Monday, February 28, 2011

Living in the shadow of past relationships

Occasionally, Gentleman Jack and I will have an argument.

Depending on our cycles (because I honestly believe he has a period too), the argument could be a simple misunderstanding that leads to an intense, conversational growth experience... OR... the argument could turn into an ugly blow out.

The problem I have, when it turns into a blow out, is that we're generally casting each other as our exes instead of seeing each other as we are.

After reading Jobo's, Nicki's and Misty's posts regarding similar situations with their men, it felt good to know I wasn't alone.

It SUCKS to live in the shadow of past relationships.


Obviously, our exes are called exes for a reason, right? I mean, by this point in our lives, we've already been through at least one, if not two... possibly more. With every relationship, we've grown, we've learned and we've also, in many cases, been shat upon.

Hence the reason, again, we're no longer in those relationships.

Again, that anger, those beliefs, the pain we felt isn't really gone. It is simply buried beneath the luster of "moving on" and "being strong". Until that pain is dealt with and looked at through healthy eyes, it's bound to raise it's ugly head again.

Relieving, healing and forgiving all takes time. I get that. What should we do in the meanwhile, as the current partners, in order share feelings that may stir up such pain?


From what I know, nearly 2 years into this relationship with my Gentleman, he didn't have much in the way of positive relationships with the females in his life.

  • His mom, divorced from his father when he was just a toddler, didn't enjoy being a single mom from what I gather. He won't talk about his childhood much. It sounds like he was either with his father (and his evil step-mother) or grandparents as his mother moved away. They seem to be close now.
  • An older sister, a powerful and strong woman, with whom the relationship still seems tense.
  • His exes, each with their own stories, and neither of them a "friend" to him, according to family.

How can you be married to someone who is not your friend?

And here I stand, his best friend and lover, a confidante, and... female.

When an argument turns ugly, I often find myself adamantly denying my "female-hood" so that I won't be compared to the seemingly loveless female relationships of old. I loathe to have irrational female feelings or emotions that might stir up an "oh great, here we go again" issue from his past. I don't want to be compared with those he's left behind. I don't want him to believe that I will do the same as them.

But... I AM woman. Hear me try to stifle my roar.

I'm learning to shout louder than the din of his past and say, "I am NOT them. Look at me NOW. I am NOT the enemy. It is NOT my mission to hurt you."

Most of the time it works. Other times... it feels as if I'm beating my head against a brick wall.


I do my best to be aware of my issues. I try to avoid the pitfalls of "oh he's just being a man". I am not a man-hater. Besides, if more than one man is pointing out something in me, I cannot deny that I am the common denominator. I allow GJ to say to me, "I am not your ex." It snaps me back to reality if not instantly, then after some analysis.

I wonder if men are as cognizant of the stereotyping? Yes, it's true, we are from Venus, we will never see eye-to-eye on many things, there are some things that don't seem fair. But dare I say, can't we all just get along anyway?

The truth is, in every relationship, we have our baggage and perceptions. Each of us are fragile creatures. There is a fine line between hurting and healing. We must tread carefully, with ourselves and our partners, if we are to continue to help each other.

"Relationships serve but one purpose: healing. But that healing can turn to hurting if no one's paying attention."

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Why do I analyze?

My Gentleman asked me the question recently: "Why do you analyze everything?"

You see, he lives by the adage, "It is what it is", when something is bothering him or someone has upset him. He prides himself on being able to accept it or let it go. And his acceptance of whatever it is comes quickly after realizing he can't change things.

"But you're a fixer," he tells me.

Yes. I hate the phrase, "it is what it is".

I'm a fighter AND a fixer, I'll admit it.

There are many things I've learned to accept in life. There are many things I'm learning to allow. There are many things that I simply HAVE to let go of. However, I also believe there are many things worth fighting for or trying to fix.


People in my life compliment me because I seem to be happy much of the time. I hear how strong I am. I'm told that I handle life so well. I'm told that I always see the good in everyone.

Does no one realize how difficult that really is?

The things I fight for or try to fix are MY OWN FEARS. Honestly, if I didn't analyze, I'd probably be scared to death or angry a lot of the time. I'm extremely sensitive. I've learned to accept that.

I've also learned to accept that life is difficult and your reaction to it is the only thing you can control.


Let me take a break here to give an example of something that affects me:


From books, to music, to movies, to the news, I am very sensitive to what I see and hear. As an example, yesterday I watched 6 back-to-back episodes of the Starz series, Spartacus: Blood and Sand, because I LOVE history and ancient Rome.

**spoiler alert**
Six hours straight of blood and violence to see if Spartacus can rescue his stolen, beloved wife. At the end of episode 6, they are finally reunited. After 6 hours of pain and grief and loss, they would finally be together. Then, just as I was disappointed at the end of the movie, Revenge, their reunion falls short... as the wife perishes in her exhausted husband's arms.
**end spoiler alert**

I was yelling, "FUCK YOU!" at the TV. I'm still depressed about it. I am so easily affected by that stuff. I have to really closely monitor what I'll let into my psyche.


THIS is why I analyze. I have to figure out how to be happy in spite of the things that look less than happy. I have to figure out how to be strong. I have to figure out how to handle life. I have to figure out how to see to good in everyone.

Sometimes that's hard to do when you're a single parent, or could use more money, or are in love with someone who lives 3 hours away... or a terrorist crashes planes into towers, or children are murdered, or wives are stolen.... It's difficult to see the good in people when it appears they're acting selfishly. It's hard to be strong when there's every indication you should be crumbling.

THIS is why I analyze. I could easily learn to say "it is what it is" and accept that people are mean, life sucks, hate is everywhere. Occasionally, I'm tired and don't feel like analyzing anymore. That's when I accept what I think I'm seeing. That's when I get angry and hateful and selfish too.

Eventually, I get over it. I'll have a moment or so when all seems to be OK. No analysis needed. Nothing but pure love and acceptance that all is as it should be.

Then, something will hurt again and I have to figure out WHY it hurts or WHY life seems unfair or WHY it seems that this "thing" was done to me or someone else. And back I go, into analysis mode.

Perhaps to the outside observer, it may seem exhausting to be me. Honestly, it is. I was born into this life oversensitive and loving and have chosen to see the good while I'm here. Sometimes the world and people don't want to show their good, easily. And I feel like I have to find it... just so that I can continue to be right about it.

That is why I analyze.

Friday, February 25, 2011

What's behind Anger

"Anger is not a feeling. Anger is a reaction to a feeling, a fear, or a belief about yourself that is not true. Let go of the belief, the fear, the feeling. Then the anger is gone too."

I started out yesterday with this as my Facebook status. It's not someone else's quote. Nope, I made it up myself. From personal experience.


I've never enjoyed being yelled at. I can't imagine many people do. I've always thought I was especially sensitive to it because I was doomed as a people pleaser. It kills me to disappoint.

I have since learned that, hey, once in a while, I will disappoint someone. It's not fun to think about and it's still difficult to hear when I feel as if I'm trying to be so considerate of others. I'm able to work through it better now. I get it. I'm flawed. Really! I am!

And so are you.

The problem, with you and me, is that we don't like to THINK we're flawed. Our intentions are never to hurt (unless they are).

Or maybe I'm just talking about myself?


I think most of us want to know that we bring joy, love, comfort, happiness, smiles to those in our lives. I don't believe, when we disappoint, that the intention was to disappoint. But, fortunately and unfortunately, due to perception, anything we do or say or feel is likely to be taken completely differently by someone else.

Then you factor in past experiences and fears and pain of the "someone else" and suddenly, you look like a real ass.

And because you look like a real ass, you react to that feeling. Now you're not even listening to the person who said their feelings were hurt. Nope. Now it's all about YOU and YOUR feelings. How dare they think you're an ass?

And so on and so on and so on.

Attack begets attack begets attack...

It gets ugly in a hurry.


I've learned this stuff, again sadly, by disappointing people and by being disappointed in people. We all react to our "stuff".

So, if I'm going through life with the belief that I am a quitter, no matter how many times I try to NOT be a quitter, I will seek subconscious re-enforcement in that belief. As soon as someone even slightly hints anything to do with being a quitter, I will ERUPT in a fury at them. I will blame them. I will project the pain of that BELIEF on to the outside innocent party.

Same thing happens if I believe I'm not worthy of love.

Or that all men are cheaters.

Or that all women seek to destroy and emasculate men.

Or that everyone abandons me.

Or that I believe I will never be a good parent.

Or that I will never make enough money.

Or that people are constantly invalidating me.

Or that I always let everyone down.

Think about it! If any of the above statements hit home with you, then you probably hold that belief to be true. You are scared of that. Me too!

It is difficult, I'll admit, to look these deep seeded beliefs in the face. Surely there was something that validated it to you. And it seems to be validated everywhere you look.

I believe, however, the goal is awareness. I try to be aware or have someone else point out that my strong reaction comes from a fear. What is the fear? If I can't go back and fix it, can I at least cool down enough to realize that the person who thinks I'm an ass doesn't realize I have that fear? Can I even realize that perhaps they have a similar fear that is causing their hurt feelings too? Can each of us take responsibility for our words and our perceptions despite the fact that we never intended to cause pain?

Can't we all just get along?!?

I still believe, as long as we avoid facing these fears and false beliefs, that avoidance only leads to more attack.

Avoid = attack

Awareness = being heard, understood, a slow chipping away at the underlying false belief

Removal of false belief = less anger, more love


I'm doing my best to step back and consider mine and another's intentions, beliefs and fears when there is anger. Anger, hurt feelings... they're nothing more than a reaction, aren't they? To something INSIDE not OUTSIDE. The outside may have been a trigger but the inside was looking for that trigger all along.

There is a big difference between what we think is cause and what we think is effect.

Or maybe I'm just talking about myself?

"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering."
~ Yoda

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."
~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

"Relationships serve but one purpose: healing. But that healing can turn to hurting if no one's paying attention."
~ Me

Thursday, February 24, 2011

An object will continue moving at its current velocity until some force causes its speed to change...

Wow, ya'll, what day is it?

This seems like the longest. week. EVER.

Remember, about mid-January, when I wrote how all single parents need downtime or "me" time? Holy moly, that was no lie.

Then, about a week later, my kids and I were trapped indoors for over a week together because of ice and snow and illness?

Then, I had a brief break over Valentine's weekend to catch up on 4 weeks without my man?

What all of that means is that I haven't had a single evening or day to myself since mid-January. Which means I'm feeling very off-balance. Which means I'm not being especially patient and kind. (Which is funny... because ME being impatient and unkind is still pretty damn sweet, I'll admit.)

Then you add in a little PMS and the fact that I've still another week until I see my Gentleman, it makes for a whole body of shot nerves for this girl.

The good news is that I've kicked my triathlon training into gear. (OK, it's a low gear but a gear nonetheless.) I'm getting things done at work. The kids and pup seem happy and healthy. I'm at least doing something right somewhere.

But... DUUUUUDE (as my youngest daughter would say).... I am so ready for some downtime. The kids will be with their dad this weekend, my man has a fishing tournament he's competing in, and I have ABSOLUTELY NO PLANS.

Honestly though, I am looking forward to lying in bed all friggin' day long. I might get up to watch a movie. I may visit with a friend or take the dog for a walk. Other than that though, not a damn thing.

I am SO excited.


I remember, in my list of things I wanted in a man, I desired someone who would inspire me to push myself even harder. The last guy I dated was a hardcore, disciplined Ironman triathlete.

I was already someone who was always on the go, always making plans with others, always working out or cooking or cleaning or something. I thought it was good for me but I knew I could do more. I wanted someone to inspire me to push harder. I guess I'm Type-A, that way.

Then this guy, my Gentleman, comes into my life. He likes to relax. He likes to cuddle on the couch and watch movies. He likes to lay in bed and make love all day. He likes to sit quietly still and hold hands. Or have me lie down on the couch with a glass of wine while he rubs my feet.

It was difficult for me to change my momentum from constant motion to stillness. What I've noticed, though, is that it's really good for me. My natural doctor says it gives me balance. It allows me to do my best and be proud of that.

Yet another of the many unexpected gifts my man has given me...


So this weekend can't get here soon enough. As much as I look forward to my time with my man or my kids or my friends, I also desire that time for me.

It will feel good to pump the brakes on life, if only for a day.

*Thanks to Wikipedia's explanation of inertia for the post title*

Wednesday, February 23, 2011


Yesterday I found out that a fellow friend and blogger was engaged. I am SOOOOO excited for her. That girl has gone through some toads to find her prince.

Last September, my friend Rachel got married. I stood in her wedding and swooned as her husband-to-be said vows to both her and her daughter.

In both instances, the engagement and the wedding, I noticed a feeling that I don't like to admit to.


There was a deep seeded, "I want THAT" feeling followed quickly by a stern, "No you don't."

Much like the many posts examining my fears and thoughts of marriage from last summer, I do KNOW me better than that.

So then, where is the feeling coming from?

I wonder if, perhaps, it is the same feeling I have when I see a soldier being welcomed home by a loved one. A soldier who arrives, seemingly unharmed, and thrilled to be back in the arms of those who care.

I hoped for that. I waited 15 months for that. And I didn't get to experience it.

When I think about getting engaged and married again, I remember my marriage to my ex-husband - the man I thought was "the one" - the man I saw myself growing old with. I put 15 years into that. And I didn't get to experience it.

Perhaps, I wonder, I am simply feeling jipped.


After congratulating my friend, the happily glowing and well-deserving fiancee, my mood fell.

I was feeling especially lonely and down. I was at work and left my desk to make some lunch for myself. As I stood in the kitchen, I could hear my brain battling with these confused feelings.

Then I heard a statement loud and clear: "I just want to feel like I belong with someone. I want to feel some sort of declaration of 'mine'."

After all, that is what an engagement/marriage is, yes? A declaration to the world?

Upon recognition of that statement, I smiled. My Gentleman loves to lay claim to me. He'll tell everyone I belong to him. I rather enjoy it. I have the space to be me. He allows and accepts me like no one else. To feel like I'm "his"... feels so right.

I sat back at my desk to enjoy my lunch when, as if on cue, I received a text from him. Mind you, all of the above conversation with myself was in MY head. I didn't text him, email him or anything.

Yet proving once again that any sort of "declaration to the world" isn't necessary to connect us, I sat in stunned amazement at the single, simple text message he sent me in that moment.

All that it said was:

"My girl. :)"

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Personality Clash

I remember when I was pregnant with my 2nd daughter. As with anyone who is in love with their first child, this one thought pervaded my mind:  How can I ever love another child like I love this one, my first born child?

Then my baby girl was born. I was, at the time, suffering from the sad decline of my marriage. She, unlike my first born, was extremely affectionate and snuggly. Exactly what I needed at the time.

I've said that, felt that and have often wondered: Why wasn't my first born affectionate and snuggly?

She IS! But as the years have progressed, I've realized that there is some sort of chemical sameness about us. Our personalities are identical. And like the magnetic poles of sameness (+ to + or - to -), we very nearly repel each other.


From the time she was walking, she and I have had our differences. We were practically having door-slamming, shouting matches when she was 2. (My poor husband watched helplessly.) I couldn't for the life of me figure out why we drove each other crazy.

We are affectionate... but not as affectionate as my younger daughter and I. My older daughter simply can't be held still that long.

We still crave each other, as mother and daughter, but even if you saw us together, you'd notice a distinct space between us... where the invisible magnetic field pushes us away from each other. 

It makes me sad. I feel like there's something she's not getting from me. No one ever warns you that yours and your child's personalities might clash. That's not in any baby book.


The really cool thing is, as she's gotten older, we're able to talk about these "differences". The "differences" that we clash over are, ironically, the things I always did as a child. Now I understand so much more clearly why my dad and I drove each other crazy.

My dad and I had a strained relationship all through childhood and into adulthood. I always felt I could NEVER make him proud. I always felt as if he believed I'd amount to nothing (something I was told frequently). It wasn't until he was bedridden with cancer, waiting to die, that the realization occurred to me that we are EXACTLY THE SAME.

Both of us: headstrong, independent, creative thinkers. Both of us: determined, not held back by boundaries, making our own way through life. Both of us: tough, single-minded, first born children...

My daughter is the same. She is my first born as well.

Perhaps more is simply expected from first born children. Perhaps it is ingrained in us early.


I do love my children, both of them, for all and everything that they are. I feel sad when I recognize how different each of them feels to me. I want some equality.

At the same time, because I am looking at my first born through the eyes of recognition, she is my greatest teacher. Because I recall how I felt about my father, he is also a great teacher.

I am acutely aware of what I say to her... as I certainly want to stop the emotional beating I felt that I took from my father as a child. I want to share with her, learn through her eyes how to treat her differently than my father treated me. I am also learning more about myself and the things that I do as an adult by living life through her eyes. I am able to say to her, "I understand why you feel this way." and "I get it." and she knows that I REALLY DO. We have amazing discussions about life, love, relationships, spirituality, creativity, music, art.

My youngest, my baby girl, isn't like that. She is free of the emotional stirrings that we're so sensitive to. She looks at life with fun, naivete and innocence, something my oldest daughter has never had.

Both myself and my oldest are very attracted (+ to -) to my youngest. She is opposite both of us. She is loved and adored and spoiled rotten without, thus far, even a suggestion of jealousy.

So, I suppose our estrogen-filled household works out, in the end. I've no doubt that my first born and I will have many more clashes as she eases her way into teenhood. (Ugh) However, on the other hand, if we can stay connected, even through the magnetic fields... if we can continue to talk and understand how very alike we are... perhaps we may end up as best friends.

I sure hope so. She is still my first born love.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Moment of Silence

Photo from vi.sualize

I'd like to take this moment to send condolences to my dear friend, Canadian Bald Guy. His mother passed away last night after a brief (on/off) but painful battle with cancer.

I've said it many times, and I'll say it again: Cancer is a bitch.

As someone who lost their father and a good friend to cancer, I STILL have no words of advice. It sucks, plain and simple. As prepared as you'd think you'll be for the inevitable loss, it still hurts like hell.

Also, please say a prayer or two for Momma Sunshine, CBG's love. She is feeling strong for her man at this moment... but the helpless feeling of a long distance relationship prevails even stronger now.

CBG, I'm sending you love and strength, as best as I can muster. I pray that your family finds solace in her peace now. I hope that the wonderful memories will sustain you during this time of loss.

Please go pay a visit or tweet him some love.


Saturday, February 19, 2011

Never Say Never

When I was 11 or 12 years old, I started having my first rock star crushes.

(This will totally age me...)

My first crush was Rick Springfield. (Who, by the way, still looks HOT.)

I loved his records. I loved him on the soap opera General Hospital. I remember picking up magazines like BOP and Tiger Beat and drooling over posters of him.

I continued my rock star crush in 1982 with the band Duran Duran. (Who, by the way, still look HOT.)

In 1984, I was the screaming, crying, emotional teenager who sat with friends and watched the Duran Duran documentary of their pinnacle of world tour success, Sing Blue Silver. I watched it so many times that if you were to play it today, I would STILL know every word of it by heart. My mom has pictures of me, in front of the TV, mesmerized and in tears.

Yep, I was THAT teenager.

So, I asked myself, why was I so dang resistant when my daughters wanted to go see the new Justin Bieber movie, Never Say Never?

I guess I had some preconceived notion about him being a contrived, big-record-company-molded-phony with no talent.

Funny, people said the same things about Duran Duran back in the day...

We went to the movie. My daughter, right before the movie started, announced to me, "We're about to get the Bieber fever."

....and I have to say, all similarities to Sing Blue Silver aside, it was really good. I NEVER thought I'd say that.

Heh. Good title for a movie, by the way.

I found myself taking mental notes during the film for this blog post. Here are the main reasons I enjoyed it:

1) He was raised by a single mom. A teenage single mom. More power to her that she was also a praying, teenage single mom who had great support from her parents. To see her emotional response at his success makes this single mom's heart soar.

2) Seriously? For those of us who watch American Idol, we would TOTALLY be cheering for this kid if he was on AI. Self-taught, raw, natural talent, charisma, confidence. And yes, he's cute too.

3) For us bloggers, who love social media, we get it. We comprehend the power of Twitter, Facebook and youtube. Well, this kid basically wrote his own story and built critical mass using social networking and a tiny team of supporters. A team that couldn't be held back by mainstream media. A team that couldn't harness his desire to perform for people.

4) Lastly, I remember what it was like to be a teenager, and an emotional one at that. Being a teenager is hard. My escape was the rock star crushes and their music. I would turn on the Rio or Seven and the Ragged Tiger albums, put on my headphones and feel a whole lot less alone in the world. Not to mention the many other ways I was inspired.

As a teen, I needed to hear positive messages. I needed to hear that dreams could come true. I needed to know that magic was possible in life. I like that he is providing that to the teens and entire families that enjoy his shows and his music. The coolest part of it all is that THEY discovered him.

I'm not sure if this Bieber kid will stick around forever but ya know what? For the drive and talent and energy that I saw in this movie, he just may.

And now, I'll be purchasing a Bieber cd for my Bieber fever household too.

Oh and my daughters want me to buy a BOP magazine because it has a poster of Justin Bieber for their room. Pfft.... where would they get an idea that I'd do anything like that?!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

The Ride: Crazy all the way

I've ridden my bike in the rain.

I've ridden my bike up some insane hills.

I've fallen off the bike and been left with some serious road rash.

I've ridden 160 miles twice in an event to raise money for a charity.

But this guy? CRAZY

I don't watch The Amazing Race but my girlfriend, KK, does. She is also a cyclist/triathlete, like myself. She invited me to a one-night-only screening of this movie tonight. The movie features Phil Keoghan of the Amazing Race biking across America to raise money for the National MS Society.

Much like when I attended the one-night-only showing of Race Across the Sky (featuring Lance Armstrong at the Leadville 100 mile trail ride up a Colorado mountain) I knew I'd be inspired to push myself even further.

Here's the thing though: I'm just not that kind of crazy.

I love watching these types of films. I enjoy watching the Ironman World Championship Triathlon every October. I love the Olympics. I am moved by the resiliency of the human spirit and body. I cry to see the struggles and determination. I get chills watching the things these amazing athletes accomplish.

But seriously... I'm just not sure I have that kind of ooomph in me.

I love ooomph in all sorts of things - my food, my sex, my friends, my man, my job, my life! I love the spice of a good challenge. However, I wasn't athletic until a few years ago. I don't even feel especially competitive. I simply enjoy challenging myself.

Maybe it's another reason I enjoy sports like baseball, football, etc. Perhaps it's the same sort of admiration of another's skills and accomplishments.

So, I will be an armchair athlete. I'll sit back and enjoy these awesome films showcasing astonishing human feats... and I will be inspired...

I'll get back on the bike and push myself again. I'll get to working on my triathlon training schedule again. After watching Phil Keoghan battle 3500 miles through all sorts of elements and challenges, those hills and falls and open water swims don't look so bad after all.

Maybe watching that kind of crazy inspires a little more ooomph.

Just a little.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Don't buy me chocolate unless you want to fatten me up

I have always been built skinny. My frame is pretty tiny. My oldest daughter, who is in elementary school, and I not only have the same wrist size but the same sized hands as well.

Imagine how I carried 50-60 lbs over what my weight should be. That was when not pregnant. Now imagine me giving birth to two 9 lb. babies!

I've blogged about the weight issues I had during my marriage. I was heavy and continued yo-yo dieting on and off for years. The dieting only made it worse.

Weight Watchers helped me to refine my eating (moderation). And being genetically prone to diabetes helped me to figure out what foods made me feel bad. Yoga taught me to be gentle with my body and the weight came off too. Divorce also helped with the weight loss... I don't eat when depressed.

Thankfully, I've been able to maintain the same weight for over 5 years now. My weight fluctuates within 5 lbs depending on the time of year, with winter being my heaviest. Triathlons have helped. Yoga helps. A budget helps too. I'm not eating like royalty as I did when I was married to a gourmet.

Recently, however, with the hormonal issues I've struggled with, I have taken various herbs to balance out my system. In the past month, I have put on an additional 5 lbs.

Winter weight? The herbs?


To those in my life, it appears I've not gained weight at all. I can tell though. My clothes are more snug.

Gentleman Jack... he keeps freakin' buying me chocolate. And my ex bought me chocolate for Christmas too. I'd also bought myself my favorite truffles before Christmas. The kids brought home tons of Valentine's chocolate. Oh and all the sweet decadence of hot chocolate in the winter months...

Have I mentioned that I love chocolate?

My Gentleman has always said that he thinks I could stand to gain a few pounds. I'm not sure this is what he means though. Heh. Besides, I was healthy & happy at that weight! It was the ideal weight for my size.

I put my gym membership on hold for the winter. I generally go there to swim for triathlon training. Is that the cause? Because I'm not swimming?

I've not been riding the bike or running as much. Is that it? I usually slow down during the winter anyway.

Is it because I recently turned 41?

So... um... I'm not freaking out about this or anything. I just don't want to think that I can't maintain my current weight because of various outside influences... like chocolate! Maybe I'm also a little scared about how much I weighed before and how it happened without me even really paying attention. Maybe being happy settles in on my waistline.

I've also noticed that I'm eating more and more and more. Generally when I'm in training, I eat a lot but I'm eating snacks or small meals all the time. I fill up quickly. Now, I find myself snacking on all the freakin' chocolate!

I'd also decided around New Years that I was going to begin training for another triathlon in Jack's hometown. (Anyone want to virtually train with me?) This, I suppose, is even more reason. This time, however, I'm not going to push myself so much. I feel like I've devoted enough time to being lazy and slacking off while growing comfortable in my new relationship. I want a healthy balance of lazy and athletic now, ya know? There will be plenty of time for Ironman competitions later.

Pfft. Yeah.

I'm certainly nowhere near obese but I do think the awareness of this change is good.

I'm happy with my man.

I'm getting happier with my job and prospects.

I'm feeling more settled into... lots of things. More stable. More at peace.

Now if I can lay off the sweets and get myself back into the running, cycling, swimming, yoga routine again, I've no doubt my eating habits and weight will balance out again.

And I'll feed the chocolate to my man.


Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Identity Crisis... Again

Yes, again.

With my new interest at work, I am facing a decision.

Let's see how to explain this.

First of all, I love this blog. I love my audience. I love the feedback. I love that I can say whatever I want. I do this in real life. I do this at work. My employers know I have this blog. They know I've done sex toy reviews and podcast interviews discussing sex. They know my history because I've been working there pretty much as long as I've been blogging.

As far as I know, they don't read here. I could be wrong.

The point is... it doesn't affect my employment with them.

If you recall, however, there was one person in my life who had a HUGE problem with this blog. I took the blog even more anonymous because of that... and respectfully.

I've been blogging along happily since then... with seemingly no one offended.

The dilemma comes with my new interest in employment opportunities. The dilemma is that I'd like to showcase my writing to future employers. I'd like to have a downright, honest-to-goodness, this-is-me-for-realz blog.

I can't, however, maintain 2 blogs. It would simply be TOO much.

Then there's the problem with the one person who has a problem with my blogging. He would be able to find me. And it could possibly affect my children as well.

I've also been considering changing my name so that he couldn't find me. That, however, means that I also change my professional name. Changing my name means explaining nearly 20 years of employment under my current name.

Then there's the whole changing the way I blog thing. Obviously, in a professional sense, I cannot be as raw as I am here. Then again, what would I possibly write about? I would have to hold back.

Which doesn't seem fair.

I am at a loss. I don't know which way to go. I never thought I'd actually consider showcasing my blogging ability for employment.

I also can't imagine losing all that I've shared here. I can't imagine dropping readers and starting from scratch again. I can't imagine the changes...

Me with a new professional name and blog? Really? Does it fit?

The most ironic part of it is that having a real blog under my real name... actually wouldn't be as real as I am here.

I am not the same person I was when I began this blog. I am not the same person I was during the year and a half I dated Soldier. I am not the same person I was during the aftermath of the break-up and healing from dating Soldier. I am not the same person I was over a year and a half ago when I began dating Gentleman Jack.

All along, I've had readers come and go. I've also had some that have been reading since the beginning of this journey.

I'm not sure what to share or what to do. Do I limit my time here so that I can produce something else?

I'm definitely at a crossroads.

I added a new comment feature so that, if I or anyone else wanted to, we could reply or comment to each other. I love encouraging conversation. Let me know if you have problems commenting now. Thanks.

Monday, February 14, 2011

What love is... and is not.

I fully appreciate that my daughters love music like I do. I love that they have their own tastes, separate from my own. They listen at school, with their friends, at their dad's house, on TV. Sometimes, however, I wonder how this media, as well as others, will affect how they view relationships and love.

For instance, I had a problem with the song Love the Way You Lie (by Eminem & Rihanna). I had to explain that one and now, I find myself in the same quandary with the most recent Bruno Mars song, Grenade.

Especially when my oldest daughter, who has an excellent voice, is walking around belting out these lyrics:

I'd catch a grenade for ya
Throw my hand on a blade for ya
I'd jump in front of a train for ya
You know I'd do anything for ya

I would go through all this pain
Take a bullet straight through my brain
Yes, I would die for you, baby
But you won't do the same
No, no, no, no

I'm trying to make sure she understands that if you feel you have to put yourself through PAIN for someone... just to prove you love them? Well, that's not really love at all. What that means is that the person of interest ISN'T INTERESTED.

Why make someone a priority when you are only an option?


I recorded Superman and Superman II this past weekend so the kids could see handsome Christopher Reeve play the superhero.

They're hooked!

The one scene, when Lois Lane dies, and Superman flies around the world to reverse time has always moved me.

As I watched it with my daughters, I pointed out that scene.

"THAT...." I began.

"Is LOVE!" they completed my sentence in unison.

Yes. Exactly.

I think true love *should* bring out your inner superhero. The person you're with should inspire you to be the best YOU you can be! Even if you never have to use your super powers for anything other than simply loving and accepting - yourself and those around you - just as they are.

Do you agree?


"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."
~ Lao-Tzu

"Love is the ability and willingness to allow those that you care for to be what they choose for themselves without any insistence that they satisfy you."
~ Dr. Wayne Dyer

"Love one another and you will be happy. It's as simple and as difficult as that."
~ Michael Leunig

Sunday, February 13, 2011

More beautiful than flowers

One of the coolest things about having a blog is being able to go back and see what you were doing or going through at the same time the year prior. Or even 2 or 3 years prior.

Last year, I felt so much pressure to please my Gentleman for our special and first Valentines Day together. I've not been a huge fan of the holiday because it *is* rather contrived and puts so much pressure on everyone. It's as bad as Christmas! As with most women, I'd much prefer an expression of love for no special reason in particular other than it was what he felt at the time.

This time around, after over a year and a half together, I felt differently about being with Gentleman Jack for Valentines weekend.

First of all, he was very apologetic that he wouldn't be sending me flowers like he did last year. I reminded him that it wasn't necessary when he sent them last year. He, however, insisted that women say that but probably don't really mean it. The fact that he did send them last year showed me that he knew more about women than most women would readily admit to. That, to me, was more impressive than the gorgeous and expensive bouquet of roses.

Secondly, being in a long distance relationship, and going a month without seeing each other, the best gift he could give me, the best "present" was his "presence". Flowers wilt and die. This amazing weekend of spending time together was more than I could ask for.

Perhaps a long distance relationship makes you appreciate the simple gifts.

This year, I felt no pressure to deliver some extravagant meal or lingerie or gift. I had no ridiculous expectations of how I should be or how he should be. We were able to spend quality, uninterrupted, child-free time together for the first time since last summer. We were absolutely giddy about the fact that we could do whatever we wanted! That was a gift unto itself!

We didn't do much of anything, over the weekend, except reconnect....over and over again. Early evening on Saturday, I realized I'd not even put on a lick of makeup and I was wearing nothing fancier than jeans and a t-shirt. I apologized for not "dressing sexy".

"You're my girl," he said, "That's as sexy as you can get in my eyes."

We cooked together an awesome homemade dinner that would have cost TOO MUCH had we gone to a restaurant:

Surf & Turf: Steak with garlic butter shrimp scampi

Then we made a quick, light and delicious dessert:

Chocolate-dipped strawberries & our fave wine

And um... the dipping chocolate came in handy too.

We talked. We watched a movie. We snuggled. We never took our hands off of each other.

I also love how he's so communicative and appreciative. Many times over the weekend, he would delve into reasons of why we are so good together. He did it, not because it was Valentines weekend. He is always this way. Responsive. Loving. Gracious.

One of the best compliments I received was earlier today:

It was such a BEAUTIFUL blue-sky-sunshiny day that we decided to go for a Sunday drive. On the way, we met my brother and stopped at a tiny restaurant in the middle of the wide open spaces of Texas to have lunch. Gentleman Jack, ever intuitive, picked up on the somber mood of my brother. My brother is going through a tough time, for a lot of reasons, but one in particular is because of a girl.

"You know what you need," Jack told him, "You need to meet a girl like your sister. Yeah, I know that sounds weird. But you need to meet someone who accepts you for who you are. Someone who doesn't keep score. Someone who won't allow you to give so much that you feel depleted because... well... she gives too. You actually want to do more for her because she's always doing for you too. This is like no other relationship I've ever had. I think everyone would be happy to have someone like your sister."

My sweet love...

It was sad to see him go this evening. It'll be another 3 weeks til we see each other again. But tomorrow, when it's Valentines Day and everyone will be with their sweethearts, when everyone will feel pressure to be in some sort of relationship or feel pressure to buy a box of chocolates or expensive flowers or dine at an expensive restaurant, I'll be perfectly content.

I had a simple, enjoyable weekend with my man. Nothing fancy. Nothing extravagant. No pressure.

Kind of like our relationship.

When I look back a year ago, I realize that *no pressure* is the gift that has allowed our love to bloom beautifully on its own.

You can't always say that about a dozen roses.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Weekend plans

Photo from vi.sualize

Well, my house is clean and the laundry's done.


I did some yoga so that I'll be limber and stretchy.


I have a few things to do tomorrow at work that will definitely keep my mind occupied.


Because, honestly, there's only been one thing on my mind for the past several days.


But all of that will be resolved tomorrow night when my man arrives.


I have a nice dinner planned, our favorite wine and candles ready to light.


I was thinking about some lingerie but it may be a waste of perfectly good lace.


I may simply greet him with a smile.


Only one more sleep til I see my love.


And best of all, the house will be ours, ONLY ours, for the first time since July.


No responsibilities. No plans.


No one to take care of except each other.


Hmmm.... wonder what we'll do to occupy ourselves all weekend....


Ya'll enjoy yourselves, mmmkay? I certainly will be.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Bitchy divorce lawyer saved me from homelessness!

When I asked my husband to move out... and we'd both agreed to divorce... I was extremely resentful.

During our marriage, I'd finished college and worked in a very successful IT career making loads of money. Before my first child was 2 years old, I was a stay at home mom and had another baby on the way. I was barely working a part time job when we decided to divorce. Now I was going to be a single mom of 2?

I was pissed at him that I was in that predicament. Why didn't HE have to sacrifice HIS career to stay home with the children? Why couldn't HE take a major pay cut in order to be around more? Instead I was left with few options. I could no longer travel, as I had previously in my career. His job required travel nearly 90% of the time. If I were to go back to a position similar to the one I'd held before, I would be required to travel and fend for myself in regards to taking care of my children. I certainly couldn't depend on him to cut back. He was concerned with his own future. How was he going to afford child support?

With the situation seeming impossible, I chose instead to look for a job with much less salary and benefits so that my children could have a stable life with a parent who was consistently around.

Prior to stumbling into the perfect fitting job, however, I was scared to death. How on earth was I going to make it on my own? How on earth could I feed, clothe and house my children? I no longer trusted my soon-to-be-ex-husband. I remember shouting at him that we'd be homeless, out on the streets begging for food.

Eeeeeeyeah, I have a flair for the dramatic, don't I?

I'm sure many single parents have found themselves imagining the same circumstances.

I still remember him telling me that he would never allow that to happen. He then moved in with a family member and continued handing over his paycheck until our home sold and I was able to get some financial footing. I smile when I think about that. Guess I could still trust him after all...

But let me back up again.

When I was still lost in the fear of homelessness and starvation, I searched and located a divorce attorney who offered free consultations. I arrived in her office looking for answers, reassurance, and a way to make sure I'd have an upper hand in the impending divorce proceedings.

The divorce lawyer, a seasoned professional woman in her mid-40's, listened patiently as I told her my story. I tearfully explained the history of our marriage and the marital breakdown. I told her of my sacrificed career and financial earnings. I begged her for positive answers on child support and alimony and the simple question, "Would I be taken care of?"

Very calmly, she looked at me over her glasses and said, "Let me get this straight. You have a degree in IT and worked in a very successful career for nearly 10 years and now you've been home with your kids, right?"

She then pursed her eyebrows and sternly said, "You are quite capable of making that money again. You have education and experience, something other people don't. He doesn't owe you shit. You need to get off your ass and go find a job."

I'm not sure I responded with anything other than a jaw drop. I was pissed. I left there thinking what a BITCH she was. How dare she?

Then that anger... turned to motivation... and a job that fit me and my situation perfectly.


That story came to mind recently because sometimes, I still feel resentful. I get irritated that my ex-husband has more income than I do. Occasionally, I get pissed when I feel lack or financial worries. I find myself irritated that Gentleman Jack isn't wealthy and taking care of me (not that being a kept woman is worth it.)

Then I remember, "I have education and experience. They don't owe me shit. I need to get off my ass and make it happen for myself."

And I send off a silent thank you to the divorce lawyer who told me, in so many words, that I'd be OK.

"You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you."
~ Walt Disney

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

An Open Letter to a Superhero

To you, who is allowing your light to dim,

When we first met, you told me countless stories of the marriage you'd just left. You were still struggling with the divorce and the fact that your ex had moved on with their affair partner.

You were hurting. You felt abused. You felt taken for granted. You felt like you'd lost yourself in all of the efforts to be who you thought your spouse wanted you to be.

I could relate. I was feeling a bit beat up myself. I was going through my own breakup and loss.

We bonded.

Since that day over dinner, as our children played across the playground, oblivious and resilient, I've watched you grow. We've leaned on each other. We've cheered for each other. We've shared even more stories of bitterness and forgiveness and our own resiliency. After every lunch or fast food dining experience so that our kids would "go play" and we could "have our grown up talks", both of us go home with a smile and a little more strength than before.

You call me your best friend. I call you mine.

We bring out each others' superhero.

I see you now, again beaten down. Again, feeling weak. Again with the stories of abuse and hurt. Again feeling lost and taken advantage of in yet another relationship that you're holding on to for far too long.

And again I say to you... You're worth more than this.

If you were just venting, I'd understand. You hear me vent. You've seen my frustration and fear. We both know how difficult relationships can be.

You also hear me swoon and gush and glow with pride at how supported and loved I feel. You've seen me grow and blossom and get even stronger. You've said to me, "I want what you have."

But this... this current relationship you're in? It's not it. If you could share with me some goodness about it! If you could tell me something that it ADDS to your life and who you wish to be! Why isn't this relationship or your partner bringing out YOUR SUPERHERO?! That's what relationships should do!

If you could look at me and say, "I want this. I want where this relationship is taking me!" then I would give you blessings and support.

Instead I hear you say, "this is not me." and "i'm acting so differently than who i thought i was." and "i guess i'll keep trying to please and see if i can make my partner happy... once and for all."

Well, it's not about you. Your partner is sad, lost, co-dependent, selfish, hateful, mean, spiteful and personally? I want to go kick some ass.

And I usually LOVE everybody!

But this person is messing with my friend. My friend who is worth more. My friend who is allowing this again. Perhaps it is YOUR ass I should kick?

Ah yes, again I'm reminded that it is *your* path and *your* lessons to learn.

My friend.... you, for some reason, invited yet another destructive relationship into your life. Perhaps only to find out.... "Can I actually see my worth and not take the abuse this time?"

I say to you: Only YOU can answer the question you're asking yourself.

I will be here either way.

Love you.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Just call me Pimp-T - Yo!


I don't even know where to start. I'm fairly certain those of you who read have been reading for a while and know all about me, right? For those that haven't, I will put links all through this post for the back story.

I'm bisexual. I first "came out" in a blog post where I admitted to kissing a girl.

(Funny enough, it was a conversation with Depot Dad, who passed away last September, and who would have turned 46 years old yesterday, that led me to publish that post. I was so worried about being judged. He said, "T, I don't think anyone would be surprised.")

What took me a while to finally come out with.... was that the girl I'd kissed was in a relationship with a very close male friend of mine. And he watched. And we all ended up... well... you know.

The other women I've slept with were also in relationships; some of them married. They were in places in their marriage where their sexuality felt stifled. I get it. I had an affair so um... yeah. I get it.

I spent over a year seducing as many women as I could. I even seduced a few guys... sometimes at the same time.

The point is.... I've sort of been on my own sexploration for a while now. This is the reason I took a step back and examined my sexuality in a series of posts last year. My history of relationships and sex led me to believe that a monogamous relationship was impossible.

That is...until I became involved with Gentleman Jack.

Knowing all of that about me, it should come as no surprise that people in my life, namely women, have asked me for sexual or relationship advice.

Sadly, many times the advice has been due to their own infidelity.... or their thoughts of sexual experimentation outside their marriage and hopes that I'll serve as an alibi.

Again, I shouldn't have been taken off guard when, yesterday, a former female lover (who is married) asked me to put her in contact with another female friend who is going through a divorce. The soon-to-be-divorcee has been interested in sexploring with another female for some time now. I also know of a few more soon-to-be-divorcees who would also be willing to have sex with her.

She would like to "experience" something, again outside of her marriage, and was hoping that I would either partake (I turned her down) or that I could help her find a female lover.

Perhaps any other female would tell her she was out of her mind. Maybe someone else would handle it differently. Me? Well crap. I've only recently changed my attitude about sex & relationships. I've only recently decided to have a monogamous relationship for the first time in my life.

I UNDERSTAND why she wants to explore. I know how much she wants to experience. I also know that uggggg.... her marriage will NOT survive this!

***It's like... when you're watching a scary movie and you KNOW the killer is in the other room and the woman is going to check it out and you're yelling at the screen, "DO NOT GO IN THERE!" 
.... but they don't hear you and go in there anyway only to be
bludgeoned to death.
And you're all, "UGGGG! I told you not to go in there!"***

I remember the day she came to my house, shortly after her husband only suspected that I was "leading her down the path to hell" (i.e. corrupting her). I remember her standing on my front porch crying and shaking in fear. She did not want to lose her husband. She felt so awful that her mind had strayed and she had tasted what it was like to be with someone else... me.

I felt responsible. I did corrupt her. She hadn't even seen a porn movie before I brought out a few DVDs. From me she learned about porn and dildos and vibrators and sensual sex with another woman... and now... she wants to experience more.

I reminded her of that vision, her terror on my front porch ... and she insists... it's just sexploration.

I told her that I do not want to be associated with her experiences. She can talk to me about her feelings. I can help her process but I do not wish to be involved. Her husband is only recently allowing her to spend time with me again.


It HAS been almost a month since I've had sex. The discussion was a turn on. The thought of it made me heated. I am still very attracted to women. This time, though, I could see through it. I felt no guilt because of where I am now!

I attempted to talk to her from my newest perspective, what I've learned, what I've witnessed in her relationship as well as others. I then also talked to my very understanding lover about my feelings, how it turned me on, how I need sex like nobody's business and that the temptation was there but that I choose not to have sex outside our relationship.

He understood. He is not concerned. He trusts me.

Wow. He TRUSTS me.

I feel that perhaps I have been a bad influence on these women in my life. Maybe I have corrupted them. Perhaps I have made it sound like fun (and it always was!).

But I was SINGLE. And I'm divorced because I explored DURING my marriage. I've learned my lessons. I want to be authentic. Real. Honest. I want to sexplore with my very willing, sexy, able-bodied man.

I'm amazed that I've been asked to practically pimp out the women in my life so they can have sex with each other.

My life is never boring.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

A Scent, A Memory, A Feeling

The kids are in bed asleep, earlier than they have been the past several nights. They actually WILL have school tomorrow. (yay!) The puppy is curled up in her normal place, the foot of my oldest daughter's bed. The house is quiet.

It was a great day but it hit me sometime about mid-day.

I miss my Gentleman.

I couldn't even tell if there was anything in particular that made me think of him. Just a simple passing thought, "I wish he was here too."

I send off a little text to him, "Oh. Em. Gee. I miss you sooooooooooo much."

I step into my bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth in preparation for bed. The mattress warmer is heating my covers as I do this. I'm already shivering after turning the thermostat down for the night. I look at my face in the mirror and sigh aloud. It's been almost 4 weeks...

I hear the familiar jingle of my phone in receipt of a text message.

I walk to my bedside table and check the message. I smile when I read his response: "I'm trying not to think about it. Next weekend will be so worth it!"

He's right. It will be.

I walk to the chest of drawers and reach in to pull out a tank top to wear. In the corner of my eye, I see the other bedside table with the drawer... the one he keeps t-shirts in.... the ones he wears for a little while and sprays with cologne when he's visiting me.... the t-shirts I can cuddle up with on nights like these when I miss him.

I put the tank top back and instead slide open the drawer of my man shirts. I press a random t-shirt to my face and inhale deeply. Instantly, there is a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. My heart feels heavy as I fall to my knees and pull out one, two, and then many more shirts and breathe in the scent of my love.

I'm sure I look silly, knelt down in front of a drawer with several t-shirts in my arms, sniffing like an animal, tears falling on my cheeks. I sit for a moment and wrap myself in the warmth of the masculine scent. Placing the other shirts back in the drawer, I pull one over my head and slip my arms into the sleeves that dangle large from my shoulders.

I crawl into my covers and pull the shirt back to my face again. I close my eyes and imagine his warm body, his strong arms, his kisses on my face.

I fall asleep before he calls me to say good night. In a brief dream, I am enveloped in a secure, sweet, loving embrace. I awake, startled by the ringing of the phone. After a few words, I admit to wearing his t-shirt to bed. He responds with a modest tone to his voice, "My baby...".

We both sigh into our headsets.

As we say our "I love you's", and "sweet dreams", I tell him thank you.

"Thank you for loving me the way you do."

Next weekend will be so worth it.

Friday, February 4, 2011


Well, HISTORIC SNOWMAGEDDON 2011 has foiled plans to see my man this weekend.

However, the good news is that his ex called a few nights ago and willingly volunteered to keep not only their young son next weekend but also his teen son! My eyes grew very suspicious of this as he informed me on our nightly phone call. I'm not sure she won't hold this over his head at some point... Ya know what though? We'll gladly accept it!

I've been a little irritated with Gentleman Jack this week because he's been a bit snippy on the phone. I knew that he's had a rough few weeks but I also know that things have been improving. Don't even get me started on the rough-crazy-completely-INSANE week I've had but I wasn't complaining. I was actually handling it quite well, despite being trapped indoors with kids trying to stay healthy and a dog trying to recover from being spayed.

Did you hear that? I wasn't complaining. Despite the fact that I could've cried at any moment. Despite the fact that each day saw no improvement. I stayed calm and patient with the kids. I didn't let it bring me down. I didn't allow depression to take over. I feel like I handled it relatively well when I think I may have normally been very anxious and hysterical.

And I was PMS-ing too!

I've not been able to be online much due to being up to my eyeballs with blood and snot and guilt about not getting enough work done for work. (Sorry to be graphic. That's not even half of it!)

But through it all, I think I've kept a calm head on my shoulders.

My Gentleman, though. My sweet, sensitive man... has been pissy nearly every night on the phone. Little things were making him snap or start to pick a fight. I caught myself a few nights ago sounding like him when he was doing this. I very calmly asked, "What's going on with you? Because this is silly and I KNOW this isn't what's making you upset."

It wasn't until last night when we finalized the lack-of-plan for this weekend in honor of a porn-sex-filled NEXT weekend, that I realized why he seemed to be manstruating worse than I was.

It's been 3 weeks since we've seen each other. It'll be 4 weeks when we finally do. When he said to me, "I'm going crazy. And I'll be walking around with a constant hard on for the next week." I knew where the irritation was coming from.

My man needs sex.


We had a particular conversation recently about the male/female differences. I recall saying that (in general) women need emotional connection.

He replied that men need sex.

Women need to feel love.

Men need to feel respect.

We mix all that up and it makes for a great relationship strength, right?

Soulful, heated, emotionally connecting sex = happy man AND woman.

Treating each other with love & respect = happy man AND woman.

Oh don't get me wrong, I could most certainly handle some good lovin' from my sessy man right now. But honestly, being as overwhelmed as I have been this week, I haven't even entertained the thought.

Next weekend though? Brang it!

We'll have to wait yet another week for the love, comfort, snuggles, and steam that we so cherish about being together. But next weekend will be childfree and carefree! Woohoo!

....and by the following Monday, there will be 2 less people on their periods.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Cabin Fever 2011

Well, we started out this week in a bad way with my little one being ill with a mysterious fever/sinus thing. And we're also getting over the puppy being spayed and any attempts to keep her from chewing or clawing her incision wide open and bleeding to death.

She hates the 'cone of shame' and other ways I'm keeping her from killing herself.

Now... it's HISTORIC MEGA-FREEZE 2011!

I'm seriously wondering if this is Dallas-Ft. Worth's hospitality towards the Green Bay Packers and Pittsburgh Steelers. Why not give the teams the weather they're used to, right?

In the meanwhile, the entire metroplex is a frozen tundra and schools, businesses and airports are closed. I found out this evening that the kids' schools are closed yet again tomorrow.

Me? I'm going absolutely stir crazy with the constant "Mom. Mom? Mom!" around here. If I decide to break away for a moment, even for a biology break, there's one of them telling me about something on TV or an issue with the dog or "can I get a snack?"

Dear lord, a woman can only take so much.

Honestly though? I will let you in on something. Shhh...

I'm kind of enjoying hanging out and doing absolutely nothing with my kiddos.

I am still getting some things done for work, here and there. I forgot how much constant maintenance is required to be home with kids though. Wow. And all of those groceries I bought for the Super Bowl this weekend are slowly being chipped away. Guess it was good I bought so much before this wintry icy hell hit, huh?

Speaking of, it's apparently going to be the coldest night in 15 years here tonight. The low is expected to be 5 - 10 degrees F... and the rest of the week isn't looking much better.

Dude. Effin cold.

In the meanwhile, I've gotten the most out of my Netflix subscription. That's some really inexpensive awesomeness right there.

The kids and I would usually rent On Demand movies but it was starting to add up. I'd heard about Netflix but wasn't sure I was into the whole DVD in the mail thing. I didn't realize sheer volume of movies and TV shows that were available instantly from their website after you subscribe. I hooked the laptop up to the TV and off we went.

I introduced the girls to a few of my fave shows:

Despite the fun TV shows, the TV is getting REALLY old around here. We rarely watch it so just the sound of it all day is making my head spin.

Tomorrow, we're going to pull out some board games and possibly play a little fitness game in the living room. The girls like to see how many push-ups, crunches, jumping jacks and other exercises they can do at a time. It challenges me too.

Besides, I have to work off the dessert I whipped up tonight after dinner anyway.

Between that and the hot chocolate... and the crockpot ribs I'm making tomorrow... we gotta keep movin'!

And this weather better pass so my man can get to me this weekend...grrr...

Stay warm, ya'll!