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.  :)

On Love

People talk about love all the time. In fact, we probably over used the word; after all can we really love everything we claim to love?


If I say I love a movie or a song or a pair of shoes,  does it take away the meaning from when I say I love my children? It's different, of course, but is it possible to love a person and a pair of shoes the same amount, but on different planes?

I ask because, like most girls, I really expected love to be this amazing force that spun me around and made me see the world in a totally different way. Something huge and overwhelmingly powerful that takes your breath away. Now did I feel that about "whatshisname"? No, but by point I didn't figure it was physically possible for me to fall in love and I was using a mini-checklist to find the perfect guy. (The reason I didn't think I could actually feel love is for another post because, truthfully, I have NO idea where that idea came from.)

However, the love I feel for my children isn't even that crazy, powerful way. It's much more  of a quiet feeling that ebbs higher at certain times, but it's always there. It's not even something I'm concious of; it almost feels like another appendage-it's just there. Is that what actual love, like romantic love, feels like too?

I mean I always thought I was very much an Elinore, but I'm thinking maybe I've been a Marianne all along, but tried to force myself into Elinore's shoes. (Note-If you have neither read or seen the Emma Thompson version of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austin you will just not understand that statement no matter how hard I try to expalin it.)

I mean, how much have the lines, "Can the soul really be satisfied with such polite affections? To love is to burn, to be on fire. Like Juliet or Guinevere or Eloise." always resonated with my heart? But that would be infatuation woudn't it? A blaze that fades and fizzles as time rides by and eventually leaves you shivering. Perhaps, instead, it is a slow, quite smolder that, much like the love I have for the kids, flares and burns at times and then dies back into something comforting and manageable, easy to maintain. Is that really it? I know most of you are married, faithful few? Is that really what it is? Have I finally unlocked some mystery that has puzzled me for 32 years?

Is the true fairy tale just being happy to smile into the eyes for someone else for years?

These are things I need answered guys...come on. I need a bit of help here.

Taking Responsibility

It's been a year now. A year since my marriage ended and time that I identify and take responsibility for my role in what was a "pretty on the outside and ugly on the inside" marriage.

Don't get me wrong, I certainly don't think I caused this, but I do not think I necessarily helped either. You see I had a list. Yep, a list of things that would make a good boyfriend/husband. I thought I had hit some sort of weird jackpot because he met every requirement on that list; in addition to that, he met lists that weren't on the list also. I used my head...checked off my list and pushed in my chips. Done.

What I didn't do was hand over the keys to me. I held back a small piece of myself that, truthfully, I've hidden from everyone. hell, I'd almost forgotten it was there until recently.  So, while I was throwing every once of attention, support, and loyalty into my marriage I ultimately left out two major things...love and trust. Why? Well, suffice it to say, I never really intended anyone to get them. They are messy and more likely than not, will end up exploding in your face. I thought I was safer to keep part of myself back. (Gee, no wonder I was so ecstatically happy all the time.) No shit, I thought him loving me as much as he did would be enough to carry me through life. I didn't believe in fairy tales...they just didn't happen to girls like me.

Strangely enough, as most chicks in my situation, the divorced-single Mom favor, as anti-fairy tale- No longer believing in love or anything resembling it. Me? I finally do.

Isn't that both fucked up and hilarious?!

Just when I should be raging against love, I finally think I'd like to try it. Why? I feel like I was saved from my life because something better was planned for me. I guess I prayed hard enough to God, The Universe, and every other Deity in the world that they collectively decided to give me what I least expected...happiness.

Now, I have found this happiness and love? Nope. Will I find this happiness and love? Truthfully, I don't know. I think I will, but I now know that nothing is certain in life. However, I think the greatest gift I've been given is the  realization that I short-changed myself and my ex-husband, and for that I am sorry. But I have the opportunity to make it up to myself and actually be willing to accept and give love. Will I go searching under every rock until I come find it? Will I create a page long list of requirements that this imaginary man must reach? Nope. I'm good. I did that the last time remember? I have totally learned my lesson.

Love will come to me when it does. When I have made my peace with myself, with my life, with those around me, with The Universe. How do I know this?

Because I deserve it AND because I now believe in fairy tales.

And I'm proud to say that that is the first time I have EVER been able to say that in my entire life.

Like Totally Crushing.

I think I have a crush! Now, it’s a harmless little thing that will never go anywhere-basically because the guy doesn’t know and never will- but I’m enjoying the excited bubbly feeling I get when I chat with him or he posts to my FB status. Why? Well, cause I’m a girl. I like the idea of being in like or in love. In fact, I’d have to say if I let down all of my guards I am a complete and extremely hopeless romantic. Even though my fairy tale imploded I still believe it’s possible to find another-that my terrible marriage was just the trials that all princesses must endure to find their true love.

Cinderella had the wicked stepmother and stepsisters.

Aurora had the long sleep.

Snow White had a stepmother and a long sleep.

I had Joe.

I think that’s about even.

Now you may ask, “Jamie, how exactly can you find it in yourself to still believe in happy endings and fairy tales?” Truthfully, I don’t know. I’m either crazy or just glutton for punishment, maybe I’m naive. Who knows? All I really know is that I will try again.

Hummm, maybe it’s just my competitive nature to not lose that’s making me want to find love again. I WILL win against all odds. And why not? I'm smart, relativly cute, funny, educated, fun, not to mention responsible and occasionally practical...surely I'm destined for great things?! Plus, I gotta say, I've NEVER met a Mom that didn't LOVE me!

Almost as an aside I must make a confession…I began writing this last night and when I awoke this morning I experienced the most terrifying, gut-wrenching, out of control combination of fear and anger directed towards the idea of love. It washed over me and called me “stupid” for even considering someone who could love me. How could I trust after barely living through the ultimate betrayal? How was someone going to fall in love with me when my husband hadn't even loved me or at least loved me enough to forsake all others? What in the name of hell was I thinking?

And then…the nice guy chatted with me and made me smile.

Maybe I’m just completely insane?!

Once upon a time there was a little girl who believed in fairy tales. She sought out her Prince in every venue in each face, only to find herself disapointed each time. In fact, she searched so often and so completely she forgot she was part of the equation. Oops!

So this is where my story begins-a failed fairy tale.

Since I was 17, I've continuously been in a relationship, but with the demise of my marriage I've decided to take stock of myself and try to rememeber what makes Jamie click.

• What do I love?
• What do I hate?
• What are my dreams?
• What do I want from life and from myself?
• What do I belive?
• Where do I want to be?

and when I am ready...What do I want in a man?