First of all.... let me be *super* clear that I don't *actually* feel the need to "answer" to anyone.... however, I *do* absolutely feel the need to be honest.

To that end..... when someone calls me out as dis-honest, I will explain because honesty is important to me.  I would be *livid* pissed if I had a friend - in person or online or someone I followed in a blog or in their movie career - who lead me to believe a certain set of personal truths, only to find out I was 'duped' and it was all a lie or a huge exaggeration.

LIV.ID.

Why.....?  Because I already lived that.....
yes, I love you.
No, nothing's wrong.
Yes, everything is fine.... so on and so forth.
But... it *wasn't* fine.

I think, to be totally honest, that *that* might be one of the reasons my marriage failed.  El Capitan would be the first to tell you I'm honest to a fault.  I don't do drugs, I don't drink - I would NEVER EVER Drink and drive.  I try *really* hard never to break 'life's rules' - mostly because I don't think you should.

Generally speaking, in society, there are a set of people who have been there, done that, paid the price, got the t-shirt and decided to save me the trouble of doing it to myself.... so they make rules and I - generally follow them.  Do I follow them blindly?  Fuck no.  But, usually, if there's rule, there's a reason.

I live.... as much as I can anyway... in a black and white world.  I try not to make too many excuses for myself.... my weight is what it is because I don't make time for myself, I don't go to the gym and I eat too many donuts.  I don't have some elaborate story about my thyroid or some back injury or whatever.... there's no mystery to my size.

In fact, for the most part, I hate 'mystery'.  I don't eat food that I can't readily identify.  I don't drink things I didn't order and pay for.... definitely don't want any mystery there.  Even when before I came out to my family, I spent months researching the historical stories of lesbians and their social history, and what it all meant:  I didn't want a ton of mystery.... well - may be the 'good kind'. lolol :)

I think that's part of why I've struggled with El Capitan in the last few months.... there's just way too fucking much mystery..... which usually equates to misery for me and  the kids.
And anger..... lots of anger for me.

I felt so *proud* of putting myself and my 'forgiveness' out there (that's 'air quoted' not in sarcasm, but meant to define all that I offered La Novia back there - one word to define all of it) - and .... I get left out in the rain:  figuratively and literally... over and over.
It really pisses me off.

A few weeks ago, after another long spell of not really seeing the kids regularly and we had already had plans to be in El Capitan's area visiting friends (this is a long standing Friday afternoon event that goes back almost four years now.... so this is nothing "new") and as such I planned to drop the kids off at his place when we were done with our visit.

Then he called.... it got all complicated and he got mad insinuating that he had made "all these plans" borrowing people's cars and whatever to get up to our place (45 minutes away in no traffic) - in 30 minutes on a Friday night.  That's a two hour drive on average.... not 30 minutes.  

Needless to say - the stories didn't add up and I was like... 'does it matter?  I'm here - saving you the drive - as I already TOLD You- as I have been MANY FRIDAYS this year - so I'll drop them off.....'.

Then it was.... "Oh, I need to go the grocery story -can you drop them off to me there?"
Umm.... no?

Then it was.... "Oh, I'm already in the Church parking lot by [our friend's] house - can you meet me here?"
Sure... in the dark and in the rain.....?  
Sure... why not.
Sigh.

We got there and everyone said hello.... but El Capitan's crossed arms and general demeanor indicated that something more was on the plate so Hail Mary took the kids for a walk and I started off by saying, in a plain and simple tone:  "when you make me meet you in a parking lot, it feels to me like you're keeping me away from dropping the kids off at your place - and I don't think I've done anything that means I'm not welcome to drop the kids off there."

I mean.... fuck.  I practially wrote La Novia a novel on how to be sucessful with the kids... welcomed her with open arms... and yet NOW I'm reduced to dropping my kids off in dark Church parking lots?

WHY? I DID NOTHING WRONG.
Sigh..... 

So then he got super mad and was yelling stuff at me.... but it's 'personal' stuff, stuff that if he's not lying, is deep, dark issue's he's handling and it's not fair to him to blog them... but the gist of it all was that he needed me to meet him in that parking lot because:

a) it's "awkward" for him to 'wait around with his girlfriend' for his 'ex-wife' to drop off the kids.
AND.... and this park is fucking epic..... and I quote it for you:  "You [Elle] don't have a right to put me in awkward situations."

Yes... yes... you read that right.  *I* don't have "the right" to put El Capitan in "awkward situations."
So I guess it's a good thing that I DIDN'T DO THAT... huh? lol

Like... seriously - what *does* he think... what did SHE think was going to happen????  That he would have this totally separate life and the past and the present would never ever have to live in the same place together????
Impossible... I refuse to believe anyone is that stupid.

and b) that he [El Capitan] wanted me to meet him in that parking lot so that he has "more control" over his life and (essentially) makes more of his own decisions.

Sigh.

I don't really see or talk to him all that much... and other than being at HIS beck and call for WHEN he see's his kids.... by that I mean that HE takes them when HE wants to.  When he isn't working and has the weekend/night free - HE see's them.  I make no demands on his time.

I don't control WHEN he see's them... I don't control for HOW LONG.  I don't even control the drop off and pick up - but seeing as how he's without a car... and I live 45 minutes away... I just *assumed* I would at least be dropping them off..... 
But that's not me 'being nice' - that's me 'being controlling'.

And... before one of you writes me - it actually STATES in our divorce that the children are dropped off or picked up at one of the parent's homes - for the VERY REASON that I never wanted them shuffled between cars in  parking lot in the rain like bags on a bus..... just moving along.

So I'm not really in 'control' of anything..... which I find ironic that two years ago he got into *her* bed because he didn't feel like he was 'in control' and I 'mothered him too much' and blah blah blah.... and now I'm hearing similar talk...... someone better start checking those text messages. lol

Anyway...... so I TRIED to really hear him out, tried to be compassionate to his situation, to his feelings.... because that's what best for the kids.  Working things out - hearing him out.... and I was *almost* ready to believe that this really wasn't about La Novia NOT wanting me to drop my kids off at her place.... and how this was really about him and what he needs.....

Until:  The My Little Pony backpack.

Our friends live in the area - but about 10 miles to the South.  Hail Mary and I were heading about 15 miles north to have dinner with J.... and on our way - and closer to where La Novia and El Capitan actually do live - I notice The Girl's My Little Pony backpack in the back seat - all packed with the toys she was taking to her Dad's house.

He said they were just running to the grocery store and heading back, so I decided to just stop over and drop the bag on his porch.  It's a very sheltered area with a full hallway and open doorway  - so the backpack would be safe and dry...... 

But as I pull up to run the bag to the door step.... I notice La Novia's car parked right outside.... and I can see lights on in the apartment.....
Fuckin A.

Seriously?  REALLY?

Hail Mary said nothing... she knew what it meant and she could see I was hurt.

I didn't get out of the car, instead, I just backed up and drove on to dinner with J.

The next day, La Novia was home - and made a huge production of telling THe Boy that *this* was her *only* Saturday off and that she was spending it with THEM.... (first time in the least 7 months they've really seen her at all according to either kid) - and even The Boy, when telling me this - was teeling it to me confused about it... because Hail Mary and I spend alllll our days with them, so he wasn't clear on why La Novia felt like she was "choosing" - and I couldn't really figure out how to explain it back.... and thankfully he just moved on from it like a typical 9 year old.....

But, La Novia was home and El Capitan and I got into the first proper 'fight' we've had in a very very very long time... and I knew when she was in the room because his language would change and his demeanor would change and that drove me nuts.... he started talking about going to the DOJ and lowering child support and changing parenting orders..... meanwhile dodging the question about why it is that *I* can't drop my children off at their Dad's place and how RUDE that is.....

Instead he say's nasty stuff about how "this" [the fighting] is the real reason we're not married anymore... which - isn't true, but that's a two year old dead issue - so I was angry and he was angry and then he threw me into utter oblivion when he said this little gem:

"Explain to me how it is I fucked up your life.....?"  said El Capitan to me.

Yes.... he said it.
And I just stood in my storage unit - the one filled with the packed up toys and the memories and the wedding china and my whole entire ten years of wedding bliss.... packed floor to ceiling in a 25x20 storage unit - standing there because I either have to move, donate or sell it's ENTIRE CONTENTS by the end of February because I can't afford the fee's anymore....and El Capitan wants to know "how" he "fucked up" my life????
Sigh.

He was talking 'paperwork' and court papers and this and that..... he's gets all 'legal talky' when La Novia is around.... so I stopped him and said, "Yup, you're right, we should be doing this by the book, and in light of that, your time with the kids is up.  You have had the number of nights/hours you were supposed to have them... so I'll pick them up at 5pm."

So I picked up them a day early.  PLEASE.... know that he had had them "more" than our parenting plan stated, but to my mind, if he has the time and wants to see them, I'm ok with that because it's in the best interest of what the kids want, or at least I assume it is.
But that day... tired of 'mystery' and veiled threats and changing tones every time your girlfriend walks in the room... the one who doesn't spend time with them, doesn't actively 'co-parent' them.... I was just done and felt I needed to prove a point.  Not the 'point' that I have some kind of 'power' but the point that if we want to start digging out paperwork and changing things and "live by it" to benefit someone else... then I can do the same thing.

He was stunned.
So was the Bubbie... actually. lol

And at 5 pm, without incident or unkind word or look...I drove up, picked up my kids - who were happy and blissfully unaware that they were leaving "early" - and back to Bubbie's we went.  

I can't ever decide when I'm being.... too nice?  too mean?  I don't know.... going on to get along makes it easier for everyone and less stress on the kids... but at the same time - I've been doing that FOR TWO YEARS - and I've offered and olive branch of total acceptance and support to someone who sucked her way into my family like a shopvac: industrial strength.

So.  Yes.  I pulled rank.  For the first time ever.  I pulled rank.
I'm tired of mystery...... I'm tired of being treated like *I* am/was/will be a problem - because how you treat ME is how you are also treating my children..... and at some point I'm done.  If you want to suddenly play by the book, so to speak, then allow me to do that same.

I didn't want it this way.... I wanted that great situation where we all work to get along and let bygones by bygones and smile and wave at the kids from the same side of the soccer field..... I hate the mystery of not knowing what's really going on - or if whatever conversation we're having about our "feelings" is really just a not-so-cleverly-masked way of keeping me from dropping my kids off at your place.....

So that..... that's what you missed. lol
But... did you *really* miss it?  lololololol
 

Sorry.

First of all, I am sorry.  I'm sorry that I didn't follow through on my promise. Sorry that I didn't keep blogging even though hundreds of you still come here every day.  I said I would keep blogging no matter what.... and to be honest, I *miss* it.  It makes me a better person - a better Mom because I tend to hold myself to a higher standard when I'm blogging.... what I mean by that is, well.... it's hard to explain.  It's just that, sometimes I can get lost in my own head in my daily life and when I'm blogging, it helps me hold onto perspective a bit more and not get lost in the pain and upset that still sometimes sweeps in and takes me off my feet leaving me struggling to find ground once again.

So.... I'm sorry.
Sorry if I upset you... disappointed the collective 'you'....
And sorry for me.

All apologies out of the way, there *is* a reason.  It's wasn't just a random thing, or a timing thing... though I am *certainly* very busy.  It wasn't a Hail Mary thing... or an El Capitan thing.... 

To be honest:  it was a *me and you* thing.
Yup.

Right around last Christmas I got an email.... from an IP address not local to me, though I still can't decide it if it was sent by someone I know-know... or a reader.  Either way, it doesn't matter much.  Because I don't know *who* sent it - or their actual intent, I won't publish the email verbatim.... I will share with you the jist of things:

"Dear Elle,
I wanted to ask you why you write about being poor because it doesn't seem like you are very poor to me.  You go to Disneyland and take trips and are always going places with your children, so therefore you can't be poor.  I think it's all a rouse to make us feel sorry for you when you are out living the high life."

It went on.... and it was actually pretty insulting at points - the usual "You used your kids to make money" and on and on it went..... Sigh.

I've been called a lot of things.... told I was "too fat to fuck" and that I was "so ugly no man would ever want me"... been called a "dirty lesbian" and told I'm "going to hell".... which is all fine and well, because with the exception of only believing I won't go to hell - truth be told, I'm not sure *anyone* on this planet should be 100% sure they're NOT going..... everything else most of people say or write about me usually isn't true.

However  of all things I am or am not..... I have *always* come to *THIS* place, as I do all other places in my life, and been honest.  I have been brutally, BRU.TALL.Y. honest.

I have been no holds barred....
I have slit open the wrists of my own pain and bled words onto this keyboard... with total abandon.
I never set out to 'craft' any particular message or theme....
I never took the "ads" contracts- selling out the honest and bare emotion so many of you share...
I didn't turn all "Single Dad Laughing" on you.....

I sat down, night after night, and shared whatever was going on - the good, the bad and the truly ugly.
You asked for nothing more... and I asked for nothing in return.
NO.THING.  Nada. Zip. Zilch.

So..... this, amidst allllllll the other nasty emails I have gotten..... *this* one hurt me the most because after all this time - without taking *ANY* more TV shows or interviews.... to say that I have been coming here - writing all these words and thoughts and feelings and *sharing* the innermost part of my own life and very being - to reduce it to being about 'selling out my children' for money - and insinuate that I "make tons of money" and "live the high life" pretending I'm something I'm not......
Sigh.

It's a line too fucking far.
Just being honest.
So for a while.... I didn't want to blog, because I wasn't sure what to say.

So.  Let's get down to brass tax.... shall we?

Several of my friends thought someone would "save" my house for me....
Or that someone would come along and buy me and the kids a newer/nicer one:  that obviously didn't happen.
People thought that a bunch of rich people would see me and donate money to me:  *that* didn't happen.
I didn't/don't get paid to blog.
I NEVER made a single dime off the sign - the kids and I got three days in New York, that is all.
I NEVER sold a single interview or 'appearance'. 
EVERYTHING I DID, I DID FOR FREE.

I spent the *little* bit of savings I had in roughly 9 months of keeping my COBRA insurance coverage... just under $10,000..... just.... gone.  

The children and I survive well below what is considered the 'poverty line'.... and yes, I still manage to pull off a decent Christmas and outings and such.... and here's how:

I never pay more than $5 for a t-shirt for myself, so I get them on sale at Old Navy.
(OK, WHEN I was doing interviews, I DID buy some nicer clothes to be on TV... fyi).
I *only* buy my jeans at Walmart - they are $15.88 and I buy only one pair at a time.
My "treat" to myself is a new hoodie if we go somewhere fun - Disneyland, Great Wolf Lodge, etc.
Then I wear those hoodie's instead of coats:  because I don't own one.
I *do* have a pair of UGGS, a gift from my brother and his wife.
I *had* a BOB Revolution stroller, bought for me by a friend in trade for a years worth of photos.... and then instead of selling that BOB for $300, I gave it to my brother when he had a baby.... because I knew a luxury stroller like that wasn't in their budget either and it REALLY is worth it. lolol... 

I don't buy fancy face products, or shampoo.
I don't own a closet full of fancy work out clothes and $200 running shoes and hats, whatnot....
I have a pair of yoga pants with a whole in the crotch to sleep in.
Oh... and my bra's?  I buy the two for twenty stretchy kind (the ones you see on TV) from WalMart.

The kids..... well, THEY get as much "cool" and relevant clothing that I can afford to get them.  I watch sales like a hawk - anything superhero related - I'll buy it one size too big (at least) and put it away if I have to.  If Crazy 8's or Gymboree have a sale - I buy fancy shirts in sizes one or two or three sizes too big and put them away for The Boy - usually you can get $20 for $4.99 or less!!!! as long as you don't care that they aren't the "current style" by the time it fits them.....

I didn't *used* to buy them winter coats, but after The Boy spent the first few months of Kindergarten without a coat and the teacher sent home a note saying he needed one and I had to spend three days digging through Goodwill's to find a good one to fit him for $6.99.... I was SMART enough to watch for the end of season Costco sale that year and buy a winter cost for each kid:  they are BOTH still wearing them even this year.  I can probably get one more year out of The Girl's coat and this is the last year for The Boy's.. .it's too short in the arms. (Not bad for three years of wear out of two $19.99 coats).

I buy them the cute "fancy" superhero underwear - and mostly because I stumbled on a deal for $1.14 a pair of pants for The Boy and bought every single one they had! lol... 

Their pajama's....?  AT LEAST three sizes too big so they can wear them for years.... and they have.
Their shoes?  The VANS outlet - never paid more than $20 for a pair and always during the buy one get one half off sale... so that's TWO pairs for $30 or less. 

Cleaning supplies..... Dollar Store.
Deodorant... Dollar Store.
Hair brushes/clips/bands... Dollar Store.
Holiday Decor.... Dollar Store. (except Halloween)
Office Supplies... Dollar Store.
MY School supplies.... Dollar Store.
Shampoo.... Dollar Store.
Tooth brushes/paste.... Dollar Store.
Soap... Dollar Store.
MY Sox.... Dollar Store.
plates/cups for kids.... Dollar Store.
Toilet Paper.... Dollar Store.
My Sunglasses.... Dollar Store.

You see every month, I go into the Dollar Store with a $30 budget and buy everything we need for the month.  The only thing I *can't* buy there is my female hygiene products and saline solution for my contacts.

No one came along and "gave" me much of anything.... and I never expected them too.  

We "have" whatever we have.... because as a Mom I go *without* as much as I can - and I cut AS MANY corners as I can.  I've gotten REALLY GOOD at finding A.MAZ.ING deals at Ross and Goodwill - I know where and when to look.... and so YES, thankfully, if someone didn't know HOW much work goes into it all.... it might LOOK like we "live high on the hog".... which is fine.  I don't really want any of The Boy's friend's at school knowing that his Mom is one minor/major accident and one "pay check" away from being totally homeless..... that's probably a stigma he doesn't need. 

Though, I'd be foolish to assume I'm the only parent in his class in a similar economic situation.

The reality is.... *I* didn't make what I call.... 'good life choices'.
I didn't finish my four year.... I stopped after two so that El Capitan could go to college.
I didn't invest the money I made in ME or a potential "me future"... I put it into the house and the family because, like many women I put allll my financial "eggs" in my husbands basket... and we all know where that basket is now... lololol.

I did those things.  
ME.

So, I try my fucking *hardest* to get my kids to Disneyland as OFTEN as I can because it is very apparent to me that I *will* be working well into my 70s just to get by.... I don't have a retirement account or a 401K or a house to call my own..... and a few thousands dollars I can scrape together by selling things off and saving money to give my kids a trip to The House of The Mouse so that THEY don't have to miss out.... well, it's hardly the worst thing in the world.

But... life is different than it once was... .just the other night, I was putting The Boy to bed and he said, "Mom... I miss the blue house and our old life.... because we had more blankets back then that were bigger."
So.... he knows the difference, Disney trips aside... The Boy knows times are different for us all.

We're not poor..... we're not.
We have roof and food and friends and family and people who love us.... and you have NO IDEA how much The Bubbie and The Papa have helped us.... but our life *is* different now and to suggest that I 'use the kids' to make "all this money".... just pisses me off.

Really. 

I don't shop at Nordstroms.  I don't stop at my Macy's.  I don't own "designer" clothes or 'fancy' things.... I'm really too busy trying to figure out how to pay for books next semester (holy SHIT what a racket!!!! lolol) and keep myself in college and The Girl in preschool.... and *try*... TRY to figure out how to pay for skateboarding lessons for The Boy and dance lessons for The Girl because they ask allllll the time.... so now I have to figure out how to cut more corners to make it happens......

Tuna sandwiches everyday.... 
I cut out soda... which is HUGE for me.  No more Diet Coke.
Dinners that can be lunches and then breakfast if need be.
Cereal in the industrial sized bags from WinCo.....

Oh... DO NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED.... on how *fucking* depressing it is to read all these facebook posts about how "good Mom's" only feed their kids "in season" and "organic" fruits and veggie's, or how now you can't eat Mac & Cheese because it's made with 'wood pulp' and how everything HAS to be organic... on and on and on it goes.... and it always makes me feel like shit because there's no way on EARTH I can afford that.

The Girl LOVES apples... so I cut her one in the morning, cover it in pectin (which is what you use in canning so that your fruits don't go bad) - and that way the apples don't turn brown during the day and she'll keep eating them... otherwise, you know kids and brown apples... lololol.

THAT ... THAT is how I "afford" things.... 

And, before anyone sends me an email telling me that I wrote this to 'make people feel sorry' for me or whatever..... TRUST ME, I didn't.

I almost wanted to never write another post again - than to be this honest about my life - because who the fuck wants to admit this level of utter adult failure.....?
No one.

But.... while I failed at keeping my promise to blog daily.... I haven't failed at my promise to be honest.
THIS.... is what being a single Mom looks like when you don't make 'good life choices' in your younger years.
THIS is what divorce looks like for A LOT of men and women out there... not just me.
THIS is what getting by on *very* little looks like..... for thousands of people, not just me.

So now you know.

And one more thing..... I don't begrudge the "Scott Dysicks" of the world who HAVE money - they made different life choices.... so good for them.  Seriously.  Good for them..... I only hope they appreciate it.
Because, even if the total sum of everything I'm wearing is worth less than $30 (except my slip on Chucks with the whole in the sole... seriously) - well, that's ok because everything else in my life is worth so much more.
The Kids.
Hail Mary.
The second chance to go to college.
My friends who have stood by me relentlessly over the years.
My family....The Bubbie and The Papa.

When you add it all up.... may be "you" are right..... I *AM* living pretty well, at least by my own standards.

But, it seems like that has *always* been a theme for me every single year.... a 'holiday bucket list' of things I meant to do - fun crafts I thought we would make, cute places I thought we would go see together... and yet:  almost every single year, I would find myself packing up un-used crafts and thinking about places we *should* have gone, but we never found the time....

THIS YEAR.... this year was different dammit. 

This year we went just about everywhere that we could have.... Oaks Park Holiday train ride - which we'd never done before and it was awesome.... we made it to the Queen Anne House, PIR, Peacock Lane, Story Book Lane.... we had play dates with friends and went out for dinners and froyo.... oh yes:  *I* took the kids to froyo..... True Story.

Speedy Bob and Sparkly Belle moved around the house every single night and Hail Mary - who has yet *another* hidden talent of calligraphy - wrote "notes" from the elves on the bathroom mirror each morning,  We found time to watch the various holiday specials on TV and just tonight we finally sat down to watch the Lady Gaga and Muppets special (it's on Netflix) - which.... I have to say wasn't their best work... but - I sat there curled up with The Girl, and Hail Mary and The Boy.... and I thought, "Wow... I actually did it this year - all the things we wanted to do, all the places we wanted to go - they were all done.... bucket list of happy memories is full.....".

That's the first time I've ever been able to say that.  
First time ever.  I'm kind of proud of that.

This month The Boy also got his first 'report card'.... and I'm even more proud to say that he's doing well in school - performing at or above grade level, he's a good student who is a 'good citizen' and is conscientious.  He works and plays well with others (my own report card NEVER said that.... and frankly:  I think we all know it still wouldn't) - and he's a fantastic student.  

I'm so proud of that... so proud of him.  He's faced so much, been through soooo many changes - and while it has certainly changed him in many ways (and in ways that will continue to surface for years to come I'm sure) - none of it has "changed" him... he's still the same great kid he was in three' preschool.  He's still kind to others, showing empathy beyond his years, still "using his time wisely" and staying on task.  If there are any victories in this entire situation at all... it *has* to be that one:  The Boy.  

I know it could change... but for now, I'm pretty proud of the fact that we've been through a lot and he still believes in the magic of Christmas and Elves and in the value of putting other people first and has the strength of character to be who he is regardless of what other people think - but he's doing it all in a manner that makes kids want to be his friend - not as some kind of rebel with a chip on his shoulder.
Phew.......

Honestly..... there are days when it all just seems as hard as it ever was.... and, like most people, I can get sidetracked by what *hasn't* worked and lose all sight of the things that have.... which is a shame because I think that coming to the end of this year I have quite a bit to be proud of, not the least of which is the small fact that my children are still smiling..... 

Oh.... that and a few other things I will fill you in on this week..... :)

In the mean time.... I hope you had a wonderful holiday time.... truly.

For some reason Alice in Wonderland always seems to come back around a bit as a theme here for me... 

Entering into this time of year, I had started, just at the very back of my mind really - to wonder if *this* year was going to be different from last year at this time.... I mean, I had set the stage last Spring for things to heal and become whole and happy for everyone involved.....

and all I got was left out in the rain.

So, knowing that I've thrown the towel in on trying to make it all work..... which is really bullshit and unfair to my kids, to be honest.  I mean... you want to fuck a married man:  go right ahead.  Just *know* that a married man with KIDS should be a bit of a package deal and that fucking said married man *will* find you in the role of 'step-Mom' eventually.....  or at least it should on some small level.....

Which, you know it grates on me just a wee bit to not fully understand that truth and what goes on - only in the manner that it affects the children.  Just after I had my round-table with El Capitan and La Novia last Spring, El Capitan was saying that La Novia was mentioning that we should all get our schedules down so we could work out car-pools and babysitting.... etc.  It seemed as though if it were El Capitan's "weekend" that La Novia was willing to "watch" them (essentially) while he was at work for the afternoon/etc..... but that has *never* happened.  El Capitan only has the kids when he's got the day/weekend off.... which is a bit unfair to the kids and to me, to be frank.  If I wanted to something on this weekend or that night - it's tough titty said the kitty for me.... because I don't get to choose.  

Then again... when have I ever gotten to choose... right? lol

So on it goes, we don't see her... she doesn't see them (which must be serious effort on their part to keep these two lives separate as the children SLEEP in their home... but whatever) - and we all move on - a bit like one of those three legged dogs:  cute, but not entirely functional.

Sure enough..... Thanksgiving came and I had arranged to take the kids to El Capitan's place for a few hours during the day... and, for the  *record* as we went into Frozen (the movie), I said to Hail Mary, "You wait, he'll text during the movie to say when are we coming - then I'll text him when we get out - and he won't text back until it's time for us to be at my parents and he'll say that he 'worked all night and fell asleep'".

Sure enough, even though he *knew* we were taking the kids to Frozen on Thanksgiving - he texted during the movie, I texted after..... and he "fell asleep" and never saw the kids.
Gobble! Gobble!

So we're two for two for Thanksgiving now..... just sayin'.

He hasn't seen the kids in weeks... I don't remember how many, but I think we're rounding the corner to three..... may be four? You know - he's working..... he works retail... etc etc etc.  The last time we talked over text was a week and a half before Friday - and we had arranged for him to have the kids for a long weekend the weekend *before* Christmas....

and... drum roll:  he doesn't "need" to see the kids on Christmas.
I offered.  Actually, it IN OUR DIVORCE papers that El Capitan can spend Christmas morning with the children opening presents at their home - which is my home because the live with me full time.  But, I put in LEGAL WRITING, that he has the opportunity to come on over and spend Christmas morning with his children watching them open their presents.

At the time, though some might find this hard to believe, I wrote that for their benefit and his.  One of the very first things we 'talked about' when he first left, was that I felt 'punished' enough by the situation and I sure as shit wasn't going to get punished further by having my children taken away from me on holidays and their birthday.  Additionally - the "standard" every other holiday visitation that works for most would NEVER work for parents if one of them works retail, etc.  We have *never* known if/when El Capitan would have a holiday off - so trying to put into writing a schedule we both knew wasn't likely to work seemed like we would be setting ourselves up for failure.

So, our papers read that I get the kids the night *before* and the *day of* all major holidays. I wasn't about to tuck my crying, miserable self into bed in an empty house on Christmas Eve... no way in hell.  *I* didn't do this -and I wasn't about to pay the ultimate price for it.

Losing my husband was one thing.... losing those precious moments with my children was a non-negotiable item.  El Capitan either understood that... or just didn't give a shit even then.  Only time will tell.  

However, I added into the papers that he could attend their Birthday parties, celebrate *any* holiday with them on any other day of the week in addition to his regular visitation AND that he was *welcome* to spend Christmas morning with us.

It seemed a bit too cruel to me, to take away Christmas from El Capitan.  See the children run around the house looking for the Elf and finding the empty cookie plate and getting all excited.... just seeing their faces and the presents and the joy.... no matter he had done to me, I couldn't really see myself taking that away from him.  

So I didn't.
But... clearly:  he doesn't mind missing it.

So.  Now we have our second Christmas were he doesn't plan/want to see the children.... and we haven't texted/emailed/talked in over a week and then Friday happened.

The day started off mundane and busy - running around, school drop off, etc.... and I had a meeting for The Girl to be interviewed for a government preschool. Now.... I'll be honest:  this was a tough pill to swallow.

When The Boy was two and a half *I* was interviewing preschools and getting on wait lists and chatting to the other Moms about which school was better... religious?  Waldorf?  co-op?  I had so many choices, so many *options*..... however, I was able to pay for last year of preschool for The Girl, but I have not been able to squeeze out the money to pay for preschool thus far this year.  
Big. Ole. Heart. Breaking. Sigh.

Also.  We moved to a new city and I had my hands full with a thousand other things and since I don't know anyone here who *has* a child that age and is in preschool - it was hard to try to find one.  Someone told me about this preschool and that it's subsidized, which makes it fairly affordable. 

I sit at the tiny desk in a chair *barely* big enough for The Girl and I start to fill out the paperwork.... slowly, I realize that the dates I'm writing is my twelfth 'wedding anniversary' with El Capitan.  The time drags on... more paperwork... more tests.... The Girl failed her hearing test in both ears.... oh. good. fucking. times.
I see a doctor appointment in immediate future..... sigh.

Worrying in a different way in the child on the carpet playing next to The Girl who keeps dropping f'bombs.... "pass me the fucking block...."  and... "why won't this fucking block stand up.....".  The child's Mom is actually sitting *rightFREAKINthere*.... and does nothing.  The teacher is saying things like, "remember we only use our 'nice words'".... but the kids clearly couldn't give a shit what anyone says and The Girl - though no stranger to hearing her mother use the f'word - *knows* that this is wrong and keeps looking around the room with eyes that say.... "Really?  No one cares that this kid is saying fuck?".

And that.... *that* is when I start to lose it on the inside.  The direction *OUR* lives have taken.... the immense loss of everything starts to weigh on me and push me down.... more paper, more date writing, more signatures, more f'bombs..... I can feel the tears burning at the back of my eyes:  stinging and threatening to fall.  

But I keep it together.... until we get to the car and then I fold up and cry.
It was an ugly cry... and what makes it worse is that it was in front of The Girl.
Feck.

It's one thing for ME to change, for MY life to change... it's entirely another to have to change my child's life in a way that I *know* is not better for her..... it's a huge failure as a Mom.
HUGE.  and at that moment, it was more failure than I could bare.... bear?  fuck... on day  I gotta look that up.

I text Hail Mary... she texts back as supportive as she can be.  But I don't really expect her to do anything - she is my girlfriend and she loves us - but we are NOT her financial "responsibility" or burden.... it's unfair to put that kind of financial pressure on another person.  It's enough that she loves us - that she loves them and cares for their emotions... THAT is a huge fucking win.... the money stuff - that's not her "job", if you will. 

For me, in that moment, it wasn't about the "marriage" itself, the loss of the 'man' or the relationship that I was upset about it... it was teh loss of everything else.  

*I* put down $12,000 of MY money... not *our* money... MY MONEY - to buy our house.
and I lost it all.

*I* paid off $5,000 of school bills and another $6,000 of back taxes.... alllll El Capitan's bills.  Not MY bills, not *our* bills.... but bills he accrued before we even married.... 
and I lost all that too.

To go through your twenties and build a life and a home and a financial security - to INVEST emotionally and financially in someone and have it all taken away..... is fucking brutal.  So I sat with my giant ass wedged into the worlds tiniest chair and listened to the f'bombs and thought about how if I *hadn't* paid off those things for him.... I *might* have the money to send my daughter to a proper preschool.....

That's what hurts the most.... starting over.  Struggling is something you *expect* to do in your twenties... you relish your new-found independence form your parents and you sit proudly upon the torn and cat piss covered cushions of your Goodwill couch and you *treasure* ALL OF IT.... because you're proud.

Sitting on those same "cushions" at 38 is a shameful moment of failure..... believe me.

So, I was already on shaky ground when I heard from El Capitan... and later I posted this wee gem on my facebook page:

"Kids haven't seen him in over three weeks. He hasn't texted in over a week. It's retail... he's busy. Fine. BUT TODAY... today of allll the days in the month he texts and say's may be he'll call the kids today or over the weekend. then this happens:
Me: "Yeah.... this weekend be better, today is a rough day for me."
Him: "Oh sure lol...sorry - best wishes on your bday."
MOTHERFUCKER. ten years of marriage and you can't remember that our anniversary - that day of the year where you never once bought me an anniversary present and *I* would use the $100 my parents gave us for The Great Wolf Lodge.... you can't remember that our freakin' WEDDING ANNIVERSARY is in DECEMBER... today, in fact - while my BIRTHDAY is the SAME month as our daughters birthday - in March.
Sigh."

And then my day when to shit for a while..... I spent EVERY PENNY I HAD ... paying off our bills and *HIS* bills and buying a house.... and DOING ALL THE RIGHT FUCKING THINGS A GOOD WIFE IS SUPPOSED TO DO...... and I did it all for someone who can't remember when my birthday is?  

It's just a bit of a cruel joke.... to be totally honest.  A mean cruel joke.

After my posts lots of people had opinions.... several people think I should just "get over it" and be "glad" that I have a "new partner" who will "make up" for these things.....
that pissed me off.

PEOPLE.... do we not learn over and over and over in our lives that OTHER PEOPLE ARE NOT THERE TO MAKE US HAPPY?  Sure... being with Hail Mary *makes* me happy... but - it NOT her job to the emotional sponge that wipes up El Capitan's mess.  She's there to hold my hand and wipe my tears.... but - she's not supposed to be a band-aid for the pain that someone else caused/is causing.  
That's not fair to her.... not at all.

It's my fault.... I married him.  I blindly believed in him.  I had children with him.... and I wrote those checks- I paid those debts... because I believed it was the best thing for my family.... I sat down with La Novia because I thought i was the best thing for my family..... and I often find myself wondering where the hell I keep going wrong with it all.... 

And... for the most part, there's no 'easy' way out.... no one is going to show up on my porch with a $30,000 check to make up for the financial loses of having a cheating spouse.... no one.
And... to that end:  perhaps they shouldn't.

So the day was rough, I spent it with a swollen face from crying a broken tooth... because another one broke.  Yeah.... that's the kind of week I was having.  

I know that it's hard for some people to understand  that I can mourn and be bitter and hurt and angry about the loss of sooooo many other things that were apart of my life and my marriage and *not* actually be that way about the person I was with.  But... that's how it is.  The loss of my *life* is something I'm not entirely sure I'll ever be over.  

How do you get over that kind of loss......?  
Am I happy... you bet.  Am I loving the time with my kids.... of course I am.  Am I enjoying this new relationship with Hail Mary..... for fucking sure.  but nothing "new" ever takes the place or fills the void of losing something else.... at least I haven't figure out how to meld those two together just yet.

We ended the night with a visit to a bowling alley with the kids and Mia and Bella and their wives - and we had a fantastic time.  The Boy actually picked up a SPLIT!!!! Where you knock everything down but two pins on either side of the lane... but he knocked those down!!!! It was crazy awesome.

Then this guy showed up with a guitar and an amp and played music - which had The Girl dancing up a storm on the lane next to ours..... and - to be honest I had *no idea* - but it turned out that Hail Mary owned her own custom drilled bowling ball......?  Oh... and has a pair of glitter blue Adidas bowling shoes..... 

Yes... you read that right:  Adidas Bowling Shoes.
Hmm... on second thought..... having a girlfriend who channels her in "Jax"  (Sons of Anarchy) and wears her own Adidas Bowling Shoes is certainly hot enough to make up for a super shitty day.... well, that and The Boy jumping up and down with pride and The Girl 'slam dancing' around the alley.....

We may not have money honey..... but may be what we have is worth more.

Sorry.  I know I keep saying that I'll do better.... I WILL... I really really will.  I promise.
In the meantime..... this really pissed me off today.

Actually no, not just today. 
Sigh.

Yesterday, on a friends facebook feed, an entry caught my eye where someone's kid had asked the Mom what she wanted to do when she 'grew up'.  I, myself thought... good question:  because frankly I'm still not entirely sure. lol

This, however, instead sparked a whole feed of women espousing the many virtues of being a 'stay at home' Mom, how it's a "valued" job in and of itself - and one even said, "A stay at home Mom is the center of her home's universe."

Are you fucking with me?

Let me just go ahead - at the risk of pissing off A LOT of people.... and just say this:  STAY AT HOME MOMS HAVE IT FUCKING EASY.

oh.... did your day involve running around after your adorable toddler that spit up or shit on every surface of your home, including you?  waaaahhhh....
Did you have to control a wiggly child in a grocery cart while shopping from a list you forgot at home and now you can't remember what the hell you need to make dinner - *ensuring* that you'll be running back out to the store later most likely in the middle of what *should be* nap time......?  boo-hoo......
And... will you, during that *favorite* time of every Mom's day known as The ACID HOUR - be scrapping crusted cheerios off your coffee table while burning said dinner while you bed and plead for your child to be distracted by Elmo & Co long enough for you to finish folding the laundry before your adorable cherub face angel decides to roll around in it .... aFUCKINGgain.....?
BFD.

Center of the universe my ass..... I AM THE GODDAMN UNIVERSE.
If *I* don't clean.... it ain't gonna clean itself.
If *I* don't cook.... it's ain't gonna cook itself.
If *I* don't wash it..... it ain't gonna wash itself.

ME.  
I do all of that.... only - I ALSO try to run a small business and generally just try to keep myself from thinking about jumping off the nearest bridge.... no:  really.
Just being honest.......

Only - funny that.... I'm NOT A 'STAY AT HOME MOM'.

No one is there working full time to provide me health insurance.
No one is there bringing home a paycheck to pay my mortgage, buy my food and put gas in my car.
I am sans a gym membership because who the FUCK has time to go anyway......?  
I am bereft of Mom's Morning Out and playgroups and playdates and leisurely walks in the park.....

Because I'm ALL OF THOSE THINGS:  making my own paycheck, paying my own bills AND doing the cooking, cleaning and the laundry..... and *trying* so desperately to carve out some kind of time in the day to dance in the kitchen, make cookies, make silly faces at one another.... and still get the kids homework done.

and still.... I'm aware that *I* have it easier than other Mom's out there..... 
sigh.

So I was already feeling a little annoyed at the planet and the assumption that Stay At Home Mother's are the center of a home's "universe" blah blah blah... when this stupid blog showed up on my feed from several other friend's walls......

17 Things Boys Need From Their Moms

I read it.... and then I got really annoyed.
No offense to the author who is... unknown.  no name. no nothing.  just a faceless blog, but some of the "advice" really got under my skin.

I was on-board with the initial set of "things" your son needs.... to be showered with affection, to dance (in the yard, in the car, etc), to be told secrets....

Wait... you said what?

Secrets......?  "big or small it doesn't matter"......?  TELL YOUR CHILD SECRETS and all you're going to teach them is how to lie and keep secrets.... this seems like a wildly poor plan, if you ask me.  "Shh - don't tell your sister you got an extra cookie for doing good on your math test" is one thing.... but I don't really consider that a secret.....   But really?.... secrets.... that way when he breaks the neighbors window he'll be a master at shrugging his shoulders and nonchalantly lying.  Sounds like a perfect plan.  

THIS ONE... almost killed me:  "FOR YOU TO MARRY THE KIND OF MAN YOU WANT HIM TO BE"
What.
The.
FUCK.

In the first place, even as a "blogger" who has shite grammar and doesn't always string together her thoughts clearly - the paragraph makes no sense in that one is usually already MARRIED TO/IMPREGNATED BY said "man" who is now 'husband' and 'father'.... seems a bit late NOW to be making sure he's someone you want your son to "model" himself after.  Already I'm confused by the idea that *AFTER* you have your son you can suddenly now be making sure that his "father" is the kind of man you want him to grow up to be.

In the first place... no girl meets her "knight in shining armor" and say's to herself:  "Well.... I think he's going to become a total douche bag who cheats on me and stops seeing his kid...."  but GUESS WHAT???? 
Sometimes the end of the fairy tale ends just. like. that.
And there's isn't shit you're going to do about it.

And.... then what?
Throw in the towel and drown us all in the nearest bath tub?

oh... and yes, let's accept the fact that I will not ever "be" with a "man" again.... what do I now?  How will my son learn to "model" his behavior.....?  what kind of "husband" will he be for his future wife?  

Well... for one, he's not learned to take the fucking garbage out.
He's also learned to have more fun.... The Boy can be quite serious, which is in stark contrast to Hail Mary who finds the joy and the adventure in literally *anything* - she pulls him out of his shell and gets him to have faith in his abilities to try new things.... 
He's learned.... for the record, what it's like to have his mother's hand be held by someone other than him.
He's learned what it's like to see his Mom be loved..... 

Isn't that kind of important, too?

Moving on.... I'm ok with most of the others and already do most of them.... until we get down to "SEE HIS MOM RESPECT HIS FATHER".....
grrr.....

I respected my 'husband'... he didn't respect me.
Opps.... his bad.

For the mothertrucking *record*:  I have shown both La Novia and El Capitan and SHIT TON of respect neither of them is worthy of..... *however* -  it goes on to say "If you're not married to his father, show him the way to co-parent peacefully, with respect."  

Let's be clear - your kids need to see you respect their parent.... but they also need to see you respect yourself - and not be someone's doormat.  RESPECT means having boundaries - for yourself and for them and making sure everyone behaves within those boundaries.  When they don't.... you correct that.

The part that got me is.... "Show him the way a wife should treat her husband."
Sigh.

This is *about* as narrow minded as the whole "Stay At Home Moms Are the Center Of their Homes Universe" thing..... how about just modeling what being a good *partner* means.....?

I *DID* that whole "good wife" routine... and it got me a set of moving boxes, a pile of divorce papers and two kids who were now solely my legal responsibility.... NOT what I thought was behind the door labeled "true love/husband/partner/spouse"..... So now what the hell am I supposed to do?????

I can't help but feel like we've become a society that finds it's own personal validation on the boards of Pintrest or buried in the pithy words of some unknown, ?educated by whom? blogger - who dishes out parenting advice and we just lap it up.....  

We high five ourselves and pump our fist in the air, tie on an apron, make dinner and kiss our husband when they walk through the door and stand around - pleased with ourselves that we're 'getting it right' and life is.... perfect - and will TURN OUT PERFECT according to some errant stranger on the internet.

What about people who lose a spouse to cancer? or an accident?  What about parents who are on military duty?????  Are the children of alllll those people destined to not know how to "be husbands" and how to treat their wives......?
Sigh.

Good new for me.... while there isn't a "man" living this house, there is a *human* who participates in this family as a loving partner who takes out the trash, plays a sport (and sets a zillion examples in that alone), is reliable, doesn't lie or cheat, dances in the kitchen, loves the "Mom" of the house, and love the children back..... 

bitter much......?
kinda.

Wow.... three days in a row - can you guys *handle* the sheer excitement? lololol.......

I can't believe that Halloween was a month ago.... I feel like November never really happened.... a big ole' fat taste of what working full time for me is going to look like.... Hail Mary had to take the kids to THREE 'kid' functions and I ..... I missed out because I was at school. sigh.

No bueno. 

The good news was that the kids were going with Hail Mary... and that was fantastic.  I knew that they would have fun and she would make them behave as I would. Most importantly, I knew that she would *be* there and be interactive with them - not standing there, head down and phone in her hands..... 

I get quite a bit of email... even now, which surprises me.  I get email from women who were cheated on, husbands who were cheated on - women who think they might also be gay.... and I get asked a lot of questions and sometimes I get asked for advice.  Since coming out I get asked - either in person, or via email or social media - what's the "biggest difference" between being with men or women.

Well... of course, there is the *obvious* ... and, to be honest, if you're 'gay' and not 'bi-sexual', then you're probably going to have a distinct preference in the bedroom.... I certainly do. lol

Having said that.... being with a woman is different in many ways that are - wait for it..... - probably even *more* important than the sexual differences.  There is this tendency in the 'straight world' to associate being gay or lesbian with being sexual deviant - all whips and chains and going at it like rabbits all the time.....   I'll be honest - the 'all the time' thing might be somewhat close to home.... lololol.... but it's not 'deviant' by any means and.... it's the best time I've ever known physically.

EVEN.... having said that..... after ten years of a marriage that broke beyond repair and 37 years of living outside my own skin ..... circling myself over and over and denying myself.... you would *think* that it would all come down to the sex and it would be a slam dunk winner over anything else.... but it's not. 
Not at all.

When I was married to El Capitan and I would sit around and chat with my other married, straight friends, you would often hear someone joke "What did he do?????" if someone said their husband brought them flowers for no reason..... or, the general idea was always present that if your husband *did* bring you some nice little present or flowers or did something nice... that they were putting sex 'dollars' in the bank and eventually - you'd have to put out.  Now.... before ya'll go getting all bitter and uppity and shit.... let's just talk in Hollywood stereotypes... there's an idea that men do nice things for women so they can get laid.
Right or wrong.... it's a stereotype very much alive in many marriages.

For me *personally*, I would always feel pressure to put out if El Capitan did something nice for me... thankfully -that wasn't all that often, so I didn't feel pressured all that often. lol  Even still, I always resented that a bit - because I would do nice things for El Capitan ALL THE FUCKING TIME.... and I could barely expect that the trash might be taken out in "return".... I certainly wasn't looking for the kind of physical exertion that screwing requires... just the odd handy man job... ok - not even THAT much- most of the time I'd have just settled for the garbage going out.... and usually it just filled up to Homer-Simpson-Style proportions.
sigh.

But, buy me $6 carnations at Safeway and suddenly I'm supposed to bend myself into a pretzel and make your 13 year old fantasies come true......?
Yeah...that sounds about right.

Guys can jack-off (and usually do at least once a day... gag) - but they'd rather have sex..... toys and lubes and gym socks just aren't the same as having actual intercourse.  They NEED us to you know.... 'get the job done right'..... as they say.

So.... shhhhh.... come close.  I'm going to let you in on a little lesbian secret..... 
Being with a woman means that things are.... All. About. ME.
Period.

When Hail Mary brings me flowers.... she brings them home because she wanted to.
Last Thursday I got purple roses because she saw them at Safeway and, knowing that they are my favorite, picked them up.... just because.

Then Saturday when she was coming to my 'graduation' - she had the kids bring me another small bouquet at the end of my ceremony.....

Then Sunday I was tired and just emotionally spent and we had bickered back and forth out of frustration and both of us being totally spent and exhausted.... and she came home with the largest bouquet yet to say, "I love you and tomorrow is a new day."

And that was it..... it was all about me.  When Hail Mary does nice things for me - she's doing them... FOR ME.  There's nothing attached to it... she's not doing something with the even the smallest hint that I'll put out in return..... 

She does things for me because she wants me to feel loved and appreciated and beautiful... may be the rest of the straight world has relationship like that... but I sure as hell never did..... lol

She works 40 hours at her job, then comes home and cooks dinner and gets everyone ready for bed, then makes our bed and get up at 10:30pm to cook me dinner because I'm hungry and too tired to get up and do it myself.... and she fills my car with gas, scrapes the frost off my windshield, texts me in the morning to make sure we get up on time so The Boy isn't late for school...... she does The Boy's homework and nightly reading log with him.... colors pictures, takes the kids to The McDonalds playland and out for ice cream and to the grocery store..... 

She does all of that.... and doesn't complain.  Instead, she writes me notes on the bathroom mirror thanking me for "allowing" her to be apart of this family..... she doesn't expect me to put out or expect anything from me... she buys me flowers and leaves me love notes because she loves me and is proud of me..... Tired Me.  Bitchy Me.  Pissy Me.   Too tired to get up in the middle of the night with a kid who wants their butt wiped..... ME.  

She's not apologizing for anything or hoping to 'gain' anything... she's really just doing it for me.... just like I would do it for her... just like hundreds and millions of wives are out there doing for husbands who don't *see* the value of it.....don't *appreciate* it.

When I was first dating Hail Mary I remember sending her a text that said..... "It sounds crazy - and it's *seems* crazy to me... but is it possible that I'm falling in love with someone who will love me back the way I love them?"

But it's true..... she loves me the way I've seen dozens of women love their husbands who never really notice or understand the depths of that love or the effort that kind of love takes.... THAT'S the biggest difference... and being loved that like- being appreciated like that.... it's better than any sex ... ever.

and.... they *still* believe in the Elf on The Shelf.

The Boy has actually been talking about it for a few weeks - when will he show up?  where will he hide?  will he know we moved......?  I was trying to remember the first year we did the Elf on The Shelf, and I can't actually remember... I think it's been three years now?  may be four.... in any case, I'm not sure The Boy remembers a Christmas *before* Speedy Bob came.

In years past, they sold only one 'elf' - a 'white' one, a 'bown/black' one and the same one you could add a skirt to call it a "girl".... but it looked sooo much like the boy we already had, that I passed on getting a 'girl' elf for The Girl to hunt for.  THIS YEAr... however, they have re-done the faces of ALL the elves... they actually look totally different and now look like the movie version of themselves (which came out last year).  So, this year's "girl" actually looks like a different elf - so I got her.  Thankfully, a client had paid me with a Target card and I had been hoarding it for a special occasion - and a Girl Elf On The Shelf seemed like the perfect time to use it!  

With my Girl Elf tucked away in the closet, I waited and waited for Crazy 8's to have their PJ's go on sale.... neither of my kids is short or small.... so trying to keep The Boy in "fun" "kidstyle" PJ's is actually hard because most places stop making 'themed' pj's at around size 10 or 12 - AND.... because they are a 'fire hazard' - pj's always run really really small.... which is never very good for my kids.  Crazy 8's, however, have boy pj's that run up to a size 14!!!!!  Usually their pj's run around $20 a pair.... but I waited and waited and one night their pjs' were on sale for $10.00 AND I had a 20% off coupon with FREE SHIPPING!!!!!!

So the above Santa and Elf pj's were ordered..... it's so so so so great not to have to give up those little tiny "luxuries".... matching holiday pjs.... so freakin' cute.

The kids were so excited to get their new pjs' and it was almost like Christmas Eve itself with their excited anticipation of Speedy Bob coming back.... they had *the hardest time* going to bed and staying there... ugh.  But finally they were in bed and while they slept.... Speedy Bob showed up in the living room and decided to hang from the ceiling fan.... and hanging next to him with a pretty girl elf in a sparkly tutu.

The first thing the kids did when they woke up was run down the stairs and start looking for Speedy Bob.... and squeals of delight came from both of them when they realized ole' Speedy wasn't alone..... The Boy is convinced that this is Speedy Bob's wife... and The Girl named her:  Sparkly Belle Ballerina.
How adorable is that?

Then..... I had to have THE TALK with The Boy.

I had to explain to him that when he's at school he shouldn't talk about his elf because he will soon find out that not everyone he goes to school with will have an elf that comes to their house - AND - .... not everyone he is friends will believe in the magic of Santa or the Elf on The Shelf.

Dead. Silence. from The Boy.

I tried to deliver that news with kid-gloves... but at the same time, my heart broke just a little bit.  Having to tell your child, who still has that sparkle in his eye and that magic in his heart..... that world is a place full of hard hearts and assholes who will love *nothing more* than pissing their vinegar all over your joyful holiday..... and put out the fire of the magic..... sigh.
People suck. lol.

The Boy was *sure* I was wrong.... he couldn't understand how anyone wouldn't believe in Santa, but he understood that if other kids don't have an Elf that comes to their house, that they might have their feelings hurt to find out that he does.... so we agreed to keep his Elf a secret.

I told him...... "Some people believe in Santa and the Elf on The Shelf... and some people don't - but it doesn't matter what they believe - it only matters that *YOU* believe and that you don't let their doubts take away the magic that you believe you in...... "

"Mooommmmm......" The Boy rolled his eyes at me, exacerbated, "Why would I ever let ANYONE take away my magic.....?"

Well... yeah - duh. lol

As I sat on the toilet (pants up for those who need the visual) - trying not to cry (I do that a lot it seems) - I hope that The Boy's resolve is as strong as his words of wisdom are and as I send him out into the big bad world of second grade..... I hope he can keep his magic alive.

Holy crap.  I can't begin to tell you *just* how tired I am.....

At the start of November I started a Certified Nurses Assistant course.  The pay isn't great.... in fact - it blows.  Really. lol.  It's like $10 an hour.... BUT - it's a job job and it's in demand and I could literally work just about anywhere.... and as a single Mom, I need some kind of security.

However.... this meant my days looked like this:

7:30 - get up, get kids on toilets, teeth brushed, clothed and fed.
Start up the computer and drop a job into the Action Runner. (fancy software for photo finishing).
9:20 - come home from drop off and turn on the TV for The Girl.
Edit, proof and load up jobs..... including one preschool job which started out with over 18,000 shot images and was edited down to just over 7,000 hand finished images of 148 children.....plus several family jobs and a few senior sessions - and keep editing until 1:00.
1:00 - 3:15:  Study the book for class and do the homework.  Each day we did one chapter and tested each night.
3:30- pick up The Boy from school.
3:40 - 5:30:  finish homework and study for that nights test.

5:30 - dash out of the house leaving Hail Mary with the kids to make dinner and do homework and bathe and get them into bed..... oh yes:  more on that later. lol

6:00 - 10:00 - CNA class.  EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.

That was Mon - Friday.... then Saturday I had class from 9 - 2 pm...... then I had session to shoot on Sunday.... and so it went for two weeks.... then two weeks more while I had clinicals' at those same times instead of lectures and testing.
Sigh.

Tired doesn't even begin to cover it.  I wasn't getting to bed before 1 am most nights and I STILL have work that needs to be finished.  I'm *proud* to say that I didn't get less than an A on every single test and I passed my clinicals with flying colors and one of the head nurses at the location we worked at asked me if I was going to apply for a job there... because they'd love to have me.

It was so hard because it was the *first* time that I have been away from the kids like that.  I would do weddings, but that was only Saturday and Sundays and they would be with The Bubbie.  THIS time.... it was all me and Hail Mary and no one else (well, Bubbie on the weekends)- but.... okay... mostly it was just Hail Mary doing all the 'heavy lifting' here.

And it was HARD.
The Boy gave her a run for her a money.

The first week was especially rough..... lots of talking back and pushing boundaries and 'no - I don't have to/I don't want to' kind of stuff..... most kids are like that all the time to their parents - but my kid are *rarely* like that.... so this month they both kicked the naughty behavior into high gear.... and It. Was. ROUGH.

It was soooo hard to come home from working like 15 hours straight to hear *horror* stories of my beloved and wonderful son slamming doors and talking back and being just downright rude...... brutal.  Which caused problems for Hail Mary and I because I had to temper my desire to hold onto the idea that my angelic child would "never do" such a thing... with the fact that Hail Mary was probably also tired and may be (just a little bit) sensitive to things.....

You see, there are two issue's at hand here:

ONE: I don't want to be that parent who blindly refuses to accept that their child is making the wrong choices and acting up.... I don't want to brush that under the carpet and ignore it like a ugly wound because, like any wound:  that shit will fester and get worse.
And ... I can *assure* you that I couldn't handle it getting much worse.

TWO:  I don't want to be that MOM that brings someone into our lives and then doesn't look for signs that her children are unhappy and want out.... at the end of the day - there are FOUR of us in this relationship.  The children's opinion of Hail Mary matters as much - if not MORE - than my own.... they *have* to be happy and accepting of her in the roll of 'co-parent' or 'step-mom' - because they ARE accepting, not because they feel forced into things.

I grew up with friends who *hated* their step-parents.... they resented their Mom or Dad for marrying that person and they were miserable and couldn't wait to move out.... I DO NOT WANT that to happen.
Period.

Prior to that.... while I was working the weekends in October, Hail Mary had to take The Boy to a Halloween party... .did I already Blog this?  Sorry if I did....  Anyhow, Hail Mary had to take The Boy to a party and it's a new school and new parents.... so this was a new adventure for ALL of us. 

For one, I didn't know anyone there - so Hail Mary wasn't walking to a group of 'Mommy friends' who already know me and love me..... instead - she was walking into a new social situation full of straight parents as the gay 'co-parent' of her girlfriends kid..... 
Yikes... right?

And, of course, there's The Boy to consider.... what if his little friends figured out that Hail Mary was his 'step-Mom' and that his Mom was gay.... would he get made fun of?
Bigger, harrier, scarier yikes..... but a reality for sure.

Prior to this, we hadn't "identified" anyone.  The kids just called Hail Mary by her name and no other 'value' was placed on anything... I figured that I would let them identify her role in their lives however they saw fit and felt comfortable.  

I *did* of course call the Mom hosting the party and asked if it was 'ok' that my 'partner' - female name inserted here - brought our son..... she paused then quickly recovered and said, "Of course!"
Phew. 

The day of the party came and The Boy had a brand new Goodwill costume and he and Hail Mary arrived at the party right on time.  Hail Mary said the other boys came running and stole The Boy pretty fast and that he seemed to be settling into socially really well.
BooFUCKINGyah.... that makes this Mommy soooooo proud.

Making small talk among the parents, Hail Mary said she could feel a few of them looking at her a bit longer than normal.... the kind of curious look that say's...... 'is that a girl?  is that a boy?  is that person gay.....?'
Hail Mary is *very* used to that... so it didn't bother her at all.  Sure enough, it wasn't long before a few of the Moms walked over and made some awkward small talk before one of them just flat out asked if Hail Mary was 'The Boy's Mom's girlfriend.  
Yes..... she is.

That was then met with a flurry of.... "that's so great!" And then.... as conversations can sometimes turn when someone finds out that you are one of two girls in one relationship - came the questions.... "So - does {The Boy]'s Mom do the cooking......?"

Otherwise read:  "So she's the girl and you're the boy, right?"
lol.

Hail Mary was happy to joke around and answer whatever questions anyone had.... but in the midst of The Boy playing with his friends and Hail Mary finding total acceptance amongst the parents (how awesome is that, right?) -  The Boy is talking to Hail Mary and another boy walks up and asks him who Hail Mary is.

"Oh.... that's [Hail Mary] - she's kind of like my step-Mom".  Replied The Boy.
"Cool....." said the other boy.

And nothing else happened...... holy freaking shit.

The proverbial Gay Cat was out of the bag and no one cared..... not even The Boy's friends - so THAT is all well and good and awesome.... but really - what Hail Mary and I were excited about was the 'step-Mom' part.

SO. Cool.  That was on his terms.... in HIS time.... and were thrilled he said it.
We didn't bring it up to him later and we don't now introduce Hail Mary that way... but I felt like it was an honest glimpse into how The Boy view's Hail Mary on his terms.

So.... when only a few weeks later The Boy's behavior took such a nose dive... it was troubling.  We had issue's going on with El Capitan and me being away most of the time at school or studying... it was ROUGH.  
Really rough.

So I took The Boy on his own and we had a serious talk about his feelings and his behavior.  I told him that all four of us need to be happy and feel like we are in a good place - and if he isn't happy with Hail Mary or doesn't want to be in his relationship with her, then we'll leave.

Yes.... I said that. I'm sure I'll get lots of email from people telling me that that's wrong, but it's how I feel.  THEY still have to come first.... and Hail Mary knows that - and if she wants to be with me - then she has to accept that as well.

Thankfully The Boy wanted no such thing.... he loves Hail Mary and doesn't want to leave.
Phew.

But we had some rocky days and really rocky nights.... and poor Hail Mary was left to deal with every last tantrum and tear alllll on her own while I was at school.But she did it..... she took them on- she made up her own 'behavior charts' and made everyone stick to them.  She put stubborn kids to bed early when she had too, she took them out for ice-cream when they earned it.... and over the month, they found a bit of a rhythm and Hail Mary took The Boy on a 'date' of his own - to Red Robin and for a walk..... so they could 'bond' a little bit without The Girl jumping around and taking away attention.  I think that night was a bit of a breakthrough, honestly.... 

We still have some bumpy days and nights ahead..... but I'm not sure there is any other way to test the dedication of the person you are with when you're a  'single Mom' - than leaving your kids for a whopping 125 HOURS during one months..... it's like trial by fire.... lol.  

I'm glad we all came out the other side - alive, still happy, may be a little stronger and closer.... and me with my CNA certificate..... onward and upward... right?

First of all... sorry I suck and haven't blogged.  I really am.  It's *hard*, so hard.... to try to raise two kids, do homework, work and go to night school which is Mon - Fri from 6-10 and all day Saturday and then turn around and work all day Sunday.... so, it's been a rough month and I can post more about that later..... but today I want to say this:

Of the *many* things that I have not gotten right as a parent, and of the *many* things that I feel guilty for - the worst of most of them is that I have not put The Boy's photos into an album since he was 6 months old.... and I have NEVER put The Girl's in an album yet.

Or printed them out.
Yes... you read that right.

Sure, sure.... I make the holiday card and I make prints for the walls, but, so far as printing small pictures or putting them into an album.... nope. Nada. Not a ONE.  Sigh.

I have them all.... over 100GB of images saved onto my computer and (almost all) backed up onto an external harddrive... which, in a photographers world is about as 'safe' as dangling a million dollars from a ceiling and over an open flame... eventually:  it's all gonna go up in flames.

So, with all this extra time I have on my hands (you know, because five hours of sleep at night was feeling just a tad too indulgent) - I thought I should start working on the kids photo books so that I can have them printed and not worry so much about losing the images.  I want to make digital books so that I can write comments and stories with certain photos, or certain days -and I found out a long time ago that you can actually download your facebook wall - did you know that?

Well, you can.  You can download you ENTIRE facebook - photos and comments and EVERY SINGLE POST that you ever made, from facebook to your computer.  This is *fanFUCKINGtastic* because I have facebooked every single day since The Girl was born and probably a yearish before that - so that's A LOT of life alllll recorded there in black and white.
facebook for the win.

I have always felt like time and life were slipping through my fingers faster that I would have liked...... I can remember being in London when I was 19 and .... those days were hard.  Really hard.  I was coming to terms with the ..... person my biological father was (I moved there to get to know him and his family) - and I was desperately alone when a month into living with him, I ended up moving out to a hostel in Camden.  I didn't know anyone.... not a single soul (outside of my dysfunctional relationship with my bio-Dad and his family), and I didn't have a single penny to my name.  

Literally. Not one fucking sterling pound or pence.  But I got a job at the McDonalds on the High Street and lived on soup and pasta and free grapes from the grocer outside our flat.  (I had the shits.... A LOT. lol)

I was, emotionally spent and damaged and I was lonely and sad..... so sad.  But, I would stand outside the door to the hostel that was lower than the street level with black wrought iron bars over it's heavily painted blue surface and I would run my hand over the curves of the bars and I would close my eyes and focus on the rounded edges of the cobble stone under my feet and I would just stop. I would stop and breathe in the dank smell of urine and urban life and Camden market and I would think to myself:  I WANT to remember this.  When I'm old and grey and dying... or when I'm a Mom with kids and a life... or where I am in the future:  I want to remember THIS.  This time.  This place.  This MOMENT, so that I don't take it for granted. So that I don't lose the importance and the motherfucking MAGIC of being 19 years old and living in MOTHERFUCKING LONDON.... to the desperate loneliness and sadness that I felt at the time.

After that I would frequently stop - backstage at a show I was working, lying on the top bunk in a tour bus, at a dinner party with friends, walking along Sauciehall Street or Argyle Street or sitting in the tiny wee park in Leicester Square:  close my eyes and just breathe in the moment and *promise* myself not to forget all those little amazing moments that make up our life, but pass by us so quickly at the same time.

When I had The Boy, I thought A LOT about how fast the time was going.  About how life changes and people grow up and grow old and how now.... ALL THOSE TIMES that my Mom would stand in the kitchen and just ask for a hug... and how I would, in all my 16 year old 'coolness', and throw an errant arm around her quickly and then dash out the door to my friends waiting in the honking car:  because I didn't understand..... then.  When you're a teeenager you dont' understand the *journey* your parents have been on to get you to this place - this place where slamming doors and angry words and breaking curfews now fill the place where hugs and kisses and hours of playing together on the floor and tea parties of 'air' once were.....  Because now, as a Mom spoiled with tiny little baby hands that held me and hugged me and held onto me for *dear life*..... I understood that those same hands would grow up and stop holding onto me no matter how hard I wanted to keep my grip on them......
Because that's what kids do.... they grow up.
Man..... kids kind of suck.

So I would just sit and be grateful.
I would hold those baby hands with their sweet dimpled knuckles and trace the fingers as they interlaced with mine.  I would kiss them and smell them and tell my heart and my mind to never forget them......
I would go to bed every night with The Boy's head placed over the top of my arm which would wind down and I would hold his feet in my hands.
Months rolled by and I would keep holding those feet and waiting for the day when those feet grew past my hands and I could no longer hold onto them.
And it came.
But I still cradled him in my arm.... every single night until The Girl was born.

Now the reality of that 'Hallmark' moment is that, more often than not, I woke up soaked in spit up or pee..... but, as I looked over my facebook wall...... I would post all the time - how I had woken up to a smiling giggling baby and a bed with a 'mystery wet spot'.... and how I was so grateful for both because you can't have one with out the other.  

I did SO WELL at finding those little moments to try and train my brain to *never forget* those baby curls and first rolls and first words and first moments and first days of school..... but as the days turn into weeks and months and years... I see a picture of the kids as babies and I'm instantly aware of how much I DON'T remember.
Sigh.

I have blogged before about my Goodwill Christmas.... and I am so grateful NOW that I didn't waste that year being angry that we didn't have enough money to buy fancy stuff... I just focused on making it as good as I could and being happy with what we had..... and how that turned out to be one of the only Christmas's that The Girl would have with both her parents sitting under the tree together and how NOW... it was so much about being happy and 'making do'.... NOW that Christmas has such a larger meaning for the children.
A meaning and an importance I could have never planned for or seen coming......

So.

Today's Blog is a challenge for you.

If you're anything like me.... you're running around, plying the kids with movies and cookies to stay in the living room so you can keep cooking.
You're knee deep in Comet cleaner and sweating your ass off because it seems like the more you clean - the bigger the mess everyone else in the house is CURRENTLY making... rendering your sweating/cleaning nearly useless.....
You're dashing out to stores and counting pennies and wondering how many deals you can snake on Black Friday..... 
And.... if you're *really* like me at all... then you're raising your voice and sending overly excited children who are brimming with joy and teeming with anticipation for the holidays which is boiling over and getting the way of you GETTING THINGS DONE.... dammit.... to their rooms, or time out..... because in family and the in-laws and the neighbors or a co-worker are allllll coming over and by fucking GAWD you want to have one of the most, bestest Pintrestest Thanksgivings on the damn planet...... because that's what we've sold ourselves.

Images of Moms in tightly fitted sweaters and pearls and hair swept up with an apron tied at the waist.... and a husband who lights candles and carves the turkey and crazy relatives bringing nasty things like marshmallow jello molds.... 

Run less.
Yell less.
Threaten time out.... less.

May be even cook less..... certainly, if you're stressed out and freaking out and brandishing wooden spoons covered in batter as weapons to small children running through the living room.... don't worry about making those cute cupcakes that look like turkey's with the nutter-butter shoved through the middle.

Just.... fuck it.
Make regular old cupcakes.... if time is getting away from you and you're losing those moments that MATTER to bullshit and picture-perfect standards that don't matter..... just let yourself stop.

The truth is, this could be your last something..... 
May be this will turn into the last Thanksgiving you had before so-and-so got diagnosed with Cancer.... or someone died in a tragic accident.... may be it'll be the last year your Grandparents are here with you, or may be your kid is going off to college and NEXT YEAR, he'll be going to his girlfriend/boyfriends house on the East Coast..... aliens could invade the planet, pillage your home and we could all be living underground wondering if John Carter is *really* coming.... or, may be your husband will run off with a 22 year old..... who the fuck knows.

May be it's the last Thanksgiving of YOUR marriage.... 

If that's the case, and some kind of life changing event happens .... trust me.... FUCKING TRUST ME.... those Pintrest Turkey cupcakes will be the LAST thing you remember... but probably the thing you spent the most time on.... so don't do it.

Don't waste time you could spending holding your own Grandmother's hand, tracing the wrinkles between her fingers and listening to stories about USO dances and the war and living life on a budget..... just so that you can make sure the bathroom is cleaner.
Anyone who cares that you're toilet isn't 'clean enough' but it coming over for Thanksgiving dinner.... isn't really your friend.... just sayin.

Don't spend your time rushing and yelling and being annoyed that your husband isn't 'doing enough' to help you - because all he wants to do is sit and watch the game and enjoy the day and you want to get out the fancy holiday dishes and you forgot they were buried in the attic and now he has to climb up there and spend the afternoon digging them out..... fuck it:  eat on paper plates.  Just, eat together.
That's all that really matters.... just being together.

GIVE YOURSELF THE GIFT OF SAYING.... fuck it.

Cook your dinner and spend time with your family and give yourself countless chances to STOP and close your eyes and take it all in..... the smell of turkey juice burning on the oven floor, the feel of flour between your fingers, the sound - THE GLORIOUS FUCKING SOUND - of your children fighting in the living room because your son DOES NOT want to watch Sophia The First for the hundredth time that day..... 

Because whatever happens down the road..... you'll remember that day, that time, when you *were* altogether, in your dysfunction and not-as-clean-as-you-want-it-to-be-house.... and even if it feels like it wasn't 'perfect' in that moment and at that time.... life could re-define for you what perfect is and you might just remember that day and that time as the most whole, perfect moment of your life..... burning rolls, fighting kids, lazy husband and all....... 

Tomorrow I'll be waking up to the woman I love.
Writing Thankful notes to the kids on the bathroom mirror.
We might shower... we might not.  I might brush their hair... well... probably I'll brush their hair.
We're having cereal and milk and then dashing out the door to use a GROUPON a client gave me to take the kids to see FROZEN... where we will eat shared popcorn out of our dollar store popcorn buckets, and drink water bottles I bought at Walmart and tucked into the band of my jeans and snuck into the theater.  
I will be GRATEFUL when we sit Boy - Hail Mary - Girl - Me  - because everyone rights over who gets to sit next to Hail Mary and not me... lol.  
I will give The Girl the matching doll to the movie that I bought with a Toys R Us card that a client 'paid' me with... so she can hold the doll while watching the movie.
Then we will take the kids to El Capitan's house for a few hours while Hail Mary and I get to spend some time together.... then we will go to The Bubbie and The Papa's house.... and I'm not going to stress out about what time we get there and what we're wearing and what we're bringing and blah blah blah.......
I'm going to stop as many times as I want and just take in the voices and the sounds and the smell of the day... and just be Thankful for what I have and grateful for the people in my life.
I hope you do, too.


Happy Thanksgiving.

Alrighty then.......

So I got this comment today:

last year I wrote to you and expressed some feelings to you---you blasted me but its ok----I told you you were wrong in pushing a relationship with the ow and el capitan,neither has the maturity for a relationship never mind parenting--people who lie and cheat have no morals or compassion---he really acted so mean to you and to abandon 2 kids is unforgivable-------I also said that she was afraid of the crazy wife as he im sure described you to her----he placated you all the time and you fell for it---he made sure you never gave out their identity and information about the affair,he was sure you would protect his ass-----YOU ALWAYS GAVE HIM A PASS<ALWAYS_----HE WAS LIKE YOUR 3 CHILD THE ONE YOU NEEDED TO PROTECT----I told you that the incident in the car with your son was going to be a problem emotionally for your son later on in life---this is the time the jerk did not want your son to go up to his hotel room,yelled at him,scared the shit out of him and all your son did was cry and cry and the jerk left your son out there crying --what a jerk he is----I also described to you how the ow abused my children---SOFTLY,SHE KILLED THEIR SPIRIT SOFTLY----no one saw it only my kids----they are still in therapy and the scars are deep---my fault because I wanted them to be with their father,little did I know that he never paid attention to them and she was doing her THING,SHE WAS KILLING MY KIDS SOFTLY----I will never forgive myself---I should have never insisted in the being together ----my children eventually refused to go see their father and he blamed me for it----my children have no contact with him as stipulated by the court and psychologist----you can imagine what my children have said behind closed doors and I will never know----we are happy alone just the 5 of us and I am enough for them---I have told them this is it this is what life has given us and we deal with it,no fantasies about "family"--WE ARE FAMILY,JUSY US---el capitan controls you emotionally he only tells you whay he knows you want to hear---he is not honest remember he is a cheater,he knows how to play the game,but he is not your friend or a partner in co parenting---he is just playing you---he always protectedla novia from you and he is still doing it---ELLE PLEASE WAKE UP AND SAVE YOUR CHILDREN FROM EMOTIONAL ABUSE___your son is already asking you to save him and you need to listen to him,dad yells and curses at us WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED_____I MISSED THE SIGNS,PLEASE SAVE YOUR CHILDREN AND GET THEM AWAY FROM THOSE TWO LOW LIFE ANIMALS__if he wants to see them then he sees them in your home----THEY DO NOT WANT YOU IN THEIR LIVES SO WHY DO YOU INSIST___HIDING IN THE BATHROOM___AND OF COURSE THE CHEATER GOES ALONG WITH IT___HE IS PROBABLY THE ONE TELLING HER TO DO IT____WAKE UP----AND WE ALL AGREE IT IS TIME TO POST TGEIR PICTURES<NAMES AND ALL ABOUT THR BETRAYAL____THEY ARE THE BAD GUYS NOT YOU____BUT YOU DO KNOW THAT THEY WILL SMEAR YOUR NAME AS THEY ARE DOING NOW--STOP TELLING THAT CHEATER ABOUT YOUR LIFE AND YOUR SECRETS___CUT TIES WITH HIM___YOU NEED TO LET GO OF HIM____YOU HAVE NOT__STOP TALKING TO HIM ONLY YOUR KIDS HAVE TO TALK TO HIM TELL HIM TO SEND YOU E_MAILS- STOP TRYING TO BE MISS GOODY TWO SHOES___BE THE BITCH THAT YOU ARE___YOU ARE WOMAN AN AWESOME CREATURE

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

I do remember the comment made last year (not quite last year, but I think perhaps last April?) - and I *did* try to use the search feature on the website to find the original comment that she made that she references, but I couldn't find it..... but if memory serves - Jules warning me *against* trying for La Novia to have a relationship with/meet the kids.... and yes, I believe that I totally disagreed with her - to the point where I believe that my point was that *if* I as kind enough and open enough and forgiving enough.... that *we* would all come through this - together somehow.  Or, perhaps not 'together'.... but functional as a new 'family set-up' for the kids.

Well.... clearly:  I was wrong.

I was wrong and Jules was/is right.

The reality is, however, regardless of what does or does not go on at their Dad's house - the children will have to go to their Dad's as per our custody agreement.  Period.  I would have to have mounds and mounds of 'proof' of wrong doing/neglect/etc... and at the end of the day - cursing and being an ass to your kids is not reason enough for a court to remove or reduce a parents visitation.

Fuck.... if we're talking about cursing - I'm in trouble. lol... mind you - I don't really curse *at* my kids - though.... and it *pains* me to admit this, but since The Boy has been bringing up how often and how much El Capitan curses at/around them - it's caused an automatic reduction in the amount that I do it.

We even have a curse jar.
Yup.... I said it.  A curse jar.
Thankfully that jar doesn't have eyes and I can still write whatever I want on The Blog.

*This* week, however..... The Boy AND The Girl have both been saying cryptic things and about how "Daddy doesn't do that" or "Daddy doesn't do this......." - and upon a little of asking (ASKING not prodding) - The Girl told us that Daddy told them not to "tell Mommy when he uses naughty words".

This comes directly *after* I waited several rough visits to mention to him that a few 'things' probably needed to change between him and the kids..... and it got me that. 
Awesome.
Sigh.

So yes.... JULES.  You are/were right.
I will no longer 'encourage' anything..... if they see La Novia:  cool.  If they don't.... fine.

You hit the nail on the head when you said that I was putting them in harms way.... I totally did that. I send them over there - pumped up with hope and openness and willingness and it's getting slammed in their faces - and El Capitan doesn't GET THAT.... so their behavior takes a serious nose dive and he responds by screaming at them to "go to [their] fucking room"...... 

I've done that.  Me.  And .... *Rest assured* - that I won't be doing that anymore.
Period.

Am I going to "poison" them against anyone?  
Nope.
Am I going to turn their hearts hard and bitter?
Fuck no.
But..... I *AM* going to start being waaaaaay more honest in answers that are *Asked* for.

I'm also going to stop wasting my time.

I've put waaaaaaay too much time and energy into the collective relationships rather than in the ones in *THIS* house..... I've quire literally been drowning in the tsunami of anger and denial and waves of hope and trying and .... and .... and.... it's all for nothing.  

It's time for me to focus 100% on ME and them.
On the two of them together as siblings..... and on the four of US as a family.... 

La Novia's family is *her* problem.... and my kids are clearly not apart of that.  Melissa commented that it was a bit unfair for me to want to 'take over' La Novia's holiday - which I actually think is a totally valid point.
However, invitations to dinner were turned down for selfish/stupid/douchey reasons - NOT because she's looking forward to donning an apron and cracking eggs for stuffing with The Girl in her own kitchen.... THAT I coudl totally respect.  (and... had actually hoped for).

Instead.... there are no more trips to the zoo.  No more craft days or afternoons spent coloring.... it's swimming and the park and yelling and them "not behaving" and yelling and fighting and the kids living in a place where they are made to feel like guests.... how do I know this?

I wrote months ago about how La Novia was putting together a "behavior chart" for their place and I asked for a copy of the same "rules" at my house to support the whole thing.... I never got my copy.
Shocker.

Anyhow.... rule number two is "Five when people arrive."
Which means.... when *anyone* comes into that house - the children are supposed to give them five minutes to collect themselves and relax before the children "jump all over" them (El Capitan' words) - or talk to them etc...... which is bullshit.

The good PARENT looks forward to that moment when they walk in the door from a day at work and their kids come running up to them with the joy and excitement that only children have.... and yammer on about the day and want hugs..... 

Note:  I said *PARENTS*...... sadly - it's clear that my children don't have 'parents' in their Father's home, they have 'roommates'..... and that sucks.

They are not the center of that home... they are annoying little guests who run too much, yell too loud (it's an apartment, El Capitan reminds me!), who doesn't listen and knock over wine glasses left by the couch and throw balls onto glass candle holders that break and they just need to "chill out".... and give these 'adults' "Five when people arrive"......

Fine.
But when we start telling the children that a 'sock on the door means don't come in'..... I think I'll be done sending them over for that.   just sayin'.

In my home.... IN THEIR HOME.... my children yell and fight and run up the stairs when they aren't supposed to... they talk back and jump alllll over *whoever* walks in our front door... and so they should.  They are children.  This is a family and this is a FAMILY HOME... I expect nothing else from them, and when they need to disciplined, there are boundaries and reasons and explanations - and love.... lots of love.  But overall, they know they belong here.
Sigh.