So, I was supposed to post about my super fantastic, fun, awesome trip to Hollywood to film a segment for the new Jeff Probst talk show that starts in September.... and then THIS happened.
    First... and *most* fortunately - *THAT* is not my van.  Phew...... right?
    Second, we were headed down a busy road that has a 45 mile an hour speed limit and it drives directly into the sunset..... this is a long and wide road that is 6 lanes wide and yet *STILL* has a pedestrian crossing where there isn't a stop light, but rather a stretch of white lines across the road .... kind of like Abbey Road only without super talented muscians typically walking across the road in Oregon... hahahaha.
    Anyhow ... traveling at 45 miles per hour, headed into the sun, I first see a man, all dressed in black and wearing a black fedora hat staggering across the white lines... above are the yellow "stop" for a pedestrian crossing lights that are flashing and flashing - but most of all..... all I can see rising from the asphalt is .... smoke.  Blue... thick... smoke.
    I can make out a large, green F250 truck... the super huge kind of truck that's extra tall and hard to climb up into.... only now it's about four feet shorter at it's front than it should be.  The owner is nearly falling out of the driver's side holding a sloping, clearly painful shoulder.....
    We're the second car behind the truck and the car in front of me just.... drives off.  I pass the truck and pull over, turn on my hazard lights and tell the Bubbie to call 911.  I just start walking.....
   At first I can't see the car that got hit... and then I do - it's a gold-ish van with a blown out back window and along the road I see a small boys shoe....
    Sh*t.... a small, slip-on shoe with a Lighting McQueen smiling up at me with his obnoxious eyes. I can make out two car seats through the hole where tinted safety glass *used* to be.... and then I see several small children, each one with tears streaming down their faces and screaming in fear as they make their way around the van to where I am on the side of the road .... turns out that their side door to the van was crunched closed.
    I take the older girl and sit her down on the grass looking her over for any bleeding of signs of having been 'knocked out' and I check the older brother... he's worse for wear with visible 'burns' from the seat belt around his neck and behind his ear, but both are alert... scared, but alert.
    Their parents make their way over each carrying a younger boy and a younger girl who aren't crying.... they had been sleeping upon impact and aren't quite sure what is going on..... what a blessing.
    Sitting on the grass, I'm picking glass out of the little girl's hair and rubbing her back while we wait for an ambulance, police, etc.... then an EMT shows up - he's off duty and in his regular clothes.... but the Mom doesn't know who he is and she starts screaming at him about hitting her until we reassure her that he wasn't driving the truck....
    So, I leave the kids with the trained EMT and head over to the driver of the truck.  I ask him for his name and insurance company and then I tell him the police are on their way and to wait with his truck as the woman he hit iis extremely upset and doesn't want to speak to him.  He's pretty shaken up and agrees (because even this far away and over the traffic and sirens, he can hear her screaming obscenities... lol - can't say I blame her though.....)
    The police came and I gave my statement about seeing the pedestrian in the cross walk and the smoke and cars... I tell the fire department that from what I saw the kids were all alert and awake shortly after impact (i.e. no one passed out) - and there was no blood, etc.  They tell the woman that she has to get her property out of the van - that it has to be towed.... she just kind of stares at me, surrounded by crying children and holding her youngest son who is now inconsolable.
    I went to my car and dug around to find a bag and came back with a mesh laundry hamper and I started going through her car, taking out her purse, lighters, papers from the glove box, sunglasses and toys and books and clothes.... the other Lighting McQueen shoe.
    The little girl is upset about her toys - trapped behind the door that is crushed shut I have to crawl around the middle seat and lean waaaaaay over the second car seat (which, if we all remember is rather hard to do at my extremely large, mamouth size.... bwahahahaha) - and then I set my hand down onto to car seat for balance and it's wet.
    I realise that the child sitting in that seat had wet the seat..... in fear and panic and a moment of sheer terror, this poor, sweet child... wet the seat.
    I finished picking up all the toys and going through everything I could find and save for them and took it over to the Mom who was super grateful.... I reminded her that she CANNOT use those car seats - that they HAVE to be replaced..... she say's she has friends on the way to help them and they'll buy some more that night.
    I finish up with the police, take pictures of the scene (*note* when in a car accident, pictures are your BEST FRIEND - it proves the children were in car seats, that there was a cross walk, etc..... ) and as I head back to my car where The Boy is *very* worried about the kids who were in the van I'm reminded *again* that there ARE worse thing than can happen.... 
    That family *will* need a new van for sure - and two new car seats.... but how amazing that fully stopped for a pedestrian - after being hit at 45 miles per hour - the *only* thing she'll need is a new van and car seats - because she won't be dealing with the emotional trauma of having accidently run over another human (fedora guy who didn't even stop to see if everyone was ok! he just kept walking!!!!) .... AND she still has a husband and all four of her children to *put* in that new van.
    Yup.... it was a good day.  There are almost *always* worse things that could happen.... though, since this appears to be a life lesson G*d keeps teaching me... i'm always a tad bit worried what'll happen next! lol... no seriously - like - what kind of crazy luck was *that*!  
    

Someone recently left a comment on one of my posts that had me thinking..... does everyone think that El Capitan and I don't talk? 

Lol.... he wishes! hahahahahahaha

Seriously, El Capitan and I talk every day.... usually three or four times a day.  On the Friday that I put the sign out, I sent him a text message it said, "All systems are a go Houston.... "

By 5 o'clock that night I was calling him frantic with the phone ringing off the hook with TV camera's outside our house.... from that VERY FIRST interview request - I *called* El Capitan to ask him what I should do....  I think we can *all* see that I have a 'face for radio' as they say - and I'm obviously *not* 'camera ready'.  We were both surprised by the interest and thought that first interview would get the house on the evenings new which would help us sell the house -and - we *thought* that the media interest would end there.

THAT can officially go down as the first time I was most definitely WR.ONG. lololol

After that, we immediately agreed what *I* would say and what I *would not* say to the media.... about the kids, their names, his name, where he works, who Yoga Girl really is... etc. 

Imagine that.... *not only* am I cleaning up the emotional mess that El Capitan's affair has left our children in... but faced the internet picking my Shamu-sized ass to pieces - El Capitan *asked* me not to reveal Yoga's Girls secret home-wrecking identity (I'm fairly certain she has a cape super tall stripper shoes to match).... which he didn't even have to ask me to do - because I already knew that I wasn't about to ruin her life.... though I briefly entertained the idea of throwing her less-than-slender carcass to the wolves to help save my own.... I thought better of it.  I even texted her reassurance of that and asked her to take down her facebook page (or *at least* make her pictures private)... which she still hasn't done.  I guess I'm more worried about her than she is.....

How's *that* for irony, Alanis Morrisette? 

I actually haven't accepted - or turned down- a single interview without talking to El Capitan about it FIRST.  Who was asking, what they wanted to talk about... etc.  El Capitan doesn't like Dr. Phil.... so that was hardly even a conversation - and I declined politely.  That doesn't mean he dictates what I say - or that I have some kind of "script" - but we have a general understanding of where the line for our family is and I haven't crossed it yet..... (nor do I plan to).

To be frank.... I didn't start the BLOG before I talked to El Capitan first. 

On top of the media frenzy (that again - we were totally unprepared for!) - there's my emotional pain where it sometimes seems that the only thing left to dry my tears are Yoga Girl's wet sheets.... but alas, it's late and we'll avoid going down that road.... (or laying down on that bed as the case may be...... - which, I *might* add that it's super FANTASTIC to know EXACTLY where you husband threw away his family.... the hunter green of her comforter - her affinity for movies and photography..... people *really* shouldn't post their ENTIRE lives on facebook.... or pictures of their bedroom.   lolol.)

Anyhow.... on top of all that - there is still the daily life of the children - which El Capitan has been apart of - from visitation that fits within his work schedule to phone calls about EV.ER.Y.THING.  "Daddy I went pee in the potty..... Daddy I lost a tooth..... Daddy I went swimming today......".

When The Girl fell off the bar stool and busted her lip - my first phone call was to El Capitan to let him know she got hurt.  When The Boy had the runs..... I phoned El Capitan so that he could plan something different for the next days time together just in case The Boy was sick. 

Like I said... I'm pretty sure El Capitan wishes I didn't call as much as I do ... lol.  The divorce papers *say* I have sole and primary custody.... which means I can make decisions about EVERYTHING without asking anyone.  However... when I wanted to change the home school program for The Boy, I first called El Capitan to say that I wanted to do it.  *THEN* after he agreed, I looked into which changes to make - THEN, after presenting the ideas to El Capitan - a decision was made.

An no... it's not some kind of rouse to "get him back" - ..... whatever I *may think* of El Capitan's parenting skills at the moment and regardless of what any paper says (with all due respect to our Judge) - it still feels wrong to me to make choices that affect our *family* and our *children* without talking to their Father first..... even if I could insert a few other less than stellar adjectives in place of 'father' right now... bwahahahaha. :)

So, it doesn't matter if El Capitan's EX WIFE is  mad or sad or angry or hurt...... if there's something that's come up with the kids - a hurt knee, a change in doctors, a reason to go to the doctor - no matter how benign - El Capitan is the first phone call I make...... not because I actually *want* to hear his voice.... but because deep down - I know it's the *right* thing to do.

So .... as Uncle Phil always say's, I "Just Do It".  Period.

Today's big triumph calls to Dad - were The Girl going all day without an accident and he got to see a video of The Boy dropping in on the 9 foot bowl at skate class.  Whatever my thoughts are about El Capitan.... my kids *still* need two cheerleaders in the stands and I'm not about to let them miss out on that.

As far as life goes..... our divorce states that El Capitan will be invited to attend their birthday parties, to opening presents on Christmas morning, to... everything.  It states not that he is "welcome" to attend recitals or sports events - but rather that he is *expected* to attend them - we both are.  Period.  I have *countless* divorced friends who disagree with this - but.... my kids *still* believe in Santa - and I'm not about to ruin the magic of the season because El Capitan got his mistletoecaught in someone else's camel toe.  teehee heee...

Two Whole Children from ONE Broken Home.  That's the goal.  That's been my goal since I first found out about Yoga Girl.... it's a lofty goal... one that will still come laced with anger and tears and pain - on both sides.... but that doesn't mean it isn't attainable.  It doesn't mean that after a a few rough days or weeks - that's a goal I'm ever going to give up on..... because if I give up that goal - then I really just give up on my children and THAT - I'm never going to do.

Oh.... and one more thing.  The same poster felt that I'm holding Yoga Girl accountable - and unduly so.... but here's the deal:  Yoga Girl KNOWS who I am.  She's seen me - MANY TIMES, knew me to be El Capitan's WIFE and the mother of his children.  She has also STATED to me that she doesn't see "anything wrong" with what they did.... because she was - and wait for it because THIS. IS. AWESOME:  she was "saving him from a situation where he felt like sh*t every day.......". 

lolololololololololololol.  Remember - I did mention the possibility of a cape and stripper shoes.... Yoga Girl could start her kind of "In-Justice League".  Their slogan could be "Fighting For the Freedom of Put-Upon Spouses"... and ..... "Freeing Forlorn Spouses One Sexual Indiscretion At a Time"......bwahaha

Somehow.... I don't think El Capitan is feeling "less sh*tty" these days... hahahaha.  Mission NOT Accomplished... hahaha.

As for me... I have a wee girl who has woken up crying for Mommy.... and that's the only cape I

Raised by Jews, I've always been keenly aware of other people's problems.

Growing up we had a family friend - who I adored.  As a very small children we were all warned not to ask this family friend why she had "number stickers" on her arm.  We were never told what they were until we were much older - but it was known that your High Holidays were going to end on a sour note if you dared ask about the numbers.

Actually, as totally, utterly sad as this is (and frankly, we can just file this under the same "I'm Stupid" file as we did the 'horse whispering' incident.... lol) - but the truth of the matter is that I didn't actually *know* what those numbers actually *meant meant* until I saw Schindlers List.

I remember sitting in the parking lot and crying and crying.  Those images, those events - very realy to my own elders - and in one case, personally real.  Like, real real - lived through it - tatoo to show for it - REAL. 

And there I sat at dinner after dinner laughing at their jokes, never knowing the kind of inhumane torture and pain they had known first hand.

It was humbling.

So..... when I *say* I'm not bitter and not upset.... it's because I just *can't* be - again... no one bought an infant casket.... so it just isn't that bad.  No one showed up, lined up my family members  and shot them in the town center.... so - yeah - I see that as making me pretty lucky in this life. 

Because sadly - *those* things ARE. STILL. HAPPENING. to people right NOW.  :(

Having said that ... that doesn't mean that I haven't gone radio silent lately because things have been too real for me and El Capitan.  All I can say.... is that no one can ever heal until they have the truth.  PERIOD.

But, I've also been getting the kids ready for school.  The Girl will be going to pre-school this year - a wee 3's program with some friends of ours.... which is SUPER exciting!  We're almost potty trained (yes, yes - I know - I'm a bit slow on that one! lololol) - but my BABY - my last BABY is growing up to a walking, tap-dancing, potty using BIG GIRL. 

Some days.... that very fact is almost more than my already broken heart can bear... bare... crap... you know what I mean.

And The Boy.  A walking, full-sentence, 4th grade reading level, singing and rapping (oh... one day I will have to post one of his "raps".... he's hilariously cute and bad and pretty good all at the same time!) - and now.... he's ready for MULTIPLICATION!!!  What?  How did *that* happen to me?

Seems like I brought him home from the hospital just yesterday..... scared sh*tless about giving him baths and breast-feeding and co-sleeping..... draming about what he would be like when he grew up.... and now I'm living that dream.  I'm so grateful for that.

However, and this is where my "first world" single Mommy problems come into play..... but - I'm also bracing myself for this being my last year of homschooling.  Again, I *FULLY* realise that *most* single Moms have to work FULL TIME and not only is homeschooling not an option - but staying at home becomes a LUXURY that Single Moms cannot afford.

Currently, I can make it work to keep their little lives the same as they were before the Divorce (as far as schooling goes) - but if the totallyradcards.com site doesn't take off and start making money.... then I'll have to figure out going to school for some kind of trade to try to make some kind of decent money to support us.

And yeah.... I'm seriously effing angry about that.  In my mind, while I *know* no one lined up my family and shot them in front of me...... El Capitan and Yoga Girl *did* line up all my dreams in front of me and took them out one by one.... slowly.  painfully. 

Not noticing that our own children were standing behind each of those dreams takingin the emotional shrapnel.

So this is it..... at least I have *some* warning this time to really really really make the most of what is potentially my *last* year "at home" with the kids..... I'm so grateful for that chance to truly take it all in and make the most of every second.

At the same time.... I know and see sooooooooooo many Single Moms who are AWE.SOME.  They work full-time, raise awesome kids and are .... happy.  I look to them with admiration and hope that I can grow up into that... that I can find my footing at a Single Mom and make it all work.

Again.... first world problems.... but it seems the heart doesn't always know the difference or care........  stupid hearts.

Co-parenting.

I heard a great quote recently about co-parenting and it suggested that the idea itself of co-parenting was impossible because in solid co-parenting communication is a must.  And... if you were good communicators - then... you wouldn't be divorced, right?

In my case, El Capitan and I talked all the time... of course, Yoga Girl told me that *she* heard we hardly talked at all... but I think we all know me well enough by now to know that isn't true... bwahahahaha.

And yes.... of course if *I'm* the only one talking - then that isn't communication... this I know - but THAT'S. THE. THING.  We talked *all the time*!!!!!  About EVERYTHING.  I didn't spend more than $50 on a single item without talking about it... *WE* homeschooled, *WE* talked about what classes to sign the kids up for the summer and *WE* talked ALL. THE. TIME: about work, how hard it was, the people that worked there...

ALL. THE. TIME.

Even when I asked and begged when things were slipping away.... El Capitan just smiled, kissed my forehead and *promised* me that everything was fine.... *promised* me that he loved me..... until One Day, he gave those forehead kisses and promises to someone else...  and nothing was *fine*.

So.  Now that THAT is where I'm at..... how on EARTH do I row this boat alone?  Sure, sure.... El Capitan will work the kids into this life - however that works out and in and effort *not* to airy the "dirty" laundry I'll just leave it at that.... BUT - aside from actually "parenting time" - I have to deal with the bigger issue of THE KIDS.

The Girl... she's rather blissfully unawares.  She still thinks her Daddy is UnicornsAndRainbowsFabulous - and frankly.... I think that that's an opinion she's entitled to for as long as she can feel that way.  That's what every little girl deserves.... right?

The Boy... however, he's older. 

The Bubbie has this saying.... and (like I previous mentioned - her version of things is usually far less "PG" than mine... lolol) - but she has this saying - OK, actually she has ALOT of dirty saying, but this one in particular fits the bill:  "Don't kiss me while you're f***ing me and call it making love".

At this point.... The Boy knows the difference, too. 

He talks alot about Daddy's girlfriend.  When we first told the kids, our counselor told us to be AS HONEST as is/was age appropriate.  She encouraged us to tell them that Daddy had "someone else".... but I felt they were too young, so we didn't at first.

A few weeks into our "separation" - The Boy overheard El Capitan on his phone talking about "sleeping next to a 22 year old every night that does Yoga" (again.. The Boy heard "goga".... lol).  So, *after* that happened, I was more honest (using the verbage and direction of the counselor) - and (when asked) explained that Daddy does, indeed, have a girlfriend.

So.... now when El Capitan tells The Boy that he can't come over because has to "Work".... The Boy will sometimes look at me and say, ....."Daddy's not coming over because he's with his Girlfriend, huh?"

I SWEAR TO G*D.  I would rather strip naked, cover myself in honey and do the TruffleShuffle at a Bee Farm than *ever* have my son ask me THAT question.

Seriously.  Honey + Bee's + Copious Amounts of Jiggly Elle doing The Truffle-Shuffle= Happier Elle.

The books and the counselor say it's important not to lie, but also not to *encourage* or *embellish* things... and this is the fine line I think *all* single/divorced parents walk.... how much information is too much?  How much honesty is healthy.....?  How much honesty is too much and will have my kids in therapy well into their 30s, incapable of finding and maintaing happy realtionships of their own.....?

That's the sucky thing about growing up.... like The Boy, I too, bought into this Sesame Street world where people were equal, where everyone was friends and skin color and monster hair were just that.... hair and skin.  WHO YOU WERE .... *that* meant something.  The Boy is *still* very much in his Sesame Street world... crap - the kid actually thought that G*d was a black woman with dread locks.... which is still a concept I am 100000% comfortable with because frankly... for all I know - that is EXACTLY what G*d looks like! lololol

I raised The Boy to have a very strong sense of right and wrong.  Each day before pre-school for two years I would ask him, "What do we say about friends.....?" 

"Caring and sharing is more fun for everyone.", The Boy would reply.

Then I would say..... "... and it's your job to......?" 

"Make sure everyone get's a turn and everyone get's invited to pay.", The Boy would say.

Basically, The Boy *knows* that sometimes.... he's not "getting his turn" with his Dad.  So... what the hell is the right answer when The Boy feels like the last kid picked for kick-ball because his Dad isn't around......?

I think that my focus has to change.... Clearly, I did a sh*te job of keeping my family together the first time.. the idea of "co-parenting" in this new phase... well, I think my idea of what that looks like has to change. - or.... I have to start buying ALOT of honey and go on a serious diet.

Instead of trying to influence or "control" what is going on *around* the children, I need to start focusing more on the *tools* I teach them to process this information.  I need to help them write their own handbook for their little lives... instead of trying to bury it all away from them.  Eventually, those are just emotional mountains they have climb over or they'll get buried under the weight of them.

They are seeing it.  They are living it.  As our counselor said - the sign is a "sign" - a plastic representation of *what* is happening... but it's not nearly as impactful as WHAT is actually happening to us......

As a side note.....  I'm kind of dumb.  I once thought that "horse-whispering" meant that you just whispered things into a horses ear..... I know - I *said* I a dumb. lolololol..... so - after I had The Boy, I started doing my own mis-informed version of that - and each and every night of his life I have held him or knelt next to him and whispered to him, "You are kind.  You are wonderful. You are brave.  You are a great son.  You are smart.  You are proud.  You are happy.  You are loved.  Mommy loves you.  Daddy loves you.  You are a wonderful brother.  You are my best friend.... I am always proud to be your Mommy."

So..... while I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to say to him during the *day* when he comes at me with his overly wise and observant questions of pain and confusion...... now, at night I add this to my "baby whsipering" ritual ...."Daddy loves you.  Mommy loves you.  You are YOU.  There is only ONE YOU.  And YOU have the power to choose how to behave.  YOU have the power to FORGIVE.  YOU have the strength to move on.  YOU can HEAL..... and Always be kind and gentle and make time for sister."

Now.... I just have to figure out how the hell to instil those values during the waking hours..... or like I said, rent Goonie and start prefecting my Truffle-Shuffle.

While the Matisyahu helps calm me and move me forward..... (it also really really really makes me want to date a really hot Hasidic Jewish guy - which is not at all a bad thing according to my Grandmother... hahahah sadly, NONE of those guys have yet been calling..... :)

Matisyahu has been very good to me these last few weeks, but now....  I've decided it's to shelve my previously yarmulked reggae genius and pull out the Big Guns.... Mr. Robbie Williams.
    
Now... here's the thing about Robbie.... he's probably the BEST KEPT BRITTISH SECRET in America.  I've heard he lives in Burbank or LA and like... NO ONE seems to know who he is - yet he's STILL one of the biggest selling aritists in the world... but for whatever reason, he's never "caught on" in American like he did... well - all over the rest of the *ENTIRE PLANET*. 

Aside from making lovely music (more on that later....) he's like.... so easy on the eyes.  No - like totally, really easy on the eyes....... In fact, I think he's THE MOST PERFECT MAN on the entire planet.  His sense of humor, his self-depreciating humor, his... well, his everything.  He always makes me smile. 

And for the record.... why on WHY does everyone just *assume* that I was totally happy and "satisfied" in my marriage....?  I'm not saying I wasn't ... but - um - WHY does everyone assume that I wasn't sad when El Capitan was needing to use less and less shampoo.....?  I think it's just assumed that because I'm a) a giant fat ass and b) lucky that anyone even looks my direction (probably just to think to themselves about how I need to go on a diet) that those two things obviously add up to me having no self-worth or value as a human being and therefore I have nothing to offer the human race or my own spouse......?  The fact that we *both* put on that Seventh Wedding Anniversary 25 pounds - TOGETHER... is lost on people.  So, for some - based on that - El Capitan is CLEARLY within reason to have to moved on to a younger, thinner yoga-ier girl - what about me!?!?!  

What if I was settling ....?  What if I was trading someone else's fading looks for their fathering and husband skills and thinking that that was just fine by me......? 

Well NO MORE LADIES!!!!  NO MORE.  It's time to get my Robbie' on!

In.... 199....5?  May be it was 1996, I was working as a nanny for a family in Maida Vale, just outside London.  Across the road lived Robbie and some mates - these were his post-Take That days and his pre-World Domination Days.  The paps mostly left him alone... and so, on some afternoons, I would sit at wee Oliver's bedroom window just waiting for Robbie to pop out to the shops for his lager and fags - wearing his long brown overcoat. 

Don't tell my old employer... but that *might* be the reason I burned dinner more than a few times... hahahaha

I never said hi or anything.... that's not the "done thing" in London.  You see famous people all the time and you don't ever want to be the overly-loud American making a twat of yourself in the greengrocers because you noticed Liam Gallagher was standing behind you making lewd gestures in the checkout line.  (That happened to me TWICE!  Dammed employer used to make me cut up and serve fresh carrots and cucumber slices sprinkled with sea salt before dinner each night.... so there I'd be in the line buying my giant thick, green cucumbers and Liam was standing behind me making all kinds of polite suggestions about what I could do with said cucumbers.....typical.)  I was BY NO MEANS going to try to wave down Robbie as he dashed by the kids and I to hop a cabbie.... oh hell no.  (Clearly now... I'd be more than happy to make a 'twat' out of myself to get Robbie's attention.... lololol)

Anyhow..... Robbie is an amazing song writer - open, fresh, honest... funny.  His songs have looooong seen me through some hard times in the last twenty years.... and it's time to dig out those tunes and get my sh*t together!  Or rather.... it was time to re-purchase all that music from Amazon and put it on my mp3 player (Thanks Dad for the Amazon gift card for my Birthday! :)

We're going to start with, No Regrets:

I don't want to hate but that's
All you've left me with
A bitter
aftertaste and a fantasy of
How we all could live

No regrets they
don't work
No regrets they only hurt........

Then we're off and running to making my work out "cd" - which will host nealry allll Robbie Songs.... it's time to stop settling.  Because.... let me be clear:  I'm not going to settle again ... even if that means I'm alone for the rest of my life ( yes yes... I hear you peanut gallery, Shamu deserves to be alone.... lolol) - but this girl is DONE settling for anything less ..... well, anything less than Robbie!  (wish me luck.... hahahaha)

Here is where you can find more about Robbie:  http://www.robbiewilliams.com/

and you always download his albums from Amazon:  CLICK HERE TO SEE SELECTIONS

So... get your music, get your Robbie on... and we can all stop settling! :)
(Well, everyone except for Yoga Girl because she doesn't know she's settled just yet... bwahahahaha!)

Ohhh.... calm yourself male fattys in your tighty-whitey's, still stuck (and by that, I mean to suggest that your own butt sweat has now gelled with the couch and the jaws of life are needed for removal for potty breaks....) to your Momma's couch in the basement .... I'm talking about THE HOUSE, not me. lololol

It *appears* and - please knock wood, cross your fingers, wish on a star and pet a freakin' unicorn to avoid jinxing this - but.... drum roll please:  We have an offer!!!!!!  (oh... and by "we", I mean to say me - *I* got us an offer - you know... the devilish woman who took her ex-husband to the "cleaners" and is seeking revenge... yup - THAT girl. hahaha)

It's a nice couple - they really like the house... seem to enjoy all my little touch's, which is super nice.  I had visions of those horrible HGTV shows where they show Person A selling the house to Person B and then Person B moves in and removes alllll the things Person A loved about their home!  ugh... can you imagine?  I mean, of course, we all have to make it our own "home" - but..... the idea of painting Baby Girls pink walls... what a heartbreaker.

Anyhow.... I digress.... and trying *so* damn hard *not* to digress lately!  It's been a tough weekend... co-parenting is a ton easier when two people are doing it.... it's a crapton (yes, I know, that's not actually a word, but I just made it up... so there) yes... it's a  CRAPTON like rowing a boat with one oar on one side... sure you're moving - treading water even.... but you're not really getting anywhere.  "Co-parenting" on your own is a CRAPTON like that.... lololol   There's a certain bitterness about that which I am trying super duper hard not to let boil to the surface......

But after a looooong, hard weekend - I got that magical call:  "We just love your house - can we stop over?"

It's like... remember in junior high and you'd send a boy/girl a note and it would say "will you go steady with me - please check the yes, no, or may be box".  And then you'd have your hand drawn boxes (I always made my "no" box super small.... like, if I made it super small no one could actually put an "x" in it.  - yes, yes... therapists, feel free to talk amongst yourselves now.... lolol) - and so you'd send your little love note of commitment out into the world and hope it came back from the boy/girl you liked with the right box checked.

That sign in my yard..... that was a HUGE FREAKIN love note I accidently sent out into the world.... and frankly - a few too many people were checking the "no" box (see previous mention of fatty's with Doritos fingers in previous posts for evidence to this sad, sad fact... lolol). I was beginning to think NO ONE would check the "yes" box! hahahaha

And no... sadly, it isn't Scott Disick with a magic check to make my world whole and wonderful. lol

Their offer today really brought home the "end" of things... like, I know we're divorced and stuff, but while there's property and bills and kids... there are just so many ties that bind - and losing another one of those ties is bittersweet.

On the one hand, it's hard to walk those bedrooms and know that I won't ever tuck the kids into those beds ever again..... but it's also the same black and white checkered kitchen floor that won't see The Girl standing next to me and "cooking" with me at night... (and yes, by cooking I mean to say spilling, over-adding certain ingredients not limited to snot and the occasional drool..... lolol)... and it's also the living room that won't see our kids opening their Christmas presents..... (see... I *said* bittersweet... hahaha)

At the same time... it's a goodeffingriddance to the *couch* where El Capitan handed me his phone and Yoga Girls bouncy face came up on the message screen.... it's the kitchen table where during week two of our divorce saga El Capitan held my hands in his - promising me with those same loving eyes and kind words... "I don't hardly know her, it was an innocent flirtation... she means nothing to me - I don't see her or talk to her.... I promise......"

And then that night he was parked at her place.  (Which clearly means that for all intensive purposes El Capitan must be struck down with a serious case of night blindness where upon nightfall he can no longer see ANYTHING... because then it's clear that he's totally telling the truth.... right?  that seems totally reasonable to me.)

Then there's the infamous bathroom.... which I L.O.V.E... but it's also where I locked myself at night, with the fan on, and all the water running.... so the kids couldn't hear me crying.  alone. on a toilet.  Which, again, because of my so-called 'affection' for the malt liquor and smokes - is where I belong to be sitting:  alone on my 'throne' if you will...... Just call me Queen of the Fatties.  No need to bother with a crown and sash - just tie up some donuts with licorice and we'll call it good.

There are sooooo many things about my house I'm going to miss - so many memories not yet happened that will be buried there.... and yet, a few too many memories I don't care to recall  that I'm all to happy to leave behind..... not the least of which is the "magic" that failed to happen in the bedroom (ohh... SNAP - she just went there - didn't she? lolol)

It's certainly hard, at 37, to look around your life and suddenly all the mountains you've climbed are turning into slopes and you're just sliding back and back and back.... kind of like a really effed up game of adult Chutes and Ladders... you know? 

I think the hardest part for me... and for my clients - is that I'm losing the studio.  I can't afford to rent a "proper" studio space.... so, I will lose a large number of my client base as a result. 

ahhh...... there's the universe again - checking the damned "no" box.  crappers. lololol

So... final Olympic tally:  no health insurance, no photo studio - which means no real job, no savings to speak of, no retirement, no steady means of income, no home.....

Even still.... it's a good day:  some really nice people like my house and want to buy and live their own happily ever after in it... which it deserves:  it's a nice house.  And..... I'm about to head off and get to snuggle two of the most beautiful babies I've ever seen for the whole night!   And then....  I'm going to get to wake up (most likely in the wet-spot of an exploded diaper... lolol) and watch them laugh together and play (and fight over Little People and The Bee Movie... alot) - and get more snuggles and kisses and suddenly my cup runneth... runnith... run .. over?  You get the idea... lololol

One Day... one day at time, one new mountain at a time.... I'm pretty sure it's going to hard, but it'll be well worth the climb..........

***PS... challenge to the Male

This weekend was hard.... it's clear that despite best efforts: fighting with your ex is just going to be inevitable.

Even now, it's so hard to wrap my brain around it all... El Capitan doesn't think I'm due any answers for the who/where/when/how-long/why of things.... why is that so hard for men to understand?  lol

And then there's Yoga Girl..... already my stomach hurts just thinking about her. 

Then I got an email from a friend... a dear friend.  Long story short, she and I actually became friends because (several years ago) she was posting on a mutual friends myspace page about a relative of theirs who had lost their newborn to SIDS - and I sent her an email.

At the time, I was an Area Coordinator for Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep.  In those days,  NILMDTS was still in it's relative infancy and I was one of the three local photogs in Portland who were working to bring the program to our major hospitals in the Portland Metro area (I think there are like 40 photographers from Portland currenlty registered!).  Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep is an AM.AZING non-profit organization which provides (free) infant bereavement photography services for families who are facing the demise of their baby - this can be in utero (and we photograph the stillborn baby once it's born), or sometimes it's in a nursery as they turn off the machines, it can be any number of situations - so long as the baby is 25 weeks gestation or more and sadly.... has demised or will demise shortly after birth.

I was the Area Coordinator for St. Vincents at the time (and later brought the program to Kaiser Sunnyside), as well as helping our OHSU coordinator field her calls (one night at OHSU I photographed three different babies for three different reasons!)   In the twoish  years that I was with NILMDTS, I photographed over 70 babies who sadly.... didn't get to go home with their parents.

That's over 70 Moms who left a hospital with empty arms.  Sadly... there are millions more every year.

Calls for sessions came during the day, during birthday parties, holidays and in the middle of the night... because, frankly, death doesn't give a sh*t about anything - it just comes whenever it feels like it. Death... well - I'll be honest, death is ugly, painfully ugly.  Babies however... are *always* beautiful.  ALWAYS.  Whether they live to breathe in your hands, may be never took a single breath at all.... or they take their last breath in your hands: they are always, always beautiful.

I remember nearly all of 'my' babies, how many weeks they were, how small they were, how big they were, and most of the time, why they died.  Often I find myself thinking about several of them, and I often reflect on the bravery and strength and courage of their Mother's who left that hospital room empty handed - going home to pack up a nursery, give away the newborn clothes they received as gifts and bury the lifetime of dreams and hopes and plans that they had already made for that baby from that very first moment that they got those two pink lines when they pee'd on a stick.....

Because, those Moms:  they lose everything. 
They lose it all... and most of the time- for no damn good reason at all.  Just .... because.

So I saw the post on myspace and I contacted the lady posting - I'm pretty sure she thought I was an effing freak offering to photograph her relatives now demised infant... but she passed on my info and after that.... she and I became friends.

Several years later..... I would read a post from that same lady (who was now a good friend) and I knew by the title of the post that nothing good was going to come her way.... They were pregnant and had been for their ultrasound that day.... that day, her life fell apart.  That day, her hopes and dreams died a very slow, painful and public death.  That day, they found out that their baby boy had anencephaly.  This is a condition where the brain doesn't grow and, often, there is no skull past the eyebrows and the head is fully exposed.  It is what doctors consider "incompatible with life".

Instantly, I knew what my friend was facing........

I guess, sometimes, it's a perk having a friend who isn't afraid to talk about the impending death of your unborn child, the challenges about with it, how to try to deal with it.  I think I was able to be there for her in ways most of her other friends couldn't be there... and sadly, even some who couldn't handle what she was facing - just stopped being friends with her.

She would call me angry and crying and pissed.... sooooo pissed.  And rightfully so.  She was young and healthy and ate organic... organic dammit!  She exercised (no 40s of malt liquor and heavy smoking for her! lolol) - and yet... here she was with the sh*ttiest of news - each day bringing her both emotionally closer to her child and yet one day closer to his burial.

Now that... THAT is brutal.

I would tell her EVERY. SINGLE. TIME she called: that she had already gotten what she wanted: a son.

That her son was hers - and he was already perfectly who he was meant to be.  That she needed to accept him and the very short like he would have and try to come to terms with the fact that there wouldn't be more days... or in her case, even a few more hours.  She was blessed to have the time she would have and she should spend it loving him - because, as I promised her, she would have a lifetime to cry over him, but only a few short hours to hold him.  We are all destined to live the lives we are meant to live from the moment we're conceived.  Period.  I would tell her over and over that every life is important and valuable and the amount of time of that life IS NOT important.  No one ever say's.... "Crap, if Grandma had lived a more day - I would've loved her more...."

Love is love.  It doesn't understand time.  I think that's one of the few places love and death collide:  neither of them gives a sh*t about time.

That was years ago now, that my friends baby was born and passed away on the same day.  And here is she now... in spite of my many, many warnings to her to back up her computer..... lol - she can't find her sons photos and slideshow that I made for her.  Of course, I'll tear about all my hard drives until I find it and burn her a new one (hopefully) - but..... her email has been a wonderful reminder for me and brought back, in a flood of grateful pain - the memories of all those teeny, tiny sweet babies I held and said goodbye to.....

I have to learn to accept that my marriage is what it was meant to be.  Perhaps it wasn't meant to see those Golden Years... perhaps it wasn't supposed to "stand the test of time".  I can't celebrate its brutal, unfair and untimely ending.... but I *can* still try to celebrate the good times, the days that were happy - and certainly the years that brought me my own sweet, wonderful, amazing babies.

And I should just effing sack-up and (emotionally) move-on already!

No one died.... *I* was lucky - I shed 240lbs of cheating asswh*le...... period..... no infant casket was required for that.  And, when you stop and think about that:  infant casket.  I don't think there is a more cruel, unfair collection of words in the entirety of the English language:  infant casket.  They just don't belong together.

I often think of my Moms, that look of love and pain and betrayal in their eyes is... well, it's just not something you ever forget.  The loss of their babies... each and every one, is like a stain on my heart - a beautiful reminder that life is NEVER long enough and we shouldn't take a second of what we have for granted.  I know this sounds strange.... but I never understood life until I held death in my hands.

So.... my friends frantic email during my weekend of self-centered emotional turmoil was a reminder to me .... that what I had *was* perfect and it's unfair that it's gone... but it could be worse... much worse - and I'm just going to be grateful for what it *was* instead of resenting what it wasn't.  Hell... may be I'll look back one day and say I never understood "love" until I lived through the "death" of it.....

off to dig through hard drives now.... 

PS...if you wanna' read about Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep click on the link.  It is a wonderful non-profit org. and if you have anyone in your life facing infant demise, please pass that link on to them.  Also.... if you're one of those ladies like me - who now owns a wedding dress you no longer need to enshrine as a "symbol" of your love and marriage - you can donate it to these AMAZING ladies at HAIN - who will cut it up and make the most gorgeous gowns for the babies that NILMDTS work with.

One Internet Naysayer recently stated that clearly I was trying to use El Capitan's affair to become a millionaire by selling the magnets.....

Oh.... how I wish - actually, El Capitan's wishes for that, too... lololol

But sadly, even with my magnet sales (super duper thanks to everyone who bought one!), I'm not exactly scaling my pile of Scrooge McDuck gold coins in my living room... not yet anyway.  lolol

Then there was the whole Scott Disick fiasco where people were stating that Mr. Disick should by my house for me because  well.... clearly *he* has money. bwahahahahah

That's not gonna' happen either..... :)

So that had me thinking about money and life..... and how even though we didn't have much right now, we still had more than enough as far as I was concerned, and certainly we were much better off than we used to be.

Being a photographer is the only thing I've ever really done for a "living" since I was 19 years old.... which, frankly is a sad state of affairs because you would think that after 18 years of doing something I would be a hell of a lot better than I am now... lolol - but alas... there it is - 18 years!

I did weddings for 6 of those years.... 6 long, draining, drama-filled years that were filled with an insane amount of anxiety and worry and panic (all on my part, of course) because *if* you take doing someone's wedding as seriously as you *should* then it should cause mind-blowing amounts of stress.  At least... that's how I saw it.

So the year after I had our Baby Girl, El Capitan got the "big" promotion we had waited for.... and he told me I could stop doing weddings... which - was a dream come true!  Focus on the babies and totallyradcards.com and give up the sleepless nights and 14 hours days in the heat carrying a 50lb bag.  I pulled my business out of the bridal show and just. plain. quit. weddings!

We hadn't really every "done a budget".... so we were not at all prepared for HOW MUCH this would affect our families bottom line.... and Christmas that following year was R.O.U.G.H.

I had been saving up gifts cards from clients and was able to get The Boy a Wii for his room, and my parents bought and mounted him a TV to the wall in his room.  I bought furniture from the Goodwill and covered it in Superman stickers and spent alllll night on Christmas Eve pulling out his toddler bed and installing the Goodwill furniture and the Wii so that when he woke up on Christmas day, he had a totally brand new room.  His first "big boy room" - I spent a whopping $60 out of pocket for it too!

It was AWESOME.

The Girl ... well, she's always been my "little Mama", always loving baby dolls and feeding them and dressing them.... so I would go out every single night to the Goodwill - there are seven locations not far from our house - and I would scour the shelves for any kind of "nice" baby doll or a Disney Princess doll.  I would bring them home and clean their faces and wash their hair (you can find instructions for restoring doll hair online!!!! How did people survive before Google?.....) and I would spend days and days looking for doll clothes to fit them.

Some them were just wrapped up buck naked though... lol - she didn't seem to care much.  She had dozens of "babies" to open... she didn't know they should have come in pretty boxes with bows in their hair.

Then I figured out that people were donating HUGE bags of Beanie Babies.... so, instead of buying stocking stuffers, I found these huge bags of Beanie Babies for like $5 and $6, I'd pull out the cleanest/best ones and donate back the rest.  All in all, I bought like three bags of the Beanie Babies and their stockings were brimming over with smiley stuffed animal faces under the tree.

In the end, the massive pile of gift wrapped happiness under our tree was H.U.G.E - but cost me less than $125 for the two kids.....

Why did you have to go to so much trouble?  Where does all your money go you ask.....?  Medical bills.

Each year for the last five years running we totaled over $12,000 out of pocket (EVERY SINGLE YEAR!)  in medical expenses. :(  That year was really really bad... I had had VERY BAD dental work done.  For a year I went back and back and complained and the oh-so-lovely Dentist of Suck who told me that the constant pain in my face was due to my "grinding my teeth" at night.

Wrong.  It would later be discovered the May previous to this Christmasof Goodwills, that I had an infection in my skull that went into my spinal fluid (and seriously... nearly killed me) but because they couldn't figure out *why* I was so sick (because sadly, Dr. House is actually just a character on TV) - and they put me in a quarantine.

I missed Mother's Day with the kids that year because they weren't allowed to see me. :(

Anyhow.... after that ENTIRE mess (and I lost two top teeth due to the infection) - ... we just didn't have alot of extra money going around at the holidays.

I look back and instead of being sad or "ashamed" at that time, I was proud.  I was proud that I was able to find all the things that would make my children smile on Christmas morning even though I didn't have credit cards or extra money to spend.  It was a great Christmas..... we were happy.  It's so hard to think about that now.... that we were happy then:  a happy, whole family.

I was happy because even then I knew that there were people who had it *much* worse than we did - we still had our home, heating, running water... and each other...... those basics we often take for granted.

Right when we were married I was working for a wonderful Single Mom and she had done very well for herself in the business world but she had shared with me that when she had first become a single mom she was so broke that the only food she got was the food that was left on her sons plate after she had put him to bed.  She would lie and tell him that she "ate at work", so he wouldn't feel bad or ashamed.  Then after she put him to bed, she'd get his plate back out of the fridge and finish what was left... and sometimes it was nothing.

I was so inspired by her and by her true sacrifice as a Mom.  Pure Amazing.

Looking back now... I'm glad I was happy even then.  I didn't waste the precious years I had as a whole family and as a wife being angry or frustrated with our situation...we *never* fought about money: ever.  We just made do and made the best of what we had.. and I'm so so so glad we did now because instead of fighting over the holidays about what we didn't have or what we couldn't give the kids - in the end - we gave them the gift of a whole family opening presents at Christmas... which is something I can't buy them this year.  At all.

So sure.... it would be nice for someone to buying a million magnets (oh... and I can think of like at least THREE local families who find themselves housed immediately if I had money like that! lol).... but, we all know that isn't going to happen... and honestly, what I have *now* is still more than most!  That's always a hard thing to remember... but it's true.... I figure so long as I can afford food for all three of us, we're better off than some and I'm very grateful just for that.

And seriously..... hit up your local Goodwill - not only do they employ some pretty cool people, but you might be SHOCKED to find some really awesome toys there! (I once bought an American Girl doll for $2.99 who cleaned up GREAT!)  and... the bonus?  You're helping people every time you shop there!

One Day.... One Day.... One Day.....

I think that hardest thing about Cheating and Divorce is not only the unfairness of it all..... but it's the doors that open to your life that *Other* People can now walk through with a sense of ownership and misplaced belonging.

First and foremost, the Other Woman.  She (almost always) conducts herself as though The Wife is the problem.... which, of course is the bag of beans that was sold to her by The Husband for the priveldge of getting her sheets wet in the first place.  The Other Woman has this idea that she has "saved" The Husband from someone who was cruel to Him....  that's sometimes the case - but it's not *always* the case.....

Though, it begs the Question:  What could The Wife EVER DO that could ever be as cruel as having sex with someone else and ruining the safety and security of The Children's Home? 

The Answer:  Nothing.

Next.... you have The Friends, Friends of The Wife and Friends of The Husband.... usually both sets of Friends provide catastrophic advice that will fly in the face of Anyone trying to "co-parent".... advice like, "You should get an attorney and sue the b*tch".... or, most commonly, "You are the Father and you have Rights."

So, that begs the Question:  What happens when a Father slips and falls and drops his Parental Rights into the panties of The Other Woman....? 

The Answer:  Parental Rights should be something that is *earned* through love, devotion, time, caring and by ALWAYS putting The Children FIRST. 

Then you have Attorney's and Judge's who will use the Law of The Land to the best of Their ability and In The Best Interest of The Children.... but who will now, forever, have Power in Their Lives.

Power.

It's fightening to be The Wife, when One Day you were planning family trips in the fall to Disneyland... and suddenly One Day, The Wife is waiting for letters from Court over the fact that The Wife "enforced" one of the previously agreed upon terms of The Dissolution. 

It all comes down to who builds Their Cross fast enough.... too bad, Most Wives are too buisy trying to rebuild The Tatters of a Family and The Children to be worried about building Their Own Cross.

It's like they say on The Airplane:  Please place your own oxygen mask over your face before you place the mask over your child's face.

Of course,  if The Father already strapped Himself to The Other Woman and jumped out of The Plane... that doesn't matter, right?

all my life I've been waiting for
I've been praying for
for the people to say
that we don't wanna fight no more
there'll be no more wars
and our children will play
one day x6
it's not about
win or lose
cause we all lose........

Sometimes, The Wife, has to give in to The Pain and The Bitterness a little... at least on Her Own, away from The Children... because She can't cry in front of Them, because They know why She Cries... and She can't Scream in front of Them ... because They know where The Screams come from.... She Can't be Angry in front of Them ..... because She doesn't want to teach Them to Cry, to Scream, to be Angry..... that's no way to Live.

Instead, She puts on Their 'Oxygen Mask' first ...... and hopes there is still time to put Hers on.********

ONE DAY by Matisyahu
http://matisyahuworld.com/order/

****Hang in there.... We will be back to our usual Peppy Blogs tomorrow.... because One Day turns into Another Day and Another Day and Another.... and only WE have the POWER to make it a Day Worth Living in Joy, Love and Happiness.********