Long, Wild, Crazy Ride

I realized a few minutes ago that, while today has a special significance for being Father's Day, it also bares a slightly stronger significance for my own life...two years ago today I though my world was completely over.

I thought there was no way I would ever recover from the feeling of betrayal that enveloped me like a large woman crushing me against her chest-hot, suffacating, and wholey unwelcome. 

 I never thought to ever have another Father's Day go by without acutly feeling what I had lost for my children, namely a Father of their very own. Yes, I said what I had lost them.

You see, although I had been miserable for longer than I dare even admit, I felt it was my duty to my children to keep the family together because it was not their fault that I was unhappy. He seems contented enough and the children were happy enough. I accepted that obviously it was just my own problem that I was desperately unhappy and unsatisfied with my lot in life. Why should I shake up my babies' lives for soemthing that was purely me?

After the insident in question, I spent some time contemplating how I was too blame for it. That obviously my dissatisfacion in my marriage caused me to become a sub-par wife and lead him down a path which lead directly to adultery...Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.  

I do, in fact, take respoinsibility for my failings in my first marriage, because I did certianly have some, but I no longer take total responsibility. I have not for some time actually. Thankfully.

However, it does color my current relationship some, as I'm sure MAT's failed relationship with his son's mom colors his time with me. Again, thankfully, it colors it in the best way possible because we have learned to appricate the good things and call out the questionsable things early.

While I have always felt blessed to have such a wonderful Dad, I can now say that my children are equally blessed becuase this man who has inherited the title to Dad takes it very seriously. He is everythig I could want in ta Father for them and loves them completely and eats up each time the call him "Dad" and each time they proudly use a Spanish word.

My world that so easily shattered two years ago, has risen like a Phoenix and it now as it should be...full of love, laughter, and family.

Living in Paradise

So last week I made the first portion of "the move" this past weekend.

It has been a week and I can safely say that I have never felt more relaxed, or at least I don't remember a time when I was more relax and comfy. I really tought there would be a big adjustment period or that perhaps he would change his mind after living with us.

As it turns out, he is even more amazing than I knew. Because of his calm nature and the fact he is a phenom Dad, my kids are sleeping in their beds each night without complaint AND taking naps each afternoon. (Who are these kids and where did mine go. I don't really want them back, I just want to keep tabs on the little critters.)

There have been so many times when I have fought bursting into tears. Not because I'm sad, but because I can't believe I am so lucky. My kids are curling up with him and calling him Daddy (or Popi thanks to Dora) and his son is calling me Mom. Just thinking about them all running around on the pitch running and kicking the soccer ball around brings tears to my eyes right now. It's so natural and so amazing...there are no words, guys. There just aren't.

Anyway, I have to admit that it's going so well, the dark part of my brain has begun to try to sabotage me. At night, as this beautiful man is cuddled up next to me, holding my hand in his sleep, it begins to whisper, "Are you kidding me? How can this man, who is so sweet and patient and caring (not to mention hawt!) actually be in love with you? Do you remember being married to the "good enough"guy that decided that sex with other people was perfectly ok? What are you thinking girl?!"

Now I am lucky enough to be able to discuss this with people who can smack the darkness out of my head and then there is the lightness I feel when I tell MAT my fears. Having gone through a nasty break up with D's mom he understands, but there is something about being Colombian that makes me take things in stride and not dwell on the darkness in life. Ok, it might be genetic, but I still think it might be cultural.

I am determined to take each day and appreciate the hell out of it. 

Mi Amorcito

When I first saw this man back in October, I remember thinking that there was no way in hell he'd ever be actually interested in me. Just no damn way, people.  He's almost three years younger with three percent body fat and totally yummy. (I mean the accent alone, guys!) What in hell can I offer this man?!?!

Obviously a lot as it turns out because he has chosen me. Shut the Front DooR!!!

And better than that...he is all about me begin as girly as I absolutely want to be. In fact, he encourages me to get my nails done. I asked him if he thought it was a stupid expense and he replied, "Are you going to get them redone every 3 days?"

"Well, no; that's just silly."

"Then there is nothing wrong with you needing to get your nails done. It makes you feel good."

Sorry girls, he's all mine.

He is encouraging my weight loss and reminding me to eat (he used to check that I ate breakfast every day until it became a habit), but not because I'm big; because, "The kids and I need you around a long time, baby." I must say it's easy to eat well around him because he eats so well. Fruit, vegetables, rice, protien, smoothies...he likes good fod, but it isn't a NEED for him. Food fuels his body; it's not something he lives for.

Hummm...What a novel concept.

Actually, he asked me what I thought the other day because he was afraid he is getting too skinny. I told him that I would fatten him up soon enough with some good Southern cooking, but I wouldn't change a single thing about him. I have seriously never thought hip bones were sexy on a man until recently. Wow. Really.

Anyhoooooooo....

I feel myself blossoming under his light. I can remember once liking the feeling of being girly and feminine, but I stopped because it became passe'. I love the feeling of wearing dresses and feeling pretty...and I do. Where a majority of my life I always felt my weight (regardless of what I weighed) and felt awkward in pretty clothes because I didn't think I was pretty enough to wear pretty clothes.

For some reason I thought that pretty clothes highlighted my lack of pretty by drawing attention to myself instead of helping me become prettier. I know I'm not crazy and other people have felt the same way...right?

Now, as I stand beside him, I feel like the most beautiful girl in the room. Seriously. I do not notice who is prettier or skinnier or has a cuter outfit; I just focus on us and how good I feel around him. It's like the huge mountain of uncertainty disapears and I can finally relax into my skin. I have more fun. I smile more. I laugh more. I stress less. I fidget less. (This is HUGE in itself!) And all of these things are felt both with and without kids. I am as relaxed with all 3 kids as I am with just us 2. He just lets me be me and really loves it.

My cousin commented months ago that it was true love becasue I said I felt skinny around him. It's true. I do. I'm am never self conscious of my weight around him and when I've said I could wear something I've seen in a store window he has just looked at me oddly and said, "Why?" Like the fact that I'm probably around 70 pounds overweight has never really occured to him.

God, I love that Latin men like women with meat on their bones. Because while I may never lose all of this 70 pounds (even though I'm really trying and it's decreasing sssslllowllllyyyyyyy), he will still think I'm just as beautiful at a smaller size as he does right now. I mean...I'm going to get nothing but better!

Hell, I may be freaking impossible to live with by the time I lose a bit more weight. 


For example, I bought a dress on a whim. I thought it was pretty, but I would have NEVER even attempted to wear at any other time in my life...even when I was in college! But I bought this cute, lilac colored, strapless dress with ruffled tiers. (see below)

 I wore it out the other night with a little black shrug and wedge heels with black flowers onteh strapes and his eyes bugged out of his head. "Baby, this dress this dress!!! You look georgous!! Where did you get this dress!"

Don't ask me what anyone else was wearing that night. And don't bother asking his what anyone else was wearing because he proudly held onto me the entire night. I felt like a queen. I fetl like no one has ever made me feel before...I felt like my Pop finally wasn't full of total shit for the past 33 years...I felt beautiful.

Holy shit...I guess I am beautiful after all.  :)

Happiness Recipe a'la Blake

Because I am a huge, phenomenal dork, I randomly search for cool quotes to use for my FaceBook statuses. I figure that everyone can only hear about my love of wine, the potty train status of my children, or the general progress of my day for so long before they just reaaaally don't giveafuck...plus, there are times when I just bored myself. I mean, I look at the things I've written and all I can think is, "Damn you are one sad, no-life having, super boring broad, aren'tcha McCarty? Wow!"

Hence the quotes that try to explain my random moods much more eloquently than I am able to do on the fly. (Ok, so if I tried I probably could, but it's FB people. Do I really need to put that much thought into it?)

The William Blake quote I found today may actually stay up for a while because it instantly made my mind begin to spin with ideas and possibilities...

The essentials to happiness are something to love, something to do, and something to hope for.

After thinking about it I think I'll make a list of each, almost list a list of blessings, except this is more like a recipe for Blake's  Happiness....(I do SO love a list)

Something to Love? My children. My family. My friends. My job(s). Coffee. Sparkly anything. Fresh flowers. The sound of my babies' laughter. Cuddling, kisses, and hugs. Daydreaming. Getting texts that make me smile. Sunsets. (I probably love Sunrises too, but I'm not a fan or being awake for them.) Jangly bracelets. Cooking meals that happily fill tummies. Singing in the car. Hearing my kids sing. The size of my clothes slowly decrease. Bright colors. Toile.  

Something to Do? Attempt sewing. Teach (sometimes) willing minds. Cause spontaneous smiles to erupt from those around me when I smile. Make jokes. Play outside with my kids.  Wander voyeuristicly around FaceBook. Read almost everything I can get my hands on-whenever possible. Avoid unpleasantness, maybe a bit too much. Work on my WIP. Daydream. Search for my place in the world. Work towards my dreams. make the clothing size decrease more quickly.

Something to Hope For? Winning the mystery Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, like they swear I will. Looking into the future and not feeling a cool line of fear slide down my spine. Text messages that make me smile. The day my 3 person family lives on our own. Finishing my WIP. Finding an agent. Finding my own little place in the world. Sailing on a Disney cruise. Traveling far and wide. Making my daydreams a reality. My kids to have a dad. Remarrying. My clothes being in single digits.

While I'm sure my lists will shrink and swell with each passing day and moment, but as of right now...that's all I got...And from the look of it, I got quite alot to be happy about.   

What's y'all's recipe?

A Little Misty

Every morning and every afternoon I fall juuuust a little more in love with this guy I see while I'm driving to T's school. So, perhaps I'm not in love with him because I have no clue who is is (although I know where he lives). Seriously, I am only slightly exaggerating, because I think is just wonderful.

Ok, so let me just tell the story...

My normal route to the school takes me by Reserrection Elementary school and each morning I pass by a Dad (whom I lovingly refer to as Ultimate Dad) in some stage of walking his two children to school. I first noticed them leaving their house, which is just down from the school, with him pulling a little red wagon. I thought it was absolutly the cutest thing I had ever seen in my life. 

Since that first day I have seen them pretty much every morning. And to make matters even worse on my particular little, tender heart, I saw him walking the kids back from school this afternoon. I swear my eyes teared up and I sighed over the Ultimate Dad. Now, this is the part where I tell you that other than the bit of white in his hair, I have absolutly no clue what this man looks like. I only know that he's average height and has what looks to be a second grader and a preschooler.  Actually, not really him so much as the idea of him. The idea of the dad who walks his children to and from school (I think he works from home) just squeezes my chest until tears pop up. I SO desperatly want that for my kids.

I mean, I didn't think about them when I got married and they ended up with someone who woud have either found 10,000 excuses to NOT do it or only go with a beer in hand. While I never, never, never in a million years would ever, ever, ever, ever, ever want my ex back, I can't help but morn what I wasn't able to give them-an Ultimate Dad.  *sniff

However, I want to take a moment to thank Ultimate Dad and other Dads of his ilk for being phoneminal dads. I'm sure there are times when you may not be appriciated as you should, but know that your job is amazingly important. I thank you for you give me hope.

(And Moms married to these Dad's, please know that I am sinfully envious of you. Whenever you get a bit fed up with his shenanigans, remember how lucky you are to have a real dad for your precious children. Not all of were so lucky.)

Soap Box Over!

Thank you and Good Night.