Still

Death Does Not Become Her

So today, I had, my my very first near death experience.

The last week of sun, in my little dark town.  I anchor my boat, like I have done, a dozen times before this summer. I coax my six year olds off the boat, where we can explore and have fun. We swim 30 feet away from the boat, we are maybe the same distance from the island. The water is cold, a little choppier than usual, but we are veterans.  As we reach our halfway mark, a boat speeds by, in our no wake zone. The wake from this boat is enough to frazzle us, but the reciprocation of the wake beating on the island rocks and hitting us twice is more than our our strength can handle.

My daughters become a scared anchor that I can't support. They are afraid as the waves keep beating us under. Even with their life vests I know the situation is dangerous and I can't save us. They are climbing up me like I am a tree screaming, that they are drowning, and I feel the same. Every time they reach for me they pull me down and I am helpless, thinking. is this how we are going to perish?

And in that moment I had to make a decision. I was forced with making a choice. I did not think I could save us, the shore and the boat seemed mikes away, and I was drowning. I realized, my swimming technique was not what I thought it was, I was no Lochte. And as I was swallowing half the lake and praying to whatever God existed, I swam., I, the woman whom always said she would give up when shit got hard, swam. I pulled my babies to shore, threw up on the banks, and cried, but I saved us. I turned into a Mama Bear and I rescued my cubs, primal instinct kicked in.

I remember watching the movie Titanic and thinking, yup, I'd be the old couple calling it a day. But, I guess today wasn't my day, I didn't say "yup". I struggled, I used every muscle in my body and every breath of encouragement to get my daughters to shore. As the waves were beating down on us from different directions and no hope could be found, I dug deep, I found something I didn't even know, and we found safety.

I guess today I learned, I am a fighter.

Another One Bites The Dust

So here I am, another late night or should I say early morning! I am jaded, I am scarred.i sit her alone stating how it's what works for me! All I need is a text or two throughout the day just reminding me that my corner is occupied? I have more men than I can count, wanting what they can't get, but whatever.  Just follow through, I ask for so little.

Where the hell am I?

So it is no secret that I love me some Adam Levine, the things I can only dream of doing to that man.  Anyways, tomorrow his movie comes out, it very well, may turn out to be horrible, I do not care.  I actually, really enjoy going to the theater myself, I enjoy a lot of things by myself, I guess that is one of my flaws.  Anyways, I will not be seeing Adam tomorrow, because he is no where to be found here in the sticks or even in Spokane!  I must admit, after my internet searches proved to be futile, I did shed a few tears.  Not because I couldn't watch the movie, but because I thought that if I was still residing where I did a month ago, there would be some theater in the Sacramento area where I could view my Maroon 5 frontman.  I have daily thoughts on the decisions I have made that have led me to this place where I am right now.  I will probably question this move for a little bit. 


How do we know what we did was right? 

Mama's Back!

Maybe what the problem is... I don't write anymore.  I here I sit, in my boy shorts and tank top, wrapped up in a blanket, feeling sorry for myself.  The real problem may be, that the outlet, I used to use, to express my feelings, I have let go.  I went through, death, divorce, and drunkenness.  ( how unknowingly all d's)  And yet. come out, unscathed! And yet here I stand (sit) melancholy and forlorn.  No shit, Sherlock!  Wake your ass up and use your therapy!


So here it is.


I have been through a lot lately.  Blah, blah, I know, haven't we all?  My "problems" in comparison to most, are bullshit, I get it!  I am living in a mansion, next to John Elway and the guy Sypowitz from NYPD Blue.  Lap of luxury, beautiful views, I saw an elk with one of my twins yesterday on our way back from the store.  Last night while having a very emotional conversation in the driveway for hours, I saw 20 plus shooting stars.  I get to take my girls to the lake or a river every day to feed 15 different varietals of birds and their babies, I know the blessings that I am receiving.


Then why am I so sad, is it because I wasn't granted the goodbyes, I had been counting on?  Is it because I am lonely?   Is it because I am used to not having family, and now I am surrounded by my ex husbands?  Maybe, it is because I have finally realized, that I am just going to do this forever, being a mom is all I can be.  That is an amazing task, and I am pretty fucking good at it, but that's where the road ends with me.  There is no man walking through my door at the end of the day that I have to paw off til the kids are in bed and he can ravage me.  There is no one, that realizes I am crazy but accepts me for it, overlooks it, if you will, and still loves me like he has loved no other women.  It's me, and my kids.  Me, okay with myself, flaws and all, loves my dvr, a bottle of wine and fully charged batteries.  Me, fish out of water, stars at night, elk at dusk, Elway in an orange boat telling me I look good in a bikini, Me, alone, forever mom. 

Rewind Button Please

http://youtu.be/ywtJYvDBKek

Bitch Fest Part One

So apparently when shit is really on my mind, I do not blog.

I get upset, I get mad, I don't want to admit to anything.

Also, original blog, was a title that included motherhood, and all I do is bitch is about my personal life, apparently, it is time for a change.

I feel selfish, my life, is good in most aspects.

I have a man, and even though I lost my job, live with him and have two kid in the home, he supports them.

Really, why the fuck am I still complaining?

Weird, when you move in with someone, shit gets real, everything changes!  I guess that is the same in marriage.

Fuck me.  Literally, fuck me!  We aren't married, you are not a woman!

I should be happy.  I live in a beautiful house.  Actually, have a great friendship and lot of fun with Mr. Phd, he is messy, but I am learning to deal.  Is it really right of me to complain about sex?

I feel like a man!

More later, hard to write when he is sitting one foot away!