About Elle

I'm a Navy wife and a mama to a daughter who's like a hummingbird on crack.
Author Archive | Elle

Book Suggestions For Adults And Kids Wrap Up

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Me Before You

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The Art Of Crash Landing

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Between You And Me

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You

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P. Zonka Lays An Egg

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One Grain Of Rice

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Dear Hot Dog

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Last Night, I Woke Up From A Nightmare About Donald Trump Being Elected President. Oh, Wait…

A few posts ago when I posted about being in disbelief over Trump becoming the president-elect, I received some Pro-Trump comments. I didn’t publish them because I want to piss off any fucking idiot who supports him.

It doesn’t matter who you voted for. The fact is, he’s full of hate. He spews hate and it’s disgusting.

I feel like we are turning into that movie, Idiocracy. I blame the idolization of the Kartrashians. And, my in-laws. I enjoy blaming my in-laws for everything just because.

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Silence

The other day I was wondering what you were doing but then I remembered you were gone. I can’t believe it’s been seven years, eight years, nine years, ten years, eleven years, twelve years, thirteen years since you left us so early. Even though we didn’t always get along, I loved you like a sister.

It’s not surprising, we had known each other since preschool. Our moms were great friends. We would spend Christmas Eve at your house and get a personal appearance from Santa Claus.

I even remember being at your house when they debuted Michael Jackson’s video, Thriller. Your mom was peeking through her fingers the entire time. As you got older, you grew your hair long. It was the most beautiful brown hair I have seen.

You were at my wedding but I was so overwhelmed with people that I never got a chance to say hello. I’ve seen my wedding video and watched as you stood aside while I greeted people. There is so much guilt I feel because of that.

You moved out of the small town where we lived. I had moved away several years before. You got married but by then we had lost touch. I would always ask my mom how you were.

I’ll never know what led you to take your own life on that day in November. Your mom has never recovered. Nobody will be the same. The shock of it was with me for months and then disbelief set it. It has been with me since.

I was never angry at you but I wish you would have talked to someone, anyone. I still can’t accept that you are no longer here, even after thirteen years. I will still catch myself, wondering what you’re doing.

*www.save.org/

*National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8288

*Just Breathe

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Peenterest: I Commit

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After School

Months ago, the hummingbird was on the playground after school and I noticed a dad I had seen several times before.

He stood out to me on all of those occasions since he would be standing around the playground after school while his daughter would swing, and her pink, sparkly, glitter backpack would be thrown over his shoulder, which I found very sweet. Then, they would walk back to their car while I would pass them by, going the other way.

One particular day, there was a man I hadn’t recognized at pick up that was waiting. He stood out because of his big beard. He had nothing on ZZ Top but, it was still substantial.

On this particular day, the little girl came out and went right to the bearded man while the other guy was standing back. The situation was pretty easy to sum up… dad, daughter, and stepdad. The two men didn’t exchange any conversation, just a nod. The stepdad told the girl they needed to get going and she was in tears before he finished telling her she had to leave her dad.

The stepdad took her pink, sparkly, glitter backpack over his shoulder and tried to have her walk to the parking lot. She was holding on to her dad with tears running down her face and that’s when the dad suggested he’ll walk her to the car too.

I watched as they left for the parking lot and there was this sadness that came over me and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. It’s one of those things that got to me, hit a nerve. Seeing the quiet acceptance that both men had for each other was so foreign to me but also really nice to witness.

Growing up, my parents and stepparents were at odds. It could turn absolutely crazy at times. I was usually around adults who didn’t think about the outcome their actions would have on their children as far as my biological dad and stepmother were concerned.

The way that little girl cried and wailed at the thought of no longer being in the safety and comfort of her father’s arms and the stepdad walking along with them made me see how things can actually be civil between adults when it comes to children being involved.

It also made me look at my husband and I and how we interact with each other can have a big affect on the hummingbird. It’s made me more aware that how she sees us as parents will have an impact on her romantic relationships and friendships. I saw so much fighting when I was growing up, I actually thought that was the sign of a good relationship.

It took meeting my husband all these years ago to find out that’s not the case at all. I really don’t have any kind of point to this post, just that seeing that after school moment was a powerful thing for me. It made me more aware of teaching my daughter what a healthy relationship is, not only with her partner some day, but with others.

*Icky Thump

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No More Soccer EVER!

I feel like that should read No More Wire Hangers EVERRRR because Joan Crawford’s hatred of wire hangers is close to my hatred of my kid playing soccer. Yes, I’ve been bitching and whining about how I can’s stand being a “soccer mom” because of it being such a time suck and my kid hates going to practices. Getting her out the door for practice made me want to crawl into a ball and cry.

I bitched and moaned about it to my husband for the past three years and it turns out whining about something for that long finally registered with my husband. But, for some reason, it can take them twice as long to fix something you’ve been asking them to.

So to recap, bitch and whine, don’t politely ask your partner to fix something and they’ll do it faster.

A few weeks ago, my husband said the sweetest words to me that I’ve ever heard in our nearly twenty two years together (yes, we married very young). He said:

“Next year, I’m not signing the hummingbird up for soccer.”

I told him:

“Hallefuckingluah! I could fuck you right now!”

Little did I know that the soccer coach was to my right side, handing out soccer pictures and heard every word.

Whoops.

*Blue Orchid

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Gobsmacked

He is not my president. He is a racist, repulsive, disgusting, disturbed, misogynistic asshole.

The end.

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