A parting of paths

I am missing someone tonight. They know who they are. Someone who inspired and uplifted me. Someone I looked forward to sharing my thoughts with. A parting of ways that was best for all concerned...but a loss none the less. Sometimes people cross paths at the wrong time in life. Different directions lead them to opposite destinations.

My path is clearly being cut for me, chiseled into a route of healthy habits and postive thinking....not everyone will be joining me on this journey. If I am to stay healthy, I must leave them behind. They won't be forgotten. If you are reading this there is a place in my heart of you.

Already bucking the system

Well I made it through the day....hubby went back to work today and I survived with my two kids alone without hiding under the covers...at least until he got home. It takes so much energy to 'fake it' for them, that tonight I feel like I have run a marathon. I feel like I am walking through water. My brain is empty. My emotions are numb.

I can tell the double dose of Cymbalta created some manic symptoms today, they were a welcome reprieve from the depths of despair of earlier this week. I can see why so many bipolar patients end up refusing treatment or not staying on course....If I were completely honest with myself I would tell you that I strongly fear loosing the mania. The energy. The creativity. The lack of need for sleep. The crazy antics and the wild hair ideas. Part of me doesn't want to find the 'happy medium'. And I think if I didn't have kids I would refuse treatment. But the crash involved when the mania escapes is too much of a burden on my family. And while I have yet to ever be suicidal I am aware that if bipolar disorder goes untreated for years the depression side of it come become down right scary. I don't want to be that person. So I am going to have to be willing to sacrifice some of my crazy ass energy and tendencies in order to become a more stable and healthy person. I am afraid of it.

The more research I do, the more I can already say I have become very prejudice to Lithium and I pray that this drug is not something on the agenda for me. There are so many drugs out there to try...I will push for an alternative. As a writer, as an artist, as a creative person I refuse to sacrifice myself to the numbing holy altar of Lithium. I watched my mother succumb to this drug as well, and in the end it was not appropriate for her condition, but the side affects were sad. I don't want to be a zombie....and perhaps I am mistaken about this drug, but I will fight to keep it out of my body. I want to be well informed about the drugs that are going to be shoved down me to try to make me 'normal'

Funny I didn't used to worry about any drugs I consumed...the more the better, and the greater the intoxication the better....now here I am 'clean'... and all fucked up in the head....ain't life just a barrel of monkeys.

P.S. Some of you may have noticed a big change in my playlist....big changes in life called for some more appropriate tunes....enjoy

MIL Madness

I realize that some of this could be a symptom of my illness...but I cannot stop obsessing over the words my MIL spoke to me last night and how much they have hurt. She wasn't mean about it...it's just the fact that she said them at all. And now I feel as if I have no outlet...no reprieve...when the kids are more than I can take and I need a few hours to recoup...I am out of options. The fact that she says she 'has no life' over this just tears out my gut. She works part time, and I know that having the kids one evening a week and on Saturday mornings does eat up a lot of her time...but I had no idea I was causing her such 'grief'. It's all I can think about this morning and the tears just keep coming. I keep trying to figure out an alternative. A way to give up some of my jobs without bankrupting us. Obviously at some point the day care is going to have to go. But I have two pregnant mommies counting on me, a new baby supposed to start next month....and what do I say???? WTF do I say????

And what do I say to her??? I love her. She is the mother of my husband. We have our problems...no doubt...but I don't want to hurt her. And even if I did choose to bring this up and how badly it hurt me, it will be blamed on my illness. In fact from now on every issue we ever have from here on out will be blamed on my illness. That is her MO...all her issues with her husband get blamed on his drinking, issues with my husband get blamed on his 'sensitivity' etc....it's never her fault, and now everyone has the ultimate ammunition against me. Which sounds a bit paranoid...but not untrue. My side of the family is used to dealing with mental illness....his family, mmm not so much. Although there have been several suicides back in the family tree, so they aren't completely free from the demon.

I am writing her a letter I fully intend to NOT give to her. Maybe it will at least make me feel a bit better. She will chalk them up to the ramblings of a madwoman....maybe they are.

The Verdict is in....drum roll please....

Bipolar Disorder....who's shocked? Let me see a show of hands?!

Yeah yeah...I knew it all along, didn't we talk about this about 2 months ago? I'm the dumbass who talked myself out of the appointment. I am feeling better after talking to my doctor. I have been given medication to get the panic attacks under control and my Cymbalta has been upped temporarily to try to lift me out of this episode. But I have to admit I am feeling much better tonight. Just purging it all to my doctor helped tremendously. He chastised me for using the terms "nuts" "crazy" "whack job" "psycho" etc...clearly he doesn't appreciate my humor! LOL! But he confirmed what I suspected all along. Now I am being moved along to a head shrinker to get the in depth scoop. I will know more about that appointment tomorrow. It may be a month or so before I get in, as long as I have no 'scary feelings'....but I already feel like a burden has been lifted from me. It is in God's hands now and I have faith that by taking control of this and reigning it in, I will be just fine.

My only heartache tonight comes from the conversation we had with my Mother in Law tonight. I felt that we might as well tell her because she is so involved in our lives that the 'migraine' story was only going to last so long. She is aware of my struggle with depression, but she's not exactly of the generation that approves of medicating oneself for 'simply being down in the dumps'....you know the type. Well first let me give you a brief family history. My mother suffered from schizoaffective disorder - bipolar type which is NOT the same as simply having bipolar disorder. Her world was riddled with paranoid delusions and hallucinations of the most frightening forms. I couldn't have her at my wedding because she was convinced someone was coming to murder me there....you get the picture.

Hubby and I take MIL aside and quietly tell her the news. Her first reaction is this "I was just telling (insert sister-in-law's name) that I thought that's what was wrong with you...because of your mom and everything...." This of course instantly made me feel vulnerable and weak...the family has been talking about me? About my mental health? Hubby and I were both quick to explain that what I am suffering from is in no way the same thing. But I couldn't resist asking her why in the world they would be discussing my mental health? What had I done or said that gave them reason to talk about it? She informed me that because I have her watch our kids so often....she felt used....she has no life because of it....etc....She watches the kids a few evenings a week here and there, and on Saturday mornings when I work. She lives 1 mile down the road...I had no idea I was robbing her of her 'life'. I was crushed. What little relief I had gotten at the doctor's office had suddenly been stomped back down to the depths of despair...Hubby was upset about it too, and the first thing he said when we got into the car to leave was that he was sorry. She has a knack for bad timing and bad wording...and it's always always in a manner that it hurtful, even when you know she doesn't mean to hurt you. But I am very hurt. I am fighting the compulsion to write a letter and send her all my research on schizoaffective disorder...because believe you me I have TONS! I researched it to the bone before I had children, I feared I would develop it or pass it to my kids. I have come to the conclusion that most doctors do not believe that it is hereditary, unlike bipolar disorder, which is. But to be compared to the psychosis my mother suffered was devastating for me. To hear that people in my husband's family were comparing me to her made me want to vomit. They witnessed some pretty horrifying things when my mother was alive, and now I fear they are just waiting for me to loose my marbles, running around naked trying to save the world from sin, and start hallucinating.....

If I know anything at all...I know I am not psychotic! I am not her. I am not suicidal, and never have been. I don't hear voices. I don't hallucinate or have delusions of grandeur. It hurt to be compared to her in such a manner. I know the best thing to do is just let it go. But clearly I have a hard time with that...I think the 'mania' side of my disorder probably lends to that. I am anxious to meet with the psychiatrist and find out my actual diagnosis. I don't believe that I am a rapid cycling patient, but only a doctor can tell me that. Either way I am ready to take on the task of getting better. But now I hesitate to ask my husband's family to help with the children while I try to do what is necessary to get help. I don't have many other options when it comes to childcare.....I feel trapped now. I have apparently made her feel used. I was prepared to hear at some point in time how my illness may have hurt people in the last few months...just not 45 minutes after the actual diagnosis.

And for the record the shrink may disagree with this diagnosis too. This is just a preliminary diagnosis from my physician. We shall see. The good news, for now, is that I am starting to feel better. I hope the sunshine returns tomorrow.

P.S. Thank you so much for all the support. You have no idea how much it means to me!

Facing the storm

It’s nighttime, and I feel a bit closer to normal again, much like last night. Today has not been good, and I have been stricken with several panic attacks. They are scaring me. I am anxious to speak to the doctor.

There is a storm moving in and it beckoned me to step outside tonight. I could hear the thunder in the distance and the wind blowing against the house as the lightening lit up the windows. I decided to step out and sit on the porch for a while and watch before the rain settled in. As I sat listening to thick line of trees and woods nearby whoosh and roar with the winds, and the lightening brighten up the sky, I found comfort. The strong wind on my cheeks and my arms, the rumble of thunder creeping closer, and the flash of brightness blinding my eyes, seemed to be whispering to me, or perhaps shouting to me. A reminder from God that all things in nature must endure rough seas, stormy weather and darkness. It felt like a quiet embrace between my maker and I, assuring me that I will be ok. Watching the nature surrounding me shiver and bend to the will of the winds, I felt a little less alone. The outdoors seemed to be presenting me a mirror of the turmoil in my soul.

I sat there calmly, feeling better for the first time in a while, trying to envision the winds and the rain carrying my darkness away with them, praying for sunshine tomorrow.

I have a Dr. appointment in the afternoon. Hubby is going with me. We both need to hear what the doctor has to say, and I think it will do him some good to get some insight from the doc about what this is really like and help him understand. I can’t say enough about how much support he has been in the last 24 hours. He stayed home from work today…..and never once rolled his eyes or seemed irritated by the fact that I never left the bed. He sat with me some, took care of the kids, and promised me it would all be better soon…..I believe him. And I believe in me. I have survived far worse storms in my life…depression will never get the best of me.

The Crash

There was no doubt it was coming, it hit hard. Hard enough that I found myself closing the daycare for a few days and making an appointment with my Dr. I hesitate to even write this because, while my blog is somewhat anonymous....it's not really. It's not hard to do enough Google searches for my name and not come up with this at some point in time. And I have to confess that I lied to my daycare parents and said I was getting a horrible migraine. I suppose if any of the ever find this blog they will know I lied to them. But how do you explain that you are about to hit the bottom of the ocean mentally for a few days? Is there any way to say "I swear I'm not nuts and your children are completely safe with me...I'm just going to be cracked up for a few days, I am aware of the problem and have made an app. with my Dr...I'll be better in a few days..." Someone who has never had to deal with this, or have a loved one deal with this are not going to understand that. I fear instead they will think I have lost my marbles....maybe I have.

Anyway I am getting side tracked here, which is likely to happen often right now....this crash came with lots of words to be purged. I feel a bit compelled to document this particular wave of darkness. Most of the time I write nothing, no blogs, e-mails to friends, poetry...nothing, I just hide out in my darkness for a few days. Maybe I am tired of hiding. Maybe this is a manic episode.....???

This started weeks ago, with my worries about my marriage, anxiety about wanting to go back to college, kids kids and more kids, and all the other baggage I carry from my past that always seems to push this pirate ship along. A pirate ship is a good analogy for that....because it just kind of stalks you for a while before it overtakes you and the ship you are sailing on. I have been having more and more anxiety attacks lately. In fact before we even went on our vacation, I was having the vertigo symptoms and the tightening of the chest...but I didn't talk about it, here or anywhere. It's easier to ignore something if you don't acknowledge it.

Today, after having a rough day here at home yesterday, my anxiety level became overwhelming. All the noises of the kids and the energy and activity made me jumpy, nervous and dizzy. I wasn't lying when I called all the parents about a headache, my brain felt like it was going to explode just from trying to hold back this tidal wave until my work day was over. I failed. My husband came home from work early, and I have to give him some well deserved praise tonight. He can hold it together when I am loosing it. I am the one crisis in life he can handle...when he has to. He has only seen me in this particular state a few times. This is one of the worst that I can ever remember. But he takes it seriously and doesn't patronize me or guilt me into crawling out from under the covers....he rubs my back and tries to get me to eat and fields all my phone calls to my friends. Some know and some don't...and he's fine with telling the ones who know that I am having a rough time at the moment...not ashamed to admit his wife is cracking up. It's times like this I know why I want him by my side forever. I can bitch all I want about housework and fighting....but he really came through for me tonight.

Now the house is quiet and everyone is asleep. This is the most comfortable I have felt all day. Possibly because I am sedated. But there is something about the night time that is easier for people who are in a depressed state. I think most anyone who has suffered from depression will agree with that. We are the insomniacs glued to the infomercials at night because it's easier to be dark of mood when it's dark of night. It's easier to be cynical and shitty when the rest of the world is asleep. Sunshine and daytime noises make our skin crawl. It's the night time that you feel a bit human again. (or vampirish?? uggh...which then makes you feel crazy again). I have never had a panic attack at night that I can recall. And it's a welcome relief right now that it is finally nighttime, now I just fear tomorrows episode of "Freaked Out Farm Lady".

This is the strangest episode I have had since right after my mom passed away. After her death I somehow stopped crying. I cried for weeks and then they were gone. Tears didn't come, even at times that were appropriate. But for some reason today, much like I was after her death, I am a basket case of tears. I know now that I was also experiencing panic attacks at that time, but had not yet been diagnosed. For the first time since that happened I am suddenly very depressed while also experiencing these attacks. They usually don't coincide for me. Perhaps I am having a nervous breakdown....I have finally lost it.

While I know that rationally that is not what is happening to me, there is that panic creeping up. That long long fear that I have had of going insane like my mother. My Dr. has tried to reassure me time and time again that there is no way I suffer from her disorder...but I think anytime I feel a little off kilter, or fall into a depressed state I fear that this if finally the big one, as if there is going to be some spontaneous combustion in my brain that will create the same monsters in my head that she suffered.

I mentioned that the tears were flowing tonight. They are falling like raindrops from a hurricane. My eyes hurt and burn right now. I keep trying to hide them from the kids, and then crying even harder when I am alone because I feel guilty that they have a fucked up Mom right now. I am the mother who is there 24/7 providing full attention, and suddenly I am a mess. My head is spinning and I can't think because I am having a panic attack, or I am laying in bed staring at nothing, trying to fake a smile make eye contact with them when they walk in...(they think I have a headache too...they are too young to deal with the real illness, IMO) So then when they leave I cry into my pillow even harder because it hurts to muster up the strength to fake it and it hurts that my kids have to know this as a reality in their life. Their Mom suffers from clinical depression...maybe bipolar, we shall see...and that will forever be a fact in their lives. I hope that by being pro-active in my health care and curbing a crisis like this one ASAP I can prevent them from having to see what I saw growing up...seeing a few tears on Mommy's face is a far cry from some of the shit I saw, heard and witnessed.

Anxiety is creeping up on me pretty bad as I write this one last little bit. If I am diagnosed as bipolar, am I going to loose my day care license? Great...one more thing to freak out about. Gotta go cry now.....

I should have kept the July 8th appointment, I know some of you are thinking that too...we saw this coming....next time I will go with my gut.

Watching the Tide

It's like watching a tidal wave race toward the shore and your feet are stuck in the sand...heavy, like a concrete blocks. You want to run away from it, find shelter and safety, but all you can do is stand there and wait, knowing it's going to hit, and hurt, and swallow you. The best you can do is try to remember to hold your nose and not to panic.

That's what depression feels like for me. Sometimes I don't see it coming, it just hits like a speeding car into a brick wall...but other times, like right now, the storm brews and the winds increase and I can see the waves getting higher and higher until suddenly that huge, disastrous wave comes barrelling towards me. I am about to be hit. Hard. Depression is rearing it's ugly head to me and I am bracing for the assault. I can feel my defenses gearing up, my emotions retreating and pulling away, the walls going up to try and protect myself in some ridiculously desperate way. Tears well up, and I suck them back, refusing to be weak and let them go. Knowing this does more harm than good...but it has been my defense mechanism since I was a child.

Oddly enough a book put me over the edge. I have been struggling for months with issues I have discussed here, and some I never discuss with anyone...but I bought The Heroin Diaries by Nikki Sixx after listening to his band rock out in St. Louis a week ago. Reading his struggle with depression and addiction and the anger and abandonment he felt from his childhood seemed to stir up some really really dark things inside me. Things I hate to face. Things I refuse to acknowledge. Things I think I pretend didn't really happen to me.

I have always felt that good literature stirs up your emotions, gets you out of your comfort zone...I never expected to put this rock and roll diary in that category...but I am a mess at the moment. White Oleander did this to me as well....forced me to deal with some shit I've swallowed down and tucked away somewhere deep in my soul. Common sense would tell me that I need therapy to learn to deal with my past, perhaps the waves of depression would subside a bit....but then there is my brain telling me I can't deal with it and can't dredge it all up again. I fear that doing that would end my sanity. For good. Maybe I am insane, who fucking knows.....

I'll be back when I am feeling better...or if I feel worse...who knows. Sometimes writing helps. Sometimes there are no words. But the crash is coming, I can feel it. This will be a bad week.

Heartsick and Happy

Well here's the cake in it's final glory....it has been hacked into and digested now...lovely thought huh? The 'wedding' was beautiful as my grandparents renewed their vows. The minister commented that when talking to them and their family he discovered the amazing fact that they have never been cross with one another or ever wanted to spend time away from each other. When he asked "How can this be....after 55 years together?"

Their answers were simple. Grandpa said that her happiness was all that ever mattered to him. She was the woman of his dreams. Grandma said that she never lacked for anything with him, she was always content. He made sure she was happy and taken care of, and in turn she did the same thing for him. 55 years of that. They cried through the whole ceremony and still looked like teenagers in love.

It made me proud and heartsick at the same time. Proud to be an honorary member of a family that was created out of so much love. Sick, that I may be destined to a life of anger and loneliness within my own marriage. Another weekend spent distant and fighting.....I can tell he is going to resist, but if we are going to make it, it's going to require professional help. I am looking into that today. He was all for it when he thought I might be giving up...but he's been mum on the subject since then. Sometimes I don't know if I have it in me to put forth the effort it's going to require. But my children are my life, and it's worth it for their sake, so I have to muster the strength somehow. And I know he loves me, he says I am his life and his world and he can't live without me...but somehow those words only appear at the most desperate of times. They were nowhere to be found when I was busting my ass cleaning house yesterday and trying to deal with the children while he sat on his butt for 12 hours watching TV. It was one of those nights that I found myself fantasizing about the frying pan and his head....LOL! Ok not really, but becoming a screaming raving lunatic sure loooked like a real possibility. I wish I had some magic answer....

The Proposal

Ok I know I am blogging like an obsessed freak lately...but I just have to write this down somewhere. My son River and his little girlfriend "M" (he is 4, she is 3) were playing while I had the radio on, finishing up the last of the cake and snack dishes. All of the sudden some booty shaking song comes on this conversation occurs:

M says "Let's Go Dance!"
River says "Yeah!!"
M says "Hey...Let's Get MARRIED!!"
Rivers says "Okay!!!"
Then he holds up one finger as to say 'wait a minute' and says:

"Ok we'll get married...but I gotta go poop first!" and runs to the bathroom.

The romantic genes must run in the family! He's just like his dad...always a smooth talker! LMAO!

The Diary of a Wedding Cake

Anybody want to volunteer to clean this up?????

Ok, fine...I'll do it! Or should I say I already did it cause I knew you slackers out there in blogland weren't gonna show up to help! Aaahhh... The cake is done...the above pic is the aftermath...uggghh...and I didn't even show you the floor!!!

Making cakes is therapeutic for me. I don't know why. It's kind of like having sex...it's hard work, but enjoyable...you get lost in the process and forget to eat or drink...you tune out distractions the best you can, crank up some music and just go for it! Yup...kind of like sex....or the kind of sex I had when I was young and lusty! LOL!

So anyhoo I thought perhaps some of ya'll might find it interesting to see the actual process. The cake I made today is a very simple understated cake, and I have made ones identical to this before so it wasn't really a challenge, but I still enjoyed it. Of course you start out with about 15 pounds of flour, sugar, buttermilk, shortening, and all those other heart disease causing ingredients to come up with this:

I personally prefer to trim all the 'crust' off because I don't think white cake with white frosting looks very elegant with that brown layer in between...but that's just me...I'm picky...Then you take some more shortening and sugar and make buttercream frosting that you coat your cakes with. This step was a near disaster as the top cake almost fell apart! You can see from the pic that a corner is about to fall off, cutting the crust off actually causes this to happen a lot,.... but have no fear....I am a professional! LOL! Or something like that...

Then comes the fondant. Being the perfectionist that I am, I refuse to make a cake people won't eat....and store bought fondant is horrible. It's the rubbery stuff you always peel off of a cake to get to the buttercream underneath. It is smooth and gorgeous, but the stuff in the box just tastes like shit...sorry but it does. So I make it from scratch. More tedious? Yes! Worth it? Yes! It starts out as a big glob of melted marshmallow goo:Then you mix it like bread dough with tons of powdered sugar until you get this:

Then you work fast, rolling it out like a thick pie crust to your desired shape then drape it gently over the butter cream...creating this:Smooth it out, trim it, and shine it up, then put the finishing touches on to create this:My refrigerator is full of fresh red and white flowers to top and accent this tomorrow, but for now this is what we have. I left out a few construction details, but that is the basics of cake making. It is a favorite hobby of mine. If I lived in a city where I could actually succeed as a baker...I would have my own little shop on the corner...then I would have an adjoining bookstore and coffee house...then my own publishing company where I could publish myself and other aspiring writers...and on and on until I owned the whole block. We'll call it "Lola's Leisure Lot"

But alas I am stuck out here in BFE where you really can't make a living being artsy fartsy...yes I could sell the occasional wedding cake, and I may do that when the boys are bigger, but I have bigger dreams than being known as the cake lady.

Soapbox Momma

First of all I have to give thanks to the rain fairies for finally getting us wet around here. The corn was starting to roll up faster than a doobie at a Grateful Dead concert! And to be quite honest, Mama was getting a bit lazy about watering her humongous flower gardens...whose bright idea was that anyway? So YAY! Rain!! On the downside, I am stuck in the house with all the kids today! But I'll only have 5 today...hopefully we can salvage some of my sanity today so I can decorate the wedding cake. I will post pics tonight!

**Slowly and dramatically stepping onto my soapbox...straightening up my nightgown and smiling...remembering I forgot to brush my teeth**

Why in the hell would you let 31 days go by without calling the police if your 3 year old daughter was missing?? I am following this news tory every day and get angrier and angrier. I can not for the life of me, begin to understand how you allow something like this to happen. My child would not be missing 31 minutes (ok 31 seconds, who am I kidding...I'd freak) before I called the police. And I would be on the phone with the police 24/7 until my child was found! I would be that annoying mother who camps out on the lawn of the police department.....I'd find a way to call the Governor, the President, and maybe even the Prime Minister of England! My face would be in front of every national news camera for every single broadcast!! I would be screaming from every street corner in America that my child is missing and I need help! I would die without knowing my child was safe!!! WTF is wrong with these people? What do you do for 31 days while you know your child is missing? My opinion...drugs! Or perhaps psychotic! If the mother didn't kill this child herself, my money is on drugs. And I am speaking from experience. There was a time in my life when I didn't give a rats ass about the details of my life either. The fog is so heavy over your brain that it might not even occur to you that 31 days has passed, and you might be so f'd up that it doesn't occur to you to panic about the situation. I am not talking about Stoner Sally here...I'm talking hard drugs. This girl is/was messed up on something and her family is protecting her. The mom had originally called 911 to have her daughter arrested for stealing money and a car....this sounds like the act of a desperate addict, don't ya think? The story is that the babysitter took her.....hmmm, while not exactly the smartest thing to do, maybe the babysitter was protecting this child from a psychotic addicted mother! But I think we all know this story is bullshit. This child is gone. Somebody knows why. These people need to step up and tell the truth. What kind of world do we live in?

This poor child. I fear she will not be found alive. I pray that she does.

Disturbingly Profound? Maybe just Disturbing?

Ok I am killing some time while I wait for Mrs. Ambien to seduce Mr. Sandman and get it on inside my brain...found this surfing the web...thought it was interesting. The quiz was this "Are you profoundly disturbed or disturbingly profound?" I was just sure I would be disturbed! LOL! Turns out:

You Are Disturbingly Profound

You're contemplative, thoughtful, and very intense. Taking time to figure out the meaning of life is a priority for you. Because you're so introspective, you often react in ways that surprise people. No one can really understand how you are on the inside... and that disturbs them.

Are You Disturbingly Profound or Profoundly Disturbing?

Hmmmm....they are sure right about that last sentence! Ask anyone close to me...

Formely Known As...

Hello, my name is Lolita, Lola or something equally as exotic and sexy. I used to go by a different name, perhaps you remember me? My face probably looks a bit familiar...perhaps a shower and some make-up has transformed me into someone you almost don't recognize. "Have we met somewhere before?" you ask. Yes, of course we have. The last time you saw me I was sporting flour on my nose rather than this glamorous coat of hollywood sparkle, my fingernails were broken, with Amy Winehouse hair, my legs needed shaved, there was Crisco between my fingers, my toenail polish chipped and my perfume was an enticing blend of sugar, vanilla and baby slobber. Sounding familiar? Yes, that's right. It's me. Mommy. Or rather the artist formerly known as Mommy. I was going to change my name to this "~" but I couldn't pronounce it.

What posessed me to change my name you ask? Hearing "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" 50 freakin' thousand times a day.... and it's spoken like some diatribe...some punishment for being present. Rarely is it spoken with love or tenderness, but rather a shrill, shreaking, urgent, demand!! It doesn't stop until you drop everything and respond, with full attention, verbal and visual. So I have decided to change my name. Today I will only answer to Lola...and I'm going to try and get the Crisco cleaned up.

Ha! Anyone who has ever called my house knows exactly what I am talking about....there is a reason my friends only seem to be able to keep up with me here...online...pathetic. Do I ever blog about good days anymore??? Maybe I am the one who is pathetic!!

The Fairy Tale Lies We Believe....

It's wedding cake time again. Another little side job I have that I love love love...except when there are 7 kids in the the house. I usually close the daycare and get a sitter for my own kids when I tackle a cake, but this one is small and simple, so I figured I could handle it.....ha, what an idiot!

The cake is actually for a ceremony to renew my Grandparents wedding vows. They have been married 55 years. They are not my biological grandparents, but they took me in as a teen and taught me what a real family should be. I still live close to them and they are very much a part of my and my children's lives. They are the perfect example of what real, true and lasting love is all about. I know few people who have a love like theirs, including myself. Their's is a fairy tale that seems impossible to believe. It's one of those loves that is still so visible and electric, even after all these years. Their smiles and looks and affection for each other betrays their continuing passion. After 55 years.....it's truly amazing to me. So as a celebration for their anniversary we all decided to throw them a wedding! They laughed and cheered and thought it was a grand idea. So today my house smells like wedding cake....yum.

Hubby and I have a conflict regarding this ceremony. One of his friends is getting married on the same day. So we decided that he would go to his buddy's wedding, I would go to Grandma and Grandpa's with the kids then meet up with him at the buddy's reception later. For the last few days he has been growly and distant...even after my attempts at a nice meal last night - which we sat through silently....finally he says to me last night that "you've been mad ever since I told you I was going to *buddy's* wedding instead of your Grandma's"....folks I swear it didn't bother me one bit. I thought it was the perfect solution, this way we are representing our family at both events....I was fine with it.....but he assumed I was going to be mad about it...so he projected that assumption on me as if it were a fact. Didn't we just go through this with the "job change discussion"???? I am so tired of being accused of having feelings I don't have....tired of him assuming I feel something, so it must be true....don't ask me how I feel, just assume I am silently hating you for it. Nice.....

Then there is that which you desire most....

Robert Frost so wisely wrote "Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired"....were truer words ever spoken regarding love and lovers?

Madame de Stael wrote in her famous letters "The desire of the man is for the woman, the desire of the woman is for the desire of the man"

Why are women so complicated? And furthermore, why didn't God give men the tools to crack our complicated codes? Sometimes it feels like the man I share my life with could care less to even look for the tool box anymore, and sometimes I feel like perhaps I am too complicated for him, or anyone else for that matter, to bother.

Do you think men like Robert Frost, who seemed to understand the depths of the human soul with those 9 simple words, sat on his butt watching TV all day on Sundays? LOL!

But then again this is also the man who wrote "It's funny thing that when a man has nothing on earth to worry about, he goes off and gets married." Maybe they are too busy 'worrying' about us to desire us....

Tonight I made home made lasagna, garlic bread and pie, everyone knows that's the way to make a man happy right.....still scowls and growls all over the house...I wasn't looking for romance, maybe just a smile....I need a sabbatical....a sabbatical in Tahiti!!

Psycho Mommy Dysphoric Disorder

Yup....I think I have found the problem to all my problems...for this week anyway! I have noticed the older I get, the worse my PMS symptoms get. Gone are the cramps and bloating of my youth...ok I'm lying they are still there...they are just over shadowed by my psycho acid tripping freaked out mental status!! In the past few days I have hurt someone I care deeply about by blowing them off....found my self screaming back at my children as they are screaming at me (ok, maybe that's not as rare of an occurrence as I'd like to think it is)...I've been hypersensitive, annoyingly analytical, irritable and just down right shitty! Even despite a kick ass rock show....

Guess who showed up today...of course while I am in a movie theatre with six children seeing a free matinee of the worst kids movie ever made...you, you guessed it, mother nature! (Sorry boys...I know this blog really isn't your cup of tea, but next time your wife is acting psycho...go away, she's getting ready to start...and if you bring it up to her, try to be sensitive about it or try to comfort her, she is just going to whack you over the head with a skillet....mark my words just go away....golf sounds good right?) Once again I was unprepared for this little surprise. I have got to start keeping track of my cycle. Since I am done having children and don't take the pill anymore I am always forgetting to pay attention to when it might be showing up. Part of me thinks it would be worth it to be back on the pill just to maybe curb some of these symptoms. Maybe that's the cause. Before kids I was on the pill for probably 10 years, I never had PMS trouble much. Now I seem to turn into Aileen Wuornos or something...ugggh

A friend of mine mentioned PMDD the other day...she thinks she might suffer from it...I wasn't really even sure what all the symptoms were...and I don't know that it's what my problem is...but I think Psycho Mommy Dysphoric Disorder sounds about right! LMAO But you know that's gonna be my excuse for everything now...

Goodbye City

A sense of loss
For something never mine
An emptyness somewhere
A longing that could never fulfill

Promises that were never made,
Scenes that were never played.

And yet....I miss.

Miss the idea of what could have been.
That which would have hurt,
Pain beyond compare,
Left my heart beyond repair,
Send my mind into despair,
I only did what I deemed fair.

Now you're gone.
Gone of my own choosing.
Gone from my grasp.
I quit before loosing.

I will always wonder what could have been....

Calling all my international readers!!!

Ok folks, if you read my blog and you are not from the United States, I need a favor. I have decided to start a little project with my day care kids. We want to have an "International Foods Week" before school starts. I am looking for some traditional recipes for meals and snacks that kids enjoy from all over the world. I know I have readers from Australia, England and the Middle East and other places I have never heard of LOL and I know I have American readers who could probably pass along some of their favorite international recipes too...I would consider it a huge favor if you could post a comment to this blog with some food and recipe ideas for us to consider! Any foods that you feel are native or traditional in your region, especially something that we would not normally fix in the U.S. The only catch is, I need to be able to find the ingredients here, or at least have some substitute ideas.

If you recipes come with any stories or background information I would love that too....it would bring a lot more meaning to the kids if they knew the history of the dish - right before they go "Eeeeewww are we really gonna eat that?!" LOL ~ I can already hear it now, but I think this will be a fun educational activity. Plus I love to cook....don't hesitate to send recipes that might require some effort, I am not afraid of my kitchen, it is where I am most at home! Bring on the recipes!!

If I had anything to offer as a prize for the best submissions I would...but I don't....unless you want some fresh garden tomatoes and sweet corn! LOL!

Dirty Boys

For those of you who are too lazy to keep scrolling you can read my review of Crue Fest 2008 here.

This blog is strictly for the ladies! LOL!! Those of us suburban housewives and farm mommies who have that secret fantasy to be devoured by sweaty, tattoo covered rocker....Count me in!

It all started in 6th grade with Duff McKagan. When Guns N' Roses hit the scene all the girls went gaga for Axyl Rose....not me....I was nutso over the quiet, dirty, skinny bass player

In 1994 his pancreas exploded, yup exploded, nearly killing him, and his liver was failing. The doctors told him he had a month to live if he continued down that road. He had to get clean or die.

We had the chance to see Velvet Revolver in 2005 and girls, I am not joking a bit...that man is like a fine wine....this is what he looks like now:Having kicked his alcohol and herion habit by adopting a very strict martial arts routine and zen lifestyle he was only about 20 feet from me in all his sweaty glory!!!! I told my husband I wanted to run on stage and just lick a little sweat off his chest!!! (Yes, hubby found this hilarious....he knows me well....LOL)

Developing a love for hard rock/heavy metal thanks to the debut of Guns N' Roses, I quickly discovered scores of other 'hair metal' bands I had been missing out on. (Hey a 12 year old girl from BFE with only 1 college radio station to hear rock music on, lives a sheltered life...) Along came Motley Crue. Of course they had been out for almost 10 years by the time I discovered them but whoooo boy! While all the ladies love Tommy Lee...this one included...I was once again drawn to the quiet bass player....with the heroin addiction....I am seeing a theme now that I look back...hmmm

Of course I couldn't go for the guys who just liked to sling booze and chase girls....nooooo....I was crushing on the guy who had literally died of a heroin overdose and somehow survived, only to be released from the hospital to go shoot up again....he woke up with a needle in his arm the next day...in my mind, clearly this guy was kept alive for a reason. Today he is clean and championing the cause for addicts. He published The Heroin Diaries and formed a band to create an accompanying soundtrack. He is, after all, a songwriter first and foremost, and no autobiography of him would be complete without music. They called themselves Sixx A.M. Not expecting radio play or recognition, that's not what this project was about....but as fate would have it, they are hugely successful, with the message and the music touching thousands upon thousands of fans who have struggled with some sort of addiction, disease or disaster in their lives. He used to be an object of my desires....ok he still might be...but today he is one of my heroes!

Oh and then there's Buckcherry's Josh.....Josh Todd.....mmmm my Lord. Maybe it's the tattoos. Maybe it's the Mick Jagger Swagger...maybe it's the razor sharp voice...maybe it's the adorable pictures of this tatted up rocker with his beautiful children...but once again I have a school girl crush on a dirty sweaty rock star!!

And he rocked my world Sunday night in St. Louis!!! I am still in pain.....it's hell getting old!

St. Louis Crue Fest 2008 Review

We had a fabulous time and I will tell you all about it in another post, this blog is intended to be my review of the actual concert, Crue Fest 2008, only the first of what I hope to see as a continuing summer festival.

We arrived shorty before the first band was scheduled to hit the stage at 5 p.m. I was very surprised to find only one fan attraction outside the seating area, the Guitar World contest, where mucisians battle each other through the power of technology. The last time we came to see Motley Crue, during the Carnival of Sins, tour, there were parties, live radio feeds, chances to win front row seats and backstage passes, and even a guitar autographed by Mick Marrs and Nikki Sixx. I expected similar activities, especially at a concert with 5 bands playing in a summer festival type tour...but nothing. Just beer and food...so we ate and drank.

My disappointment in the lack of mayhem ensuing in the vending area was soon swept away by a nice cold $10 beer and the sounds of the first band taking the stage. I am not going to lie, I didn't expect to be impressed. I knew one song this band sang, it's a great song, but other than that I was clueless as to their style or talent. Can I just say when Trapt hit the stage I was absolutely blown away by the power in this boy's voice. I have since done some research to find out his name is Chris Brown. Watch this band. Any rock radio station worth their salt is going to be spinning their tunes sooner rather than later. I was incredibly impressed. Their style of music captured my attention from the first song...striking, strong and full of a beat and rhythm you found your body moving to, even when you were trying to limit movement in your spot on the grass under 95 degree blaring sunshine....I was sad to see them finish their set!

The masses began to pour in as we all awaited for Sixx A.m. to take the stage at sixx p.m. (har har I'm so funny...) Any real Crue fan worth their salt was there to support our favorite bass player Nikki Sixx in his side project, which has turned out to be a wildly popular success with their first album. It was easy to spot who the real Motley Crue fans were in the crowd from the moment they hit the stage. Curious rock fans, and people looking for a fun way to kill a Sunday night were clueless as to the significance of the this performance. Crue fans were on our fucking feet! Jumping dancing, screaming our heads off....yes, once again in the blaring sun, sweating out our beer as fast as we could drink it. They rocked the house with a flawless set that included a wide sampling of their musical talents.....for the second time of the night I was sad to see a band leave the stage.

Now I've got to be honest with you once again, I am not as familiar with Papa Roach as some of the younger kids in the crowd. I recognized their radio hits instantly, but much of their music was new to me. I fully expected to take a bit of rest and rehydrate with more alcohol and a bit of water after dancing and screaming in the hot sun for 2 hours already. I knew I would enjoy their set, but I figured I would enjoy it from the comfort of my itchy, grassy, sweaty butt. Folks let me tell ya, every time they broke into song I was on my feet. They just made it impossible to sit still!! They were fabulous. I found them to be an extremely energetic band that knew how to play to the crowd and work us into a frothing frenzy by the end of their set. So much for resting!! The heat was starting to subside a bit, but we actually saw a woman hauled out to an ambulance, presumably from heat exhaustion....wouldn't that suck, to pay to see 5 bands and pass out in the middle of band #3....anyhoo

Finally it was time for Buckcherry. Clearly several fans were in the audience with the primary goal of seeing them, with Motley Crue simply being a novelty act and the previous bands being a bonus to seeing the latest and greatest rock band to hit the air waves in recent years. Personally I was anxiously awaiting their performance myself. I have a not-so-secret crush on Josh Todd (I am convinced his tattoos would be candy flavored if I licked them all ;0), and the band itself plays some kick ass rocking grooves. If you call yourself a rock and roll fan, and find yourself able to sit still through a Buckcherry song....well...you ain't very rock and roll. They rocked the house and made the girls swoon (this one too....) and the crowd was wild for them! Josh's vocals were outstanding and the music was flawless. They ripped us all to shreds with "Cocaine"...I thought I was going to have a heart attack...but I just couldn't stop moving! LOL! "Sorry" was beautiful and hubby and I even got a little mushy....but I have to shamelessly admit to you that I couldn't fight mother nature any longer and had to make a trip to the bathroom before their closing song "Crazy Bitch" was over.....ughhh...I was the only girl in the bathroom of course...no rock chick would leave for that song, except an aging mother of two who had guzzled about 4 liters of beer...but it was that or water the lawn ( a thought which crossed my mind). Since it was the closing song they dragged it out for a looooooong looooooong time, so I had gotten to shake my ass, to my heart's content before the urge to pee was overwhelming....but clearly I am getting old...LOL!

Up until this point I was amazed that every single band who took the stage gave such stellar perfomances! I had gotten more than my money's worth so far getting to see Motley Crue again would just be the icing on the cake.

As an official Crue Slut (the proper term for a female Crue fan....men being Crue Heads of course) it feels sort of sacrilegious to give them a bad review. But strictly from the view of a chick who has seen these guys rock the fuckin' house down...this was not their best performance. Not that we didn't have fun...we had a blast!!! OMG I hurt so bad today it's not funny. We have the obligatory headbangers whiplash, and my body feels like it was run over by one of the tour buses. Entertainment wise, the show rocked. Performance wise....well...Vince was clearly struggling. The last time we saw the Crue I was impressed with his stamina and it was clear he had worked very hard preparing for thst tour (Carnival of Sins) and kept his voice in shape. Last night he had a hard time singing complete verses and missed a lot of words and he let the crowd do a lot of the singing for him. Not that we cared. Who am I to judge really...I was so out of breath I couldn't sing along to it all either...hard as I tried. He is only human after all. I still came away from the show feeling like I had been dragged from one end of a rodeo to another by a barrel horse, so it was good times!!!

Nikki and Tommy were tearing it up as usual, the Terror Twins forever and always (ok maybe only a small shadow of the wild kids they used to be, but then again, so am I ...with Tommy rallying the crowd against the local government for banning the traditional Motley "Titty Cam", where Tommy spans the crowd for the most beautiful (and some down right frightening) bare breasts....we've seen many many a booby on the big screen, but not last night....much to the "BOOOOOOOO" of the crowd! LOL!

Hubby and I both found our heart aching for Mick Mars, who was clearly struggling by the end of the show with pain. He looked much more stooped and slumped since the last time we saw him and he shuffled slowly to his favorite little spot. However, when that frail aging man picks up his guitar he slays the crowd every single time!!! He is one of the true Guitar Hero's and gets very little recognition for it. His style is undeniable with that familiar, heavy, tuned down sound. Supposedly he tunes his guitar to "D'" rather than the standard "E" which lends that deep strong sound. I stood in awe watching him on the monitor as the cameras captured his solo performances. After the show he was moving very slowly and holding his hip, in obvious agony as they took their bow and he quietly exited the stage in his stacked heel boots, which hide his more than 6" shrinkage since he was first diagnosed with ankylosing spondylitis. He can't move his head from side to side and his body is hunched and slumped over so far you want to just hug him....but the man keeps rockin' the house night after night. I can't imagine how much pain he is in, and clearly he is either needing his other hip replaced, or his hip replacement is failing him. I was nearly moved to tears watching him quietly take his exit while the other boys stood with their hands raised, soaking in the cheers and screams from the crowd, filling their egos and basking in the glory. Mick silently shuffled out, head hanging low, unable to move much except for those golden fingers that never fail to get my adrenaline pumping!!

Hang in there Mick!!! We love you!!

Stay tuned for soon to be written blogs about our experience at the show. I have so much to say, I might end up driving you nuts....LOL! Up next is my obsession with dirty boys, particularly Nikki Sixx and Josh Todd....mmmmm don't miss it girls! LMAO!!! Until then I am going to go take my third dose of Ibuprofen for the day, go to bed and pray that tomorrow I can actually move my body a bit better than today.....

That which you most despise...

Websters Dictionary's second definition for the word needy is as follows:

2. needing affection: feeling or showing a strong need for affection, love, or other emotional support

Ask anyone who knows me well and they will tell you that I am one of those girls who has always been far from this definition. Often described as stubborn, strong willed, independent and dare I even say a hard ass (no, not my actual ass, which is far from hard, unfortunately...but emotionally). My husband would probably tell you his biggest frustration about me is that I am too independent. Yet most of the people in my life rely on that independence. I am the girl you can count on to make decisions, come up with solutions and figure a way out of just about any predicament I have ever found myself in. The environment I grew up in forced me to be this way. I have been making many household decisions since I was a small child. I was the one on the phone telling the electric company to please keep the power on for three more days until my mom got paid, because I was only 10 and with no power there would be no way for me to cook something for me to eat. My mom relied on me to be this person. She was incredibly timid and needy. I was the opposite. Strong and stubborn from the very beginning. She often made the comment "I wish I could be like you".....being raised by a single mother, who wasn't always mentally stable and able to assert herself, helped mold me into this person, but I also think some of it is just part of who I am. Independent to a fault.

Lately it is occurring to me that I am needy in some areas of my life. Not that this is a character flaw by any means. In fact it is a normal human condition. One in which I have forced myself to deny for many many years. Weakness is something I have always frowned on, and often find myself having very little patience for people who are needy. Those people who cling, and need your attention and reassurance all the time. I have turned my back on friendships for such things. A hard ass... A bitch maybe.

Perhaps it's age. Motherhood. Martial woes. Childhood recollections. Loneliness. Emptiness. Whatever the reason, I find myself developing a character trait that I have always viewed as undesirable. I don't like it. I don't like needing people. I can take care of myself....hell or high water. I don't need anyone else's approval or acceptance. Where does my sudden need come from? How did I get here?

I know this makes no sense to most of you....I think this is a purge for myself, and a few select people in my life. But it needed to be put into words, so I put it here. The place where I seem to be most comfortable baring my soul these days.

Escape Route

Well at least it's Friday and that's all I have to say about that. My daycare kids have been here for almost 3 hours and I am already feeling the anxiety creeping up. We are escaping to the city pool....in reality I don't know what's crazier watching 6 children in my home (1 is out today) or taking 6 children to a crowded noisy pool, at my own expense, with gas at $4.10 a gallon, and $2 a head to get into the pool...but I 'll take my chances! LOL! I need an escape, and even if it's only to feel hot sun on my face and cool water on my toes, I'll take it! Plus it's good bribery material for the morning....misbehave = NO POOL....it's not working real well so far! I think they know Miss Jada has lost her marbles and we will be going to the pool regardless....I think I lost this war a long time ago!

So speaking of escapes....yesterday on my way to our play date I cranked up the radio to drown out my screaming toddlers (yes, I do that) and the Rolling Stones were quickly filling up the empty spaces in the car. It was heavenly! I mean lets be honest, does anything lift you out of a fog better than a hot rockin' song?! I have a huge affection for the Stones, they were one of the best acts I have ever seen live. No shit! Watching a quintet of geriatric rockers never miss a lick to the sexiest music on the planet was by far one of the highlights of my life. The night started with Keith Richards, in all his pickled, wrinkled glory standing in a leopard skin coat, cigarette hanging from his lips, ripping up the opening cords to "Satisfaction". We went wild! Even from our nose bleed seats we were screaming like teenage girls....oh wait, I was a teenage girl, 19 in fact...or was I 20?...sorry ADD....and singing at top of our lungs.

Now it seems Ronnie Wood is once again in rehab. I see on TMZ this morning that Steven Adler, former drummer for one of the greatest rock bands that couldn't go the distance - Guns N' Roses - was arrested last night for drugs, one of my all time favorite singers, Scott Weiland is struggling desperately again....the list goes on and on. I think I may have blogged about this before, but it just goes to show that the price of art, creativity, and fame is sometimes not worth the toll it takes on the artist. Famous poets also seem to leave a trail of tears behind them. So many of the greats having given themselves their own dramatic and tragic exit from life. Maybe not being a famous poet isn't a bad thing.

Hubby and I are going to see Motley Crue Sunday night in St. Louis, Cruefest actually, an Ozzfest like event with several bands starting late afternoon, and I am always amazed, every time we see the Crue (yes we are groupies) that those men are still alive, standing before us, full of life and talent and bravado.....they could all so easily be dead. They have all paid a heavy price for their fame in the form of addictions...short of Mick Marrs, who bless his aging heart has suffered tremendous physical illness instead. Yet they soldier on, rockin' their hearts out for us and putting on a fantastic show every single time we see them.

Hopefully we don't come back from this concert with a bun in the oven...LOL....we did last time! Thank God for vasectomies....oh, sorry that was uncalled for. There's just something about sex drugs and rock and roll that just makes ya want to...well you know! LMAO!

I have to confess, Hubby is looking forward to this trip so much, and part of me is dreading it. He can't wait to have some time alone for us to just be "US"...I fear we aren't "US" anymore...we shall see. What if we have nothing to say to each other once we actually have time to say something. I guess that's why God invented beer...which we will be drinking by the gallon at the concert...ok, that's not funny either is it? But true. :0)~ We booked a hotel within walking distance...no DD here, we are gonna party baby! I am definitely ready for THAT!

Little Girls Lost...and Found

I had the wonderful opportunity to reconnect with an old friend tonight! After having one of those days when you literally want to crawl in a corner, put your hands over your ears and rock back and forth like a self soothing toddler...it was refreshing. I won't lie, I didn't even want to go. I wanted to visit with her, but my day was so bad today that the thought of loading up the kids and traveling to town just seemed like a 50 mile hike...but I did it. And I am so glad!

It is my opinion that few people really know you. The real you. There are few people who know what you have grown up with. The joys, the struggles, the dramas and the nightmares. Even rare are people who went through it with you, with similar struggles and life experiences. I have a few people like this in my life, not many. The Mommy I got to meet up with tonight is one of them. We were joined at the hip from the time we were toddlers until our pre-teens. As close as sisters we played, fought, shared secrets, and watched each other suffer some similar heart aches in our childhoods. We have both grown into wives and mothers (dare I say Smokin' Hot Mamas! LOL) and have come through the other side of our darker childhood dramas fairly healthy and level headed. I'd say we both did a pretty damn good, considering the things we have been through.

It's so easy to be with someone like her. Someone who truly knows you. Maybe not the current events in your life...but the core of you. Someone who shares memories of you being the buck toothed girl learning to ride a bike, or the boy crazy girl kissing the posters on her wall. It's so easy to just be.....just be....not have to put up a front, or hide your flaws, or feel like you need to make some sort of impression. The impressions we have of each other were formed long long ago when we were inseparable little girls, with single moms, no dads, crazy grandmas and plenty of attitude! :0)~

A reconnection with a kindred spirit is always a blessing. I am blessed.

And since I know you are reading this...I love ya girl!!

Calgon Take Me Away

It's a padded room kind of day again today....my kids have been screaming at the top of their lungs today. Daddy is out of town and it's starting to take it's toll. I am supposed to go on a play date tonight, that I am sooooo looking forward to it, but thinking I'd rather throw my kids in bed at 7 pm with a double dose of Benadryl and soak in a long hot tub....oh did I just say that out loud? Sorry....

I am ready for school to start. 7 kids is clearly too much for me. Especially with no help at night this week...no break, no peace, no quiet....auuuggghhhh! I did have some quiet time as I drove to the hospital to see the Kochernut Mama last night..but other than that...ugggghhh....

Officially insane....what I wouldn't do to have my toes in the sand...drink in my hand...

Prayers Needed.

The Watermelon has sprouted! My Kochernut baby has arrived....a little girl, born last night, yet to be named. She has been flown to St. Louis with mild complications. Please keep her in your prayers. Mom is scheduled to be released tomorrow so she can join her, Dad is already there. This is not their first baby to make the long journey to St. Louis.

Baby's Been a Bad Bad Girl.....

I have done something deliciously sinful. I would say in this house it borders on infidelity. I will have to find a way to keep this a secret. It will break his heart....crush him. He may never trust me alone again. I have to tell someone....I am so ashamed

Can I trust you with my secret? You promise you won't tell? If he finds out, it won't be pretty!

Ok I have to confess to someone...I can't take it any longer. Someone needs to know....I made this yesterday....and my husband is away on business. I was supposed to make it for him before he left, but I ran out of time. And now it's ALL MINE! Bwwwahahahahahahahaahaaaaaa!

Is there really anything better in life than a fresh peach pie? Sex perhaps....perhaps...

The Watermelon Crawl

Ok Kochernut Mama....aka Watermellon with Legs! Here's your crazy famous ass at the Margarita Party!!! She thought I wouldn't post this....now she's going to kill me!

Folks this is about to be the newest addition to the Redneck Women of BFE! Baby Girl Kochernut will be joining us any minute now!!! YAY!!!!

The Medicine Show

Finally one that is not so morose....sometimes writing poetry is like travelling in the spring...the weather is unpredictable. But tonight I have been inspired. I am grateful for the flow...

The Medicine Show
Draw your bow lightly young man
Across your careful bound steel.
Strings of gold, songs of old
A reminiscent hillbilly band.

Poetry in motion.
A suggestive notion.
Toe tappin’
Foot stompin’
Hand slappin’
Work into a lather.
Pass the shine,
Spend some time,
Make a rhyme,
Make it mine,
Sing along
Rockabilly good time.

Make me cry,
Want to die,
In the arms of pretty little girl,
Harmony and infamy,
Never never see a poor man try
To chug a bottle dry
Faster then the tonic of the crow.
©J. Stark

Those who drink the tonic know what I am talking about...The Murder.

Navigating

The sands of time flow like the creek to the west of my house.
Rushing smoothly down a crooked path.
Their sounds crisp and clean
Disappearing before they can be seen.

Lost in the rapids of my mind
Searching for a paddle
To steady the stream.

Rains keep coming
The flood waters flow
Pouring out yesterday and past my today
Even faster through tomorrow.

Oh what I'd give
To float back upstream.

Barefoot and carefree
In the days of yesteryear.
Toes splashing in the trickle
Praying for the rush,
Hoping for speed.

I'd plant my feet along the shore
Let time pass no more.
Savor a golden hour
Of youthful shower.

Laughter and fears
Unfaltered by tears.

Rowing on an on
Bound for the promised land.
Sweet freedom.
Happy Independance.

Stupid Girl.
You travelled so fast.
Now you are lost.
Far from the path.

Turn your boat around.
Row with all your might.
Find yourself somewhere
Buried in the banks
Of this muddy muddy life.
©J. Stark

Harlot

Surrounded,
Guns pointed,
High Noon,
Silence.
Click, Click, Click.
Six shooters and shot guns,
Aimed at the accused.

The standoff has begun
The tumble weeds of indiscretion roll
The gain is none,
But the burning thought is blinding

Off in the distance, shining in the sun
Out of reach
Blistering brilliance in an uptown suit
Smiling in her direction.
Intoxicating and roaring,
The passion, the illusion,
Blocks out the barrels and lead.

Whispers of promise
Rise from her scarlett petticoat
The swish swish swish of her bustle,
Tells lies.

Sweet soothing lies,
From a harlot's lips.

Ride, cowboy ride
Confident in your leave.
With the promise she will be
Waiting on the eve

Of your return.

Gun her down
For in this town
A mother would frown
On a tarnished wedding gown

And the deafening sound
Of her silent screams
Will ring in your ears

On the eve of your return.
© J. Stark


Not meant to be as morbid as it sounds....it just came out of me this evening. It's been a while since any words were flowing this freely. There may be more....

Big Mouth!

Have ya ever opened up yer big fat mouth to say somethin' and the words in yer brain are not what comed out yer mouth? Surely this ain't just a redneck fay-nom-e-non.

In all seriousness, I did this today. The words in my brain, were not the words that came out my mouth, or in this case my keyboard, which is even worse because it's impossible for the other person to interpret your tone of voice or your facial expressions. I let things like this bother me far too much, but I am sensitive to other people's feelings, and I said something, or rather implied something today that I did not intend. Sometimes one's own insecurity overrides one's ability to know when to just shut the fuck up! :0)~

And to this person I am sorry.

Farm Livin' is Da Life For Me...

It seems I am not the only parent on the farm struggling to juggle a handful of kids at the moment. Our calves are growing quickly and soon will come the dreaded weaning. I am not sure why but I always feel sad about that. Weaning my own children was hard for me, perhaps I can sympathize with the cries of the Momma's as their babies are hauled off down the road....this itself creates a horrible symphony if bawling on both sides for several nights. I have never quite understood why we don't move the calves to one of the pastures that is a few miles away? They always end up across the road where they can hear Momma calling them, and Momma can hear their desperate cries. I chalk most of this up to fact the most farms are run by men who have never had to suffer from swollen milk glands! LOL!



My faithful readers might remember The calf named Nelly, who had to be renamed Willy . He has alluded my camera several times since that post, but tonight I finally captured a gorgeous shot of him. He is still adorable, and I don't know how I became so attached to this animal. I seem to search him out when the cows are near the house. He is a bit of loner and doesn't play with the other calves much. Unfortunately I will someday have to face the fact that Willy might possibly end up between a bun on my dinner plate...but for now I am choosing to be in denial about that harsh fact of farm life. I must be growing on him too....he allowed me to keep snapping pics

As the cows were making their way back to the barn at sunset, I had a flash back of our recent vacation as the lone bull in this pasture, and likely father of most of these calves, made his way back surrounded by youngsters....."Are we there yet Daddy?! Are we there yet?!" He looked right at me as I snapped this pic and for a moment we understood each other well..."Damn it I am tired and I just want to get home..."

Finally I had a nostalgic moment watching one calf get his bedtime snack. And my heart ached just a bit knowing that in a few weeks, life as he knows it is going to disappear.

Oh and I can't close this post without introducing the newest little addition to our farm. She showed up tonight, out of nowhere, seeminly very tame and perhaps even born a housecat. River named her "Sassy". She is skinny and full of cockle burs, but the boys and I are already in love.

She will be a housecat by the end of the week....I have an evil plan to bend hubby to my will...bwahahaahhaaaaa. In all seriousness, I have not had a house cat for 5 years. I lost my beloved pet Sunny then and I haven't had it in me to let another critter in my heart. But Sassy showed up today out of nowhere, full of love and affection, begging to get in our house. I think she was sent to us for a reason.....

Cheeseburger in Paradise!

I mentioned in an earlier post about the way my friends and I were raised, with a work hard/play hard mentality. Well here we are, all of us between the ages of 30-40.....and the mentality has not changed. I thought ya'll might enjoy seeing some pics of my weekend. This is how Rednecks get down....there are no night clubs in the boonies. Hire a D.J. (who happens to be your neighbor) set him up in your garage and party down!! To protect the innocent..errr guilty...I have blurred some faces of those who might not take kindly to being on my blog...

Note the guns and camouflage! LOL! It doesn't get much more redneck than this...unless of course you are down on the river, which is equally as fun!!

It was a Margarita party, and some of us got into it more than others...but we all got laid...I mean leid...I mean those flowery things you put around your neck...however you spell it! Get you mind out of the gutter! Although there was some wild dancing...good thing hubby doesn't read my blog!

This is him bumpin' uglies with the host!! LMAO! And no, I am not horrible at doing his laundry, he is drenched in sweat!

Ever notice how Rednecks all drink beer at a Margarita Party?......although I did put an umbrella in mine!

And yes, finally, here is me....I do actually exist, although I hate posting pics of myself...ugghh...clearly I was having fun! (That is a friend's hubby with me) My shirt is wet from dancing in the rain, I swear I had not spilled my drink all over myself...yet....and just don't ask how I got the beads!!

I guess we never really do outgrow our childhood do we? Although it wasn't all fun and games. A bus load full of a bachelor party stopped in (yes they were invited) full of drunk boys, including some from a rival town. Sometime I will have to blog about the turf wars around here. Rednecks get pretty viscous about their territory...and these boys have clashed since we were kids. There was a pretty big scrap and a little bit of blood, but the party raged on into the wee hours of the morning! Jimmy Buffet would be proud!

Clear Skies

Things on the homefront have been pretty bad again lately and I find myself sometimes wondering what my future is going to hold. However hubby and I had a refreshing purge/vent/scream/cry session last night that resulted in two very important decisions. We love each other. We don't want to tear our family apart. We have agreed to seek a marriage counselor to try and learn how to reconnect. We both agree that we have lost a lot of our relationship in the process of trying to raise a family. There is nothing more important to me than giving my children a functional family. If we can find our way back to one another, I am willing to do whatever it takes. I know there will always be problems and there are certain areas of our life in which we are completely incompatible....but we need to at least try our damndest....

It felt good to clear the air. I still have fears and doubts. But I feel like we have at least taken one step forward.

And since it's Sexy Time....

I have to give a shout out to the song "Down Home Girl". Recorded by the Rolling Stones in 1964, it is a twisted love song for all of us country girls out there. My favorite version is of course by Old Crow Medicine Show, which you can find on my playlist. I just gotta say I think this song is sexy as hell! If you are a country girl, or even just a country girl at heart....mmm yeah....this song is for you! It doesn't get sexier than

And everytime you move like that
I gotta get down and pray
Don't you know that dress you're wearin'
Is made out of fiberglass
And everytime you move like
that I gotta go to Sunday mass
Oh, you're so down home girl

Give the song a listen, tell me what you think.

Ok maybe I don't smell like turnip greens, and I sorta hope I don't taste like pork n' beans...but I sure am Doooownnnn Hooooommmme! :0)~

Sexy Back

Ok I am reading this article, on MSNBC.com, (my morning news of choice) about "Feeling Sexy" and that fact that it's all in the mind. Can I first of all say we must be really freakin' short on news stories if this is #3 on the list of links. Anyhoo...I expected to read an article about confidence and how those who are confident and secure in their own sexuality sort of exude their own brand of sexy....regardless of physical flaws like a few extra pounds or limited height (I mean hey, look at Tom Cruise, that boy is 5' 6" with stilettos on, with a big nose and horse teeth...but the crazy MF is dead sexy!) Personally, I was interested in this article because I am of the full figured variety of women. I prefer to think of my body as full of dangerous curves :0)~ but let's face it, when I look in the mirror what I see is the aftermath of motherhood and the lack any personal time to try and fix it. Sometimes I am perfectly fine with how I look, and other times not so much....but I digress. I clicked on this article, assuming it would be an interesting read. It's not. At all. But I did find a few sentences in here that just about made me spit my coffee out....I just had to share:

Whereas lust tends to limit its reach to particular people or stretches of time (and, like hunger, can presumably be sated via fairly standard channels), sexiness is a state of mind. It is inextricably linked to sex as a concept but wholly separate from fornication.

ROFLMAO!!!! Ok, maybe it's just because she actually used the word fornication I really don't know but that line just cracked me up. And I don't know if I agree....deep down we want to feel sexy right. We want someone else to think we are sexy...and if we are honest with ourselves, don't we have to admit that we want those people to think we are sexy so that perhaps for a split second they will think 'I wonder what a roll in the hay with her would be like?' I suppose that is what she means by sexiness being 'inextricably linked to sex as a concept'. But then how is that wholly separate from fornication (God that word cracks me up! I feel like I am at church camp). Unless perhaps there is a difference between sex and fornication for her. In which case I feel sorry for her, poor thing! I hope she at least gets to fornicate every once in a while. LMAO! Ok that was completely uncalled for! This was just the funniest article to read first thing in the morning!! Of course only I would choose the story about sex over the story about Tony Snow dying, bless his heart.

Ok I have to say in her defense I understand what she is trying to say....it just struck me as extremely hilarious. So back to 'Bringing Sexy Back'. Yes it is a state of mind. I have a girlfriend who is not super model gorgeous at all...but since we were teens she has had men falling all over themselves to be near her. This is the girl who has an entire jewelry chest full of baubles collected from various lovers through her lifetime. There is just something about her. Personally, I have always been on the very curvy side, dare I say maybe even just plain large. And I can also say I have rarely been lonely. I know girls far prettier and skinnier than me that can never find a man. But these same girls are also very insecure, with slumped shoulders and timid speech around a guy. I so badly want to teach them how to throw a little switch in their hips and smile...make eye contact!! Guys aren't as 'programmed' as we like to assume they are, only attracted to the Playboy model or the heroin chic thin waifs. I think ultimately humans are attracted to personality. Yes there is the lust factor, we girls see a hot body and think 'daaaamnnn' but then the hot guy opens his mouth and starts blabbing about how hot his car is and one is instantly tuning him out trying to find an escape route....I have heard my husband and many other men make this comment about some very attractive girls we know "Yeah, she's hot until she opens her mouth...."

Sexy ain't all about what your packin' under your skivvies....It's more about what your packin' in your brain! I like to think I am packing a lot in both places. Ha! Maybe a lot more than I'd like in some places....but you work with what ya got right?!