TILTW: 11.24-11.30

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I'm so glad NaBloPoMo is over as of this post. I like my little blog. I love writing. But feeling like I have to do so every single day is just not for me... or a bunch of other folk. ;)
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I'm elated that our family circles don't really do gift wish lists.
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I really want to give more to those in need. Last year I was able to adopt a family to give a gift to at Christmas. This year they're not doing that and it sucks. Yes, I bring in canned goods and unwrapped toys for Toys for Tots, but I want to give more. And I want Lovie to see me give more. Her school set up a large decorated box next to the sign-in area for toy donations. I mentioned to Lovie that we need to get a toy or two to bring in for the box. She started sulking, "But I want a new toy." It was pathetic and I know she wants and deserves a new toy (we don't buy much throughout the year and her birthday is 4 days after Christmas so she's in "need"). She's still so little and doesn't grasp that there are people out there who need--truly need--food, shelter, clothing, toys. Sadly we don't belong to a church or anything that might have a wishing tree or whatever where you can adopt a family and since we're not doing it at work, I need to find out where to be able to do this. I need Lovie to be a part of it- pick the family or something. She's not grasping it when we go shopping and buy for others because she wants it... maybe if she's a part of picking the person/family, it will click more? I don't want her to feel bad or sad, but I need her to know that this season isn't about receiving.
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A month from today, we'll be recouping from Lovie's 3rd birthday party and preparing to ring in a new year. WOW does time fly.

The last month

One month from today, my sweet baby doll will be turning three years old.

 

THREE

 

There's one thing I can say for certain about that...

These have been the best three years of my life.

 

 

Oh me oh my I'm so incredibly blessed.

 

Now, please excuse me as I get a bit verklempt thinking about all this.

 

 

 

words absolutely can hurt

My mom shipped me and my brother off to stay with my grandparents during the summer before I turned 10. My grandparents lived in the city in a 2 flat with my uncle living in the apartment below them. On weekends, my favorite cousin in the world, just six months older than me, would visit her dad (my uncle). It was the highlight of my time at my grandparents that summer because during the week, when it was just my brother and me and my grandparents, life was horribly dull. We weren't allowed to watch TV, we weren't allowed to be in the house most of the time. We could only eat what was provided at the time it was provided and we had no contact with our friends back home.

I was miserable and angry, so one day during my stay at Oma and Ota's, I wrote a letter to my cousin describing my misery. In it I referenced our grandmother as being a bitch. I tucked the letter in a dresser in my cousin's room for her to find the next weekend she'd visit her dad.

A day or so later, my uncle asked me to come down into my cousin's bedroom where he confronted me about the letter.

He was so very upset with me, I thought he might cry. I was so shocked he found the letter, I didn't really know what to say. All I knew was that I didn't mean the words as they were taken.

"Please don't tell Oma I said that," I remember begging.

He assured me he would never say such horrible words to her and I breathed a sigh a relief, but he also assured me that he was horribly upset with what I had done. He made me promise to never even think such awful things about Oma again. And I promised. I cried and I promised because the truth of the matter is that Oma always was and always will be the most important woman in my life.

She means so much to me, I can't even clearly express it. So the fact that I know I wrote those words of my own fruition, and that her beloved son read them and interpreted them in the worst way possible, slices my heart. Even at almost 10. And it still does today.

photo unknowingly snapped from my cell phone on 11/24/12

I have a shitty memory but that's one moment I will never forget. And every single time I see my grandmother and hug her frail body, I think of the damn letter and the awful words I wrote and thank God she never found the letter that my uncle destroyed before she could see it. If she ever, even for one moment, thought I disrespected her in such a way, I'd be mortified.

She's my Oma and I love her more than words could ever say.

the night shift { - FICTION - }

You know, I don’t even remember his name- and I’m ok with that. I had desires that needed to be met and he met them. Wonderfully well. Actually, he exceeded them. How can I not remember his name then? Because it was a one-time thing and that’s what happens: You don’t talk much, you just fuck.

I enjoyed it so much I’m not sure what took me so long to go for it-- the one-night stand with a stranger.

I'd had a one-night stand before, of course, but I knew the guy. His name was Bruce and I lusted over him for quite some time before something happened. We were really good friends at work and he was going through a divorce. I wasn’t initially attracted to him, but time and alcohol in front of a bonfire happened, and that left me with a big smile on my face.

Until he told me two days later that it was a mistake and that he really just wanted to get back together with his soon-to-be-ex-wife. “But of course we could still be friends and hang at work.”

Oh boy was I crushed.

Until I started to dabble with online personal ads. After a couple months of flirting via email and instant messaging, I started meeting up with some guys. Soon, I discovered I was a hot commodity as they all seemed to want more than just sex. I wasn’t in a place for all the extra bullshit that comes along with more. I didn’t give a shit about their families or their past. I just wanted to get laid. And while that happened a couple of times, most wanted more and I began to pick up on it almost immediately.

The last guy I met up with from an online ad was pretty clear with his desires for a girlfriend as soon as we sat down at the bar, so after several strong drinks, I ditched him to go to the bathroom. When I came out, my eyes locked with this older guy standing at the end of the hallway of the bathrooms. As I turned to walk through the masses of people sweating and dancing to get back to my date at the bar, the older guy grabbed my arm.

Shocked, I turned to look at him and his mouth opened to say something, but the vibrating music ruled all. The force from his yank caught me off guard and I ended up nearly jumping on him as he said whatever he said before leaning in and breathing his warmth onto my neck.

I was absolute mush at that point and he knew it. He started kissing me and I kissed him back, tongues dancing with vigor. He put his hands around my waist and pulled me closer to him as he sat on a bar stool where I felt his hardness. I pushed away from him, grabbing his hand to follow me, and pressed our way through the crowds.

My fingers inside the waist of his paints pulling him toward me, I asked “Where’s your car?” as the cold, outside air smacked me in the face.

He smiled and I could see the wrinkles fold around his eyes. Then he led me to his car, and once sitting inside, we immediately started kissing again. I reached for his pants and he gripped my hand and said that we needed to get out of the parking lot we were in.

“Fine by me,” I said.

He drove to a desolate area near a strip mall and parked. We kissed some more before I unzipped his pants and went down on him. After a couple minutes he pulled me off him by my hair and asked if he could take me to a motel.

“Let’s go,” I answered. “I don’t normally do this kind of stuff but—“

He wasn’t listening.

“I don’t have condoms,” I lied.

“I do.”

He pulled into a motel and ran into the office. I sat there debating whether or not to get out of the car. I didn’t know the guy from Adam and he could’ve been some mass murderer or something. But I needed to get laid, so I took my chances. We got into the room and there was just a bed with a table. I don’t even think there was a TV but I suppose there must’ve been. All I know is he started peeling his clothes away, sat on the bed, told me to come toward him and lifted my shirt off. Then he took off my skirt and panties.

A couple hours later, still pitch black out, he said he had to go and asked where my car was. I told him it was at a McDonald's near the highway. We left the room and hopped in his car. He stopped outside the office and ran in to pay the bill while the clerk looked out at me. I knew what she was thinking because I was thinking it too, but I also didn’t give a fuck because for the first time in forever, I felt like a woman- cliché as that is.

He drove me to my car in silence and that was that.

I drove toward home and in the 45 minutes it took to get there, the sun was coming up. It was the perfect Saturday morning to stop off for fresh donuts for my husband and the kids.

Dispatching the overnight sure did have some perks.

 

day 26 NaBloPoMo: Listicle

Not a day goes by when I'm not grateful and thankful for my phone. It's not an iPhone but it is a smart phone with a nice little camera and man, what a godsend that handy little thing is... How lucky will Lovie be to have all these photos of her and her life to look back on (opposed to the not even one photo album from my youth... third child problems).

1= the sleeper part of our third "new" couch from Ashley Furniture in two months- the sleeper part constantly bottoms out and ends up on the floor. it's super hard not to get frustrated about this. the love seat is perfectly fine so I'm guessing it's just that this piece shouldn't be made as a sleeper, but the fact that Ashley won't just say that and rectify the situation with a new non-shitty sleeper, has really gotten on my last nerve.

2= Lovie on Thanksgiving night with 8 pony tails in her hair, napless, and about ready to pass out

3= Lovie putting ornaments on the tree the other night

4= Taye and Lovie watch Sofia the Princess

5= Finished Christmas Tree

6= Yesterday's "quiet time" results

7= Pancakes or Cheerios?

8= Christopher Pop-in-kins (cuter version-IMO-of elf on the shelf) has made his appearance

9= Miss "No I don't wanna nap" before a birthday party the other week.

10= Homage to Hostess

Day 25 NaBloPoMo: one month from today

not the greatest photo quality since this comes from my cell phone but it's better than nothing:

here's the before SOTC:

Day 24 NaBloPoMo: time

I can't believe it's Saturday already. And it's going to be damn busy-- gymnastics, lunch, long drive out to my mom and grandmothers place. We'll be lucky to be home by 7 tonight. Ugh I like slower days at home. At work the days drag and what I wouldn't do for some of that drag at home on the weekends. Thinking about having to blog every day doesn't help matters either. If I've learned anything through this month's commitment of blogging daily, it's that I'm really not a blogger. I'm just a doting mama who likes to write.

Thanksgiving Day

Here we are. It's 10:13 in the morning. I've got cinnamon rolls in my belly, the water is running in the kitchen while Taye does what he has to do to absolutely demolish the kitchen and create a fabulous Thanksgiving meal. I'm so thankful for him and his love of cooking (but I abhor the mess I always have to clean up).

Lovie's in the living room watching Mickey Mouse before Sofia the Princess comes on. She cried for us to cover her with blankets at 5:30 when she'd normally have to wake for the day (during the normal workweek), and proceeded to sleep in till after 8AM. Cray cray, I tell you!

The in-laws are set to come over around 3 (so they should be here by 5).

We still need to move the shitty couches and dining room table and chairs... and vacuum. Lord help us do we need to vacuum.

I'm excited for the day to end so we can get all the Christmas crap up tomorrow! I love me the holiday season with Lovie. So fun.

Gobble, gobble: Happy Thanksgiving.

Oh and go read and vote here and especially here. Do it. DO IT!

Day 21 NaBloPoMo: park visit

Stopped off at the park yesterday before the sun went down.

Watching her make her rounds amazes me. She's changed so much this year. So so much. She used to take her time getting into her play and now she just dives right in. The love she has for life is so beautifully infectious. I pray this love remains with her forever more.

Screwed { - Fiction - }

“I sealed my fate when I opened the door.” I lifted the glass to my mouth, allowing the crisp Reisling to wet my lips and linger in my mouth before continuing:  “How’s that for an oxymoron? Sealed… Opened? The story of my life!”

“You’re so fuckin dramatic,” Cassie said.

“Oh yeah, you’re right. I need to dial it back a notch. Getting engaged to a swinger isn’t something to be dramatic over.”

“You’re the one that said 'yes'.”

“Thanks for the support, Cass.”

“Look Taylor, you can still say 'no'.”

“I love him.”

“So who’s the moron now?” she said, tapping my foot with her toes to get me to look at her, whereupon she winked.

“Touche,” I smiled.

“Seriously, if you’re not comfortable with him being a fuckin swinger then stop seeing him. End the engagement.”

“I can’t.” I poured another glass of Reisling while Cassie waved her hand at me like we were at a blackjack table and she was staying put.

“You can do anything you want.”

“Cassie! It’s just not that cut and dry!”

We looked at each other and for the first time that evening, I noticed Cassie was wearing a red infinity scarf which immediately transported me back into the swingers club George took me to the week before where the theme seemed to be red, red, and more red.

“Anyway,” Cassie said, breaking the silence. “What happened? When you went inside?”

“I didn’t.”

“So what the hell are you talking about ‘you sealed your fate’?”

“I was talking about the dollhouse! When I opened the door to the dollhouse and saw the engagement ring!”

We both laughed and tossed back the remnants in our wine glasses.

“I have to admit,” Cassie said, picking up the wine bottle opener from the coffee table between us and fidgeting with it. “He scores points for creative proposals.”

“And he did say he wouldn’t go to anymore swingers’ clubs when we got married.”

Cassie shot a look at me and before she could speak, I quickly added, “I know it’s all a bunch of shit and this whole thing is just fucked up.”

“As long as you know,” she said.

“I need to end this.” Standing up and feeling a bit unsteady, I sashayed into the kitchen for another bottle of wine.

“Ya kinda do,” Cassie said, tossing the corkscrew opener onto the loveseat where I draped myself after opening the second bottle of Reilsing and pouring myself another glass of it. “If for nothing else, before your dad finds out he’s only five years younger than him.”

“Four,” I said.

“Huh?”

“He’s only four years younger.”

“Christ, Taylor,” she said, holding out her empty glass for a refill.

Girly girl BFFs

My pink and princess-loving girly-girl and her BFF celebrated her BFF's 3rd birthday yesterday at her BFF's house. Despite there being a good two dozen people in attendance (with about 10 littles ranging from 1-10), these two little chica's were inseparable.

And it made my heart swell watching them.

How I pray she will always have someone to sit beside, celebrate with, and snuggle next to forever and ever and ever.

Day 18 NaBloPoMo: technology

Can I actually transcribe a blog post by speaking into my phone? How f*cking bad*ss is that? Ha ha it even puts in the little Asterisks to avoid actually cussing. Too funny and too cool.

Of coarse I could just use Swype and that works easily too. Technology can be so damn awesome. And scary. What's to come, you know? Certainly my 89 year old grandmother never thought a day like today would exist...right? So what does Lovie's future hold? I mean besides turkey and the fixings on Thursday of course.

And speaking of technology, I've finally discovered or gotten on the Pandora bandwagon. Now that is badass (Heh take that asterisk!). I "discovered" it cuz I can't recall the last time I bought a CD yet I really really really am loving the sounds of those Mumford and Sons boys.

Day 17 NaBloPoMo: first

Today is brought to you by the word FIRST because today I'm posting from my phone for the first time and yesterday, my Lovie enjoyed a Hostess Zinger for the first time. She enjoyed it too...sadly. Also for the first time, something I wrote appeared on TheBump.com's blog (link in yesterdays post or on twitter) yesterday!

TILTW: 11.10-11.16

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I could get very used to working only three days a week.
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I love my new hair cut. Check it out:

yes, it's naturally curly and gray.

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My dad is finally comprehending that sometimes people might not have a good reaction to things he just "has" to say. Will it stop him from opening his mouth so much in the future? Uh, no. The man is 79 and very much stuck in his ways.
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I'm elated to announce that my first blog post for The Bump is being published today!
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The answer to Monday's (or Tuesday) post is NOT #3. I absolutely love Nutella. No, the answer is... #7: I've moshed in a mosh pit. Good job on the guess, Amy! :)
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Cray Cray

Lovie is a talker. She always has been. I swear she said her first word (Kitty- or a form of it) at like six months, followed shortly thereafter by Da-da on Father's Day. Granted, I don't think she really meant daddy, but her timing was pretty badass.

But that's Lovie for you. She's pretty badass for an almost 3-year-old.

The other day when we were home and I was changing her pull-up (cuz she's not badass enough to have potty trained herself yet), she looked me in the eyes and said, "Mama you cray cray."

"Excuse me?" I said, trying not to erupt in laughter and wondering if my ears heard her correctly.

"You cray cray, mama," she said.

"I'm cray cray?"

She laughed. I laughed. Loudly. So much so I had to hold my stomach for a moment.

"Where did you hear that?" I asked her, knowing very well it came from school.

"Anthony tells Kaitlin she's cray cray." (Two her class/playmates at school.)

Again, I laughed.

"What did Kaitlin say to Anthony?"

"She says to Anthony 'I no cray cray!'"

"So now I'm cray cray?"

We both laughed loudly.

 

5.) Tell us and/or show us something that made you smile this week.

Bigger { - FICTION - }

I’m 12 years old.

I don’t know why that sticks out so much but it does.

I think it’s because I’m missing my granddaddy today a lot more than normal and he’d always tell me, each and every time I saw him, how easy it was to remember how old I was because I was born in the year 2000. And since it’s now 2012… well, you get the idea.

I think I miss him so much because I know he’d be able to help make me feel better. He always did. He always made me feel important. He always talked to me and asked questions and really listened to my answers. He was so strict, but he also had this amazingly big laugh that rumbled through the room. But it wasn’t a scary laugh. It was warm, inviting.

His hugs were amazing, too. And even though I’m a guy, I can admit that I loved hugging him. And I miss hugging him.

He just seemed to always know how I was feeling. And, he always seemed to care. Like, genuinely.

I miss him so much.

I bet he’d look across the table at my dad during a Sunday visit and give him a disapproving look to show him that what he’s doing isn’t right. Mom and dad aren’t even divorced yet and he let that lady move into the house. And with her stupid dog. She’s nice and all, but she’s not my mom. She seems to like me just fine, but it’s just not fair that she’s there and mom isn’t. It’s been like a month since I’ve last seen mom, too, and I just don’t understand why Marianne sees me every day but my own mom doesn’t.

I don’t even know when this all happened or why. I just know that I’m tired of it all. And angry.

I moved here when I was 3 years old so I don’t remember Florida. I only remember my life here. And I remember my granddaddy. He’s been gone now for half my life, but I still remember him. And I still miss him so very much.

I’m sure he would tell my dad that he’s an idiot for letting Marianne move in with us with Oscar. I bet he would’ve stopped it from happening.

He probably would’ve even stopped my mom from leaving us.

I don’t know…

If the first 12 years of my life have been like this, what’s going to happen the next 12?

Will there even be a next 12?

I miss my mom and my granddaddy. My mom’s at least still alive.

Granddaddy was right when he said “Bigger problems come with bigger people” when I would always tell him how I wanted to be bigger. Now that I'm finally bigger, I have bigger problems.

Life kind of sucks.

 

 

 

One truth

I'm gonna list 10 things and one of them is the truth, but only one. Can you figure it out? Come on and give it a whirl...

1.   I sucked my thumb till I was 12.

2.   I lost my virginity at at 17.

3.   I hate Nutella.

4.   I moved 10 times in life so far.

5.   I love living in the city.

6.   I love politics.

7.   I've moshed in a mosh pit.

8.   I get my hair cut every three months.

9.   I've only ever had one cavity.

10. I love having the biggest boobs in the world.

day 12 (late) NaBloPoMo: potty chair

It's 3:45 in the morning. I'm nearly four hours late in posting for day 12 of NaBloPoMo. I have good reason though, I swear.

Sunday night I went to bed feeling a horrible pit in my stomach. At 1AM, I was up and in the bathroom until about 3:30AM with stuff coming out of both ends of me- simultaneously.

Thank goodness for Lovie's potty chair!

The last time I puked was at 9:30 in the morning yesterday. It was a rough, rough day. I had a small fever all day and just couldn't really move out of bed.

At 8PM last night, I finally was able to eat something more than a saltine.And here I am at 3:45 in the morning, sitting down in front of the computer for the first time in days.

So glad I got that flu shot earlier last month. ;D

day 11 NaBloPoMo: last night at dinner

My 79 year-old dad upset Taye last night at dinner out when he told him that we spoil Lovie. This isn't the first time my dad has said this and while most things my dad says (which is way too much) rolls off of Taye, this time, Taye got a little upset.

"I understand you 'have to say things' that are on your mind but you need to understand that sometimes that won't make people very happy," Taye apparently told my dad whilst I had stepped away from the table with an unruly Lovie who was overtired and wanting to go home.

"Children shouldn't be an inconvenience," my dad allegedly told Taye.

"You're right," Taye responded, very offended. "Maybe if some people like your other children didn't act so inconvenienced by their children, their children wouldn't be so screwed up. My child is not an inconvenience, she's our responsibility."

Apparently that silenced my dad- the tidbit about his other children being inconvenienced by their children.

Thing is, hearing my dad say Lovie is spoiled, doesn't really offend me much because I know he's not referring to her being spoiled in a matter that she gets absolutely whatever she wants, that she can behave in any way she wishes. No, he means she's spoiled by our love and attention. I'm certain that's what he means because guess what? She absolutely is spoiled by our love and attention.

Because as Taye told my dad last night, she's our responsibility and we're so incredibly blessed and honored- every day (and even through the unruly behaviors)- to be her parents.

So yeah. She's spoiled. Rottenly so. And it won't ever change.

day 10 NaBloPoMo: reason

For a while now I've been one of those nut jobs who believes that things happen for a reason. Even when I miscarried in 2008 and endured the darkest days of my life, I believed there was a reason in the end.

This year has been full of so much change in Lovie's life. So much growth. All good, necessary stuff, but a lot of it, nevertheless.

Last night I got a taste of the reason behind all that change when I spent half the night on the floor in her room beside her bed.

At about 1AM I heard a bunch of commotion and because I had to pee, I was able to wake more completely. Good thing because moments later, Taye brought in Lovie wearing only a pullup. She had puked everywhere, the poor thing.

She didn't have a temperature and wasn't really complaining about anything, she just puked. A lot. Everywhere in her room (somehow even the room darkening shades got hit!).

So she laid with me in bed for a bit. A long bit, actually. I know I fell asleep telling her spooky stories. And then she started tossing and turning and whining and ... more puke. Blech, blech, blech.

Again, she didn't complain much, just puked and got it over with.

Because I needed to change her into her third set of jammies for the night, we ended up back in her room where I laid on Gigantor Bear- a five foot stuffed bear I picked up last year from Costco. The rest of the "night" I laid there on Gigantor Bear while she slept in her bed beside me. She tossed and turned a lot. And when she wasn't tossing and turning, I was resting my hand on her to make sure I could feel some breathing.

It wasn't a fun evening but could've been oh so much worse. She never had a fever, she just puked several times.

This morning she seems perfectly fine.

What "reason" did I come to terms with last night regarding all the growth and change from this past year? Had she still been in a crib, it would've been one helluva a long ass night.