I managed (somehow) to pull off taking the kids to the Great Wolf Lodge in December (our annual family tradition if you remember).... and we even had our time booked to eat lunch in the Ginger Bread House.
Woofreakin'Hoo.

We arrived on our first day, running a bit late because I'm always trying to squeeze out one more client job before the holidays... but we made it!  We checked into our room and hit the slides asap.  It's crazy to think about, because the first year GWL was open and we went, The Girl was only 9 months old and I mostly floated around the Basketball Pool singing to her and stuff.... and now she's all:  I wanna' go on the BIG SLIDE!

Oh... and aside from public bathrooms, amusement parks are a single parents *worst* nightmare.  There are two of them and ONE of me.  So rides that take multiple riders - someone has to sit out... but I can't very well leave my 5 year old alone and unattended.... sigh.
So it's complicated.

Also, I'm insanely afraid of heights and going fast.... so these super high up and twisty and fast and scary water slides are a no bueno for me.... and to my GREAT SURPRISE:  The Boy and The Girl went on them ALONE!

YES! ALONE!  There were my kids going on their biggest and wildest and scariest water slides:  
BY. THEM. SELVES!!!!!

So... it was all water slides and good times and snacks and arcade games....

Until The Girl sh*ts on the floor.
True story.
Allow me to explain.

You can't bring food into the park.  You check in on day one, do the slides and dinner and then they have a story time and this animatronic tree that sings (the kids love it) - and then you go to bed.  You wake up, eat breakfast and check out of your room but you can stay at the park until 9 pm.  Clearly, with wet kids in bathing suits, you just stay there onsite and eat whatever food they have, you don't leave.

Day one went great... I was SO PROUD of the my kids:  unafraid and brave and having a good time.
After sooooooo many personal failures of the last few years, I always try to hold onto these moments of parenting success because the feeling of being "on top" is all too fleeting for me.... 
(foreshadowing here).

Day two we got up *early* and hit the park by 9am.  We swam and played and hung around until it was time to get out to have lunch in the Ginger Bread House.  The kids were ecstatic.  I usually put them in dressy(ish) clothes, but this year I let the girl wear her sacred Frozen Dress.
I got my usual, The Boy got his usual (grilled cheese sandwich) and The Girl got her usual (mac and cheese).

This time though.... three bites in, The Girl say's:  Mommy... this doesn't taste very good, it's rubbery.

We send it back but The Girl doesn't want something else to eat.. which I find a bit odd because we haven't had food since breakfast but we had plans to get ice-cream upstairs on our way back in and so I don't worry about it.
Yes, yes... ice-cream *can* be a meal:  don't judge.

So, we finish up lunch and pictures and the kids play some games in the lobby and then we head upstairs for The Boy to play some arcade games.... it's all going well... and suddenly The Girl HAS to go the bathroom.
No biggie.  We're almost *6* - The Girl has actually *never* had an accident in public, so at first I'm not too worried... The Boy is playing some Batman driving game and suddenly The Girl is like... in a panic?

I make The Boy jump off his game (he's none too pleased) and I go running after The Girl who is now dashing for the bathroom.  The bathroom... is across the park, down a flight of stairs and then alllll the way back across the water park to the locker rooms.
It's not close.

As we are running past the ice-cream shop, I'm like - "Hey, didn't you want to get ice-cream?"
Because let's face facts:  sometimes I'm just plain stupid. lololol

The Girl looks at me like I'm the dumbest person on the earth because at this point I realize that she's jogging for the doors and using one hand to hold her butt closed....... 
Hmm.... that's odd.

We get inside the park and usually the first thing that hits you is the steam and the humidity... but instead there's this smell.... like a really bad sh*t smell.

As we crest the top of the stairs I'm thinking....."man... did someone take a crap around here?  It reeks like poop in here now..... that's odd"

The Boy is running after The Girl and I'm running to keep up with them both and we make it to the bathroom.  I tell The Boy to stay outside and he's questioning why we ran past the ice-cream shop and didn't get any..... 

The Girl and I enter the bathroom and all of a sudden I hear:  MY PANTIES!!!! MY PANTIES!!!!!!

And there it is:  sh*t on the bathroom floor.
FROM. MY. CHILD.  DEAR. GOD..... what just happened????

Oh... and fun fact:  human poop coils up like dog poop when launched from mid-air.
Who knew?

I'm instantly horrified for The Girl AND for the fact that this is a WATER PARK. 
NO ONE IS WEARING SHOES!!!!!  ugh.

So, The Girl jumps on the toilet and I'm trying to help her, meanwhile I'm yelling:  "PLEASE WATCH OUT FOR THE POOP!!! THERE IS POOP ON THE FLOOR!!!!"

The Girl is sobbing and sh*t is EVERY.WHERE.
It's in her hair.  On her face.  On her hands.
Up her back and down her front.... the Frozen dress is COVERED.
I'm begging her to keep her hands away from her face, but she's crying and keeps reaching up with sh*t covered hands to wipe away her tears.
Awe.some.

Now I can hear women talking and steering their children around the big pile of steaming sh*t on the floor.
Good. TIMES.

So I pull the dress off The Girl and she's filling bowl after bowl, flush after flush and it smells so awful.
And she's crying and at this point I'm crying....

And The Boy is outside the door yelling... Mom - is everything ok?  Why does the bathroom smell so bad?
And alll the while a big pile of steaming sh*t sits front and center on the bathroom floor.

So I leave the stall and I'm trying to clean up the sh*t on the floor... which is a task because it's NO small pile.... and I'm there:

Waive hand.
Wait for five inches of paper towel to dispense.
Tear.
Waive hand.
Wait again....
Tear again.....

F*ck me.  
I'm practically dancing with this machine and I have barely enough towel to dry wet hands let alone clean up a pile of poo from the floor.
Sigh.

I get the poop cleaned up - but it's in the tile groove... so I cover the entire area in paper towels (more waiving and dancing commences to make this happen) and I go flying outside to find a worker to help me....

Trying to explain to some teenage kid that your child just took a giant sh*t on their floor and has also re-decorated an entire stall and that I'm going to need someone with proper cleaning supplies to come and disinfect is utterly pointless... but eventually they agree to send someone.

This poor sweet little girl shows up and is pretty nice about the whole thing... until I open the stall door and she nearly throws up in her own mouth.

Again.  COVERED.  The Girl was COVERED.
Sigh.

So The GWL lost a few towels in that experience....and The Girl has a shower of sh*t shame... then I dressed her in my pajamas, I grabbed our stuff, The Boy and I headed for the door....

Trip over.
The Boy was crushed.  The Girl couldn't wait to leave.... and me....?
Well, it's just one more example of how life continues to be sh*t-tastic.

Two hours later we arrive home and The Girl.... is fine.  
Traumatized... but fine.

Isn't that really a theme for me..... Traumatized but fine.
Sigh.
 

Day Three of being completely, totally out..... and somehow:  I'm still here.
Still happy.
Still gay..... just in case anyone was wondering.

I should answer a few things for people - Scott wants to know what the "flock is with all the gay stuff"?  Well.. I'm a lesbian.  Shirley say's she saw the break-up with Carhartt coming... which is odd because Carhartt didn't see it coming - and *I* didn't see it coming.... it just is and it's very sad and heartbreaking for both of us.  So much so, I'm not going to write much more about it.  No one did anything wrong - Carhartt is a fantastic person... but sometimes love isn't enough.  

Shirley also say's the media will have a "field day" with this.... but I'm guessing they won't.  I could be wrong - but I truly don't think they give a sh*t.

There's also concern from some of my very favorite readers - Charlie... I'm speaking to you - that I somehow don't like men or that I now "hate" men..... nothing could be further from the truth.

In fact.... it's my distinct *lack* of dislike for men in general that had me thinking (for many years) that I was really just a straight girls obsessed with boobs.... other peoples:  not my own. lol

The hardest part about growing up gay in the 1980s was that.... it was the NINETEEN-EIGHTIES!!!!!  I had no exposure to anything or anyone "gay"...... also, and PARENTS - please listen to what I'm writing:

I did not *know* I was "gay" as a child..... this is really really REALLY important for you to hear.  I knew that I liked girls... I knew that I thought boys were ok - but I never had a keen desire to figure out how *they* had sex... or whatever..... so without any exposure to other people like myself - I had no idea who I was, only that I *IDENTIFIED* as a girl who liked girls.

The word *identify* is crucial here.
As a child NO ONE had to come up to me and like "educate" me on being gay - especially as a very young child - talk about sexual relationships isn't very appropriate.... however, if I had been exposed to a friend have same-sex parents, or seeing some on a popular TV Show or reading about them in a good - in a *positive* light.... then I could have *seen* that and found a social reflection of my own *identity*.

Being a lesbian is less about going down south and *more* about who I am.  I have stood in a straight world for a very, very long time .... and never fit in.  I always felt different.  I always felt separated from them.  I admired their marriages and talk about passionate sex.... and then I went home and tried creams and potions to *try* to make sex with a man something that I enjoyed *as much* as other women said they did... but no manner of creams ever did the trick.  I assumed I was broken that something was wrong with me.... so I just kept trying......
Sigh.

Ariel doesn't grow land-legs to run on the beach hand in hand with Princess Ericka.... Jasmine doesn't munch on a flying carpet with Alanna..... Janet Jackson and Madonna and Cyndie Lauper sing songs about boys - no one sings songs about falling in love with girls..... (if *only* I knew what "She Bop" ACTUALLY freakin' meant.... lololol).

My entire world was straight.
Period.

Like most tweens I just wanted to be liked... I wanted to rock my Debbie Gibson inspired waist high pants rolled up at the ankle complete with giant bangs and more hairspray that the ozone layer cares to remember..... and every movie ends with The Girl getting The Boy ..... so I wanted a Boy, too.

I wanted their attention.  I wanted to wear their lettermans jackets to *feel* like I belonged.  

I've written about my first kiss.... but the version you read was made slightly rosy......  The truth is that my middle school boyfriend *was* a football player... AND our first kiss *was* rather perfect with me placed a top a yellow striped curb behind the Burger King..... BUT.  That first kiss only came AFTER The Middle School
Boyfriend had made out with my Middle School Best Friend in my parents garage on Halloween night.

The Middle School Boyfriend came over dressed as a Zombietypething, I was dressed as Scarlet O'Hara and my Middle School Best Friend was dressed as an 80s rocker chick.... we went out trick or treating as a group and The Middle School Boyfriend kept trying to kiss me in the darker corners of the track - tugging my white gloved hand to spots under tree's or behind driveway pillars.... and I kept saying no.

I didn't want to kiss him.
I didn't want to kiss any boys.
Which was so f*cking confusing.... I wanted their attention.  I would lay around on the bedroom floor literally DYYYYYYY.ING for this boy or that boy to call the rose colored phone in my bedroom..... and when they would call:  I would float on cloud nine for days.... 
But kissing..... yuck.  No thanks.  Nope, not interested.
Not. At. ALL.

At the end of the night I had gone in the house for something and said Middle School Boyfriend and Best Friend made out in the garage where the neighbor girl saw them and told me the next day..... 
BRO.KEN.HEART.ED.

But I blamed myself... if I had kissed him any of the times he had tried - then he probably wouldn't have wanted to kiss her.... so I didn't tell them that I knew. I kept wearing the jacket to every class, every day - no matter *how* hot it was in the classroom ... I wasn't going to let the weather affect my connection to fitting in... f*ck no.

And the next weekend .... I relented and kissed him.
It was magical.... as far as first kisses go.... and I prefer my rosy view of it - but deep down.... even at the time - I knew that I didn't want to be kissing him.  Even from the very, very beginning, intimacy with men would be something I felt I was obligated to do - not something I wanted to do.

It was a very confusing time.... one that would hang on right up 8 months ago:  How can I *like* men - and *still* be gay?  How could I have desired their attention but not THEM?  It makes little sense to 38 year old me *now* -..... and needless to say - 14 year old me didn't bother trying to sort it out.  Bring on the string of boys for sweaty-hand holding and awkward kissing and exchanging notes in the hallway and sneaking out at slumber parties for late night walks.....

No one ever told me that it would okay if *I* didn't want to kiss boys.... and they sure as sh*t didn't tell me that I might like kissing girls.... so I just of ... existed that way.  I didn't dream about boys or girls.... I didn't understand my own identity, so I didn't know that I *could* dream about girls and the ground wouldn't actually open up swallowing me whole and dragging me down to hell.
Yeah... Church was kind of that for me.

If I saw a girl - usually a boyish looking girl.... and I got "those feelings".... I would literally RUN from the room sure that the boyish girl and everyone in the room could see my inside's lighting up like a freakin' heat map... and then no one would like me:  no one would be my friend.

So I held onto those lettermans jackets for as long as I could wrapping myself in the social security of their wool bodies and leather sleeves.... 

It's a hard thing to explain... people who are gay, for the most part, absolutely get it.... my straight friends kind of do.... and then kind of don't.  Someone asked me once why it even matters if I like girls who look like boys anyway - what's the difference.....?

For several decades I tried to tell myself that there wasn't a difference.... I was wrong.
I didn't know it then, and by the time I *knew* it... it took me nearly two decades to accept it.
Sigh.

I was lonely.... so .... so.... lonely.  I knew I was different - I felt.... wrong and shameful.  I thought that if people found out that I didn't want to be kissing boys - that they would hate me and not hang out with me...I thought my family would disown me because sooooo much work was being put into making sure I was a "good girl" and right or wrong... my family didn't identify strap-ons and making out with girls as "good".  
NOT. AT. ALL.  

I don't blame anyone... it was a different time, a different place - and to that end, kids *now* have it easier than I did.... and they don't at the same time.

Gay kids *now* have to go to school with kids of parents LIKE ME.  Adults who were raised in a somewhat homophobic world.... and I think even thought our KIDS are getting the message ... some of us still aren't.  We're talking about fags and queens and whatever.... and our kids are hearing those things and bullying kids at school... or worse yet - your kid *hears* you say "fag" and knows it's a "bad thing".... so they stuff down their own feelings - afraid to be who they are - afraid to be themselves.... afraid to be called a 'fag' by their own parents because kids always want to be good - not bad.
So the message for faaaar too many kids is that you don't want to be 'bad', 'fags' are bad... so don't be a fag.

At least .... that's how I felt.  Even without growing up in a family that used those words - there was (I felt) an underlying message that doing anything other than growing up and marrying a man would be bad.... 

And so began decades of self-hate.... anger at myself for not being able to be "normal"....  disappointment with myself when my mind would battle with my instincts.... and my mind would always win - leaving my heart in turmoil.

Turmoil because I *liked* men..... they open your car door and bring you flowers and talk on the phone with you for hours.... they complete you in a middle school social circle.... and I liked ALLLLLL of those things... but I didn't want their hands on me.  I didn't dream about boys.  I didn't dream about making with them or doing other things with them.... mind you - I didn't dream about girls either - so without understanding myself.... I was just left in turmoil.

I didn't need anyone to show me lesbian porn or some such thing.... but - had I just *seen* a positive portrayal of two women - holding hands, kissing on a sidewalk, raising a family.... being... *normal* - then I would have know that *I* was normal.... and I might have been a very different person.

I didn't need anyone to explain 'sexuality'.... however, I did need someone to validate how I 'identified' - which was as a girl who liked girls and a girl who would later discover that the earth would not open up the first time she made out with a girl.....

Four years ago today I was being prepped for surgery and we were waiting for our beautiful 10 pound baby girl to join us.

She was eager - almost three full weeks early - there was talk about her lungs, but I was pre-eclamptic and going downhill fast, so there wasn't time to wait.  My Mom was with me and they wheeled us into the OR - and I was sooooo excited to get to meet my sweet and girl and even *more* excited that it was St. Patty's Day!

My biological father was born and raised in Northern Ireland - so I'm in the only "American" in my Da's family.  We've never had a functional relationship... and I refrain from being public about why because he had other children whose lives I don't wish to ruin with the details of the rare kind of dirt bag he's been to me... lol

However.... I'm about as 'black Irish" as it comes.  Black hair, pale skin, red cheeks, light eyes.... oh, and I can tell a story like non-other.  Clearly.  

I was *super* stoked for The Girl to get an Irish birthday.
Today started with a crown (that say's Irish Princess) and a wand!
Which - The Girl - was thrilled about.  The Bubbie has always made her birthday dresses - and today was no different... though I think we're rounding the corner to the end of being able to stuff her into baby-doll dresses. lol  She looked totally adorable... see picture above.  hahahahaha

So the day started with a birthday song and lots of kisses and excited with The Girl telling me that she wanted to go to her "Princess Party......"  ... sh*t.  No Princess Party planned. lol  I had driven around for three hours on Friday to find Disney Princess plates and napkins for her cake and stuff... I was hoping to hell a $1 crown from Target and the right plates would suffice.

We got up and got dressed.... and then we headed for birthday breakfast.  When El Capitan and I split up, I wrote up in our Parenting Plan that I get the children on their birthdays - I mean... they were *literally* cut out of my own body... so I kind of felt I got to call dibs on that day.  El Capitan agreed.

The run-up to The Girl's birthday I was trying to decide what we should do.  He usually see's them on Saturday - and he could just celebrate with them on that day..... but I really felt like we were *past* that.  I felt like we were in a space and time where we could celebrate this *family* event *as* a family.  I kind of think that that's how it should be.  So on Wednesday I asked El Capitan what he thought about the four of us having breakfast for The Girl's birthday.  He agreed.

I *cannot* tell you just HOW excited The Girl was when I told her..... there was dead silence for a few seconds - and then she screamed and clapped her hands and jumped up and down... like- for a *while*.
sigh.

Why the f*ck has it taken us this long to get here.......?
sigh.

So we arrived and El Capitan was already at a table - and we ordered..... only I didn't notice that El Capitan only ordered a $2.95 side order and no actual breakfast.  He said he didn't want me "paying for his food".... sigh.  I think that's a silly game and I'm not taking the bait.  I invited you to *family* breakfast - clearly I'm paying... get f*cking breakfast:  it's not that hard.  lol

But we had a *great* time at breakfast.  The kids had a blast and it occurred to me that it's been almost a year since we were all together like this... *in fact* - the last time we had dinner out as a family was the Saturday before I found out about Yoga Girl *AND* was THE NIGHT that El Capitan went to her house and had sex with her.

What a "last meal" that sh*t turned out to be... lololololol

Sitting at the table. looking at once *was* and what "should be" ..... and piecing together the timeline - I should have gotten upset or mad.... but honestly:  it didn't at all.  Not even a little bit.  I was more annoyed he would order a freakin' meal. hahaha

I brought up Yoga Girl (again) because now that we are *quickly* rounding the corner to them living together for a *year* AND.... drum roll:  Yoga Girl is taking El Capitan home to meet her parents soon..... YES - that is happening.  lolol

I pointed out that her family  *might* wonder how it's possible that she hasn't met his children.... in fact - that's something I wonder about and something we should change.  He still resists.  Which is fine - it's his relationship, not mine - and I have to wait for him to think it's the "right time" with Yoga Girl to do it.

I say it's the right time.... the kids want to meet her - it's been a source of hurt and confusion for The Boy - and I think it's holding the three of them back from moving forward as their own unit.  I told him that we (the adults) need to sit down and talk about discipline styles, etc - and come to agreements on how situations are handled, etc.

Then, the *THREE* of us need to introduce Yoga Girl to the children.  I think it's important for *them* to see me in the same time and space as Yoga Girl - they need to understand that while I don't approve of some choices that have been made - I can *still* support the person and the role of adult/authority she would play in their lives as someone who is in a committed relationship with their Father.

I don't have to like her... I'm not the one f*cking her.... lol
That's El Capitan's job.

I do however, have a responsibility to help lay a foundation for the children to be able to find stable footing in a relationship with her and help them bond with her.  If it doesn't work... well, it's not the first relationship that will have failed them and somehow I doubt it'll be the last.... BUT - if we can teach them how to be tolerant, how to be compassionate, how to be understanding that you are *NOT* going to live every f*cking thing about everyone in your life.... but you can to accept some people for who and what they are and find ways to love and befriend them anyway. 

That's just how life works.

Even still.... El Capitan isn't a fan of that plan - though he agree's we should introduce her together.... just not yet.  That's cool.  I just don't want to be the reason things aren't moving forward.

NOW.  Let's be *super* clear because people in my own life have given me tons of sh*t about this - "Should she even be around the children......?"  - shouldn't I fight to keep her away from them?

In the first place... unless she beats them and sets them on fire - a judge is *not* going to keep here away from my children.  Let's be real.   And last time I checked she wasn't stoking up on matches, so I think I'm pretty good there.

In the second place.... she's young.  Very young.  I've said it since the start - people who are young frequently make choices and decisions they shouldn't.  She was wrong to f*ck my husband.  It does make me qustion the kind of person she is - her moral code... does she even have one?  It looks a touch doubtful.... but again - she's young.

She *is* however, in a long term relationship with my children's Father and as such she is now in a role in their lives that *demands* my acceptance and support of her.  I DO NOT have to support all her actions. or her past choices.... *but* - I do have to support any positive relationship she wants to have with The Boy and The Girl.  

I'm pretty sure *they* want that:  the kids.

So.  Today, I think, might be the first step in getting that goal accomplished, which I think would be really good for all of us.  However.... I *Really* want to point out that we are NOT YET done with 11 months of this hot f*cking mess.... and LOOK AT ME.

Woof*ckingHoo.

I'm all progressive and happy.... baggage free - and facilitating functional relationships between El Capitan and the kids AND.... currently enjoying my own friendship with El Capitan.  BooYah.  I think this is huge and not something most women who have walked in my shoes can pull off.... I'm pretty proud of myself.

My Aunt called the other day - some newsy thing did an online story on the top ten worst exes.... I was listed as number two.  Sigh.  Really?  Honestly.... any man would be *lucky* to have an ex-wife as freakin' NICE as I have been.... yes - *I* made a funny sign that *WE* decided to use..... but it ended there.  Or... here... or in a Book - that HE has had approval over the content.

See.... NICE.  That's me. :)

So  Happy St. Patty's Day.... and HAPPY UNITED FAMILY BIRTHDAY for our Girl... she's the greatest. :)

For the record... YES, you are reading that correctly:  I did 17.5 miles today on the bike... woofreakinghoo.

Honestly, I was *kind of* expecting a ticker-tape parade when I was done... but sadly, there was none. lololol

I've been working pretty hard at this.... I'd would nearly the 50 pound mark and doing it *without* potions or pills or shakes or meal replacement... well:  that's kind of a big damn deal.  At least in my world it is. :)

I have a friend - Miss Erin (and we'll all be hearing more from here very soon here) who is challenging me and driving my workouts from afar.  She dropped the hammer on 11 miles yesterday:  so I went 13.  She responded with a "goal" of 17 miles.... so I went back today and nailed 17.5.  (Yes, I know I've written that twice now... hahahahha).

I *think* I might get a better workout on a treadmill......?  But, I'm afraid to push things too far and irritate my knee... after all this hard work, all I need is an 'injury' as an excuse not to come back and then fall behind on all my progress.  It's always seems to work that way... you know?

Anyhow.  I have a specific bike that I like.  The first bike in the row is *really* hard to push on an 8.  The second bike in the row I can do 10 miles at a 10 in a solid 38 minutes.  The third bike is a bit loosy-goosy and I feel like it's getting away from me even at an 11..... so - long, boring detailed story short:  the second bike is *my* bike.  :)

Yesterday the gym was *packed* and I had to wait for a bike to come open.  There was also an older lady with a gym membership person waiting for a bike.... and when the first one came open I already had the paper towel and sanitizer for the woman to use (I had instinctively grabbed it before noticing there weren't any bikes open.. sigh).  Then I went back and got more for when the next bike opened up for me. 

The guy who got off the first bike had a laugh that I cleaned up his sweaty bike for him.. .we had that 'nod' and he walked down to the weights.

Today - I arrive *early* determined to get in my hour plus that I know I'm going to need to try to hit 17 miles - and thankfully *my* bike is open and next to it is the sweaty gym guy from the day before.  I sit down and he gives me the nod... and me - clearly knowing *no* boundaries in the gym - say hello and we chat for a second.

I am *not* gym cool... lololol

He has his headphones on and I, of course, am watching New Moon while drinking from my Team Edward New Moon water bottle.... oh yeah:  that's how sad I am :)

And suddenly this giant brick wall of a man comes up on my other side - he's nice, I've seen him around and I asked him a question about the treadmill the week before - and he offers me a card with a number on it.  We chat for a few seconds and he heads downstairs as well. I tuck the card into my Kindle holder and look up to see Gym Guy, headphones out, and staring at me .....

"Did he just give you his phone number.......?"  He asks.

"Oh, gawd no... lolol - can't you see all the other girls here - I doubt *that* man thinks I'm *his* type".... I reply.

"Umm... ok - I don't see why not.. but then what did he give you?"  He asks again.

"oh, he offered to help me with some personal training stuff...."  I explain.

Gym Guy doesn't seem sold on this - and we end up chatting for a while after that.... nothing like getting all red faced, sweaty and out of breath while *not* lying under a man, but instead sitting awkwardly next to him struggling to hit that 17th mile....
sigh.

Did I already say how *uncool* I am at the gym?

Do people really do that....?  Pick people up at the gym?  I mean - isn't there some kind of 'unspoken' rule about not 'flirting' or trying to pick people up while they are working out?  I should think there is... And I'm 1000000000% certain that the brick wall man really was just offering to help me.  I think that's one thing I've learned about going to the gym - once people see you has a 'regular' - someone they see every day - they are nice and offer to help you... which is really, really nice. :)

I picked up the kids and we were heading home.  Lately, I've been trying to talk to The Boy about going to "real school".  I've been looking into some private school options - I figure if I'm willing to stick it out at home for the long hall, and I work full time - then I can afford to put them both through private school.  BUT - this is something I have to warm the boy up to.....

Out of the blue in the back seat I hear a sniffling.....

"Mom.... Please don't make me go to 'real school' because the same thing is going to happen again...."  The Boy cries.

"What same thing?" I ask.

"The bullies will hunt me and kick me and beat me up and call me nerd.... Like last time."......." He states.

For a second I wonder - is this an active imagination?  I know he had trouble at school... but - perhaps he's just remembering it to be worse than it was?   "Honey, when did you have that happen..?." I ask him.

"At Barnes mom - Austin. Every school has an Austin mom - I just know it". The Boy continues to cry.

Ah... yes:  Austin.
My first introduction to Austin was when The Boy - age 5 - tells me that he and his "new friend" at school play "penis tag".  I just about threw up in my own mouth... but I held it together.  I asked him for details, which he didn't really provide... so I dressed him for school and called the Principal on my way in.  They called in a counselor and had a meeting with him and with this kid. 

Turned out that 'penis tag' involved Austin chasing down The Boy and punching him in the nuts.
Awesome.

Nothing happened to Austin, The Boy came home pretty much traumatized from the whole ordeal and I asked that in the future - the two boys be kept apart during recess.  But... it's public school:  185 Kindergarteners - and only 9 teachers on the play ground... so then this happened:

"Today Austin grabbed my face and breathed chocolate milk breath into my mouth."
"Today Austin chased me down and punched me in the stomach."
"Austin held me against the wall and kicked me in the ankle."
"Austin pushed me down in the puddle at the slide today....."

and on it went.

In the end, after The Boy was in tears every day on the way to school - we pulled him out in March and started homeschooling him.  In the two years since then, he's loved homeschooling and he's *very* social... but I worry as time goes on - as a single Mom - that both the children will need *more* that just me in their lives...

So, I'm driving and thinking about how to respond, and as I'm saying  to The Boy - "Anywhere you go in life, you're going to meet people you don't like, or who you feel are going to bull you - but you just have to......."

and The Boy cuts in with this fanf*ckingtastic gem:  "You know what Mom... this is happening because Dad was selfish.  He chose his girlfriend over me and now we don't have a house and I don't have a room and everything had to change..... and now I have to go to school and get bullied.  And that makes me angry, Mom."

Hmm... well, isn't that just rather craptastically true......?  sigh.
I let the car go silent for a second.. because I want to say the right thing.  He's so clear in his conviction of his father - and the truth is, where it not for our current circumstances - I would never consider anything but homeschooling him... so I'm *really* trying to find an honest argument to what he said.

In the end, while The Boy continues to cry silent little tears while looking out the window, I finally said this:  "I'm not sure if that's totally true or not... we might have sent you to 'real school' one day - I honestly don't know.  and, yes, you are right, things changed because Daddy made a bad decision - BUT - sometimes things in life happen that we don't like, and we have to just keep going..... we have to make the best of things because we don't have any other choice."

More silence.... then I realized that I was missing the most important part:  "Actually buddy, you *do* have a choice - you can either lay down and be sad and cry and feel angry about what happened or why it happened or who you think made it happen...  - which is kind of sucky way to live... - OR - you can accept things *even* if you don't like them - and just make the best of it - you have the choice to make it better... and you're really good at making things better."

I turned around to face him at the light, The Boy sniffled loud, glaring at me through his glasses with a look that I *thought* said "I call bullshit on that, Mom...."  but *instead* The Boy said, "Yeah... but that's not very fair to me Mom - that's not right..... "

"I know pal... I know....."  I started to say.

"But... you know - I guess that's kind of what happened to you.... so I guess I'll just have to do it, too".  he stated.

Wow.... I almost couldn't drive when the light turned green.  How does he put so much together?!?! How does he draw so many of the dots together to make such a clear picture of what's happening to us?  You think you can shield them from everything - certain conversations, fighting, etc.... but, I'll tell you what:  nothing takes the wind out of your 17.5 mile sails like a dose of reality from your 8 year old.
sigh.

Oh... an in spite of voluntary promises to the contrary... Coffee Guy never called.  I think I can safely assume that he *won't* call as it is no longer the 1990's and I'm pretty sure (or at least *very* hopeful) that people are no longer subscribing to the whole "The Rules" thing and waited three days.... plus:  it's been four.  hahaha
He was a nice guy, very sweet, great listener... but I think in the end, there were just too many crossed wires - I mean.. c'mon - I accidentally professed my 'undying love' for a virtual stranger (even if I *did* think I was writing the person it was *really* meant for.. my BFF) - and I think that that would creep anyone out. lololol
Lesson learned.... well played cyber karma... well played. hahaha

Onward and upward..... :)

Life is getting a little bit busier, leading up the book signing.... are *you* coming? lol

I'm pretty stoked about it - I'm not sure how many people are going to be there, in fact... I worry that it'll just be me, my family and a few friends... but after having my fat ass strewn across the internet for people to prey upon.... it certainly won't be the most embarrassing thing that's happened to me this year. lololol

I have a TV interview on Tuesday morning - and I was talking to the Producer on Friday afternoon and she saying that she really liked The Blog.  She said she reads a lot of blogs, and mine sticks out in her mind - so much so, she's been coming back to read more outside work.  (hi there!) I was kind of excited to hear that.... it's hard to know where I stand.  I can see my progress (from the first blog post) - and I'm proud of that, but I still don't really feel like a 'blogger' - so it's hard to know how I'm doing compared to others.  I'm looking forward to doing their show on Tuesday - it's really humbling that they asked.

On that note..... I can't remember who I was talking to the other day, but they said something like, "Oh well, this has all worked out so well for you!  You must be loving all this attention and the media and The Book?"I am very proud of The Book.... but, I would trade it all in and go back to February 1st of last year and put a stop to all of this if I could.... if for no other reason:  for my children.
Period.

Mind you.... now that's I'm here, I  suppose it's not a crime to enjoy just a *tiny* bit of this vodka I've been making... right? lolololol

So, Friday I was busy with working with producers and whatnot.  (kind of fun to say that!) - and then we had to go to the gym... even though I was tired and didn't want to.  Then I took the kids to Red Robin where shakes and smoothies and birthday Sundae's were had by allll!!!!!!!1.... except for me - no need to have to go *another* 5 miles at the gym. 

The Boy was super excited about it being his birthday weekend - it's odd that he's keenly aware of his own aging.  He said to me, "Mom... you know, I miss being a baby.... you held me all the time  and I didn't have to share or go to school and stuff."

He cracks me up.

Saturday was supposed to be "my" day with the children, because I get their birthdays in our parenting plan.  I felt like, since *I* was the one who actually birthed them... then I get to spend that day with them.  So... I *could* have kept them ... kept The Boy - all to myself..... but I knew that in his heart, he would want to see his Dad on his birthday, too.
sigh.

However, he also wanted to "go somewhere special".... so I arranged for El Capitan to come and take them for breakfast - and I went to the gym (and did 15 miles... thank you very much... on the bike that is) - and then I headed off to The Oregon Coast.

We had a great time going to Ecola State Park - and taking the 3 mile hike to the beach.  It was very lush and muddy and The Boy spent a good bit of time teaching me a few things he learned in Cub Scouts... how cute is that?  Oh... and he read me the sign about Cougars in the area - and he kept calling them Kruegers.... as in Freddy Kreuger.  That had me almost p*ssing my pants.

We'd be walking along and he'd say...."Remember to watch for Kreugers Mom........"

Then we drove to Cannon Beach and the kids played in the sand.... which is really crazy because we drove through snow and ice to get there - but once we were there it was nearly 50 and both my kids wanted to put on suits and get in the water.... Oregon weather is crazy.

So we dug in the sand and took a few pictures and the sun was shining..... we were: living.
It was kind of amazing, if I'm being honest... and you can see the picture proof above! lolol

Then we braved the drive home through the icey roads just in time for birthday dinner with family - and the highlight of the night was the candles on The Boy's cake that kept re-lighting themselves over and over every time he blew them out.  He was out of his mind about that..... The Girl thought it was the funniest thing she'd ever seen. 

It was a really great night..... which, kind of surprised me.  It wasn't until Sunday that I thought about how it had been a 'first' and it slipped right past me.... the "First" birthday as a divorced family.

I was glad... and a little bit proud - that it hadn't occurred to me until the next day..... I think that that means that I'm getting *past* this finally..... right?

It wasn't until the moment passed that I noticed how important it was.... I just faced it, made the right choice (about sharing the day) - and planned a great day for us.  I did allll the things I was supposed to do as My Kid's Mom - and the hurt feelings of the Ex-Wife were nowhere to be found.... except as an after thought the next morning. 

I kind took that as a bit of an unconscious - albeit HUGE - step forward for me... and by associated, for the three of us.  It's been really *hard* to get to this place where I don't have to think as much about *how* to handle things... now I'm just kind of 'handling' them without it making my stomach hurt, or making me cry in the bathroom with the door shut and the fan on.

That's pretty big.......

Today we hung around and then I went to the gym... even though I really didn't want to. lolol... I was slogging away on mile 8 - thinking about how much my calves were hurting, when I heard a thumping behind me.  I turned and saw an older lady trapped in her elliptical.

Somehow, she had gotten off track, lost her footing and wound up with her foot and leg twisted and in between the two 'feet' of the elliptical.  She had badly hurt her shoulder (landing pretty much on her shoulder and back) - and she was desperately fearful that her ankle would snap in the machine.  A few minutes later another man on a bike saw us on the ground and ran over - then we lifted her up and over the machine to un-tangle her ankle.   

I've looked at those ellipticals a few times, I tried it once, and quickly saw that my size and lack of coordination wasn't going to lead me anywhere but on my a$$ in no short order, so I've kept to the bike and the treadmill.... and even when it's hard and it hurts:  i just keep going.

After we helped the lady get help from the people who work at the gym - instead of quitting and heading to the hot tub..... I got back on the bike and did four more miles.  The "old" me would have used that intermission as an excuse to throw in the towel... but the "new" me, she's more resolved and she stayed the course.  Which again... I didn't think about until *after* I was showered and driving home. 

Two big steps for me in one weekend... I'll take them.... and, I'll learn from the lady who fell and stick to what I know, stick to what is safe - and I'll just keep moving forward.....

Mind you....... this surely has to be proof that exercise can be bad for you and I should throw in the towel and saddled up to a giant box of donuts... right? ... right!?!?!
sigh.

Probably not.  damn.

So my thoughts on the Brandi Glanville/LeAnn Rimes situation sparked a good bit of conversation.... so I thought I should provide some clarity on my views.

In the first place, I'm totally unimpressed with LeAnn Rimes.  She has acted - in my humble opinion - like a spoiled brat.  She seems to think she's not only entitled to the money from my wallet for her albums, but also others people's husbands as well.  And *after* she got caught cheating with some else's husband, she didn't appear to feel very badly about breaking up someone's elses family - as well as her own marriage.
sigh.

I've followed the story a little bit more closely since Brandi was on the same episode of The Jeff Probst Show as I was.... even at the taping though, I was surprised to find out she was still so *angry* two years AFTER the affair/divorce.

Honestly... and I mean this:  please shoot me if I'm still that bitter and angry about El Capitan two years from now.  May be Eddie Cibrian was *that* good in bed...

When I posted about LeAnn's recent interview - I don't know...... I mean, do you *really* think that LeAnn posted "off on vacation with my boys" just to piss off Brandi......?

I see posts like that *all* day on my facebook feeds - and honestly, I post stuff like that all the time about my own kids..... so, I guess I'm a bit naive, but I take what LeAnn posted at face value:  she's excited to be with Eddie and his sons.

Now - *clearly* I understand how much that would hurt if I were Brandi.  I GET it. I really do.  I am *not at all* looking forward to ANY other woman "playing happy families" with my kids... in fact, I live in *fear* of it. 

I don't want taking some other woman kissing their boo-boo's, tucking them in at night, taking them shopping, or anything.... I want them *all* to myself.

However, that's not the way that life works, and ...... isn't it selfish to want it that way?

Sure sure.... as Disney has taught us, there is *no shortage* of sh*tty step parents out there.  I get that... but, as *life* has shown me, there is also an equal abundance of *good* step parents out there. 

May be LeAnn is a liar... posting hurtful things to further punish the woman whose life she participated in decimating..... and for that she should suffer a lifetime of unhappiness.

Or.... may be she's moved on - she's happy, she loves being a step-Mom and she loves those boys.....?

Shouldn't Brandi - two years later.... be open to the idea that the later is possible?

So it begs the question.... what if this was Yoga Girl?

In the first place, at this current time, it appears that Yoga Girl doesn't want much to do with my children.  From the get-go, she *never* discussed the children with El Capitan while they were "dating".  This bothered me immensely from the start.... on the one hand I was *shocked* that El Capitan never talked about his children with her... like - in a good way, a concerned way or a bad way.... just:  not at all.
sigh.

Of course the idea of my husband discussing my kids with another woman p*sses me off to no end.... but at the same time, I was more alarmed at the idea that talking about the children in any capacity hadn't crossed his mind.

It's clear to me that when this started, this affair was *very* much about them and only them.  It wasn't about our children or any kind of collective family.  It wasn't about ... well, anything to do with our children.

The question is.... will it stay this way?

Will they get married?  Will they have a little home of their own where they make room for the children and start to fully share in the rearing of the children?  May be..... but since they currently *have* an apartment together with no room for the children at all... while that might actually happen:  it won't be any time soon.

Let's assume it does happen... even years from now - will I be ok with it.....? 

Well, in the first place - seeing this in my divorced future, I wrote into our parenting plan that "any romantic interest, casual or otherwise, cannot meet the children until all involved adults have met, discussed and agreed on a parenting plan relating to the rearing and discipline of the children."
Yes... my parenting plan actually say's that in my divorce papers.

Whether it's Yoga Girl or not, there *will* come a day when my children will interact with another woman in their father's company who is in an authority position to care for them.  Period.  It *will* happen.

Now... the *irony* is that when I explained this part of our parenting plan, I pointed out to El Capitan that one day *he* might have something to say about whatever man is in their life - and.... he actually laughed at the idea.  He *laughed* at the idea that another man (any man) would want me..... good times.... good times.

The point is, it's not up to *me* what woman El Capitan brings to that table.... *that* is totally and competely out of my control - and I *hate* that.  I despise it.  It makes my stomach hurt.  It burns a hole deep in my soul... knowing that one day another woman will play "mom' to my kids in any capacity.... but alas:  it will happen.

What I *can* control is how I deal with it - and how I interact with the future "her".   In that respect, it's just an important to foster *some kind* of relationship with her - as it is to have one with El Capitan.  *THAT*, no matter how painful and effed up and emotionally *wrong* it is..... it IS the right thing to do for the kids.

Period.

Yes.  If one day I have to sit at The Girl's dance recital while Yoga Girl claps and smiles as though she *belongs* there... as though *she* had something to do with the brilliant wonder that is *my* child...... I'll be livid p*ssed..... LIVID. P*SSED.  Because Yoga Girl will NEVER 'belong' in my world.... EVER.

Yoga Girl is an intruder in my life who *ruined* everything.... she is many things:  belonging isn't one of them.

However.... if it's some measure of time down the road, and she's the person El Capitan lives with.... then the reality is - in my children's eyes and hearts and minds.... she'll have a place, she *will* belong in their world.

This is where one does the 'easy' thing.... or one chooses to do the *right* thing.
It will hurt... it will suck.... but *I* will choose to do the right thing. 

I will choose to celebrate any woman who tweets or facebooks with excitement about spending time with my kids... not because I'm freakin' thrilled about it... but because no doubt my *children* will be thrilled about it.

They matter more than my ego... they matter:  the most.

To that end.... I have *already* offered to have a sit down with Yoga Girl - but I have thus far been turned down..... which is fine by me, but I made the genuine offer anyway. 

No one moves forward in mud.... whether you're just stuck in it - or you're slinging it....

I've said it a million times... but no kid ever died because *too* many parents loved them.  It might not be the family I wanted for them, it might not even be the family they deserve, but that's why you have to make the best of things and move on...

And if it's a sh*t show... then you just have to make sure you're puttin' the  'fun' in your dysfunctional family.

The last few days I've been doing some local press.... which is fun. I'm pretty sure that there won't be national press this time - and that's ok.  Lightening doesn't usually strike twice.... right? lololol

Like last time - there's no shortage of people reminding me that I'm fat (which is lucky because being overweight also affects my vision and every *I* look in a mirror I only see me as a nice, perky size 10...  I'm soooo glad so many kind, articulate people stepped up to tell me otherwise.  phew.) - BUT.... there are also some *really* nice emails.

I appreciate those more than you know.

I'm really excited for the book signing - looks like a few people might be there - which is good... I was a bit worried no one would come.... imagine how awful that would be? 

Anyhow..... I don't usually blog on Friday nights, but I wanted to post a lovely email sent in - just to show the 'haters' why I write The Blog and why I wrote The Book.  It's very humbling to think that I "help' even one person... but this isn't the only email that say's something similar to this.  It's really, really amazing - and I'm so grateful to think that someone feels this way about me.  Truly, so grateful.

Hi Elle,
I just wanted to take a moment and thank you for writing your blog with such a commitment to real emotion. I'm an English teacher by day, closet writer by night, and I tell you the truth when I say that you have a real talent and gift for the written word. I find myself thinking of you on a daily basis, and living your journey as I would live it with a close friend. If I met you on the street, I would feel compelled to hug you and take you for a glass of wine somewhere - which would be very weird to you since you have no idea who I am. lolol
I want you to know that your words are doing more than chronicling your own journey; they are a beacon and a guide to those who travel with you, and those who who will travel after you on the same path. It is so healthy to not only *have* the emotions you have, but to have them in the pattern you have them; I can almost see the 5 stages of grief as you write.
One last thing. If I could give you any words of hope at all, I would tell you that they day is coming when your pain will be less. It took me most of my 38 years to get there, but forgiveness is huge. I used to think that forgiving meant I absolved the wrong-doers of the wrong. It doesn't. Forgiveness is a gift you give to yourself, it has absolutely nothing to do with El Capitan. When you forgive his weakness, you do not say you *accept* what he did. You just choose not to be a prisoner to it anymore. You can't control what happens to you, but you can control how you react to it. I spent many years *ANGRY* (long story, I'll tell you over wine sometime...haha) and when I "forgave" I felt an enormous peace. The evil-doers don't even know I forgave them...I'm not on speaking terms with him anyway. I just let go of it all because it was tearing me up inside. And when you get there (and someday you WILL get there) you will feel whole and you will feel rested and you will feel peace. You will.
I'm rooting for you, all the way from southern Minnesota. I wish you every good thing.

Love to you,
XXXXXXX

*******************************************

I'm so blessed in all of this that not only does someone *feel* this way about me... but they were kind enough to write me and tell me. 

I have lots of feelings... most of the time, they are kind of sh*tty feelings - I think we can all see that.  So, when someone steps up and shares such an insight, then.... it helps chip away at the sh*tty. 

I'm not sure I'm ready for "forgiveness" just yet.... I won't rule it out, I won't say that it'll never happen. Of course, I want to live a full life and I know that I won't be able to do that if my heart is hard and my mind is set on anger and disdain.... but that's something it's going to take a *long* time to chip away at. 

At least... .it's looking that way right now.  We'll see.

In the mean time - life is good.  The Boy got a flu shot today - he was pretty brave... then I got my flu shot - and he held my hand and told me not to "be too scared" - then he pulled up the sleeve of my shirt pinched me *really* hard and lovingly said, "see, it'll feel like that".  lololol 

The kids and I hit the gym (which they *love* going to because they like playing with the other kids on the big play structure) - and today I topped out at 7 miles.  SEVEN MILES!!!!!!  Which brings my ENTIRE total for the week to a whopping 29 miles.... which isn't too shabby for my first week back at the gym in... well - a *very* long time. 

Then I took the kids for ice-cream (and I didn't get any!) - then for pizza (I had a salad) and then we came home, ate and finished the night with a board game. 

I'd say that's a pretty fantastic end to a great week.... oh, except then I went to see Breaking Dawn part II for the 13th time. lololol

Now *that* was a FANTASTIC end to a great Friday.

**********************************************************
ps.  for those following the last three weeks.....  El Capitan finally got a "burner phone" and he'll be seeing the kids tomorrow.... 24 days.  24 days.  I hope it goes well... but after such a long break, I'm a bit worried about how the kids will feel.... hopefully it'll be good and they'll feel good and not emotional..... fingers crossed.

Today was kind of cool.

First of all, The Boy and I got to spend the morning in St. Helens (home of the Twilight movie) and we *did* indeed find the beloved (and missing) Tinky-Winky.  He was Over. The. Moon.

Then we toured the other shops in the area, spending a little bit of money in each one.  St. Helens is a small town - and frankly... commerce is a wee bit scarce, so we did our part to bring some green to such a great little town.

Plus.... I got to chat with some store owners who were there for the Twilight filming and that was pretty cool for me.  Just to stand where Edward stood.... lololol

The nicest part of the morning was the drive - it's 45 minutes to get there.  The Boy and I talked about all kinds of things, he told me funny stories about poop and farting:  boys are just so much fun.  We had a great morning - and only once did he get quiet.  I asked him what was wrong and he just sighed and said he missed his Dad.
Then I sighed (but under my breath and not visibly).

We had another conversation today about how friends can sometimes come and go - and sometimes a friend is even *more* fun after we haven't seen them for a while.  Sometimes we have to give our friends space, even if we miss them.  He mentioned some old friends we haven't seen in a while (but are still friends with) and I said:  exactly.

He said nothing more, neither did I.

I try sooooo hard not to get drawn into conversations where I try to guess or explain what El Capitan is doing.  The books say that I'm not *supposed* to do that.  I'm not supposed to say, "Of course your Dad loves you."  or, "Of course your Dad wants to see you."  Because I'm *not* El Capitan (and *clearly* I haven't had a real understanding of what he's thinking) - so I should never speak for him.  So I try *really* hard too... but I will admit that several times in the last week I have found myself reassuring The Boy that El Capitan loves them.
Because... I'm sure he does.  There's no way he doesn't.... our kid is awesome.  lolol

So, instead of "answering" for, or trying to explain El Capitan, I do that thing where I transition the conversation to generally talk about "friends" and "people who are important in our lives" and how sometimes we have to be understanding and patient - but above all, we have to remember that our friends do what *they* want to do and that usually is not *because* of us.  I hope I'm not too vague with him...... At the end of the day - people WILL let him down in his life - and sometimes he can walk away from those people and sometimes he can't.  I don't think he will ever want to "walk away" from his Father, so it's better to help him discover emotional tools to deal with his thoughts and feelings.... crap.  I don't know - I *think* that's better?

In any case:  we had a *great* morning.

I came home to an email from El Capitan..... he say's there's "nothing wrong" with having used *my* username and password to get into *my* Netflix account after we were divorced.... that there's nothing in the "Netflix User Agreement" about it.... huh? WTF?  Seriously?  I think that Netflix (as well as the local government) is pretty much against people who are not paying for a service illegally using someone else's account....
sigh.

And then... a bunch of other stuff...... blah blah blah. I'm bored.  Bored of the lies. Bored of the game where we *say* one thing and then do another.... bored, bored, bored.

Which is excellent news because I've moved from shocked to hurt to angry to scorned to bitter.... and now I'm just freaking bored by it. 

He's still *refusing* to give me the cell number to his iPhone... it's a long story, but El Capitan got a second phone line *while* we were still married and AFTER I told him I could see him talking to Yoga Girl *all* day long while he PROMISED me that they weren't talking/weren't together/ that he hardly knew her.  He continued to pay for TWO PHONE LINES, instead of admit to me that he lied.

Now he cancelled the one phone line and *refuses* to acknowledge that he has the other one.  He say's he'll "buy a burner phone" when he afford one..... I said, this is a game.  A game I am *bored* of.  I have *MY* cell phone records to prove that I *rarely* call you - and hardly ever text you.  I have not harassed you *at all* and there is no reason why I should have a working, current cell phone number for you.  Period.

I told him this is a game and the only people being hurt at the kids who want to see him - and no one else. 

As it is, the kids haven't heard from him or seen him in THREE weeks. 

Then he wants to know when he can see the kids (after he buys the burner phone, of course) - because he wants to have a play-date with our kids and a friends of his kids.  WHAT?

I had to pause when I read that.  You see... LIFE has gone on for El Capitan. 
Smooth... dinners out, holiday parties.... snuggling Yoga Girl - walk of shame breakfasts at the local pancake house:  life has gone on - and HAPPILY.

If he were *really* sad and missing his kids... he would be chomping at the bit to spend time *with* them.  Not just want to be *around* them.  Instead, he wants to set up a time to see them so he can set up a play-date with *other people*.

I was honest with him..... the kids *need* to see him.  They *need* to spend time with him and they not only deserve, but *need*, his undivided attention.  What they *don't* need is play-date with anyone other than *him*.    I really feel like I shouldn't have to tell him that.....

The fact that my kids want a "play-date" with their Dad at all makes my stomach hurt....

The truth is that El Capitan *doesn't* want to have to talk to me... because I don't let things slide.  HE *asks* me how I'm doing... so I tell him, "I sleep in a bed with two kids, one of whom usually pee's on me at least once a week, we live in an office of someone's home, I have nowhere to get dressed, I have no privacy, I am the sole parent of two children all day and all night - and if they are sick or need their ass wiped:  I'm the only one there.  I have no retirement, no savings, no studio - which means my work is almost nil until the weather get's better and I can shoot outside, and the man who I thought was my soul mate betrayed me, decimated me, ruined me and then pissed on the pieces of my shattered heart while he moved in with a 22 year old.  That's how I'm doing.

It's not bitter.  It's not mean... it's honest.  At this point we should *all* know that I am .... honest.  El Capitan knows better than to ask me a question if he doesn't want an *honest* answer.  I've been this way for ten years... well, actually my whole life - and there are countless friends from decades past that will tell you that this part of me has never changed. Honest to a fault.

El Capitan doesn't want to hear that... he doesn't want to give me his number, because he doesn't want *me* to be apart of his life.... that's more than evident by his actions. He doesn't want *me* around because I am a reminder of what's he's done - and people don't usually like to be reminded of their wrong doings.
sigh.

So... in the end - the radio silence will be *my* fault because (as he always say's) I "say mean things" to him.... of course the fact that he *did* and continues to do "mean things" to me - is irrelevant to him.
I reminded him of that today.... that in spite of this all - I offered to work with him on his child support payments (lowering them for the time being and then he could repay the arrears later when he's working), and this was *after* he stole my Netflix and such.

Others can do what they please... but I *will* do the right thing.... or at least My Kid's Mother will do it.
(That b*tch really gets on my last nerve sometimes... I swear. loloolol)

I have LOTS of friends who think I should do other things - comments like 'press charges for stealing' or 'take him to the cleaners' or 'go back to court....' - come up all the time..... but my marriage *failed* because three people could not be in ONE marriage.  The same is true here:  TWO parents make for positive co-parenting - not a gaggle of adults, all with half a story, baggage of their own - and an opinion.

I think that El Capitan is listening to the stellar advice of a 22 year old who actually got him to tell me a few month ago that El Capitan shouldn't have to pay *MY* medical bills for having a full STD panel done.... um - YES - he should have - and he did.  *I* didn't cheat.... he did.  He broke the sacred bounds of our marriage and entered you like a kid in a candy shop.  Thankfully... though a vacuous snatch that stole my life, my love and everything I held scared... it was a disease free one.  Silver lining friends... silver lining!

But seriously.  When we listen to our friends ... this is *only* a recipe for disaster.  El Capitan knows me - and you know what - that pisses him off, because he knows I would never anything like this to him.  He knows I would never lie and cheat and ruin his life.  He knows that I would not continue to lie and cheat - he knows that I would never be *this* dishonest.... and so he buys into this friends bad advice and comes at me as thought I were some sh*tty ex-wife who cleaned him out... but I'm not.  I didn't do that. 

I don't trash his kids against him.  The Blog... well, I'm simply reporting the days news - if he wanted me to report better things... then he should act accordingly.
Sigh.......

After I sent him my email (asking again for a phone number so we can up some time with the kids) my *favorite* reporter ever called... Kai Porter!  He's the KPTV reporter who did my very first story - the one that ended up on National and International TV.

He was sooooo nice.  That first time that he and his photographer came out (also SUPER nice)  - they were very gentle with me.  I was a wreck and didn't want to really be on camera... but wanted to sell the house and TV advertising that was "free" seemed too good to pass up at the time.  Kai was respectful of my feelings and he was just.... really great.

So today the photographer came out to interview me and then Kai went to the Barnes and Noble to do a live feed for the story - and I wasn't far away at a party at Jenny B's house when they facebooked me to tell me they were there.  So I drove over and watched them do the live feed from the van... which was kind of cool.  Then Kai asked me for a picture to put up on twitter.  That was super nice, too.

So, today was a good day.  I had a GREAT morning with The Boy - I held my ground with El Capitan - and I *honestly* felt bored by his strong-toned email of veiled nothingness.... and then I ended the night with someone talking about *ME* (not-so-little-ole-me) having a BOOK SIGNING!!!!!

I'm not gonna' lie.... while I'm certain there will be some *serious* bumps in my road in the very near future.... I'm really, really proud of me today.  There I said it.  I'm proud of me.... because I wrote a book - and it's a pretty damn good book.... and even though I *thought* I was going to curl up and die 9 months ago - tonight I snuggled up to a great guy and took a picture of a moment in time that say's:  I was here, I was hurt, but I wasn't afraid to share, I wasn't afraid to be honest, I wasn't afraid to be me and take those soured Yoga-lemons and make some vodka that other people like reading about.

C'mon... who wouldn't be proud of that?

When I was a kid we moved around quite a bit. We went from the West Coast of hippie-lovin' to the deep South of racial lines drawn at all times - and then to Iowa..... land of corn.

We had always lived in big town - outside Seattle, in Huntsville - and so to move to teeny tin Mt. Vernon, Iowa population 3,000 or so... was a change, to put it mildly.

It was lovely sheltered little place where people *really* didn't lock their doors.  All the popular girls spent their time on their backs with the Senior guys.  There were lots of parties and booze.... I did none of that.  I was ... not very interested in spreading it for some 17 year old with sloppy hands and eager fingers.  I wasn't sure *what* was in my future, but I was certain I didn't want to leave pieces of me in back seats across that small town.

So, I was a bit of a loner at times. I had friends ... but I never really "fit in".  It's hard to go from living in big city where you are *well aware* what gang violence is because you've seen it while visiting your Godmother who lived in Oakland at the time... and then sit in a "History" class that covered 'current events' for the first 30 minutes each Monday and the class actually refused to believe the stories of teenagers being shot for their Air Jordans there are in the magazines at the time.  The concept of colors - as in Bloods and Crips - was something of fiction to them - and any knowledge of it meant that I was a fabricator and a liar... because in a town where no one locks their front door, where people leave their keys in their ignition... you can't fathom someone shooting someone else for their shoes.

I wanted to *kiss* John Singleton when Boys N The Hood came out.... no. Really.

So.... I wasn't the most popular girl in school.... *they* did not understand me... and while I understood that their "sheltered" lives weren't bad because they were nice people, they weren't ignorantly 'sheltered' - it was just that they hadn't been exposed to things and experiences that I had.  How could they?  We still owned our Commodore 64 at the time - CNN was just coming into it's own and social media was actually still just a notebook that my BFF Carrie and I would pass back and forth to each other through our friend Matty at the time.  We would spend all day writing entire novels to each other and then Matty would swap them out for us - because we went to different schools and Matty saw Carrie in the afternoon.

I kind of miss that, to be honest.......

Anyhow.  I was always a little too grunge for the 'in' crowd in Mt. Vernon.  I liked dirty skater boys and even had a Powell Peralta Tony Hawk deck in black with a hawk head on it... my Mom tossed it out when I moved to London... sigh.  that's worth so much money now. lolol

I was never a proper betty - I just liked to watch.  I'm scared of heights and speed... which is a bad combination if you're going to try to ride a skateboard.  (for the record, The Boy can scale the 12 foot bowl and fakie like a pro and The Girl.... oh - The Girl loves to skate, she has her own deck with matching pink pro helmet and can ride up a 3 foot bowl).

In 9th grade I wrote a story... I still have it somewhere... I don't remember the assignment, but I think we were supposed to write about where we thought we'd be in ten years or something like that.  So I wrote this whole story about how I was going to marry Tony Hawk, who would become a huge professional skater and we would tour the world and end up living in the UK.  I drew this kind of morbid front cover for it with blood on a shower... something about The Cure at the time...

The teacher loved it - she said I had a 'natural' writing style and I should think about taking more writing classes.  The class, however... wanted to know who the hell Tony Hawk and Metallica were.

Yes. True Story.  I had *no* idea that ten years later Tony Hawk would be *the biggest* skater and I would be living the UK.. just not married to him.  Shame that... lololol

After a few years of small town livin'... I had had enough.  Really.  Enough.  So my parents moved me to a bigger school in Cedar Rapids.  Where..... after 3 longs years of being the round peg shoved painfully into a square hole.... I finally fit it in for the last 2/3 of my senior year.

I signed up for Journalism and quickly found myself as the chief photographer for the school newspaper... which is pretty much where I learned everything about photography.  Honestly. Mr. Lindsey taught me everything I know but most importantly he taught me how to be a *good* photographer. 

I had taken this great photo of this kid in the cafeteria - and he was talking but getting ready to take a bite of a banana at the same time:  the peel folded down the body and draping over his hand ala' Curious George style.  He was leaning over with this animated look on his face and his mouth gaped open - it was a hilarious shot.  I was pretty proud of the 'moment' I had captured. 

Mr. Lindsey scolded me, he said it was a good moment, but it wasn't a good "photograph".  He said, "Your job is to take pretty pictures of people - whether they are pretty or not.  You make them that way and you will always get hired for the next job."

So I didn't run the blow-job banana photo and... and I never took another photo like it again.  To this day, I always try to take nice pictures of people that make them look prettier and skinnier and happier... that's my job. It's crazy to think I built an entire career out of that... but it's true.

I settled into the new school quickly, finding my skater boys and heavy metal boys and grunge friends.... I kind of hopped around a little bit of everywhere... I felt at home.  It was amazing.  That senior year I had a huge crush on my friend Rob, but I was already dating his friend... so it never went anywhere.  sigh.....

The week I turned 18, I celebrated every single day.  My two BFF's at the time were Robin and Jada who were from Mt. Vernon.  Every day at school I celebrated my birthday in a different class and then Friday Robin, Jada and I went "cruising" and I collected 18 kisses on the cheek.  I was such a prude... seriously.  Then that Saturday night... *that* night was the talk of school because I had made friends with the kid who owned our indoor skate park and he agreed for me to host a Birthday Mosh there.  Rob and I had made Ren & Stimpy posters and hung them all around school and well over a hundred people came.

Three bands played and I wore this way-too-short mini dress made of suede that was from the 1960s.  It was epic.  Like EPIC.  Grunge was only *just* starting to make it to Iowa back then... so my desire to wear my Doc Martens under my dresses was *finally* getting accepted.  Finally.

That week... I met my first serious boyfriend... we'll call him Del.  He was older, in his second year at the Community College and frankly... that's big stuff: dating a college boy.  He was a drummer in a band, he was tall with dark brooding eyes and floppy black hair and a collection of flannel shirts that made me swoon in places I wasn't yet aware one could swoon.

He was yummy.

We "dated"....as you do in Iowa.  He took me to watch planes land while laying on a pile of blankets in the bed of his giant silver truck.  We went to the movies and either of the two malls in town.  We went to his shows.... I was smitten kitten and when he bought me a .25 carrot diamond promise ring not long before graduation... I thought I had found my future husband.  (Again... 18, living in middle America - settling down at that age isn't really 'unheard of'.)

It ended the summer after senior year... my first *big* heartbreak.  The kind of breakup where you forget to eat and you stop showering and stop leaving your house for days and weeks on end because just leaving the house seems to hurt.  The kind of *first* heart break that every parent knows is coming and would do anything to stop...but can't.

I had ended things... but the break up got nasty.  Really nasty.  I kind of knew that forcing myself into a place where I didn't really fit in wasn't going to be a good life for me.... I didn't know where I wanted to go, or what I wanted to do, but I knew I had to be brave enough to call it off and find my own way. Still... hurt like a mother....

The Bubbie was at wits end, Del was calling all the time - leaving nasty messages.  One day he loved me and wanted me back... the next he was screaming at The Bubbie to "F*ck off".  To which ... my hand to G*d, The Bubbie replied, "If you wanna' f*ck me little boy you can come on over... but don't go making me promises you don't intend to keep."  After that I had to move back into my parents house because Del had broken into my place and gone through my things and he started showing up at my work and at friends houses... stalking well before it was a "thing".  My parents made me move home.

Poor sweet, Iowa Farm Boy.... he was *not* expecting that answer from The Bubbie. lololol

A few weeks after I moved home he made me a mix tape... of sorts.  There were a few songs on it - he had recorded it on his dual cassette boom-box.  Remember the kind where you could play a tape in one half and then record that tape onto a blank tape on the other half?  Anyhow.... there were a few songs, but mostly it was just him talking about how much he loved me and how much he wanted me back. It went on for 90 min - a full 45 minutes on both sides of the cassette.

My parents (still owning their Commodore) had an answering machine - the kind that ran on those itty-bitty little tapes.... and The Bubbie finding Del's poetic prose to be too much to resist - found the most embarrassing. blubbering, crying 45 seconds of the tape and recorded it onto the itty-bitty answering machine tape.

For over 6 months, whenever you called our house, if you got our answering machine you would only hear poor sweet Del's voice telling you how much he loved you and how sorry he was that he refused to buy his own coke at the diner and it was wrong to make you share your diet Coke because it was *was* stealing to just keep getting the free refills and he wouldn't be so cheap down the road if you would just take him back....

Hand to G*d.  True story.  However... after that he stopped showing up at the house and at my job.

During that time, Tante Louise called - she knew my heart was broken.  She told me to go to the movies.  She said, whenever you're sad, whenever you can't take it anymore - just get in the car and go to the movies.  It'll be a two hour break for your brain and your heart.  It's a safe and cheap way to tune out the pain - it's an easy way to have a reset button.  So I spent a lot of time at the dollar theater... I saw Cool As Ice with Vanilla Ice soooooo many times that summer.... man:  I wanted to be Kristin Minter so bad. lolololol

Over time... I began to heal and a few months later the opportunity to move to London presented itself and so with a whopping $100 in my pocket, I boarded a plan to London with a one way ticket:  no return.  (*note* I have Right of Abode in the UK and can live there as a citizen and did not require a visa of any kind).

Anyhow.... I look back now, so grateful for the movies.  So grateful for the time that it bought me... I didn't spend my time hunting around for the next 'Del' to make myself feel better.  I didn't look for the answer to my future inside the eyes of every guy I met... which, is frequently was immature girls do (just ask Yoga Girl).  I just kind of.... escaped.  And yeah -  escaping into a world of Vanilla Ice wasn't exactly the stuff dreams are made of ... but it worked.

Fast forward to the heart break that would redefine the words "emotional pain" for me.... there always seemed to be too much to do.  As more things have gotten ticked off the list... divorce:  done.  House:  sold.  Children:  have shelter/food/love, done (for now... anyway).  Blog: up and running (though doesn't pay a dime - this b*tch is just for the love of doing it! ololololol)  The Book:  done, dusted and published (and making me less than $2 a book - lolol).

The only thing left is...... me.  I'm the last project I have to take on and it's really hard this time.  I'm sans the perky tits of days gone by that did (on at least a few occasions) open a few doors... and I'm sans the pep and youthful hope that tomorrow holds amazing promise and a  Happily Ever After....

Instead, I'm the poster child for the virtual 'Walk of Shame' one does after their husband leaves them for a younger, slightly thinner, gummier version of themselves..... sigh.

So, what's a girl to do?   I spend *a lot* of time .... at the movies.

It really started with Twilight.  I have worked so hard to bring everything together... I *literally* sleep less than four hours a night - between the kids and home-school and teaching and client jobs and the blog and the book... there just isn't more time to sleep.  So I don't.  I don't mind..... I don't want to miss out on this life by sleeping it away.  I'll sleep in twenty years when the kids are grown and happy and whole... then I'll sleep.

Anyhow.  I was *really* looking forward to the Twilight marathon.  12 hours, just me.  Me and Edward and Bella and Jacob (and some pretty sketchy acting in the first two hours for sure.....) - but I can lose myself in the story as it unfolds.  Love it.  Love it.  Love it.

I'm not seriously waiting for my "Edward"... I know that vampires don't really exist and I get it that marrying someone after knowing them for three weeks wasn't my best plan to date and I don't think I'm going to just meet my "Edward" and life is going to be great.... BUT.,  aside from warm comfy hours of escape.... it has brought to my heart and mind the idea that I settled a bit. I never had someone who protected me.  May be he didn't love me enough to want to protect me... may be he just didn't know *how* to protect me.... whatever it was:  it won't happen again.  I won't settle for that a second time.

I have a few friends who think I should already be dating... I think if they were in my shoes, they would already be dating.  I have no desire.  I think I need more time to sort through the betrayal and the pain... but - more importantly, so much of this has taken away from my time with the children, I can't imagine spending time away from them getting to know someone else.  That seems... emotionally irresponsible.

So.... I go to the movies.  It's a place where clients can't call me, email me, text me, IM me on facebook.... it's a place where no yells from down the hall, "Moooommmmeeeee - I'm done!" and I have to wipe someone's poopy butt.  It's a place where I don't have to talk to anyone... about anything.  I don't have to talk about El Capitan and the sh*t show my life has turned into... *most* importantly:  I don't have to think. 

G*d bless movies and music for giving me the ability to just tune the f*ck out and lose myself in whatever they are pitching me.  115 minutes of Edward and Jacob and Esme and Emmett... and I've totally gotten into Nikki Reed now.... They can talk to me, talk for me, entertain me, and help me slip away from my own maddening, heartbreaking thoughts... and just *be*.

I can just sit in my seat... in my Team Edward sweatshirt, under my Breaking Dawn II Edward fuzzy blanket, drink my diet Coke (with light ice) and breathe..... for 115 minutes I can breathe.

I'm so grateful for that.  Grateful for kids who go to bed and for movies that start at 10:15pm so I have time to get there... grateful for a theater manager who doesn't always make me pay because I've been so. many. times.  Plus... I think she knows who I am and reads the blog (hi there!)... lololol.  Sometimes pity *does* pay... bwahahahahaha. :)

While learning how to accept the catastrophic demise of my own Happily Ever After... it's oddly comforting to me to watch someone elses come to life and play out before me.  I'm grateful to Carter Burwell whose music is... so peaceful and moving.  The title of the chapter in The Book where I find out about Yoga Girl is titled "So Hold On" - which is from the Robert Pattinson song Never Think, which appears on the first Twilight soundtrack - that song has brought me an immense amount of peace on some truly hard nights.

If I'm being honest... the first time I heard it I thought it was crap.. I could hardly understand what he was singing... then I looked up the lyrics and the song seemed to fit my life to a T.  Odd that... very odd.

So...today I am grateful for the chance to still breathe - even if it's only 115 minutes at a time.  It's a stepping stone - and eventually it'll become a bridge to a better place for me -  and if I can get to a better place, then the kids will be there with me by default.  I don't think the answers to my life are in Twilight... which is probably why I still have never read the books... I just like to go the movie.  I just need my 115 minutes to be.  That time for my brain to stop thinking and just.... relax.  It gives me time to just rest and be and not think, not answer to people or clients... of even my own tortured self... but just be.  More time of just being means a calmer Elle - who can get up the next day, shake off the fears and the pain and question marks that still loom over my now d-funked marriage - and start fresh each day trying to rebuild this life on my terms.  Again... I'm a crazy twihard for sure.. I'm Team Edward all the way.... *but* I'm fully aware that my life is built on my terms, not some Hollywood fantasy.  Trust me, I got that message loud and freaking clear. lololol

It's just those 115 minutes are a sacred time of peace and calm and pleasantness and to that I say:  Thank Edward and Bella and Jacob and Stefanie Meyer.  In the craziest of ways... you have become a lifeline to myself.... it sounds more than a little cray-cray... but it's true.

Here is the Robert Pattinson lyrics - you should buy the song... it's brilliant. :)

I should never think
What's in your heart
What's in our home
So I won't

You'll learn to hate me
But still call me baby
Oh love
So call me by my name

And save your soul
Save your soul
Before your to far gone
Before nothing can be done

I'll try to decide when
She'll lie in the end
I ain't got no fight in me
In this whole damn world
So hold off
She should hold off
It's the one thing that I've known

Once I put my coat on
I coming out in this all wrong
She standing outside holding me
Saying oh please
I'm in love
I'm in love

Girl save your soul
Go on save your soul
Before it's to far gone
And before nothing can be done

Cause without me
You got it all
So hold on
Without me you got it all
So hold on
Without me you got it all
Without me you got it all
So hold on
Without me you got it all
Without me you got it all
So hold on

You can find it on Amazon HERE. :)

Wow.  First and foremost... WOW.

I'm so totally stunned by how kind everyone has been.  I have to admit, even with my sense of humor, the first few days of alllllllll the comments about how any man would leave "Shamu the whale" was starting to get pretty old..... do these men not know they would drive me yet MORE donuts?!?! (kidding... they didn't. lol)

So, a day of posts that were *mostly* super awesome was.... just pure amazing.

I'm struck and humbled by your honesty and, really, you only have to look over the 700 heart-felt posts to see a collective of stories that is truly the backbone of being a Mother in today's world.  All these women faced so many different, awful, horrible circumstances and regardless of their size, color or age they are tied together by a bond of shared pain and the ultimate desire to move the eff on.  (Can I say that here.....?  Too soon? lol)

I just want to say thank you..... I really wanted to respond to every single post, because I actually did read every last one (even the crappy "you're a fatty" ones... lol) - but there just isn't enough time in the day right now. :(

El Capitan and I aren't sure what to make of this media storm - I feel a bit like Dorothy and the wicked witch (also know by some posters as Yoga Witch) spun this house up good and now it's being tossed around this Media Tornado and we're just not sure where it's going to land.... guess we'll have to wait and see.

Tonight, the Media Tornado took me to the satellite doorstep of Dr. Drew.  DR. FREAKIN DREW!!!! Can you believe that?!?!?!  When I was a kid we used to spend summers at my Grandma's and I was a TOTAL Love Line listener!  Dr. Drew... oh many night I lay awake listening to you and Adam Corolla.... tonight, I did NOT do enough listening and did faaaaar too much giggling..... haha.

I do worry that people will think that I find the affair or the divorce funny".  Rest assured, I find El Capitan's affair about as humorous as mouth herpes (which thankfully I don't have) and the divorce felt like some ripped out my insides through my ears..... but, I do kind of find this whole Media Tornado funny.  Why the hell does anyone care what I think?  (and crowds of overweight men sitting in their tighty-whitey's nod in unison while they wipe off their orange  Doritos  fingers onto their Mother's couch.)  Even still.... it feels oddly good to share.....

Believe me when I tell you that I put a sign in my yard to SELL MY HOUSE.  The magnets were something my Mom insisted on for her friends (so she could mail them out) and then my friends wanted some... and then a few friends insisted that at least I put up the magnets just for fun.. I wondered if people wouldn't feel betrayed somehow?  Mind you... I'm about as smart as a box of rocks if I hatched a plan to pay off my house with magnets that are $5.00 each.  lol.... Still, some people accuse me of that and that just is NOT the case. 

It's really important to me, after so many people have trusted me with their inner most hours of emotional pain that people don't think I would trade that for $5.00.  Anyone who actually *knows* me, knows that I'm really crap at getting "paid".  In my own business I do TONS of work for free or for heavy discounts because of different clients circumstances.... but my clients are RAD.  All of them, they do amazing things for me and what they bring to my life is often faaaar more valuable than money. :)  (and then a few of them are pains in the ass,... but they know who they are! hahahahaha)

Those same friends are insisting I write a blog....

So, share I shall!!!!  At least until no one is visiting this blog anymore...  All the judgment that happens over my marriage and my life and my choices and my parenting!?!?!  I feel like it would be good to get the whole story out there.... so tomorrow I will start at the beginning..... see you there!  You can read about how El Capitan barfed all over himself and yet it was still the most romantic night of my life and I kissed him anyway... barf breath and all...... (or not... because you might have gone back to reading about Tom and Katie - lol)

Thanks for reading. :)