Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The BEST people I know....









My Aunt Julie, and my Mom Nancy. These are two of the most awesome women you can ever imagine. Women in our family seem to have been blessed with having pretty crappy things happen to us. With out going into details, almost all of us have been through a lot of really bad stuff. But My Aunt Julie, she's always smiling, and Mom is always there for anyone who needs her. I know that I don't know what I'd do with out either of them in my life.

For a long time, Julie lived far away with her husband Butch (aka Jackson Guice famous Comic Book Artist) and their incredibly wonderful daughter "The Beth". She's so wonderful she deserves a The in front of her name, because she is The One and Only. This past summer, they came "home". My Aunt Julie now lives two blocks away from me, and I can hardly remember a time when she wasn't near. It's almost like something was missing before, and now it's not. I know my Mom feels the same way.

Recently, Julie gave one of her kidneys to my Uncle Bob. (Also another wonderful person who I love very much). I just can't tell you how proud I am of her. Not everybody would do that, but she did, without a second thought. When I think of Aunt Julie I think of a big giant bear hug and loud contagious laughter that fills me with joy.


My Mama. Where do I begin? She just is awesome. She's been a mother to so many more people than just her kids. She'd do anything for anyone and has proven that time and time again. She's always shown me nothing but love and is proud of me, despite all the crap I've managed to screw up in my life. We were dirt poor growing up, especially after she left my biological father. He was a piece of crap who did more damage to people who he supposedly loved than you would think is humanly possible. Anyway, even though we didn't have much, I never cared. It never really bothered me, as long as we had her. She made sure we had what we needed, and worked hard to keep us safe. She would tell me over and over again, "Yes Jessie, everything is going to be all right" and she never got frustrated with me, even though it was the 20th time I would have asked her in 20 minutes. To this day, I'll ask her if everything is gonna be OK, and she tells me it will be, without complaint. And when she tells me, I believe her.

OK guys, that's my sap for the day. Actually, that's enough sap for the next several weeks. Don't know what made me get all mushy like that but it's creeping me out.

I love you guys!

-Jess

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Some of my favorite pics











Many of you may know, that I LOVE to take pictures, more than anything I think. There's something great about capturing a moment on film, especially those unguarded moments of children. I'm including a few of my favorites. I have a ton more, and when I get the chance I'll go through them and post them. Hope you enjoy.

-Jess

Bag of Jelly Beans

Hello all 4 of you who read my blog! I hope all is right in your world today. Mine, not so much, but that is just the way it is. It could be worse, I guess. I used to work with a lady who would tell me that on a regular basis, only she would kind of sing it in this really irritating Glenda-The-Good-Witch kind of way. I really wanted to punch her.

But, it could be worse. I'm divorced, that sucks, but i wanted the divorce, so i can't really complain too much. My kids are ten times happier now then they were before, and my ex really loves his kids. We have shared parenting, which sucks in one major way, I miss the kids terribly when they're at their dads for a few days. But, he is an equal partner in the parenting department and the kids love him. I remember once, a week after Gracie was born, my friend Gina came over to visit. She and i were sitting downstairs and I noticed that Max, who was 2 and 1/2 at the time, had produced some very foul smelling toxic waste in his diaper. I asked Andy if he could bring me a diaper and some wipes, instead he brought down the diaper and proceeded to change Max. Gina was in SHOCK. You would have thought she'd just witnessed a miracle, or had a vision of the Virgin Mary. She looked at me and said that her ex would have NEVER EVER done anything like that. She couldn't believe a man actually changed a diaper. And when i told her that he did the laundry and the dishes, AND cleaned the toilet, i think she may have "crossed over' for a minute or two and may have even seen the Face of God. I was in shock. I couldn't understand not sharing the responsibility of your kids with your partner. I was very lucky, and still am, even though we are not together. Andy is married again and has a beautiful son named Gabe and he's happy. I'm so glad for him, but I'll admit I'm a teeny bit jealous, not jealous as in i want to be with him, jealous that he has found someone to share his life with and has a cute as a button baby, since we're being honest. So yeah, it could be worse, i know i know.

So on to a new topic. A bag of jelly beans. That's what I've decided Grace is going to be for Halloween. At first she was mad, because of course she wanted to be a princess, or Hanna Montana. But you know what, A bag of jelly beans costs about 2 bucks, and the princess/Hanna Montana monstrosity would probably end up costing me 30. When i was young, we were flat broke, and none of our costumes were ever store-bought. My Mom made them all and i wish I had some pictures to post of my brothers and sister and I. We had some fun with those costumes. My brothers were a pair of dice one year, made from two cardboard boxes and some paint. My sister was Raggedy Anne, sewn by my mom out of old pieces of fabric and material lying around, and me? I was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (foam and some felt) one year, and a bag of jelly beans another. These are just a few examples, i could go on and on, and i know you don't want me to do that.

I can't tell you how excited I am to make Grace a bag of jelly beans, to live vicariously through my daughter via her Halloween costume. I've got the clear plastic bag at the ready, but for some reason i haven't been able to find the stupid small balloons needed to fill it with. I've got a ribbon to use at the top and some very cute multicolored tights, but i can't find the DAMN balloons. I need the little ones, kind of like water balloons. Well duh, not kind of like water balloons, i need water balloons. But don't worry, they'll be filled with air, not water. Why am i saying all of this? I just realized this is totally pointless and not in the least bit interesting to read. But, since very few people read my blog, i guess it's OK. I think I probably re-read it more than anyone actually reads it anyway. Yet another example of how sad my life is. (totally joking, sort of)

By the way, I'm not sure Grace really wants to be a bag of jelly beans, but guess who doesn't care? ME!

hehehehehehe (evil genius laugh)

-Jess

Monday, October 20, 2008

Don't have much to say today

Wish I had a funny story to tell, but today, my brain is just mush. I think I'm developing a cold or a sore throat or something. I feel like poop. I'm ready to go home and lay down in my bed for the remainder of the day. In fact, i was ready to do just that about 5 hours ago, 2 minutes after i got here.

I watched the movie The Happening last night. It was all right, i didn't think it really had too much of an impact on me, but OH BOY, the dreams i had last night were crazy. It started out with a young guy who was 21 who i was "dating", my Mom was yelling at me, telling me how wildly inappropriate it was. I was yelling back, telling her I loved him, then we ran away and got married. Then I'm fast forwarded about 10 years, and I'm back and married to this guy, and we have a son. I don't know where Max and Grace were. Anyway, we have this kid, who's about a year old and as cute as a button, but my "husband" has started losing his mind. Something starts happening like what happened on the movie. It was just chaos. We were trying to run from this thing that was going on, and he was waving around a gun and throwing bullets at people. But the funniest part was that i kept thinking how good the sex was and I wish he wasn't going loony. I can't remember what he looked like, just that I wanted to do it with him and was bummed because I couldn't do it with a crazed lunatic waving a gun around.

Weird huh?

OK, maybe i did have more to say than I thought. That tends to happen to me, I start typing and out comes the babbling.

-Jess

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Boogers

Can i ask a question? Well, that's not really a questions because I'm going to ask it anyway.

Why in the world do women; educated, well dressed, well paid, seemingly normal women insist on wiping their boogers on the walls in the bathroom stalls at my work?! I can't tell you the number of times I've sat down to "do my business" and I look over to find a nice large chunk of a crusty booger smeared across the side of the wall, two inches away from a toilet paper roll! TWO INCHES! COME ON! I'm talking BIG, and HARD, and probably so sharp that it could probably cut through someone's jugular if you're not careful.

I know we all do things in private that we wouldn't do in public. Everybody picks their nose. Everybody poops, and farts, and burps and scratches the crack of their ass when they think no one is looking. But for the Love of God, please please please, if you're gonna pick your nose, PUT IT IN A TISSUE, A PIECE OF TOILET PAPER, FLUSH IT DOWN THE TOILET! Just please don't wipe that nasty little hunk of nasal secretion on the wall for all to enjoy. Because I'm telling you, we don't enjoy it.

-Jess

The Tooth Fairy


Yesterday in the car on the way to dropping the kids off at school, Max and Grace were having a discussion about the Tooth Fairy. Max had lost a tooth and forgotten to check under his pillow before leaving for school. He made me promise not to touch his pillow, that if I made his bed I wouldn't move the pillow. (Make his bed?! Yeah Right!) Well, i promised i wouldn't touch his pillow so that his payment from the Tooth Fairy for his mangled, crusty, dirty little tooth would still be there when he got home.

Gracie, who is 6 and sometimes wise beyond her years, pipes up with her own thoughts. She said, "it doesn't really matter Max, because the parents are the one's who put the money under the pillows, they're really the Tooth Fairy." Max, was of course mortified, probably near tears trying to argue this with her. I asked her who had told her that, and she said "no one Mom, I just thought of it in my own brain (in her own brain!?), and it makes sense". "I just know it", she said. Well, it's hard to argue with that.

A Question.... Why do we, insist on telling our kids all these little "white lies" about fairies and Big Jolly Fat Men and Easter Bunnies on Growth Hormones? I'm not at all saying there is anything wrong with it. I loved the fantasy of knowing that Santa Clause would be sneaking in my house at any moment and if i could just stay awake for two more minutes, maybe I'd hear him, or catch a glimpse. Then waking up at 4 in the morning to the sound of Bing Crosby playing loudly on the record player, because that's what Santa like to put on before he left. The idea that my parents could possibly afford to do all of that just wasn't even an option, it had to be Magic.

I also remember the day my Mom told me the dreaded truth. I cried like i had just lost my dearest friend, while my sister snickered and tried not to fall out of her chair laughing in the next room. But luckily, my parents, especially my Dad, are still kids at heart, and even though we knew the truth about all the magical things we'd grown up believing in, they made sure there was still magic in our house. In fact, my father, to this day, insists that Santa Clause is real, and you know what, I'm inclined to believe in him too.

So, what to do? I've got a 6 year old who very obviously knows there isn't a tooth fairy, and will probably very soon make the connection to Santa and the Easter bunny as well. But, I've got an 8 year old son, tender-hearted and lovely, who will probably be crushed, just like I was, to find out the "truth".

This is going to be an interesting Christmas :)

-Jess

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

My FIRST broken heart at 30 years old!

Jeez do I miss him! For any of you who don't know (that would be just about EVERYBODY), i have a broken heart. I'm almost 31 years old, have two kids, one apartment, and am lacking one very major thing, HIM. He's gone. And I'm broken.

Let me start at the beginning, sort of......

I was married at 20, divorced at 27, and HIM came along around the time of my divorce. From the moment i saw him look up at me and grin, i was a goner. But, for all kinds of stupid reasons, we couldn't ever really make things work the way they were supposed to. Mostly due to third and fourth parties in the relationships (my ex, his HER) and so on and so forth. About two months ago, everything just stopped. Things started getting really hairy with him and a custody fight, and a lost job, (and all kinds of other fun stuff I won't mention), and I was sort of "let go". It just stopped, no texting, no calling, nothing. He's going through a horrible time (at least I think he is) and I guess I was the one thing he could cut out to make life easier.

I'm struggling. I loved him, and still do, with my whole heart. I've never had a broken heart before. I loved my ex-husband in a sort of brotherly-buddy type of way. I'd never loved anyone the way I loved/love HIM. I'm 31 years old and this is my first broken heart and it SUCKS. I pray for him, pray that he's ok. Then I'm mad at him for just leaving me out in the cold like this. I wonder if he ever really loved me at all? How could he have loved me, because it was so easy for him to just forget me.

I still cry everyday. It's been two months and I'm still crying every day. Some days are better than others, some days are worse. I see myself as the old crazy cat lady that all the neighborhood kids run screaming from. Someone will call Health Services or Animal Control because of the smell emanating from my tiny little shack and the cats pooping in every body's yard. And as they wheel me away, I'll still be crying over HIM. URGH.

I think about trying to talk to him all the time. I think about ways i could make him talk to me. I think about calling him and telling him I'm voting for Obama, that would really fire him up. :) I've still got a lot of his stuff. Maybe I'll call him and tell him I'm going to sell it all and keep the money to buy hookers. Maybe I'll burn it. I can't bring myself to empty his drawer, or stop sleeping on his side of the bed. I'm just at a loss. I'm just trying to get through my days. One foot in front of the other.

Thank GOD for my kids. They keep me going. Keep me breathing. Keep me from just collapsing and dying right there on the floor. They've seen me cry, and i know they're sick of it. I can't sniff with out one of them saying "Jeez Mom! Are you crying AGAIN?". Poor guys. They're so good to me. When I can't stop from crying in front of them, they're right there, patting my back and giving me a hug, telling me it's ok, he'll come back one day.

They miss him too. Grace has taken to wearing HIS t-shirt as a night gown, and Max will snuggle up on the couch with HIS hoodie to watch tv. But boy are they handling it soooo much better than I am.

I know it's probably stupid, and the 2 people who might actually read this blog are probably shaking your heads in disgust, but I'm still waiting for him. I still love him, and still have a little bit of faith that he'll come back to me, all better and all of his problems solved. I know it's a long shot, but for right now, it's what keeps me going.

You know what? I think I like this blogging thing.

I gotta go now. Gotta go see if my favorite blog, Dooce.com, has written anything new to lift my spirits.

Keep fightin' the good fight, and hug the one you love a little extra tighter tonight. Tell him/her you love them, and be glad.