Non-mushy Catch Up

I know that I've had a WHOLE lot to say about my Colombian and not so much to say about anything else lately. Sorry about that. Since I'm spending my weekend sans soccer player, I will take this time to fill all of you guys in on the goings on of me. 

The biggest thing would be my new job.  Can I just tell you guys how surprised I am that I actually like teaching Jr. High? Seriously. The seventh graders are just cute and still easily molded into whatever I want. I have NEVER been so "yes ma'am ed" in my life. I'm also lucky that I like my boss. He is a super principal and when he says, "Do whatever you feel like you need to do and I will back your play" I absolutely believe him. Love it!

I'm struggling with the idea of "where will I or should I be" still. or maybe it's again. No, no. I think it is still.  Since my job is only until May I am a bit worried about where I will be next year. Now, my boss's secretary has already voiced her opinion on the matter and wants me at Magnolia next year. While I'm down for that, I also hear there will be openings at JC in the English department, which is actually my total dream job. OK, after being a full time writer or just a person who gets paid insanely obscene amounts of money to read books all day, that is. Anyway, I've wanted to end up at a juco since I was a juco student back-in-the-day. I mean, it's more freedom that high school, but no "publish or perish" pressure. It's the perfect happy medium!

There are two things that totally poo-poo on those two ideas...ONE: I never wanted to ever live in this God forsaken town and area again (To those from this are, sorry, but I have to be honest. I hated growing up here).  TWO: the whole issue of being 3 hours from this certain beautiful and amazingly sexy Colombian (Sorry, I guess he HAD to make an appearance. I mean, if we always live 3 hours away from each other will we ever progress past the "rose colored glasses" phase and into reality? For real, guys, he thinks I'm funny and perfect so reality has just NOT set in at all; plus, I'm still waiting for something to be wrong with him. Well, something other than him thinking I'm funny and perfect. ;)  ).

Of course, I still feel all shaky after last year's total FUBAR set of interviews where I wasn't able to score a single job. That just can't happen this year!!! I will NOT live with the parents for another year. I just won't. I need to detox and reprogram my children. I need to find my bearings as a mother and an independent woman again. Plus, let's all be honest here, I'm ready to not feel like a total loser because I'm 33 years old and live with my freaking parents. I also need a bit of space from MJ. Really.

While I have decided to litter the world with my resume from the Coast, across LA (lower Alabama), west Florida, and north to the Atlanta area. Good grief, some great job should be available to me with all of those places covered. Right?

I did apply for a very cool juco job pre-Colombian and it would be even cooler to get it now since I'd be so close to him with that job. We will just have to see what shakes out. I must say that my frugal (cheap) side feels the most comfortable with the coastal jobs so I can live in this house for all but free. (Pop is retiring in August and will move him and MJ somewhere, but where jut depends on what he plans to do.) But that still make me a bit blech because of the whole distance thing. Here again, I'm still thinking that whatever will be will be. Right?! I mean, at least there would be room for him and D to come for the weekend and hang out with us. OK, I'm stopping. I have to stop. I just can't think about it right now because it's silly.

Anyway...I guess the moral of the story is that I am begin proactive in finding my place in the world, but I'm still totally unsure of where it is. However, at least I'm more willing to look now and I will have some money saved up so the idea of moving doesn't make me half as queasy as it did last year.

Light your candles fellas. Say a few prayers. Throw some salt. Or feel free to engage in any other Deity inspiring activity that will send positive energy and vibes my way. Please and thank you in advance. 

This is what happens when I can't sleep...

I will regret this in the morning without a doubt. While my red, unfocused eyes stare blankly at my bouncing children I will think back on how I was not able to sleep and seriously regret not forcing myself to sleep.

Perhaps my mind keeps drifting forward a day to my first day of work where I will know no one....and I have to do a district inservice to boot. And, did I mention that said inservice is at the high school where I accepted a job and then was told I couldn't accept the job and felt like I had done something very wrong? Yeah, that one. Now, be sure to understand that I am not responsible and was never thought to have done anything wrong at all, but I hate all forms of conflict and two principals fighting over me smacks of conflict in my book. Just saying...

However, my mind could be racing over the thought that it is time for classes to resume at JC and I have not received an email or a call offering me a class. Umm, ok, so they do not even reopen until tomorrow, but that is decidedly beside the point! I want to know if I have an extra job, by God. Why do people never do things on MY time clock? Again...just saying...

Maybe my brain keeps replaying clips of phone conversations and emails and actual face-to-face dialogue between me and my MAT. (If he calls me "my Jamie," I'm thinking he can be mine too.) He's very curious about what everyone is saying about him, especially since I have actually mentioned him by name on a FB status, and I do not have the heart to tell him that I only refer to him as a nameless "date" on a blog and do not speak of him outloud otherwise. I'm just not sure he would understand that to say it out loud to those around me makes it real and therefore something that can crush me if/when it ends.

I know in some level he would because he was hurt deeply by his ex, but I can see none of that on his face-ever. Each time we are together, either in person or on the phone or online, he is fully there, ya know.  No holding back, no games, no subterfuge-just him and his honesty. Now he flirts...Lord does that man flirt...and Lord, bless my soul, is he ever good at it...but it feels differently than what I'm used to. I'm used to blatant flirting that is heavily laced with innuendo and propositions, but his is....well, honest and straightforward. Open. There is affection without overt references to sex being bandied about; there are only terms of endearment and questions about my day and plans and occasional "kiss" thrown in for good measure. In fact, the only thing remotely racy about our conversations is the increasing number of times the word "kiss" is thrown around. (Hell, he even says "kiss" before he gets off the phone with me.)  And I am sitting here feeling nervous because I have no words to describe what this feels like and I'm trying desperately to play it off and grown up because it's not like I'm a stupid teenager (although, I know you all probably don't believe it after all the crushes I've had in the past year) and can afford to be so flippant with thoughts and ideas.

While I know that whatever happens I will survive and move on, just as have before and will again, but I'm actually more afraid of getting used to this kind of treatment and always being disappointed if I never receive it again. I actually started to ask him if he was interested in a thing that's happening next month and stopped myself with the thought, "Really, Jamie. You want to ask him about next month. Ya assuming a lot aren't you?" 

This is after knowing that he already said he will run my first 5K with me in May, but I have a hard time counting on that.  It's not that I do not believe him; it's just that it boggles my damn mind. Seriously, guys, why. I mean I met him in November and started emailing and talking on the phone. We had our first date the saturday before Christmas. We just had our third date (AND we all know from past posts that I seem to have a shelf life of around 6 weeks or 3ish dates. Not sure why, but that has been the trend.) and I think I'm waiting for the shoe to drop and each day it doesn't I'm not sure whether to breath a sigh of relief and do a happy dance or just keep my fingers crossed.

I know...I know..I'm thinking WAY too much about all of this shit and I should give it a rest, get some sleep and just relax...easy for you to say, Paco. You don't have to worry about the weird fluttery feeling you get thinking about some really sweet and extremely handsome man with excellent hands and very, very muscled abs(Oh yes, hand on chest..zero fat, pudge, anything...just very hard, solid muscle. Whoa...) And how the more excited you get when his name pops up on the phone or online the more nervous you get and how stupid it all sounds-even when it's just said in your own head. I mean, Hallmark doesn't make a "I like you and it scares the mortal hell out of me because I just can't think of any reason why I should get to keep you even tough I have no idea why I'd even have a single thought about keeping anyone this soon after us meeting" card. Good God I'm nurotic tonight..

SEE!!!

This is what happens when I can't sleep!!! I toss. I turn. I starting thinking and then I can't turn my fucking brain off!! Holy hell!!  I'm fucking going to bed....

PS-Just to let you guys know, i'm pretty sure this all spurred from the possibility of us going a group outing this weekend. Me and my two & him and his one. I keep thinking that either sometime this week (in a panic of "OMG her kids that might be too serious") or next week (in a panic of "OMG her kids are wild and I can't deal") the death knell will sound and that will be all she wrote...sigh.......damn, I really AM going to bed this time.

When the excitment just isn't there.

Have you ever really wanted to get excited about something, but just couldn't work up the nerve? That's what I'm currently feeling right now.

You see, I have 2 interviews this week and although I really want to get all pumped and excited about, I'm feeling a bit underwhelmed. Ok, I won't bullshit you guys, I'm scared as hell to get excited because, let's face it, I haven't had the best of luck in the interview department. I mean-Really. Now, I have also already interviewed for a job at this same school...humm, it was about this time last year as a matter of fact.

Needless to say, I didn't get the job. And I should have. Although, maybe they realize that now. 

Maybe that's a leg up or perhaps it just makes me look desperate as hell. I guess looking desperate isn't SO bad because, again something to face guys, I am. 


I also have  date this weekend.  And this would be another area I haven't been having the best of luck in.  It's funny though, I wasn't ever a dater before. Seriously. I jut kinda fell into relationships and never really was the girl that went on dates and "played the field". I never questioned it because, while I think I'm pretty damn cute, I realize that I was not, am not, and never will be that girl that instantly gets noticed from across the room. It's ok and it's not from a lack of self esteem, I promise. I'm just Jamie and there's nothing so eye catching and fantastical that instantly attracts the whole idea of eyes meeting from across the crowded, smoky room. That's not how I roll and that's ok. I'm more of the cute girl that becomes a "wow" after a conversation or two. Yep, I'm personality attractive. (And it's always pissed me off that "She has a great personality translates to "she's not attractive".)

So, I find it confusing to be this serial dater now. I'm not kidding. I've gone on dates with 3 (this Sat will be guy 4) since August and only one has made it to date 3. One of them would have had schedules been more kind and he not freaked out about my kids, but that' snot my problem. (Actually, I think he's trying to maneuver another one, but I'm only going to bite if I see some serious motivation on his part- then I'll think about it.  But please no one think I'm holding my breath...no really.) 

Anyway, at least the guy this Saturday has a little boy so he understands the idea of time constraints and responsibility that comes with molding a little person's life. He's also "motivated" (his words not mine) to drive anywhere at anytime to spend time with me. Odd. I'm not even sure why I should think it's odd, but I swear it fills me with trepidation.  I feel like I should dig into his psyche and find the hidden reason. Maybe it's because I never gave anyone the chance to act that way towards me or maybe I just kept picking the guys that wouldn't. Humm, probably both.

I've always done for other people because I really don't expect anything done for me. How sad that I do not expect a fuss to be made over me, but let's face it, having never been a "squeaky wheel" I've never had an abundance of attention lavished on me. I've always been able to disappear into the background. Convenient, but not exactly the fodder of dreams, ya know.

I think I'm just in the "Meh, why the hell should I get excited about something that will potentially disapointing and probably not work out anyway" phase. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not feel depressed and, yes, I've been taking my meds, but I just can't motivate myself to get all giddy and excited about either interview or my date. Does this mena that my natual optomism is fading and a pessimistic realism is taking over? Ugh, I hope not. How depressing would that be?

Maybe I just need a vacation.  or maybe I just need SOMETHING to fucking work out-at least for a minute.

Just guessing...

Thing 1's Journey

So, I've talked about the recent struggles that T has been having in school lately and you guys have been very outspoken and supportive. Thank you.

He was suspended from school yesterday for the same behavior from the last time I blogged about him (he did it on Monday and Tuesday, which is why he was suspended on Wednesday) and, at the suggestion of my sister, I went ahead and and took him to the doctor yesterday while he was "out".

To be fair, he also has had a cough for a few days too.

So, we went to the doctor (a new pediatrician too, but I did make sure I picked the woman since he's more comfy with women than men.). I promised no shots so he was more than willing to go.

He instantly loved the nurse (There is something my son LOVES about black women and blonds. What/ It's true!!) Anyway, the doctor came in and he loved her too. (Perhaps it was the blond highlights, idk.)

She checked his breathing, among other things, and gave me a proscription for his sinus, beginning bronchitis cough....

then I had her check out his face where my sister's fucking dog bit him...ON THE FACE! (Kim, I'm sorry but that dog is going to die when I see him next. Just saying. I'd kennel him for Christmas if you want him to live.)  Anyway, I wanted to see what I could put on the developing scar to minimize it. Seriously, I'm very excited about the keloid that is developing. Really. Thank you genetics that  get nothing, am I mean absolutely nothing (not a tan, not the beautiful think, black hair)  from my Indian blood except the whole keloid scar thing...and then my son gets it too-on his face. Fucking Really??!! Thanks....that rocks....sigh

Anywhooo. I ended the visit with this jem of communication brilliance, "I know he's only four, but, I mean, he's really having trouble in school and at home."

She listened as I went into greater detail about some of the "issues" that we've been dealing with, but was not surprised because she had watched this child literally bounce around the room since she walked in. She asked the question I was waiting for..."Is there anyone else in the family that has these issues." Is there?! "Um, me, my dad, his father, my sister's four kids, my sister, my aunts, a majority of my cousins...and almost all of them/us are medicated in some way for it."

So, she gave me an evaluation to fill out and one for his teacher to fill out.

There were so many things floating through my head as I read it.

• Almost all of these thing sound like him
• Almost all of these things sound like me
• How sad and overwhelmed my baby must feel a majority of the time
• How much I loath the idea of medicating my baby boy, but desperately want him to have an easier time in school than I had.

While I was never a hyper active kid, I was and still am a fidgeter. Something on my body is always in motion-usually it is my leg or foot. (My kids were never really rocked to sleep as babies; they were lulled to sleep by my leg shake-think metronome.)

I would also miss chucks of information because my mind would drift away either in a daydream or get distracted watching out the window. Now, I certainly never admitted to that because I thought my Pop would kill me for goofing off in class and it was never noticed because I was a good kid that never was any trouble and my grades were good. (I always doubled my efforts and learned the information I missed myself so I could keep my grades up.)

My real problems were manifested in anxiety.

I also didn't know that I had a problem with anxiety until I was pregnant with Caitlin. I really always thought that everyone would get severe stomach aches (and occasionally either gag or throw up) anytime they had a test, exam, speech, project, or was called on in class to answer a question. Normal people would get overwhelmed with the thought of every single worst case scenario anytime they left the house right? Maybe  the entire body physically shaking and and overwhelming "bad feeling" about things might have been a bit odd, but my whole family tends to be "high strung" so it's a family thing, but everything else is pretty standard.

Well, it turns out that no, no it's really not normal.

Go figure.

And each time T would display "Jamie" tendencies I would just say, "Poor thing, he's so much like me."

Now, after I finally was told-no, I did not come to this realization myself, I had to be TOLD- I began looking at my child differently. It made makes me sad that he has this same shadow over his head that dims every situation and makes it almost impossible to fully enjoy life.

This is why when asked if I'd ever consider coming off of lexapro I say, "Are you fucking kidding? Hell no!"

Since being medicated myself I love my life. I can taste the highs and lows, savouring each flavor without it spoiling everything else. Now I may be given the opportunity to give T that same gift, the gift of calm. The gift of feeling sane and normal all the time. The gift of not choking on constant fear of people, situations, success, failure, and everything in between.



Is it worth it? Until he's old enough to make the choice for himself...yeah, I think it just might be worth it.

Smack me in the Face and Let's Start Again.

As I'm lying down to sleep, which I dearly need to do right now, I begin thinking about this search that has gotten started. It's something very akin to The Great Guy Search. I realized that every time I find myself in the vicinity of a male I instantly check out that left hand. It's almost a compulsion now. It wasn't until I was standing in the check out line in Hell Walmart that I noticed I had made a mental note of wedding rings on every male around me.

When did I become this girl? I mean, I'm not feeling some deep societal push to couple up because all of my friends are like "Meh, give it time." I'm not feeling familial pressures because my Pop has already made that one abundantly clear. I believe the conversation went something along the lines of, "I hope to hell you think you have to get married again just to make it because that's bullshit and unnecessary." I might have missed a word here or there, but that was the general message. I've always thought my Pop had such a way with words...

So, back to the whole bed thing...I'm thinking about my newest obsession with wedding rings and realize that, again, I have listened to my Pop, but not heard him. I found the kernel of doubt that has me looking searching and thinking I need a man in my life because (drum roll please) I seriously do not think it will ever be possible for me to live on my own with Things 1 and 2 without any sort of support or help from my Pop.

I mean, examining the evidence in questions so far, it's pretty plain why that issue exists. 

• teaching adjunct online
• teaching adjunct at community college
• no full time job
• no one is hiring (or at least not hiring me)
• I actually had to swallow my pride and borrow money from my Pop for my bills last month. (I get paid very erratically from U of P and won't get a ju co one until the end of Sept. Let's just say that I cried, my Pop wrote a check and couldnt' figure out how to make me not cry. It was just beyond me, but yet, he understood. Yes, pride is my Sin of choice.)
• I have 2, count them 2, children. Two.

Now when I think about "How Long" it been I am slightly deceived. Although I have been "married since June of 2009 (I don't care WHAT the law says; in my soul I was NOT married as of May 21-when I came out of my haze. Damnit!), I have only lived with my parents since after Christmas. This is what? Month 8? now in my head I should already have everything in life 4x4, but I do realize that life just doesn't work that way.

Kinda like losing weight-it took years to put it on so it'll take years to take off. Great in theory, but shitty in practice. I just hate waiting. (Humm, do I smell another bout of pride? Why, yes, yes I do!)  And it's especially hard for me because, lets face it, numbers have never been my strong suit and I have no idea what it would take for the 3 of us to live without me having constant panic attacks over what bill gets paid this month.  I always think, it was easier having two incomes...well, not really. It should have been easier, but nothing was easy living with, you know, whatshisname.

He's the reason I'm still paying off a credit card that I haven't touched since Tristan was born. thank God I've gotten the others paid off finally, but that one has a pretty hefty balance left on it and every time the bill comes in I get so pissed off I can't even see straight because I know that is because of beer, beer, nights he "had" to get out of the house and drink beer in a bar, more beer, and taking me out to eat once in a bluefuckingmoon. Did I mention beer?

Sorry...bitter rant. Should have warned you. My bad. Anyhoo...

I guess  the long and the short of the issue is that I'm afraid. There I said it. I'm afraid and I'd like someone to swoop in and take care of everything and solve all of these problems that I can't see a way out of.

Problem!!!!

Umm, last I looked at my birth certificate, it didn't say "Princess" or place silver spoon here AND the last time I got married it didn't solve a single problem.

I need to remember what started this journey. I started it. And I started it so I could make sure that I had a firm hold of "Me" so if, by some chance, since I'm not all that unfortunate looking, someone does come along I never lose me again. I started it so I could rediscover my voice and my passions and my dreams that got lost amid beer cans and nights sleeping alone.

So, like Elizabeth Gilbert says in Eat, Pray, Love...

Operation self esteem. Day fucking one.

(Take, at least, two. SNAP)

Begining at the Begining Again

Operation Self-Esteem--Day Fucking One.
(Elizabeth Gilbert)

Yep, I think I have finally hit the self-analysis wall. Actually, I slammed into it head first, rubbed up against it like a cat, and just- kept- beating- my- head- against- the- stupid- ass- fucking- wall! So, now hopefully all of that is out of my system for a minute and perhaps, it is time to back off and take stock of life as it stands.

I have a job. It may not start until October, but at least I know that I have one. And that interview really boosted my confidence so I'm willing to look into other options that start before October.

I'm not yet the size I want to be and I didn't meet the goal I set in January; HOWEVER, I am numerous inches smaller in most of the areas I wanted to shrink. I'm also pretty proud of the hourglass figure I've achieved and most of the time I feel very Marilyn.

I may not have completed the C25K, but I've decided to start again since I'm in better shape this time than last time I tried. The treadmill is cleaned off for use (since it's too bleeding hot to do it outside) and I even have an app for that on my phone.

My kids aren't the best behaved in the world, but they are cute, polite, listen relatively well, and will be going back to school soon. Did I mention they are cute? Plus they are gong to be way smarter than me so I totally may need to go back to school just so I can keep up.

I might still be living at home, but when Pop graduates from USM (finally) they are going on some trips so I get a bit of a break. Plus, I never have to pay a babysitter when I go to the gym.

I've decided to eliminate all toxic people from my life as much as possible, and if it isn't possible I can at least limit my exposure and how I allow them to effect me and my life.  First and foremost being my ex-husband because he is officially a guest of the state way up in North Mississippi for the next 15 years. I know it sounds strange, but until everything was final I just had this nagging feeling that he could show up at my door. Now, rationally, I know he had no way to do that, but his bail had been lowered and I just couldn't feel totally safe. Not really. Living with my pop has given me the most solace because he would never be dumb enough to face my Dad after what he did; however, I'm sure he's really pissed at me and bound to get even more pissed. (But that's for a later post)

DB told me last night that I need to talk less, do more. Actually that is a paraphrase, but that was the basic thought. She's right, of course, and not just because she is a physiologist and isnt' her job to be right, but because she's known me forever and knows I need to just get out and DO. Do what? Doesn't matter as long as I just get out and do something! I am gong to start a list of things I really want to do in the next year and hopefully I can get them all checked off by the time my year is up.

Most of all I'm going to give myself a break; I just think it is time. Each day, no matter how hard it gets, I'm going to pay myself on the shoulder and congratulate myself on what I have done up to this point. Yep, actually give myself credit for not crawling into the hole I really REALLY wanted to crawl into last year and floating through life letting everyone else take care of me. Good job, Me!

Weekly Wrap Up

There are so many things that happen in the course of a week. Good-Bad-Indifferent-Crazy-And each of them vying to overtake me and control the week as a whole. Most of the time I can keep a pretty solid balance, but I'm afraid I was not as successful this week. Looking over the past week there are some clear winners in the grand struggle for dominance in my life.

Coming into first place is: emotional eating. (Sometimes the physical discomfort associated is at least something to either distract from feelings OR something to feel out of the numbness. My job won't start until October, which certainly doesn't help my pocketbook. I did apply for a few other positions; although it was a bit hard to not think that there is no real point to apply because I probably won't get them anyway. *sigh* Just imagine me not on meds. )

A close second: Listlessness. (I have not written a single word in a week. That's right, a whole week. I'm so 'shamed, but I just have not been able to think or concentrate on anything long enough to accomplish much of anything. Hell, I haven't even to the gym but once because I just couldn't figure out how to get there with the kids not taking naps and Kalan with us. And Lawd, Lawd, did T and Kalan fight and argue.)

Ah, but we just can't forget guilt. (T is not registered for school. I'm not doing very well in the class I've been helping my Pop with. I really, really want to run away sometimes and depending on the day, most of the time I want to go alone. My kids are hyper and crazy and make mj nuts, so I don't feel I can go anywhere or do anything if it doesn't involve my children.)


At the very bottom of the list is a very slight spark of hope. Just because it got a bit buried this past week doesn't mean it won't reemerge this week. After all, tomorrow is another day.

Wedding Thoughts

This is my super-fab cousin Sunnie is getting married in two weeks.She is also the apple of my son's eye. Seriously, I think he'd go live with "MY cousin Sunnie" in a second.

There she at the right...notice the family resemblance...Fair skin. Faux red hair. Sarcastic smile. We are practically twins!

Anyway, she is marrying this guy here...Jesse Pounders.  I have only met Jesse once, but I'm always drawn in my a calm soul and he certainly has that.

You tend to notice things like that about people when you come from a terribly ADD family where everyone fidgets and constantly fills the silence.





I have been trying to give advice and suggestions and be supportive via text, email, and FB about the wedding. I even offered to drive up early and help set up everything. I'm sure she has more than enough help, but I'm a fan of both of them and, truthfully, they are living examples of my hopes.

You see, a majority of us McCarty women have "issues" with our men. (I think I might have blogged out this before.) However, Sunnie has not been immune to the guy-debacle. She has been super supportive during this whole "single mom" thing because she was one way before me.

But when her back was turned, this man caught her by surprise and changed everything. She is blissfully happy in her country wonderland, surrounded by plants and dirt-the way all good hippies should live. While on one had I am "pea-green with envy," I am also so happy because she totally deserves to find her bliss and her true happiness.

I know my time is coming because we all find it eventually, that person who calms and compliments our hectic brains. And when I do...I'm eloping!

Strange Realizations

So, my friend, D, and I were chatting last night, discussing our amazing lack of lives, when I was totally caught off guard with what should have been obvious. When she and I talk about these things we want we are actually talking about vastly different things.

I said I wanted a social life. (Now this is the part where I admit that I actually sabotage myself from having a social life. The longer I at home, without said life, the more likely I am to stay that way. I even start to make up excuses and plot how to NOT go anywhere. It almost feels like I make myself agoraphobic. Now multiply that with the guilt I feel whenever I go somewhere without the kids and my parents watch them for me. Hell, I only went to the gym once this past week because I just felt terrible and selfish every time I thought about going. If the kids weren't asleep, I just couldn't make myself go. I feel like I have to work up as much good will with my mom as possible because my kids stress her out. She's a believer that kids should be seen and not heard and my kids just can't manage that one-my fault, I didn't raise them that way.) Anyhow, back to my story...

D, however, wants an exciting life. Now the description she presented of the "perfect, fantasy life of excitement" sounded like I would find it fun for about five minutes-perhaps ten, but definitely no longer than an hour.

I think excitement might be overrated or at least what most people consider excitement. I'm just not an adrenaline junkie. I can handle roller coasters about once a year (at best). While I drive a little fast, it makes me hyperventilate to ride with someone driving fast. I prefer to eeeeaaassse into new situations, not jump in head first. in other words, I'm a total scardy cat. I admit it.

However, I think there is something to be said about calm souls and enjoy quiet evenings as much nights out. That sounds like a whole lot of fun to me. I mean, me ex was the life of the party. Fun, outgoing, and totally bored by nights at home with me and the kids. In think that was one of the issues that prompted him to find, umm, another playmate-as it were. An evening playing with the kids and snuggling on the couch after they are in bed sounds as thrilling to me as an evening out...actually it sounds way more fun than a wild night at a club.

Ahhh my wild and crazy dreams...

The Wrap-up

So, its the end of this lovely weekend and although I should be in bed, I just can't freaking sleep. I have tried a dozen things to help me sleep, but I draw the line at warm milk. Sorry, if I don't like it cold, I sure at hell won't like it warm. Blech!

Anyway, this is my last ditch effort at sleep. I figure if I can write all of the random craziness in my brain I might, just might be able to get to sleep before my children wake up. OK now, let's start at the beginning...

Friday-massive cleaning tactics because of the Sadler invasion that evening. Picture it, six kids (whose ages range from14 to 2) and three adults in one small house. Fruit-basket-turn-over to be sure, but it was fun- claustrophobic, but fun.

I got to hear an almost play-by-play for a good friend of mine fall in love over the weekend. I'm so excited for her because she deserves to be happy so badly. She would send me random messages about things he would say or do. Totally swoon worthy! Although he has a brother, I'm actually wondering if I can get him cloned. lol  Actually, its the first time a friend of mine found happiness in boyland that I felt not even the smallest pang of envy because I didn't have one too. Maybe I've realized that it will come when it comes, or not. I certainly do not relish the idea of being alone, but I'm not afraid of it anymore. That's a big step for me. I'm letting go of my perceptions of pretty much everything. I'm going to create my own time and space from what works for me and not what is The Status Quo. I can now wrap myself up in the idea of being whole and solid on my own instead of needing another half.

I sometimes, wondering, because in writing it is so hard to detect particular inflections that show up verbally, if people mean comments the way I take them. In a chat it easier because you can ask, but on a random comment...all but impossible. However, I have decided that if it makes me happy to take a comment a particular way, I'm going to do just that because it hurts no one if I do.  So there. 

Today I watched my Brother-in-Law play beaseball with my kids (and his too). He ticked and hugged and even let Cait put bows in his hair and while I loved him for it, it didn't make me sad.  I think that's HUGE  for me. No, no, I know it's HUGE for me. I didn't think of what my kids were missing out on; instead, I simply enjoyed the moment of watching them play and of beign in the background.  (Seriously, by the 100,000th Mommy, you'd have to be deaf not to need a time out. I don't care what anyone says.) 

In the next few weeks, the final push to get whatshisname completely ripped from our lives will be in full effect. He will not have a single right to them AND they will have MY name and not HIS name. We will all have my name. While I am still in contact with his family, because his family didn't fuck everything up he did, I think it's better that the kids do not have that "name" hanging over them forever. Plus, it is be the sweat of MY brow that clothes, feeds, shelters, spoils, loves and discliplines them so they should have MY name. I don't even mind going back to the middle of the alphabet; at least the McCs come before the rest of the Ms.

Ah, so enthused by so little...Oh, I also have written absolutly nothing sice Friday. Nope, not a word, sentence, phrase, nada! Why? Umm, did you read above the vast number of people that were in this house this weekend? Yeah, that's why. I plan on making it up this week and continuing my push to finish. I think I will concentrate on filling in gaps that bother me since I've changed stuff half way in. I have copious notes of changes and additions that keep floating in front of my eyes while I'm writing so I guess I should go ahead and get that done so I can figure out the rest of the story. It's getting pretty good, but I still don't knwo who the bad guy is. There are several contenders who have motive and oppotunity, but I just do not know how it will turn out. I have no idea if that is good or bad either, but it certainly is the way it's going.

Ok, perhaps I can sleep now. I sure hope so since I can feel my eyelids sinking....G'Night!

Hope Springs Eternal

So, all of you, faithful few, know that I follow Ms. Single Mom's blog. It's enlightening, relaxing, entertaining, and inspiring. Today she posted about a conversation she had with another Single Mom Friend (SMF) about Elizabeth Gilbert's new book Committed. (For those who do not know Ms. Gilbert's story pick up a copy of Eat, Pray, Love and read it. I've read it pre and post divorce.)
Although both women are in lovely relationships the idea of marriage still makes them a bit shaky and doe-eyed.

She posed the question to all of her followers, wonering what WE all think of the marriage question. Would we want to? What are the expectations you would take into a second marriage?

I actually thought about it. And I decided that I would throw my two cents into the fray and below is what I came up with...

Although it's taken a year of avoiding anything to do with "the M word", but I think I would like to get married again one day. However, I have several thoughts on the subject.

First and foremost, I would never marry so my children could have a father. I would never marry because as a teacher I will always struggle to make ends meet. I would never marry because "seems like the right thing to do". I would never marry someone I absolutly could not live without; instead I would marry someone I would want to live without and would stand beside the 3 of us as one of us and not an addition.

The last time around I searched to find love, support, acceptance, excitement, and a multitude of other things I thought would complete me; however, instead of looking for it in someone else, I have found all of it myself. This time I want not someone to complete me, but someone to compliment me-a warm breeze that makes me smile, not one who fills my sails.

Not too shabby, huh? 

All of that being said, the question on the wind is, "Will that someone ever pop up?" Idon'tknow. I am not on the hunt. I am not searching. I am enjoying the new experience of freedom and being. Just being. No expectations save my own. No true need to search for love outside of my own mirror and the faces of my children and there it is not a search-it is a fact.

Ahhh, but being the helpless romantic that I truely am-Damn, Victorian literature-I think of a time when I will again have someone's should on which to rest my head or someone's arms around me as a sleep. There's a part of my soul that craves it; that begs me to find it, but I think I'll let The Universe take care of that. After all, I gotta take care of Thing1 and Thing2. Oh, and me too! 

Women, Food, and God - The End / The Final Review

I'm not usually one to ramble on about God and spirituality. I believe in God and I am spiritual in my own way. I'm a pretty good Catholic girl; however, I don't feel the need to inform the world. I'm perfectly happy be-bopping my own marry way and letting everyone else be-bop theirs. My guess this comes from my years as a public high school teacher, you know the whole separation of Church and state thing-I'm very "Don't ask- Don't tell" when it comes to God.

Anyhoo, that being said, I picked up Women, Food, and God with some degree of trepidation, even though one of my most trusted sources in the world told me to pick it up.  Let me tell you, my faithful few, it rocked my freaking world! Seriously. Maybe you have read my previous posts about this book, but now that I'm finished with it, I think I may read it again and give it out as gifts until everyone I know has this book!

It has completely changed my idea of eating and food in general. I'm not saying that my brain is now perfectly clear and rainbows are as far as I can see, but I am telling you that I'm aware of shit now that I knew, but didn't realize effected me. And I also didn't know that anyone else felt the same way about themselves that I fet about myself. Woe Buddy!!

You see, this book doesn't tell you what to eat or how to eat; it makes you think about "Why" you are eating. Are you eating because you are hungry or because you are sad/angry/frustrated/overwhelmed/etc? Do you know? Can you tell the difference? I coudn't. At least I know after I do it now  I realize what I have done.

For example, at lunch, I stuffed food down my face quickly so I could get my kids situated with thier meals, drinks, napkins, and headed off to nap-time; I didn't realize until afterwards that I have no idea what I ate or even what it tasted like. I am only vaugly aware of the after-taste of mustard.) Why could I not have made the meal more pleasureable to all of us? Why did I have to be SO in control for the surroundings and trapping of "meal" that I was unaware of mine. Then, as all moms do, I found myself picking off of the kid's plates as I cleaned up...Hello!! Not hungry, McCarty! Why are you putting food in your mouth?!!!  Sease and disist!!! Unhand those fries!!!

These are the kind of things that are discussed in the book. Begining the moment instead of off somewhere else, hiding from something "unpleasant". I hide from unpleasant all the time, but I realized recently that I miss out on a whole lot of pleasant when I do that. Now I have a guide out of my hidey hole and into the world.

Although I said above the book doesn't tell you what or how to eat, it does give you 7 Guidelines and they are both simple common sense and incredibly difficult-all at the same time.

1. Eat when hungry. (What if you can't recongnize hungery from boredom or saddness or fear?)
2. Eat in a clam environment. (Piff, Dude, I have kids! What calm environment?)
3. Eat without distractions. (See Guideline 2)
4. Eat what your body wants. (It sounds great, but...dangerous)
5. Eat until you are satisfied. (See guideline 1)
6. Eat (with the intention of being) in full view of others. (See below!)
7. Eat with enjoyment. (Problem! I have never felt anything but guilt and disgust when I eat.)

Ok, Number 6 knocked the wind out of my body. I swear I didn't realize other people were as fucked up as I am. As far back as I can remember I have hated eating in front of people because I always "felt" their thoughts and judgments..."She SO shouldn't be eating that! Put down the food, big girl! A salad, yeah right! So, NOW we all know how you got that way!" (The book calls that The Voice. It sucks and I now know I can tell it to "fuck off". Yippy!)  I think I've eaten in a restraunt alone once and I took a book with me because I just HAD to block out the idea that people were watching me eat. The idea that I must be prepared to always eat in front of someone and never sneak a quick snack while no one is looking is terrifying. It breaks everything I have ever thought about eating down to the very core. Honestly, I'm scared.

But I also want to stop hiding. I want to feel every single emotion, even if it is unpleasant or unseeminly or messy. I want to know that I did truely "live deliberately... live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, To put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die Discover that I had not lived.” (Thoreau).

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?