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My Therapist Is On Vacation Post: Flower Girl

wedding-bouquet

In all my years of therapy, I only mentioned my former step-mother to my psychologist a few times which is kind of shocker because she was such a bitch. It was bad enough that my biological dad is schizophrenic, was an alcoholic, and would snort whatever he could find. My ex stepmother was bipolar and an alcoholic or as I experienced, a mean and vindictive drunk.

Every time my bio dad “Tom” would piss her off, “Kathy” didn’t just keep it between them. Oh, no, that’s too simple. The bitch would take it out on me and put me in the middle of whatever bullshit fight they were going through at the time.

I was only 9 years-old when it first started since that’s when I met my biological father for the very first time seeing how he was MIA all those years prior.

Blah, blah, blah, to the point.

Tom and Kathy were still engaged when I met my dad for the first time. 6 months later they married, and I spent three weeks seeing some very interesting chaos and dysfunction in the Kathy/Tom household. They would have the most fucked up, twisted fights in front of us kids… I had two step-brothers.

There was that one time when Kathy had a bitch fit when my dad came home from work and wanted to take me out to dinner. Just me and him. For the first time since he came into my life 6 months prior. The bitch had a fucking meltdown over the mere suggestion of Tom and I getting to know each other as father and daughter.

It became a Defcon 5 and my uncle had to pick up the three of us and get us out of that insanity. All because my dad wanted to take me out to dinner.

By the time we had gotten back, things had simmered down and my step-brothers and I huddled together on the couch while the two lovebirds went at it again well into the early morning.

The three of us fell asleep on the couch and had a rude awakening the next morning. The bitch was going ballistic and my brothers and I were hiding underneath the blankets on the couch. When the soon to be newlyweds ended up in the kitchen with their fighting, dear Kathy set a fine example by picking up a knife from the counter and threatened to kill Tom. I remember peeking out from the blankets while she was waving the knife around his face.

If that’s not true love. I don’t know what is.

So, despite the relationship from hell, they actually went through with the wedding.

Dear sweet baby jeebus.

The bitch made me flower girl and by this point, I was shell-shocked from my weeks of hell with Tom and Kathy but because it was the wedding day, people mistook it for me being overcome with emotion. Yeah, it was terror and the culprits were the two people who were supposed to be somewhat sane and stable adults.

The wedding was a shit fest for me and so fake. Especially after the absolute madness I witnessed over and over again within their relationship.

Okay, it’s time to toss the bitchy bride’s bouquet. I didn’t want any part of it. Mostly, I just wanted to get away from her crazy ass. I also found that most of her friends seemed to have hit every crazy, superficial, branch on the bat shit tree. Lucky me had to stand amongst these bitches who were ready to take down anyone who got in the way of the bridal bouquet.

I put my 9 year-old ass in the back so I wouldn’t be trampled on and then the flowers were thrown. I was running away from that mess like a quarterback doing whatever the hell a quarterback does.

That’s when it happened. I accidentally caught the fucking flowers. I couldn’t care less and just wanted some cake and an escape from Kathy. Not even a minute after I caught the bouquet, the superficial bitches started to whine about how it wasn’t fair that I caught the bouquet.

Yes, really. Something about how now that the bride is officially my step-monster, it wasn’t fair that I caught the flowers and I can’t even remember their lame argument over something so petty. Things like it’s not like she’s really throwing her bridal bouquet because it’s just going back home with her since I caught it.

????????

I have no clue but they were a bunch of whiney bitches who made a HUGE fuss over this. So much so that it took away from the wedding and other guests were trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

These were supposed to be grown ass women. I just wanted to give the flowers to anyone who would take them and get myself out of that ridiculous mess. But an even bigger deal had to be made and so cunty Kathy took the flowers back from me and decided to throw them a second time so it would be “fair”.

I refused to go back in with that group of assholes but my step-mother insisted I once again join the group while she threw the bouquet… again.

Guess who caught it?

Me.

Again.

What the ever-loving fuck?

And can you guess what happened?

Yes, those bitches freaked out again and were royally pissed that I caught the bouquet for the second time.

I have to admit that I somewhat enjoyed catching it again and since I picked up such colorful language while staying with Kathy and Tom, it would have pleased me to yell out SUCK ON THAT, BITCHES!

But I didn’t and I offered to give away that damn bridal bouquet… again.

There was actually talk of Kathy throwing the flowers a third goddamn time but instead those bitches complained how a kid caught the flowers twice and WAAAAAA! It’s not fair. It made for an extra fun wedding reception.

After that came our family honeymoon type thing. They took me and my step-brothers to Disneyland and it wasn’t the happiest place on earth. Why? It’s because Tom and Kathy fought their way from the entrance to “the magical kingdom” all the way to the tea cups and space mountain and the water slide thing and you get my drift.

They were saying fuck this and fuck that and fuck you… ALL in front of families and Disneyland workers and even the mouse himself.

It’s safe to say that it will never be my dream to go to Disney world if I ever win the super bowl. I’m scarred for life from going there again.

As I got older, Kathy did super fun stuff like spend some money on clothes or gifts for me but when Tom would piss her off and they would be fighting back and forth, she would demand those things back. I had quickly learned not to accept anything from her “generosity” but just like when I was a flower girl, it wasn’t so easy to tell this woman no.

And this is the type of stuff my poor therapist has to listen to. No wonder she goes on vacation as often as she does.

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Cool Etsy Stuff

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Since I’m already doing 156 things at once, I started doing 157 things by getting more into Etsy. Like that really needed to happen. I pour over fluffy tutus and leg warmers for the hummingbird while I look for anything under the sun. Here are some things I’ve ordered from my recent Etsy obsession.

Mudan Blossoms – They have adorable leg warmers for girls.

Mimi and Lucy – Since I’ve been reading less of my Kindle and more library books, I used it as an excuse to buy these vintage print bookmarks.

Ian’s Cafe – I found THE coolest bookmark of the wicked witch from this place. The witch’s feet stick outside of the book. It’s very cool.

Grey And Green – I started off buying her lotion bar and loved it so much that I went back and ordered the vanilla bean brown sugar scrub and vanilla lip balm which smells amazing. It’s so good that my 6 year-old claimed it for herself.

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I’m Sorry I Ate Your Chips And Dip. And Drank Your Pepsi. And Didn’t Give You Any Peace And Quiet Unless I Was Unconscious.

thefirst40years

This past summer, we went camping at a cabin for four days. It may not seem like roughing it but I’m not outdoorsy so that was like being in an episode of Naked and Afraid. With the exception of the huge scare with the hummingbird’s hypoglycemia, the days prior were really nice, although being in close quarters with each other could test my patience.

I’m the type that gets drained by being around people frequently so I need to take time to recharge by myself. That’s hard to do when you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere in a small cabin.

After a few days of a lot of togetherness, I decided to stay at the cabin for the afternoon while the hummingbird and husband went swimming. When we were at the lodge picking up some overpriced items we really didn’t need, I grabbed some french onion dip and chips.

Yes, I actually have fond memories of my mom eating chips and dip. It represents me being about 10 years old during the summer, without a care in the world, playing outside for hours.

While looking back on my childhood, it seems rare that I saw my mom sitting down for long. The times I do were when she’d have some free time to just chill out with a magazine, a Pepsi (I’m a coke purist but had no control back then), and some dip with wavy Lays or ruuuuffles with riiidges. Am I the only one who remembers the ruffles with ridges commercials?

Just to be clear, I was a 10 year-old with a “my parent exists only to wait on me hand and foot” mentality. Kind of like when you realize your parent’s name is something else besides “mom” or “dad” and they actually have outside interests besides their kids wants and needs.

What kind of crazy talk is that?!

I would occasionally find her sitting in the dining room with an ice-cold Pepsi, chips and dip, and the latest gossip about Princess Diana or what kind of marriage crisis Elizabeth Taylor was in.

Because parents will forever be fucked when it comes to finding free time without their kids finding out, I felt it was my duty to sit with my mom and bug her. Not intentionally. Just because that’s what kids do best.

I would always ask her if I could have some of her chips and dip and she would never deny me. Then I’d be like “Mom? Can I please have just a tiny sip of your Pepsi? Please? Please? Please? What are you reading? Can I read it after you’re done? Which story are you on now? Elizabeth Taylor did what with who? Mom? Mom? Can I have a few more of your chips? And just another tiny sip of your Pepsi?”

Then, there was the camping trip over the summer and the several hours spent together with a lot of togetherness.

So, while I spent an hour alone that day, I enjoyed the hell out of it. And I noticed I was doing the same thing I remember my mom doing. The cabin was quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fan and I sat at the dining room table enjoying my coke, chips and dip, and reading my gossip rag, US Weekly.

I was finally relaxing for the first time on our camping trip but at the same time I had no idea when the hubby and my 6 year-old would walk through the front door and that’s when it hit me.

Oh my god. My poor mom. In her quest to find some peace and quiet from her kids, not only did I never leave her alone unless I was sleeping, all the poor woman wanted was a cold drink with some chips and dip and some celeb gossip between loads of laundry and cleaning the house and I took it from her.

I ATE IT! I ATE MY MOM’S CHIPS AND DIP!

The things moms and dads are put through that you have no idea about until you have a child can blow my mind. I had a grilled cheese for lunch recently and guess who wasn’t hungry but changed her mind upon me taking my first bite of my sandwich.

It ended up being hers, except for the crust and I didn’t say one damn word. Oh, I had plenty to think. Like “Omg, you’re taking my delicious, cheesy food and I’m STARVING!”

But on the outside, I was all “would you like me to make one for you? No? Okay. Sure, you can have half. Oh, you went through that fast. The crust? Sure, I’ll take the crust because I’m fucking hungry and you’re eating my food and not eating yours and you will never understand this until you have kids of your own and damn, that was the last, delicious, cheesy bite of my grilled cheese sandwich that you just ate.”

*When We Were On Fire

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Inconvenient

The Cycle Of Depression.

~~~~~

Things are fine.

I’ve just been feeling a little tired.

I’m so proud of my daughter and my husband seems to get me.

I’m starting classes in a few months and feeling a little nervous about my age.

I feel so old but who the hell cares.

This is big for me and I’m feeling pretty good.

But there’s a creeping sadness that I can’t seem to shake.

Maybe if I got to the gym an extra day this week, I’ll feel better.

~~~~~

I went to bed early last night but it doesn’t feel like I got much sleep.

There’s a tightness in my chest that seems to last most of the day.

There are a few times a day when I have a feeling of dread and I can’t seem to catch my breath at times because of the panic that has been seeping into me.

I want to talk about it with my husband but I know he won’t understand.

~~~~~

I don’t want to get out of bed.

I was up most of the night reading and watching Friends to take my mind off the anxiety and racing heart every time I tried to go to sleep last night.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the time I was 16 and was doing some really stupid shit.

Why couldn’t I have been a better kid?

And why did I treat my mom like shit and say what I did when I was 23?

I have no idea how I still have people in my life that deal with me.

I can be so selfish and ungrateful.

~~~~~

My classes are coming up soon.

I have no idea what I was thinking when I thought I could go back to school.

I can’t even find enough time to keep the house up and running.

I need to get more sleep but I keep waking up.

Last night I was thinking about how I yelled at my daughter that morning because we were running late for school.

That was so shitty of me.

Tonight when I was kissing her good night, she hugged me tight and told me she loved me in her sweet little voice.

Why can’t I be a better mother?

~~~~~

My husband took my daughter out ice skating Sunday morning and I slept in until 10 am.

Despite that, I’m exhausted.

I’m still not out of bed and it’s noon.

I can’t believe I didn’t go with them to watch my daughter ice skate.

She didn’t seem to mind but I should have gone anyway.

I feel like a burden.

I’m like some inconvenient thing to everyone I know.

My life doesn’t seem to be going anywhere and I shouldn’t even take those classes next month.

Nothing really matters and everything I do seems inconsequential.

~~~~~

I don’t even know why I bother.

~~~~~

My daughter read a little story she wrote this morning.

It felt nice to smile again and mean it.

I wish I could be a better mom to my sweet girl.

My husband deserves a better mother for our child.

But I know I’m doing my best.

~~~~~

I finally got more than a few hours sleep last night.

If this keeps up, maybe I can make it to the gym in a few days.

I talked with my husband about the panic attacks I was having and while he didn’t seem to get it, I feel better that I said something.

~~~~~

I was in the kitchen this afternoon and turned on some music.

It felt good to dance around the kitchen and have a little fun.

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Sexy Real Estate

sexy-real-estate

My husband is leaving the military next summer so we have a lot to figure out. What the hell is he going to do when he grows up… where are we going to make our permanent home, etc. A few weeks ago we decided to go to an open house to get an idea of what houses are available here.

What we weren’t expecting is that there’s a whole world of real estate that’s sexy. Very sexy. Rawr!

I’ve never been a fan of things like open houses since they seem so unnatural. Just like going to buy a new household appliance. Some places actually leave you alone but other places are ready to pounce on you in seconds. When we walked into the open house, we were greeted by a nice woman who laid it on thick from the get go.

She saw the hummingbird and told us we could give her whatever she wants from the assortment of goodies the agent brought. The bird decided on a bag of peanut m n m’s which once she opened, flew all over the nice brand spankin’ new kitchen floor with several loud ping, ping, pings.

I apologized and stuffed the ones from the floor into my purse, which I’m still finding, while the hummingbird munched on the few that didn’t fall on the floor. The real estate agent, still laying it on thick, kept telling my husband we’re more than welcome to have any refreshments that we want. The hubby and I later joked about what her reaction would have been if I just took my purse over to the counter, dumped the contents on the counter into my purse, and said “Okay, thanks! See ya!”

While our 6 year-old was seeing how many closets she could walk inside, the agent was talking more details about the house and the new neighborhood it was in. She told us this is the new Maine sexy real estate. The old sexy real estate just isn’t as sexy.

My husband and I turned to each other and shared a ‘what the fuck?’ look while suppressing giggles. After more sexy talk, she asked us what we think. I was trying not to pee my pants while wondering if I was being Punk’d. We told her it was a very nice house and she said “It’s so sexy though, isn’t it?” Umm, um, yeah.

Instead of running to the front door of this very sexy house, we decided to finish looking. Well, that and the hummingbird was still going throughout the house and stepping into the closets. I’m sorry. My bad. I mean the sexy closets of the new sexy house.

A few more people were coming in at that point so we made our escape. And that’s when my husband and I spent the drive home laughing our asses off about the sexy real estate agent.

My husband’s favorite part was that the older woman gave him a handful of cards. He can call her any time he wants to see something sexy.

Unfortunately, that house just wasn’t the new sexy we were looking for but there’s still time to find that oh so very sexy house.

*JT

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I’m So Relaxed By The End Of Yoga Class. Then I Have To Go Home. Damn It.

yoga-om

Since I’m so shy in public situations, I never would have believed I would have joined an exercise class. But, I have tried so many different things to try and keep my anxiety in check with some improvements here and there but nothing that made a big enough difference.

Since my husband got stationed here a few years ago, I’ve had my eye on taking a yoga class but always felt too self-conscious. I finally said fuck it, who cares, and signed up for a beginning yoga class that lasted several weeks, If you don’t have much experience with anxiety and panic attacks, it may not seem like a big thing to do something as simple as that but it’s huge for me. I was so nervous and worried about being in a class full of people.

It took some time but I found that surprisingly, I really like the group exercise class better than using dvd’s at home and I felt more inspired to keep up with it.

I found by the end of my second class, it did wonders for my anxiety and I felt like a dumb ass for not embracing yoga much sooner. I haven’t been practicing it much since the beginner class ended but really need to push myself to add yoga into my life more often.

My yoga classes were 90 minutes and truth be told, it took a good half hour before I could finally quiet my mind and actually focus on the now, of being mindful… and it felt good not having so much worry stuck in my head.

But there was some evil that came with my 12 week yoga course. The class was at 6 pm and despite having a light snack beforehand, it took all the focus in the world at times because there was a Chinese restaurant below the yoga studio so all of us would be smelling the deliciousness rising up to our 3rd floor studio. Egg rolls, fried rice, garlic chicken, oh my.

The most amazing part of the yoga class was towards the end of each session when we would spend time relaxing. By then, over an hour had already gone by and I was pretty much in the awesome yoga zone where no matter what life threw at me, it would all still be good. That’s just damn crazy because I don’t ever think that way. Me, optimistic? What?

The class would end but all I wanted to do was stay lying on my mat and spend the night since I was in such a relaxed state. That should be a thing if it isn’t already. Yoga class slumber parties. You wouldn’t have to deal with all the crazy shit awaiting your arrival at home.

After every class, I would take my sweet time walking to my car and driving home since I loved the feeling of my yoga high. I’d pull into the driveway and slide out of the seat of my car, then slowly walk up to the front door of my house, still in a very relaxed state.

My mistake was opening the front door and expecting to let myself settle for a bit while I changed my clothes and ate a late dinner. Instead, I had my daughter run up to me saying “Mom? Mom?? Mommy?? I hurt my toe earlier. I didn’t like what dad made for dinner. Will you please read to me? Am I having hot lunch or cold lunch tomorrow? What are you making me for a snack? Can I have a playdate with Kiki tomorrow?”

Agghhh!

And my husband would bombard me with a play by-play of the 1 1/2 hours that I was gone for class. I was glad they missed me but holy fucking fuck. Give a mom a damn minute. I just wanted to pee and change clothes and heat up dinner when I first got home.

Finally, with food in my stomach, I could handle the “mom? mom? mom?” from my daughter and “Elle? Hey, Pookie?” questions from my husband but unfortunately, my relaxed and groovy namaste would vanish a few minutes after walking into my house.

And this is why there needs to be yoga class slumber parties. Someone get on that!

In case you’re wondering because I know you’re not but I’ll tell you anyway, I only succumbed to the Chinese restaurant once. That was surprising since there were plenty of times when I would be in warrior pose or downward facing dog with my stomach growling over the amazing smells from the restaurant, and would seriously consider ditching the rest of the class to stuff my face.

The food ended up being just as delicious as it smelled. Now, if they decide to put a donut shop next to the gym I started going to over the summer, I’m fucked. I can just see myself in spinning class, holding a box of a dozen donuts, getting Boston cream all over the handlebars.

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Hola!

Long time, no see. I took an unexpected break since I went into an awful funk back in March. Depression pretty much body slammed me and put me in a headlock for a bit. It was being such a dick but I’m slowly climbing out of the hole I was in.

With my 6 year-old being on summer break and the chaos of moving last month and endless unpacking, I haven’t had much time… to pull my ass away from marathons of The Walking Dead and the delicious show, UnReal.

I’m hoping to get back into the swing of things once the hummingbird goes back to school in a few weeks. When she started kindergarten last year, I was freaking the hell out because Oh my god, my baby is growing up!!! But now, I’m counting down the days until she starts 1st grade.

I want to break out the hard liquor, get some glow sticks, and have myself a dance party on that glorious day.

Who am I kidding? I’m going to cry like a fucking baby because Oh my god, my baby is growing up!!!

I came across this video with Joseph Gordon-Levitt and it is glorious. “I’m sorry I ruffled your duvet but I had to work on that bootay”.

Enjoy!

What were you up to this summer? Has your sanity been hanging by a thread from summer vacation?

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