's all hot and heavy and romantic and dreamy.... you can *kid* yourself into thinking that life will be this fantastic journey where you have perfect and well-behaved children who go to bed on time and grow up to be healthy adults with good paying jobs (who move out) and you'll grow old together holding hands on a front porch swing.

Date me and the reality is that I have two *very* well-behaved kids, who have amazing comic timing and *sh*tty* romantic timing.... I LIVE with family... no matter *who* marries me down the road they aren't just marrying me - but they are also getting two kids, El Capitan AND La Novia in the mix..... they are getting shared time and pick-ups and drop-offs and child support payments and co-parenting in two households with three people..... 

Oh.... and I should be ashamed to admit this.... but the truth of the matter is that a friend bought me that book, "Go The F*ck to Sleep" - because they thought I would find it funny.... which I did:  it's hilarious.  However.... I have to be honest and admit I've muttered that very phrase more than once at 11pm.... Dating me is more a practice in why safe sex is necessary and less a romantic experience.

In any case:  you get the idea.
This is *not* a case where one gets a lot of opportunity to 'dream' of what could be - because it already is.... AND... I can't give Carhartt any more kids.

This is something I struggle with *a LOT*.  Carhartt say's it fine that they weren't 'sold' on having any 'biological' kids, but that they like kids and would like to have a family and they are "fine" with that being "my" family and nothing more.  I'm not so sure.... babies are kind of magic.  I explained this to Carhartt - that babies are magic and YOUR baby is really really magic.... and Carhartt say's that babies are also boring, cry too much and wear diapers.

Carhartt doesn't do diapers.
Good to know. lol

Carhartt say's that The Boy and The Girl are perfect because they are great kids who are well-behaved, who adore Luke the Dog and are the perfect age for camping and fire building and fishing and hiking and looking for night-crawlers......which is 'the dream' for Carhartt.
Even still.... I feel bad.

I think it's just hard to know that decisions you made in your last relationship will affect your current one in a way that you can't change.  I hate that.....

Any life with me is going to involve someone else....
Someone else's mistakes
Someone else's children
someone else's opinion about the care of those children

I think it's a lot to ask someone to take all of that... and sometimes, I wonder if it's even fair.  The kids always have to come first..... their needs, their wants, their education, their well-being.... their kisses, their cuddles.... and I wonder if the role was reversed, would I be okay with that?  

Carhartt tells me that I think too much - may be... may be......
In the mean time, though, I'm just trying to be still, be happy, be grateful that the kids and I have someone in our life who brings us joy and happiness and red roses on Mother's Day..... and who takes the kids for a walk in the rain on Mother's Day because I just needed five minutes to finish cooking.  Someone who had to carry The Girl all the way back to the house because she broke down crying and was too tired to walk anymore.... AND - Carhartt didn't complain... instead, they just stood in the kitchen, still a bit damp, holding The Girl while she calmed down.

I think that was the best present I got on Mother's Day... an extra pair of hands to help me, an extra set of arms to carry The Girl... a hand to hold mine.  
May be it's just for today.... and tomorrow and the day next... or more... whatever it is:  I'm grateful.

For the most part, I get pretty nice email or messages from people.  Lots of people write and use words like "inspiring" or brave or whatever.... but I don't usually share them because that seems a bit obnoxious.


I'm a b*tch who was unknowingly in an unhappy marriage and got cheated on... I made a funny sign to sell our home.... and we all know the rest.  While I'm humbled by the idea that some people are positively affected by my willingness to share my story - and it's very, very wonderful to think I've helped people...... I *personally* wouldn't use words like "inspiring".... but that's just me.


Believe or not, I *have* actually shared the negative comments.  
Well... ok - so when comments come in, it display's an IP Address for who sent them.  There have been a few occasions where *really* nasty comments came up with a very local IP Address and I suspected it was someone who knew us or what friends with La Novia/El Capitan and in that case I don't post those because I want to avoid creating more problems among us.


But.... I only have one friend in sweet Canada - hi Emma!  - What's up with me and Canada?

Honestly..... lol

Today this wee gem came in:

Kat said:
I lost count of how many times you said "f*ck/f*cking/boof*ckingya". First, everyone knows you're saying "fucking". Why censor it? Are 6-year-olds reading your blog? Secondly, when you say it at that frequency, it makes you look vulgar and not very smart.

In the first place..... I checked the IP address and found it was only a FEW DIGITS off of Ms. Posits.... and that they both live in the same town in Canada......
Sigh.

Be as insulting as you want but how *fucking* high school to have your friends do it or use your friends computer.... lololol.  It's like getting my house tee-peed.  hahahahaha

"Kat" is no the first person in my life to point out that *I*....... have a potty mouth.  At this point, and at my age - I think it's fair to say that I have *more* than a potty - I think the whole motherf*cking bathroom is in there, frankly.
Someone pass the bleach mouthwash please. hahahaha

I have, over the years, considered not swearing -either at all, or not as much.
Then I thought..... f*ck it.

Just the other day Carhartt pointed out that I'm the first person they have EVER met who can literally take *any* ordinary word and turn it into a swear word by inserting the word 'f*ck'..... and how coming out of *most* people it would be offensive... but when I say it:  it's cute and funny.
Clearly... we're still in that "honeymoon" phase.... hahahahaha

Regardless.... it's true.  I say f*ck and I say it *alot*.... and Dear Kat.... I don't care.
Not a little.
Not a lot.
Not at all.

In fact, I interviewed Beth Orton once - we did pictures for a magazine cover on a rooftop then we did an interview in the tour bus.  During the interview she mentioned that one of the guys in the band was *always* bringing back a new girl after every show and shagging them in his bunk on the bus.  A tour bus is *small* quarters - where the bunks are two high and three long and face each other with curtains at each bed that are your *only* privacy.

I remember asking her if she cared that he did that - and she replied.... "Do I f*ck.....?"
It was absolutely the *most* creative way anyone has ever said 'no' to me in my life...... it was brilliant and I have used that line in as many conversations as I can since 1997.  

And then.... there's always Dexter's sister - Deborah Morgan - who say's f*ck like a thousand times in an episode.... she's kind of my hero.  Her and House.  Yup.... that pretty much sums me up. lol

What people don't usually know and understand about me is that while I'm confident, I'm not really arrogant.  I don't think I'm smarter than other people or that I know more than other people .... and I'm not above someone pointing out something about me that I need to work on or improve.... so, even thought I suspect that Kat's words come from another place:  they still gave me pause.

Am I vulgar?

F*ck yeah I am..... that is sure as sh*t true to say..... and I could give a sh*t.

What is vulgar.... the use of offensive language?
In the first place.... don't be my friend if you find it at all o-f*cking-ffensive that I swear.
Done.

In the second place ..... you *might* want to evaluate how much f*cking time you have on your hands to go to a blog and read it enough times to *know* just how many f*cks are on each page.... (for the record, there are less than 65 forms of f*ck in 300 pages in The Book - I thought I did pretty well there..... )
Why are you here?

*You* have the power to hit that little red 'X' in the top right corner of the screen (top left on a MAC) - and if you're too stupid to figure out that you have the power to read and not read whatever the f*ck you want - then you're clearly too stupid to *be* vulgar.

Believe me..... you assume my use of curse words is a sign of my ill-educated mind.... but I can assure you that one has to be well educated and have a firm grasp on the English language to be able to pepper it with fbombs..... I'm like a Master F*cking Vernacular Chef of sorts.

Finally..... as the button (recently purchased for me by a GOOD friend!) - clearly states.... See All The F*cks I Give.....?  Exactly.

I find *a lot * of things vulgar.... starting with stupid people.
Then closely followed by ... husbands who cheats, women who sleep with married men, people using their kids against in each in a divorce, rape.... incest, drunk driving, theft, bullying, racism, bigotry.... just generally being an a$$whole.

Those *things* are vulgar... and yet they happen *all* the time... and we excuse them.

Oh.... his wife was a real bitch - she got fat.... you can't blame him for leaving.....
Oh... she's young and doesn't know better.....

If Tommy Jr. undertands what a douche his Dad is - he'll grow up to be better than his Father.....

That guy is such a "fag"......
Are you a 'dot head Indian' or 'the feather' kind?  (I actually heard that TWO WEEKS ago. sigh)

People are vulgar allllllll around us, everyday .... and we let is slide.  We excuse it, we explain it, we dismiss it -
we let our friends leave the party when we *know* they've had too much drink because we don't want to argue with them......

Who cares if I write a little blog and say f*ck a lot?
Not me.  See above for all the f*cks I give.

Seriously.


One of my very bestest friend, Miss J - called me in complete annoyance because *her* little boy had said "fuck" at preschool.  Miss J is a *great* Mom.  They eat mostly organic - she doesn't pull thru McDonalds to get her kids a smoothie... no that b*tch pulls out her fancy-a$$ blender and makes those bad boys FROM f*cking SCRATCH!!!!  She has cupboards with those magnetic locks on them.  She cloth diapered and buys hemp clothing and *never* swears in front of her kids.... who all, incidently, have a strict bedtime and they never, ever co-sleep.  


The Boy had no bedtime.  Ate food from Wal-Mart and smoothies from McDonalds and was the proud owner of thousands of Pampers that he sh*t in.


Oh.... and his Mommy has a potty mouth which she has *never ever* hid from him.  Period.


She called to say that she *could not* believe that *her* kid was coming home with a note from preschool about having said f*ck during Choice Time.... and she wanted to know how it was possible that The Boy had never cursed at school.


I explained that from a *very* young age I told The Boy that he was free to use adult words, but that if he did, he wouldn't have friends.  Other parents would hear him talk and not let their children play with him.  I told him that people would judge him for using those words and that, in the end, he would wish he hadn't used them.


So.... he never has.  Poor kid thinks "idiot" and "dumb" are bad words. lol 


The truth of the matter is- we are *not* putting enough value on OUR collective behavior... but we *do* put a  lot of value on our words.  We can show rape and murder and untold amounts of violence on TV.... but say f*ck at all - or sh*t before 9pm.... and you'll get an FCC fine.


Really?


Last time I checked - no one was harmed in the making of this blog - no matter how many f*cks I write.... and yet, dozens of people are *harmed* by other people's actions while I sit here and write this... and later while you sit and read it.


I'm honest.
I don't really give a f*ck.
I have a potty mouth.... big whoop.


I'm also a good person.
I got over my sh*t and have dragged this family to a better place.... even if it was over broken glass and I swore the entire way there..... I got here.
and yeah..... boof*ckingyah to me.
Seriously.


Do you know how many people don't make it here?
How many people give in to their anger?
Give in to their fears?
.... never move forward.


If you don't like how I've done it.... that's totally cool with me.  
If my fbombs bug you.... then guess what:  you're probably not my kind of person.
and again... please refer above to see just how many f*cks I give.  
lololololol


We live in a country where we no longer know our neighbors, where our kids spend more time texting and sexting than they do *connecting* with real family and friends who will carry them through their hard times.... we are *literally* killing each other in movie theaters and on the streets of New Orleans at a Mother's Day Parade.... THAT IS VULGAR.

I'd rather listen to someone's potty mouth alll day long than deal with that sh*t.
Bring on the Andrew Dice Clay.
Bring on Lisa Lampanelli.

I don't need to be not vulgar.
I don't give a sh*t if you or anyone else thinks I'm educated or not.....

I have to be a good Mom.
I have to find a way to support us.
I have to find a way to move us forward.
I have to make two happy families out of one.
I have to forgive.
I have to be tolerant.
I have to accept.

I have done those things and speaking frankly..... the rest of my little family is the better for it.
Did we say f*ck a lot along the way......?
Yup.... sure did.

Did it hold me back?  Nope.
Did it change anything?  Nope.
and because of that.... I wouldn't change me.

This is me.
This is how I process things.
This *is* how I talk.....

Again- red X - find it and move on. :)

For those who also don't care.... I hope you had an awesome f*cking Mother's Day.
Carhartt got me red roses and took me out for dinner..... swoon. :)

The kids asked La Novia to draw me a beautiful Mother's Day card with they signed inside.... and she did.

Yup... you read that right:  La Novia made the Mother's Day card my children gave me.
.... and I love it.  

I *love* that the children feel confident and *comfortable* enough in ALL our connected relationships  that they can ASK La Novia to draw my mother's day card.  There is so much personal and collective success in that statement.  I'm incredibly proud of that card and allllllll that it represents for me.

I took the kids to the jewelry store and The Girl picked out earrings for La Novia for Mother's Day.... which The Girl was very excited to give her.

One year....... it's been one year.

I think that, in spite of wether or not I'm educated or vulgar or.... whatever:  I'm doing something right.
At least.... I'm doing things right for *my* family.

And.... to that end, there are a thousand ways to get this wrong - so if I'm willing to be open enough and brave enough to share this journey because people say it helps them.... then I will do it.
But I can only do it as *me* - and this is me.... f*cks and all. :)

Happy F*cking Mother's Day!!!!!
I hope yours was as awesome as mine! :)

Carhartt took this picture of the kids over the weekend:  my little photo bombers.  We were trying to get a picture of just us..... but the kids kept running behind us and popping up..... 

Today I got the following blog comment:

Wow.  You go away to the beach for a few days, have spotty reception and limited internet (ok.... the house *had* wifi - but I really just wanted to spend time with the people I was there with....) but we get home today and my facebook feed is flooded with the new of Amanda Berry and the other women in the house in Cleveland.

As a woman, the first thing I think about is what kind of awful, horrible sexual things those women were subjected too.... let's face it:  people don't kidnap woman because they want to sit up late night play Farkle and discussing their feelings.
Sigh.

Secondly, I was immediately grateful they were found - and instantly said a small prayer that Desiree Horman, Kyron Horman's Mother, might one day get a similar call... that he is still alive.

So coming home I started looking up all the youtube's and videos and stories about what had happened.  Naturally everyone on facebook is talking about Charles Ramsey - the African American neighbor who saw Amanda Berry pleading for help and so he helped her get the bottom of the front door open enough for her and a small child (assumed to be hers) - out of the house.

Once you find his story, you find lots and lots of others - many neighbors telling stories of seeing women in "dog chains", naked and being beaten in the back yard (once by a young woman and a younger child and another time by three older ladies).  It's stated that several neighbors *saw* these things, called the police and nothing ever happened......

One man keenly points out that the cops will break down the doors of a home for $5 of drugs - but not for a human life......
Double sigh.

When I was a kid, living in Seattle, my Mom started the "Helping Hand" in our neighborhood.  Her and some other Moms made large wood signs that were painted black with large red hand prints painted on them.  Throughout the neighborhood, various houses who agreed, would put them up in their front windows.  We were all taught that if *anyone* bothered us, or a car was suspicious  that *these* homes - The Red Hand Homes - were "safe".  We could go to them and they would open their doors, no questions asked and that they could be trusted to help us.  (I'm sure there was a larger movement for these Red Hand things.... I doubt The Bubbie came up with it on her own... though- we all know how good she is at making signs. lol)

Anyhow... these days - would anyone really do that?  
Aren't we all too afraid of being sued or something?
I only ask... because it doesn't seem like anyone is doing it - and since *more* kids go missing now than in the 80s.... wouldn't it be a good thing to bring back?

But... you know what - we won't.  

We won't because not enough of us will step the f*ck up and be *willing* to take responsibility for someone else's child.  We don't want to 'poke our nose in'.  We don't want to get caught up in someone else's drama.  We just want to keep walking...... 

Aside from that - I think that the saddest part of it all is the part that the media and facebook are heralding as the most amusing, which is Charles Ramsey's account of the rescue.  His plain, step-by-step explanation - both humorous and humble - is getting him tons of air time.  He's very amusing, has great timing and .... thankfully - was the kind of person to step up and help Amanda Berry instead of stay on his own porch.

What he say's at the *end* of this particular interview *is* super funny for sure.... but it also makes me incredibly sad.  The idea that "white women" wouldn't run to a black man's arms unless they were "homeless or got problems' is a tragic one.

For one.... at some point, this man's personal experience has lead him to conclusion.  Which, if you ask me, is heartbreaking.  It reminds me of reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X where he recounts, in spite of getting good grades and being a solid and promising student - he's informed in the 8th grade that if was a really good negro that he *might* be lucky enough to become a Janitor - because, at the time - *that* was a good job for any African American.
This moment was crushing for Malcolm and was the first time he realized that there was a glass ceiling for him and he might never achieve more than what would be "allowed" - not what he could actually do or earn.

As the years have gone by - I hopefully believed that these sentiments were a thing of the past - I mean we *have* an African American for President... things *have* to be better - right?
Clearly not.

I'll be honest, I didn't vote for Obama.  I think most of them are giant lying bags of douche.... Sorry... but I do:  on *both* sides of the aisle.  However..... I have always been one to support democracy and as such, I have supported whoever the President is and chosen to work on making the changes I want to see in the world in my own home and community.  It's silly to think *one* person so disconnected from the rest of us can *really* make change .... ever:  if at all.  That's a big machine they are pushing against.

However, Charles Ramsey appears to be around the same age/generation at President Obama - and is it curious to anyone else that one man thinks white women have to be homeless or with problems to run into a black mans' arms for help.... while the *other* man is an actual instrument of change for men and women of all colors in this country?

Raised, within the same borders - how can each of them see themselves and their own race so differently?  Have we not advanced past this *just* a little?
Clearly... for some of us, the answer is no.... and that's not good enough for me.

It's a blessing that the countless ways and times those women tried to get someone - *anyone's* attention - failed and failed miserably..... and yet, one day - this man, homeless and eating his McDonalds - he see's them and doesn't hesitate to help.

He didn't see color - he saw someone who needed to get out of their house - and he helped.
Plain and simple.  

I'm grateful that, to that end, my children are completely and totally: stupid.
They honestly think Whoopi Goldberg *is* God..... because I have let them.  I have not disturbed their idea that *anyone* - be an African American woman with dread locks - can be God.

It's much more than a political statement - what my children have in them, is that everyone has value - and that they *should* be valued.  Too many children are taught that black people or gay people or homeless people or whateverthehellthatthreatensyoursenseoff*ckingsecurity people - are "bad" and shouldn't be trusted - even in your time of need.  
At that that's the message that society (or whoever) has left Charles Ramsey with about himself.
That makes me incredibly sad for him - and for the rest of us.

How many other 'Charles Ramsey's' in the world *haven't* stepped up simply because they didn't think anyone wanted them to - or would trust them?  

We have to start trusting each other just a little more and teaching our children to trust as well.  We have to *stop* teaching RACE or gender or sexuality.... and just start teaching GOODNESS, humanity and kindness.  

I don't think Mr. Ramsey is remarkable because of how the media describes him over and over "homeless black man" - when I see him, I see a very down-home, no none-sense person who saw another human's fear and helped them.  Plain and simple.

More than that - I hope that Mr. Ramsey see's himself as the hero he is.  I noticed, in other stories, the Sheriff was quick to take away the "glory" and put out a statement saying that Amanda was "the real hero" here because she tried to get help.... oddly enough though- all three girls had tried before and all the police did was respond to calls from neighbors, knock on the door and walk away..... 

It took Charles Ramsey to see her cries for help and to help her.... I'd say that's pretty heroic.

Sorry for the delayed post today - we took the kids to the coast for a four day trip.... and I'm stuck using a really old laptop that's missing the 'e' key and the 'r' key....

Needless to say... the grammar polic will love this entry.

Traveling with kids is always a challenge - traveling with kids and someone who didn't raise them is challenging in a different way.

I'm sure it's the same for any single parent in my shoes.  When you *have* children with someone, you kind of 'grow up' together.  In the begining you're too tired trying to figure out how to breast feed, change diapers (and really - which ones are better - Huggies or Pampers? and then by kids #2, you're all "Sweet these Target knock offs are half the price!) ..... and clean your house and go back to work....... you kind of just fall into a way of doing things that probably isn't the best way - but it's the way that works just enough to make life sane.

When you add a new person to the mix, it's a bit of a shock to the parenting system.  I knew it would be - both as a Mom dealing with another woman in my role in thier Dad's house - and having someone knew in my life.  Even still - questions like.... "Why do you do XXXXXX......." - though just innocently asked - make you stop and wonder - why *do* I do that?  lol

To be honest.... sometimes the answer is well thought out and based on either experience or something I read in a Dr. Sears book.... and to be frank, sometimes the answer is: "F*ck if I know.". lolol
(BTW.... one "new" blog reader commented that I must be angry because I curse all the time and say f*ck a lot..... no sh*t, lady.  lololol.  I'm not mad... I'm fairly well-read and well-educated, and *happy* - but this Mommy has a potty mouth.... that is all.)

Anyhow -Carhartt is doing great with the kids. Luke, of course is a HUGE hit.  The kids have run that dog into a nap more than once..... this morning I asked Carhartt what we should do today and their reply was, "I don't know, but where ever we go - let's make the kids run behind the car the whole way there."  lol
I thought to myself, but didn't dare say it outloud (don't want to go running anyone off) - 'wait until we hit their sullen, angry teenage years - we'll be missing this joyful and careful free time with them.'

The house belongs to a client of mine - it sleeps ten people with rooms for everyone (yes... everyone has their own room..... hahaha).  The view is gorgeous, only a short walk to the beach and there is a park and playstructure in the community.  The kids are in heaven.

Yesterday the kids and I went down to the beach with our sand toys, umbrella, blanket and beach bag complete with a packed brunch - we I just sat and watched them run in the waves and chase each other around.

It's hard to believe how much life has changed in one year.  Sometimes it's hard for me to wrap my brain around everything we've been through and where we are at now.  I'm incredibly grateful that the kids are doing so well inspite of it all.....

Of course, like any well-planned event, the wind kicked up super strong just about the time that we were unwrapping our sandwhiches and suddenly we were all eating a little bit of the Oregon Coast with our PB&J.  I waited for the kids to reject their now gritty sandwiches when The Boy said, "Oh..... wow - there sand in my 'sand'which.... Mom!!!!"  They broke out into giggles thinking this was hilarious and to my surprise, they both finished their sandy lunches without complaining.  (Which was a good thing too, because in my Martha Stewart mind - I was doing to be a freakin' pissed if my heart felt like went the way of the sea gulls because of some wind! lol)

But.... there we sat, sunscreen to the hilt, sandy sandwhiches in our bellies and the kids running in the waves and I felt very very grateful that while I know there will still be hard days ahead for each of us - there will be sunny ones, too......

Sigh.

If you've been reading the blog, then you'll know just how technology challenged in the dating world I am.... first there was me confessing my "undying love" for Coffee Guy (meant for my BFF of 15 years....) and then there's the whole giving Carhartt a hookers phone number instead of mine....
sigh.

It's almost too embarrassing to type, to be honest.
lol

I have to say that I *much* prefer the days of old when someone passed you a mix-tape in the hall.  Those were the best... and suffice to say:  I still have a few of them, though I don't know how I'd play them now.

I also have a shoebox of love notes - old and tattered and starting to tear where they have been folded for years - a selection of notes from all the boys of note from my high school years.  In that same box are several of my corsages from different dances and some awkward looking photos where I'm pretty thin, kinda pretty and wearing the ugliest dress known to man which is *far* too fancy for the pimple faced/sweater & Khaki wearing boy standing next to me. lol

The coolest thing about notes and mix-tapes though... was that they GO AWAY.  hahaha.  When you're done with that relationship you can throw it away and it's like it never happened..... 

But not today.
sigh.

Going into "dating", I was keenly aware that I have absolutely NO privacy.  I can't meet someone down the road and say.... "Oh, my divorce was no big deal.....".  I don't get the chance to play it all off like it was nothing..... after all - not too many people wind up talking about their divorce on National f*cking television.
sigh.

Every ounce of my pain is here on this blog.  Typed through tears and anger and frustration.  Every action, every deed is recorded here for everyone to see..... then, now and in the future.  That's a bit daunting, to be totally honest.

I wrote this The Blog - and The Book for that matter - in real time.  That makes it all very *real*.  I have sat down every night - Sunday thru Thursday - just after midnight and poured my heart, my life and my emotions onto this keyboard.  I never proof read (clearly... right? lol) - I just write and hit publish and go to bed.

This is raw and real and as 'true' as I can make it.
Which is good - I have an accountability to my friends and my kids to be honest.
However.... having put alllll of this out there - it's easy for someone new you're dating to find it.

Ouch.

In the first place, they might read all this and decide I'm bat sh*t crazy and run for the hills.... but, I decided that anyone who would leave me for that reason isn't someone I'd want to date for the mere fact that this *is* me.... and if they don't like that, well, it doesn't really matter if it's online or not... it's still me.

However, I never considered what it would be like to read and *see* the love I once had for El Capitan - or how it would be to read through all the pain I went through.... I mean:  that's a f*ck ton of pain.  I never thought about it until it happened to me.

See.... damn facebook.  Sigh.

There we were moving along - dating... Carhartt and me.  And things were going great (still are for the record....) - and then we became facebook friends and suddenly I was *keenly* aware of Carhartt and a collection of very pretty girls having dated..... damn mobile uploads.
Seriously?!?!? lol

Years of happy posts litter their wall...." So-and-so I can't wait to see you....!"

Oh yes... yes you *can* wait motherf*cker and please stop flirting with *my* Carhartt even though this post is dated March of 2009.... go away.  I don't want to see you!!!!!! lol

Ok.  Now I don't just look bat sh*t crazy... now I'm like boil a bunny on your stove crazy.
Fine.  I can own it.

My point is - people are *constantly* saying to me, "Doesn't it bother that your whole life is online.....?"  - ummm.... YOURS probably is, too. When you and your current squeeze break-up - facebook and twitter and instagram are *all* going to be there like headstones in a relationship graveyard:  markers on the timeline of your life of what was...... and there's f*ck all you can do about it.

Carhartt and I actually had to have a bit of a conversation about this because while I *knew* having my entire life online would be a challenge.... being *faced* with the cyber love of Carhartts past.... I'm not gonna' lie:  that really sucked.  I can only imagine how much more this sucks for them.
Sigh.

Of course, while I'm being slightly jealous of a past that went awry (silly, silly girl....) - I was nervous about asking Carhartt how they felt.  I mean - that first chapter of The Book is pretty intense... like I literally put every ounce of emotion and love I had for El Capitan in that chapter (and then I left if there, incidentally) but Carhartt just replied that they knew I was married before and they assumed that I had loved him very much and that that didn't bother them.

Okay...... 

Then after we chatted about what I found on their facebook page..... they spent an entire night reading back over my wall for the last several years.... which I think I read somewhere that the sign of an "unhealthy" relationship is when you facebook stalk the other person....?  But how can you NOT?!?!?!?!  I know I can't help but torture myself by looking through a slideshow of hot dates and pretty girls from the past.... but you would think after a book and a blog - one wouldn't need to read over my facebook wall.

But they did..... and I nervously asked what they thought about it all.... because I *didn't* see it coming, I thought my marriage was fairly happy and *I* was happy..... thousands of status updates showing a happy mother of two who was happily married.... isn't that hard to look at?  Does that change things now?

Nope...... Carhartt said that all they saw was someone who makes the best of things and tried really really hard to have a happy marriage.... and that's something they like about me.

So now at this point I've hatched a plan to wait until Carhartt falls asleep watching a movie and start checking them over for bolts and metal plates because at this point I'm starting to think that Carhartt isn't real... can't possibly be 'human'.... surely someone this great - this thoughtful - this.... level headed:  they *must* be a robot.  Right?  I'm not crazy...... I swear, I'm not.

Oh... and talking to a friend about all this (who promptly scolded me for being crazy... lol) - they brought up, with serious concern, that Carhartt might a stalker?  Like - may be they were following the story and read all about me online, etc - and that's why they are so "perfect":  that they are just pretending.   However.... I contacted Carhartt.  They didn't approach me and it wasn't until *after* I told them about The Blog that they even knew the whole thing existed.  So.... now I'm back to being pretty sure that Carhartt is a robot.

Mind you..... do I care?  Not at all, to be honest.... not at all.

Having said that..... what I wouldn't give for a past that I could fold up and put in a shoebox, only letting out the parts I wanted someone else to read.  What I wouldn't give for a mix-tape and the ability to throw it all away and start over fresh........