who's the boss...

do you remember the show Who's the Boss with tony danza?  although the following story doesn't have anything to do with the show, the premise of the show, or any of the people of the show, the title of the show has been on my mind today.  i had one of those power struggles this morning with my daughter, where i had to show her that i make the rules and her job is to follow them.

monday mornings are a transition day for my kids.  transition days are always tough.  the kids have to put on their mom hats.  those hats magically remind them of the rules at my house, the hierarchy within the walls of my house, and the expectations at my house.  sometimes, the magic mom hats don't make it on their heads in time and i have to forcibly place them on their heads.

my preteen daughter forgot to put her magic mom hat on before entering my house this morning, which meant our morning sucked, i lost my cool, and ended up leaving my daughter at home.

in her defense, the kids get dropped off with very little time before we have to leave.  in my defense, my preteen daughter is old enough to know how to manage her time.  i have explained that if you know you aren't going to have very much time, you need to come home ready to go.  you shouldn't come home in your pajamas, still needing breakfast, still needing to pack a lunch, and still needing to pack up your gym and school bag.  for some reason this hasn't sunk in to her brain yet, it must be too full of saxophone arrangements, gymnastics routines, and what her friends are up to.

so this morning, like many other monday mornings, she waltzed through my door in pajamas and we had to leave in five minutes.  although i was irritated, i politely gave her a "we have five minutes, you need to hustle."  three minutes later she is walking through the house without pants looking for her favorite jeans.  i ask her what she is doing and tell her all the laundry is done, if they aren't in her room she will have to put on something else.  her response was, i'm just going to look for them.  i snapped at her and told her i was leaving in a minute and a half.

about this time, my son was looking at me cautiously.  i don't lose my cool too often but i was fuming.  in a not so pleasant voice, i looked at him and said you better be ready to go because we are late.  he jumped into high gear, getting his shoes on, gathering up his lunch and school stuff, and standing by the door waiting for the green light to leave the house.

a minute later my daughter was still strolling around the house.  i told her i was leaving, she needed to start walking to school and if she didn't make it, she wasn't going to to gymnastics practice.  i walked out of the house, barking at my son to get in the car.  he looked totally confused that we were leaving without his sister and kept looking back at the front door waiting for her to come bolting to the car.  she never came out the front door.

after dropping off my carpool kids and my son at their respective schools and stopping for fuel, i went back to the house. she was ready and waiting for me.  during the tense ride to school, i had to reestablish who's the boss, explain once again my expectations and rules, and really press the fact that i won't be coming back to pick her up if she misses the ride to school.

just another monday morning for the record books. i'm ready for tuesday.

let it go...

i was told the other day that i need to learn to "let it go".  instantly an image of elsa trudging through the snow belting out "let it go" from frozen popped into my head. thank you disney and you're welcome for that song now being stuck in your head.  this isn't what i wanted to talk about though, over the weekend, i received a message that has left me uneasy.

so the friend who told me to let it go, basically said, this isn't your business and not to worry about it. what i don't think that friend understands about me, is that once i care about you, regardless of what happens between us, i will always care about you.  i will always be concerned about your welfare.  i will always wish the best for you.  i want to see you succeed.  i want you to be happy.  it is part of what makes me, me.  i genuinely care about the people (past or present) in my life.  

you see, i think the person who sent the message is making a ginormous mistake. i understand the reasons, that they shared, on why they are making this particular decision, but i still think it is wrong. i recognize that i don't have a say in the decision or even that it will impact me in any way, but how do you shake the uneasy feeling when you think your friend is setting them self up to be hurt? 

is part of being a good friend, saying the things your friends don't want to hear?  i think so.  i have had really hard conversations with my friends.  i know i've said things that have hurt their feelings. or even worse appear to not even be their friend, but in the end those people who trust me enough to ask my opinion know i'm going to be honest with them and tell them what i really think.  

i wouldn't be me, if i had kept my opinion about this decision to myself.  my initial response was made through a phone call.  i wanted to make sure that i used my voice, even though it wasn't a strong voice.  i needed them to hear my tone, hear my words, and not leave my words open to interpretation through a text message. so i called and said i didn't know how to process the information, but i only want the best for you. 

this exchange didn't make the uneasiness go away.  i spent my evening trying to figure out what to do.  i was going to just let it go, as had been suggested, but the following morning i received another message. from my standpoint this friend isn't sure what they truly want and is making a rash decision to satisfy an immediate need.  i had to say something.  

i composed my message, took a deep breath and hit send.  i knew they wouldn't get it in time, the decision had a time frame.  i also knew that the recipient was going to be upset with me and probably not speak to me for a great length of time, but it was a risk i was willing to take.  this friend opened the door for the conversation and i had to walk through.

i don't know when the friend received the message, but they did respond with a "thank you for sharing, it means a lot to me."  at the end of the day, i just want the people in my life to be happy, to be successful in whatever they choose to do, and to know that i will always care about them.  

goodbye friend...

on monday, i learned i lost a friend.  a friend who impacted my life in ways i never expected.  this is a tremendous loss in my small little world, but i imagine anyone who knew him is feeling a tremendous loss.

i had put on my facebook status monday: Jason Titmus, you are one of the most influential people i have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  although my time with you was short, the footprint you left on my life is huge.  you will be missed. 

there are people who come in to your life that change you.  sometimes those changes are bad, but that wasn't the case with J, he changed my perspective of the world and persistently challenged me to be better.  he simply didn't accept that this heather, the heather right here and now, was the best i could be.  although that persistence annoyed the hell out of me, i couldn't be more grateful.

the hardest part of learning of J's passing was telling my kids.  i have never had to tell them that someone they know and cared about has died.  i wasn't sure how to do it and was actually dreading it. do i tell them a story?  do i just say, "hey guys i have something to tell you?"  or do i simply stop holding back the tears and let them initiate the conversation?

i went to pick up miss p from gymnastics and she was quick to notice something was wrong.  at the very moment she asked me what's wrong, the setting sun came streaming through the clouds overhead, tears started rolling down my face and i shared with her the news.  normally she doesn't stop talking about her day and gymnastics, but that afternoon she sat quietly in the backseat of our car.  i peeked at her in the rear view mirror and she had tears rolling down her face.  instinctively i reached back and she grabbed my hand and held it tightly the whole ride home.  when we got home, we hugged for a few minutes and she said, "he is in a wonderful place now mom."

ash was harder to tell.  ash and J bonded.  i'm not sure if it is because they are both males, but they just seemed to understand each other.  i asked ash to come into the kitchen.  you see hanging up in my kitchen is a picture that J drew one afternoon when he was sitting on my couch with my kids.  i asked ash if he remembered J.  he immediately perked up and exclaimed, "vapor, liquid, solid".  it was one of the many things J taught my kids.  then ash asked if he was coming for a visit.  i had to tell him that he wasn't going to be coming.

ash's face fell, his shoulders slumped, and he turned away.  he tries so hard to be a "man" he doesn't like me to see him vulnerable.  i wrapped him up in my arms and ash started sobbing.  once he stopped crying, we sat on the couch and ash recalled all the things J had taught him and laughed at the time J wore my pajama bottoms, because i was washing his only set of clothes, and read a skippy john jones book in the craziest voices we had ever heard.

my kids seemed to take the news fairly well.  since monday, we've talked about him, sharing our memories and wondering what his new world is like.  thank you J for sharing your world with me and my kids.  we will miss you immensely.

unflattering pictures...

if you've run any organized race, you know that there are cameras everywhere.  whether it be hired, professional photographers or your random cell phone users looking to capture something crazy to post to social media.  it is kind of hard to escape the cameras.  i remember the first 5k i ran, seattle's st. patty's day dash with my girlfriends.  we had trained and trained and were concentrating hard on running our best.  we hardly paid attention to the photographers lining the streets of the race. when we scanned the posted pictures there were more than a couple of unflattering photos of us.  we vowed to pay attention the following year and "pose" so we would have a picture worth keeping or at the very least post to social media.

when i ran the half marathon a couple of weekends, i remembered to be on the lookout for the photographer.  i had seen him prior to starting the race taking pictures of all the groups of women who were running together.  there was a group supporting their favorite football teams, there was a group with all matching outfits, there was a group running in support of a family member, etc.  i was running by myself so i didn't make the cut, but that was okay i knew who to look for.

early on in the race, i saw him up ahead.  i made sure when i ran past him i gave him a two thumbs, my regular toothy smile and made sure i wasn't making a poop face. for some reason when i run, i scrunch my face up like i'm pushing, but i'm not, just concentrating.  i saw the same guy at the half way point and again somewhere on the way back.

a week later and the photos are finally posted.  i found myself in the pre-race group shot.  it wasn't super hard, i knew i was right up front behind the row of kneeling ladies

so i eagerly scrolled through the rest of them looking for my two thumbs up shot.  i knew that would be the one that would get picked for adding to the photo book of the race, but i couldn't find it anywhere.  so i went back through the photos and finally found myself.  i couldn't believe it, i look certifiably crazy.  in the picture, i'm coming into the finish line.  i don't recall seeing the photographer guy anywhere, but clearly he was there lurking on the sidelines waiting to capture the most unflattering picture he could possibly take.

i've shared the picture with my family and they died laughing.  i couldn't possibly have posted this picture single-y on my facebook page, but i'm swallowing my pride and sharing it now.  i really hope i didn't look like this the entire time and i'm thinking i would rather look like i'm going number two than this...

13.1 miles...

six am, my alarm goes off, but i had woken up a few times prior to my alarm buzz.  it is race day, a day i have been dreading, because i know that i am NOT by any means ready.  when i signed up for the race, i was really gung ho.  i had months to prepare myself.  all was going great until school and the kid's sports schedules started.  about that same time, i slept funny and hurt my neck.  that took a good week and a half to feel better.  when my neck felt better then i lost enough daylight hours to continue training.  

so, six am and it's race day.  i laid in my bed thinking just don't go. nobody will ever know.  i wanted more than anything to fall back asleep and claim that i slept through my alarm.  i even thought out how i could "fake" that i ran the race, however i didn't feel very good about that, so i climbed out of bed, got dressed and headed out.

i really wasn't looking forward to thirteen miles of running.  the longest i had gone in my training was six, just shy of halfway mark. i knew i was going to struggle and i didn't want to struggle.  i have a healthy competitive side and really wanted to do my best.  

so there i am with 300 other female runners and five male runners.  some people were in crazy coordinated costumes and some, like me, were just in boring old running attire.  normally i get all swept up in the festivities of a race and join in the hooting and hollering at the start of the race, but this time i was very subdued having an internal conversation you can do this just keep moving forward. 

regardless of how much i'm training, the first mile is always the hardest one for me.  it takes me a good mile to find my groove, regulate my breathing, relax my shoulders, utilize my arms just right, adjust how hard i'm pounding my feet into the ground, and adjust my music device.  by the end of that first mile i've found my groove and things are generally going well.  

for this race, the end of the first mile was the start of a mile long winding descent on a mountain biking trail.  i kept thinking this is going to be rough as mile twelve coming back.  i kept my snail's pace on the trail but stayed light on my feet for the descent.  i have fallen more than once going down hill on a mountain trail and really didn't want a repeat performance. 

mile three was steep switch backs out of the valley we had just descended in to.  i haven't done much hill training, actually i haven't done any.  i don't like hills, they stink. at this point, i was behind two ladies barely running, but still running.  i was totally fine to follow them and trudge up that hill to the top because i knew i wouldn't over exert myself.

once we got to the top, i really found my groove.  the trail that we ran was an unpaved back woods type trail.  it was kind of gravely, wooded, with a heavy canopy over the trail.  the rain started about mile four.  for clarity, it had been drizzling from the beginning, but the heavens opened up and it really started raining around mile four.  it was somewhere in between miles four and five i found myself behind two ladies who trained together.  i could hear them talking about how far they've come as runners and were recalling how it wasn't that long ago and getting to just this point was hard for them.  i was kinda missing the camaraderie of having my own gal pal, but this was a personal challenge i had to do alone.

around mile six, the rains still coming down, my music stopped working, which also meant that my mileage tracker stopped working.  for awhile it was just me and my surroundings.  big rain drops from the trees above, that clean earthy smell you get when it rains, my feet hitting the ground, and my breathing.  it was actually really peaceful and i was feeling great.  at the turn around point my music and mileage tracker came back on, but i turned them both off because i was actually enjoying the peace of the run.  unlike most times when i have no background noise my mind is on its own journey, but for today i was just running.  

the return was going great until i hit mile nine.  i was feeling fantastic, my breathing was good, my lungs weren't tired, but my legs started protesting, actually they were yelling at me to stop running. in general i have pretty bad knees and hips, my knees actually hurt everyday, but i just ignore them, however the shooting pain coursing between my knees and hips was excruciating.  i thought to myself  you are not trying to get an olympic qualifying time, flo, there is no need to overdo it and injure yourself so i decided to walk. walking was definitely easier than the running, but my legs were really hurting.  i kept a brisk pace, trying to keep my heart rate up and i had a goal to finish by noon.  i was racing the clock at this point and although walking was easier on my legs, i didn't think i would be able to make the noon deadline. 

i had come so far, i was super proud that i was able to make it nine miles without stopping.  this accomplishment far exceeded what i thought i would be able to do, but i couldn't walk across that finish line.  mile thirteen and i started running again.  most people probably wouldn't really call it running, but it wasn't walking, skipping, jumping, or galloping so it must be considered running. every step hurt like the dickens, but i had to finish strong.  

overall it was a great experience.  i didn't meet my deadline, i missed it by 15 minutes, but i finished and finished strong which was far more important.  i will definitely be doing another half marathon, just because i AM going to run the whole darn thing.  i will probably pick a different race, maybe one that isn't a backwoods trail. and maybe next time i will find a running partner, because it would have been way more fun to do this with someone. 

until the next race...

turning in my mom card....

this morning i failed as a mom.  i know every mom has been there, so i know this isn't a defect in my mom skills, but i am still feeling the guilt.  i think overall i am damn good mom.  both my kids seem to have goals and passions, some of them i don't care for but they are true to themselves.  they both understand what proper hygiene is even if they don't want to comply.  they both have a healthy sense of humor most of the time at my expense.  they are both kind and respectful of every one except for each other. they both understand the importance of living a healthy active life even though they desire fried food, ice cream, candy and movie marathons.  really, i couldn't ask for better kids, but i'm telling you sometimes those angels trade in their halos for horns and forked spears and suck the very soul out of me.

how is it that kids can be the most selfish creatures walking on this planet?  i know kids are, by design, dependent on their grown ups to provide, instruct, and lead them; but there is a fine line between being a loving helpful mom and a glorified slave to your children.  in a fifteen minute span, this morning, i was the lucky recipient of at least nine demands disguised as requests:

mom, will you brush my hair?

mom, will you make me waffles for breakfast?

mom, will you get the knots out of my laces (as the shoes are thrown at me)?

mom, can i get my haircut after school?

mom, can you sign my reading log?

mom, will you rewrap my wrist bandage?

mom, can you find my under armor?

mom, can you pack me a lunch?

mom, you forgot insert anything that doesn't benefit mom!

mom?

Mom?!

MOM?!?!?!

i try really hard to answer these demands pleasantly.  you know trying to model good tone and behavior for my angels, but i admit as the demands persist my tone changes to exasperation.  the "yeses" and "whats" from the first demand change to an elevated, "WHAT? what could you possibly want that demands my immediate attention?" by the last demand. 

it's not that i don't enjoy assisting my angels when they truly need mom, because i do. but when i'm just as busy as they are getting ready in the morning, this isn't the time to make frivolous demands. what's a frivolous demand you ask?  mom, will you brush my hair? i'm standing in my robe, my hair is quickly drying into a medusa-esque style and my twelve year old wants me to brush her hair.  that is ridiculous, brush your own darn hair and while you're at it can you brush mine because i just don't feel like raising my arm above my head?  i'm guessing she would look at me like i was an alien from a foreign planet.

or this mom, can you find my under armor? again, i'm in my robe, with my hair quickly drying into a medusa-esque style and my ten year old wants me to find their clothes? this is also ridiculous, i don't wear my son's clothes, i don't undress my son when he wants to change, so no i can't help you find the clothes you wore, took off, and probably stashed somewhere in your room other than your laundry basket.  maybe if you took two seconds to put your clothes in the laundry basket so i could wash them and then put your clothes away you could actually find them, but since we are making ridiculous demands hey son, can you find my pink bra?  i have like 10 other bras but i like that one the best and i haven't been able to find it.  i'm pretty sure he would decline my request.   

so, basically i lost my mind this morning.  i just couldn't hack the constant barrage of demands, on top of the messy house that i know i will have to ask for help to put back in order, on top of my own personal things that i still needed to get to like get dressed, attend to my hair and make my own lunch, all to get out of the door on time to pick up my carpool kids.  a flurry of words, some not kid appropriate, flew out of my mouth at rapid speed with one basic message:

i am ONE person!

handle some of your own stuff!

hopefully tomorrow will go better.  

my morning shock...

when i was a teenager, my sister and i used to torment my mom's husband.  we would let our cat, elliott, lick the butter before our stepdad would use it to on his toast.  we would sit at the kitchen table just waiting, then snicker when he would sit down to eat it.  we also had another trick that we played on him quite often...

every morning he would come downstairs dressed for work: slacks, button up shirt, dress shoes and a tie.  every morning, for an extended period of time, we would put a rubber band on the spray nozzle and turn it so it was aimed directly at anyone who stood in front of the sink.  every morning, we sat at the kitchen table eating our breakfast ready for the show that we knew would happen.  he would go to the sink, lift the handle to turn on the water, and get sprayed smack dab in his chest with the water from the nozzle.  my sister and i would break out in hysterical laughter.  he would have some choice words to say to us before going upstairs to change his clothes.

ah, the good old days.

you know how they, whoever they are, say karma will get you?  well i really dislike when they are right, but karma came and bit me in the rear this morning.  it's six in the morning, i've already been up crying while chopping onions, mincing garlic, and browning beef for the beef and barley soup that's simmering in my crock pot.  i've had a half of cup of coffee and my alarm is going off because it is time for me to get in the shower.

i trudge upstairs to the only bathroom in my house with a shower.  set my robe on the counter.  pull the shower curtain open a bit.  turn on the water to hot, because i like a really hot shower.  then pull the tab up, so the water comes out of the shower head instead of pouring out of the spout.  these are the same steps i go through every morning, but this morning there was a surprise waiting for me.  i should give you a little more info on my shower.

i have one of those shower heads that comes out of a holder so you can hold it in your hand and spray the tub out, or pretend you are at the hair salon and rinse your hair like the stylist does, or wash your pets, or any other activity that would require you to have a movable shower head.  i rarely touch the shower head.  i have no real reason to remove it from the holder, unless i am scouring the tub and need to rinse it down. sometimes though the shower head gets moved.  this morning was one of those times.  i pulled the tab to have the water come out of the shower head and got blasted in the face.

this is a shocking way to start your shower, mostly because i wasn't functioning in fully caffeinated mode, i was only half caff at this point.  so i fumbled with the shower curtain to close it back up and stop blasting myself in the face.  then snaked my arm around the closed shower curtain to turn the shower head back to where it should be.  the rest of my shower went great.

at breakfast, i posed the question do either of you know how the shower head gets turned facing out? ash quickly and emphatically denied knowing anything about it. miss p was slower in her response, but said yep, i like to pretend i'm at the hair dressers when i rinse my hair.  i tell them the story about my shower experience, which obviously put them both in stitches and left them with the following warning.

if this happens again

i will come into your room

while you are sleeping

and douse you in water

then leave

i always tell my kids we aren't a "tit for tat" kind of family, but in this instance, i'm comfortable with the tat. 

almost race day...

so i'm two weeks out from my first half marathon.  i have to admit that i am far from ready for this darn race.  when i signed up i was super excited, very motivated, and running.  you kind of need all three things to be successful at this organized race thing.  so let me tell you what's been going on.

weather: i was running into a problem with the heat.  i'm not a good heat person. even just sitting in the sun to enjoy a dining experience is tough for me when it is hot. in fact just the other night i was out to dinner with a friend and i was sweating balls.  i looked like i had gone swimming, my dress was dripping, i had sweat running from my neck to my feet, and i wasn't exerting any energy at all. so, i can't run in the heat, i probably would pass out from heat exhaustion.  to combat the heat, i switched to running in the mornings.  running in the mornings sucks.  doing an activity before i have my coffee is one of the dumbest things i've ever heard of, but i was doing it.  this brings me to the next issue...

time:  so i'm a pansy and can't hack the heat leaving me with the option of running in the cool morning.  daylight hours started to impact the mornings.  i was having to wait for it to be light enough outside which left me with not enough time to complete the distance needed before i had to get ready for work.  naturally if it is taking longer in the morning to brighten up, it is getting darker in the evening sooner, which rules out evening running.  i'm not the girl who is comfortable to run, by myself, when it is getting dark. my self defense ninja type skills aren't quite up to par.

injury:  somehow i injured my neck during a fitful night's sleep.  i sleep alone, sometimes with a cat, but generally alone, so i'm not sure what i was doing, but i woke up unable to turn my neck from side to side or look up or down.  that took place 2 1/2 weeks ago and i'm still stiff in the neck.  there was no way i could possibly run during that time.  it took everything i had to make it through the day without overdoing it.

all of these factors, weather, time and injury have left me without enough time to be prepared how i would like to be for race day.  bummer.

i'm still going.  i figure the race is 13.1 miles, i will run a mile, take a break at the mile marker, catch my breath, then run the next mile.  i will do this 13 times until i cross that finish line.  this is not how i envisioned running my first half, but it's going to have to do.

on a side note, i'm going to need a treadmill.  anyone willing to part with their dusty clothes rack?

be amazing...

in the time of selfie's 

something pretty awesome happens 

when you ask a random stranger to take your picture  

here we are with our best smiles

hips popped

legs cocked

 you name it we are posing at our best

but our random stranger wasn't satisfied with a boring posed shot

she tells us be amazing!

we don't really know what in the world she is talking about, but here you go

not quite done, but we are on our way

for three long time friends from small town lake stevens

this is what amazing looks like to us. 

mishaps of river floating...

my annual girls weekend brings me to leavenworth in a big beautiful house right on the river. don't ask me what part of leavenworth, because i've never paid that much attention, i'm just happy to be there.  it's a weekend full of laughter, copious amounts of food, some adult beverages, sunbathing, and a little mischief.  this weekend i had one goal: even out my tan.

about a month before the trip, i was out on my friend's boat for the evening.  we were just shooting the breeze when he said, "heather, you have a tan line that runs right down the side of your body."  huh?  what is he talking about, so i look.  sure enough, since i generally sit out in the sun with my backside to a lawn chair, only the front of me is tan.  instantly that friends episode where ross goes to the spray tan place pops in my head, "i'm an 8!!" at this point i have a fairly nice tan on my front side but the back is the same pasty white winter shade.  i tell him that i hate laying out in the sun on my stomach because i feel like i am suffocating. not sure if anyone else feels this way, but it seriously keeps me from tanning my backside.

i figure while i have two full days of sun soaking to do, i can plop onto on inner tube and hopefully even things up a bit.  so there i am, floating the river, tethered to shore so i don't get lost, and soaking up the rays. it was pretty peaceful and i didn't feel like i was suffocating.

if you look closely you can see the shore on the other side of the river.  it wasn't a really wide river, but wide enough that you should be able to float without chance of injury.  yes, there is a story coming.

day two of floating in the river, evening out my tan, and we have visitors.  a small group of fishermen casting their lines into the river.  the swirls of water behind me are apparently a good place to cast your hook.  so i'm floating with my back end towards the other shore, my friend ana is floating next to me and we are cackling about something, when all of a sudden my left arm is hit.

it felt like a rock had hit my arm.  i yelped, "ouch" and started looking around.  about the same time ana noticed that she had a fishing hook lying across her chest.  it was then i realized what hit my arm was the weight on the line to sail the hook through the air.

i look behind me at the yahoo that is trying to "catch" us and he is reeling like mad. ana starts yelling at him to "wait, wait!"  i don't know if he realized he has hooked ana, but it takes several attempts to get him to stop reeling in his line.  ana successfully unhooks herself and tosses his line far away from us.  she survived without injury, i on the other hand suffered a lump and bruise from the weight.

you would think that we would hear a "sorry about that" from the other side of the shore, but no. those darn fishermen said nothing.  in fact they just kept casting right where we were floating.  our fishermen friends were there most of the day. unfortunately for them, they never caught a thing.  all that work for nothing.

just for your viewing pleasure, here is that clip of ross and the spray tan.  i love this episode!

one is the loneliest number...

i purposely keep myself uber busy.  my days start at the crack of dawn and end when the sun goes down.  either i am at work, running kids all over the county, filling my head with school stuff, or on an adventure with family and friends.  i don't usually give myself too much of a break.  so last night, as i sat in my living room sort of watching a movie that i had really wanted to see, sipping on a beer that i usually really like but didn't like last night, i realized how lonely i was.  my eyes kept wandering to the vacant side of my couch and my mind kept wondering who was ever going to fill that vacant side.

there are aspects about sharing your life with someone that i truly miss.

1. conversation:  you know the back and forth of sharing your day.  even if you don't want to hear the specifics of their day, there is someone, an adult, that can't wait to talk to you. usually that person asks about yours and you froth at the mouth because you can't wait to tell them about something.  when you live without another adult there isn't another person to actually talk to.  sure i can text the message to someone, "hey suzie you will never guess what happened today?!" but it just isn't the same as watching someone engage in your day.  seeing them either light up and become completely engrossed or even when they tune you out and you punch them in the arm spouting off, "dude are you listening?!".

2.  snuggling:  after my kids go to bed, either i watch a show that i get from netflix (still on disc in the mail) or i read on my couch or in bed.  physical contact with another person is something i crave.  i'm not even talking sexual contact, just physical contact.  sitting close enough to each other that you feel their warmth.  maybe you touch feet every now and then.  maybe you wriggle your way under the crook of their arm and nestle in beside them.  whatever kind of contact, it is important to me and i miss having that contact on a regular basis.

3.  going on adventures:  i like to do things.  i am busy, i drag my kids all over tarnation experiencing life.  if my kids aren't around, i tend to go on adventures alone, but darn it, it would be so much more fun if i had to someone in my life to share that with.  for me adventures don't have to be big, planned out ordeals.  anything outside of the normal day to day routine is an adventure in my book.  for example the other night i was with a friend and we were trying to open a beer bottle with a quarter and a magnet (something i had seen on my facebook newsfeed).  it sounded so far fetched we had to try.  it didn't work, but for those ten minutes we were engaged in the activity we laughed, problem solved, and ribbed each other for thinking it would actually work. it was awesome, we were experiencing life together.

now i recognize that sharing your life with someone brings just as many hiccups as good things, but isn't that the whole point?  having those uncomfortable moments allows us to grow as individuals as well as a couple, which means that the good things about sharing your life with someone are just that much better.

anyway, i still don't know who is going to fill the vacant side of my couch (and bed) and honestly i'm not that worried about it.  when it's right it will happen and i will adjust my life to include someone else.  until then i will stay super busy experiencing life and being me.

being groomed...

funny thing about asking for inspiration, you go with a topic and then it brings up other ones.  so the same individual that suggested is the grass greener then asked, "is an emotional affair real?" 

have you ever had one of those moments where you want to reach through a screen and slap someone up side the head shouting, "yes, you fool!"  well, that was my reaction when the above question was asked.  thankfully i'm not a violent person, nor do i have super powers to reach through screens, because the question asker would've found himself with a wild cat to deal with.

i can only speak from my personal experience, but i know that my involvement with a man emotionally, eventually turned into something physical.  i can say with complete honesty, that this was never my intention.  i wasn't seeking affirmation, attention or passion from an outside source.  I can't pinpoint when the dynamics between us changed, but they did and i've had to live with that course of events ever since.

an emotional affair is a grooming process.  when my contact with this other person started, it was casual, platonic and never had the inkling of crossing a moral or physical line.  we were friends, i was married, he knew that, nothing was ever going to change, end of story.  except that wasn't the end of the story, the frequency of our contact increased, which led to a shift of context within the contact.  at some point, a dependency for the contact, a desire for more, and an intrigue of what was to come started to bloom within me.  before i knew it, the feelings associated with this other person held value even though i knew i shouldn't be feeling this way. 

all of this, all the feelings, the desire, and the intrigue developed without any sexual physical contact.  it wasn't until much later that the physical line was crossed.

i should stop here and say, i am not blaming this other person for putting me in this position.  i was, by all accounts, open to the friendship and an active participant in it's evolvement.  i trusted he had my best interest in mind and wasn't massaging the situation for his benefit.  years later, i still don't think the progression our friendship took was an intentional, calculated plan, even though some close to me beg to differ. anyhow, let's take a look at the grooming process.

Me: hey, how's it going?  i have a question, do you know where i can get (insert something)?
Him: hey, not bad. you?  yes, i do (answer to the question)
you exchange a couple of basics about general life, nothing specific.  a couple of days go by

Me:  hey.  thanks for the info, worked out great.
Him: hey.  no problem. catch you later.
this kind of stuff happens over several weeks maybe even months. then a little slip up happens a dirty joke, or the use of a pet name, or maybe even a "i was just thinking about you."  instead of shutting down this type of interaction or ignoring it, you play along and have now given the green light that you are okay with this type of interaction.  jump forward a week or two, a month or two, after playing along and now your interaction might go something like this.

Him:  morning sunshine.  what are you doing today? 
Me:  hi! i'm not sure yet.  do you want to get a cup of coffee?
now the pet name and the morning "wake-up" text is a frequent occurrence.  you start seeing this person on occasion but the face to face interaction is still within "friend" limits, even though your text conversations are crossing a line.  at this point there is still an opportunity to go back, but if this is the only source you are getting the warm fuzzies from it is really hard to ignore.

Him: morning sunshine.  any chance i can see you today?
Me: yes, I will figure out how to make that work.
at this point, you need the interaction and the physical proximity.  your exchanges have nothing to do with general information anymore it' s all about how you will see this person, complaining about the person you are committed to (to this other person), and maybe even planning out how you can make this a permanent thing. most likely you are hiding all forms of communication with this person.  even if you aren't sexually involved with this person (at this point) every other part of you is focused on this person. 

in my opinion, from personal experience, unless you shut down the borderline interaction from the get go, no matter how great your intentions are, it is really easy for things to progress without realizing how invested you are becoming.  like i said, i wasn't looking for affirmation, attention or passion from an outside source.  i didn't even realize that it was something that i was lacking until it started coming from an outside source. once it was being handed to me on a platter it was too tempting to turn away from.

i truly believe if you and your partner continue to "date" each other and actively work at keeping your relationship fresh and fun, there isn't a reason to be tempted by the forbidden apple.  this is just my theory. i am a divorced woman who hasn't had a serious relationship in three years, what do i really know?

anyway, the individual who asked the question and i, have had private conversations about this topic.  i am one hundred percent positive that an emotional affair is a real affair, whether or not it turns into a physical affair isn't the issue.  the point is you are engaging in intimate contact with a person outside of your committed relationship.  it is as simple as that for me.  however, the individual who posed the question is still on the fence saying, "i'm still not sure if the emotional affair is fabricated or factual". 

you now know my thoughts, what are yours?  is an emotional affair a "real" affair?

but first...

quick story because it just happened

and only this kind of stuff happens to me!

it is my lady time.  a couple of days early, but that is okay because this time i am prepared.  kind of.  i am using the facilities here at work to swap out my lady gear.  i am poised and ready to insert when the darn thing flips out of my hand and lands in the toilet bowl.

gasp!

i look between my legs into the bowl and the darn thing is swelling at rapid speed, sucking up all the water from the bowl.  i am kind of impressed at how much this thing holds, but that is way off track, i have an emergency.

what the heck am i supposed to do now?!

i only have the one and it is already in use.  it's 4:20 in the afternoon, almost time for me to head home.  well like any resourceful gal, i wad up some toilet paper, arrange it in my skivvies and ask to go home. 

but first, i had to share another mishap in flo's life. 

time to go home!

when will i learn...

i'm grumpy and tired

sick of many things

been feeling out of sorts

and although i can pinpoint

the angst

it's not fair to share details

because like always

it doesn't involve just me

so i will share just the thoughts in my noggin

i don't want to be your bandaid

your rug to wipe your feet on

your cheerleader to make you feel better

your cozy place to rest your head

or your nurse to ease your pain

unless you are all of those things for me

all relationships are give and take
if you are always giving
you feel used
if you are always taking
you should feel guilty

when will i ever learn
probably never
i am always going to be someone
who shares what i have to give
to the people around me
regardless of the type of relationship
we share
i simply don't know another way
to be me

conservative sexy...

conservative sexy.  those two words don't really go together.  when i think of the word conservative, an image of a woman wearing clothes with very little skin showing pops into my head.  she dresses in a way not to draw too much attention to her womanhood.  on the other hand, the word sexy conjures a completely different image in my head.  this woman is purposely drawing attention to her womanhood as if she is advertising she is ripe for the taking.  so what in the world is conservative sexy?

when i go out on the town, i don't dress overly provocative.  i may wear a simple pair of jeans and tee with a pair of sexy heels, or a body conscious outfit with an oversized cardigan and flats, or a pair of skinny jeans, loose top and boots.  i tend to pick one piece that is a little sexy and eye catching but keep the rest fairly simple and conservative.  you are not going to find me in a low cut top, painted on jeans, and sexy heels.

i have a few reasons for this.  one, i'm not comfortable in such revealing clothes.  i will be revealing for you in the privacy of my own home, but i don't need every tom, dick, and harry sizing up my groceries.  two, if that is the look a man is into, he would be really disappointed if i saw him again since i don't normally dress like that.  three, it just seems like i'm trying too hard to be noticed dressed that way. 

over the weekend, my girlfriends and i went to the local karaoke bar.  we had been at the river all day, it was 90 degrees outside, and we were just looking to sing a few songs.  we all put on nicer clothes than we would have if we were just sitting around the house, but none of us were pimped out.

wife beater, camo cargo skirt, and flip flops

okay so my skirt is a little short, but i have a test on when it is too short.  when you sit down, if your crotch is making contact with the seat...too short.  i really don't want to bump uglies with a stranger by sitting down on a seat.  so my rule of thumb is to make sure there is a barrier of fabric (my clothes) in between my crotch and whatever crotch was sitting there before me.

anyway, we got to the place, found a table, and settled in for the night. it wasn't long after we sat down that a table of young men meandered over, taking their turns trying to butter us up, but we weren't biting.  they gave up pretty quickly, but the right prey came through the door not long after.

a group of loud, scantily dressed ladies, oozing "buy me a drink i will make it worth your while" entered. nosy me watched how quickly the men snatched them up and how easily these ladies slipped into their role. i leaned over to my friend and said, "are you watching those ladies?"  she hadn't been watching, but joined me.

the young man who had previously hit on me was now wrapped all around a tall drink of water in a dress that looked like a shirt with no pants and five inch heels. in a matter of moments they were very cozy and looked as if they had been an item for months.

i leaned back over to my friend and said, "i could find a man being like that."  she looked at me, we both said "eww" at the same time, then belly laughed at ourselves.

i don't plan on becoming one of those slutty bar whores in the near future, but it baffles me at how many ladies are comfortable in that role, yet they are the same ones that complain that men only want them for sex. come on ladies, we can definitely do better.  put on some clothes and stop reducing yourselves to just a piece of ass for a lousy drink. and men, if you just want a piece of ass, buy the "pussy and ass" from the sex shop down the road.  this lovely contraption won't ever tell you "she" has a headache, willing let's you enter the back door, and "she" won't become emotionally attached to you.

i know i can't change the world, but i can keep making noise.  

midstream...

having the flu as an adult is the pits.  i recently had a flu experience like none other.  the last time i was this sick was on thanksgiving a few years ago.  it was so bad i missed black friday shopping with the girls and i lost 8 pounds in 4 days.  great weight loss program if you don't mind a raw butt from endless crapping and constant heartburn from throwing up repeatedly.  if i had my choice i would rather starve myself and be amped up on diet pills than endure that again.

anyway, this whole thing started on a thursday.  it was my time to bring lunch in for the office.  i made a pesto chicken recipe that i had been wanting to try but didn't want to try out on my kids.  i felt fine when i woke up, but once i got to work i could feel something coming on.  by the time lunch rolled around, i felt like a giant sand worm was trying to climb out of my stomach through my throat.  there was something coming but still trying to wiggle its way to the surface.

the boss man is always very excited for lunch on thursday.  he came bounding down the hall exclaiming "lunch time!"  with a sour look on my face i came out of my office to explain what lunch was and that i wasn't going to be eating it.  the conversation went like this:

me: enjoy.  i'm not eating that.
boss man:  is there something wrong with it?
me: nope, i just can't eat it.
boss man: why?
me:  i will puke if i eat that.
boss man:  are you sure there's nothing wrong with it?
me: no, i just don't feel good.  i don't want to risk it.

feeling brave, the office dished up lunch and headed for the break room.  i joined them, pushed away from the table, holding down the sand worm.  as lunch continued the boss man kept commenting on how my skin was getting paler and lobbing your typical puke jokes across the table at me.  i can't remember any of them now, but i was a good sport and laughed.  towards the end of lunch, i leaped out of my chair and raced down the hall to the restroom.  needless to say i was sent home.

by the time i made it home, i was shaking uncontrollably, my whole entire body hurt, i had the chills, a headache and a fever.  i still hadn't dislodged the sand worm, it was still working its way up my esophagus.  i decided to change out of my work clothes into my cozies.  i realized i had to use the restroom so into my little bathroom i headed.  on my way there the urge to pee was getting stronger, but before i could get there i peed all over myself.

as soon as i started peeing, i was trying to stop midstream, because i wasn't at the potty yet.  however, i couldn't stop.  what the heck?  since when can't i control my bodily functions?  aren't i too young for these types of problems?  i don't want to have to start wearing adult diapers!

so not only do i feel terrible, and getting worse by the moment, but my sand worm is still lodged in my throat, i have a puddle to clean up, and i need to take a shower.  the shower was an awful experience.  i like a super hot shower, but when you feel bad hot showers don't feel good and the water felt like tiny daggers being shot at me.  horrible experience.  so everything is cleaned up, the bathroom and myself, i'm in my cozies and go to lay down.

wouldn't you know it, i have to pee again.  and once again i don't make it to the bathroom.  what in the world kind of sickness is this that you lose bladder control. i am thankful it is just pee and i'm not pooing all over, but seriously this is an embarrassing thing for one to endure.  i get everything cleaned up, again, and call my mom.  for those of you who aren't aware, my mom is a nurse.  i rarely go to the doctor, i opt to call mom first.  i'm also really bad at calling my parents, so they get super excited when i call.

the phone is ringing and mom answers:
mom:  heather!  how are you?
me: ugh. hi mom.  i need nurse mom.
mom: oh okay, what's the matter?
me: i have some sort of flu, but there is a strange side effect.  i have no bladder control and have peed myself twice.
mom: snickering on the other end of the line.  then does it hurt to pee?
me: no.
mom: does it have an odor?
me: uh, no!  i just can't control it.
mom: probably just part of the virus, that should go away.

this really wasn't the best news, but it certainly wasn't terrible news.

over the next couple of days, i tested my abilities by attempting to stop midstream. i was able to make it to the facilities without any mishaps, after my two mishaps, but it took the whole weekend to regain midstream stoppage.  coincidentally by the end of the weekend i was also feeling much, much better.

this was the weirdest flu experience i've ever had.  i never threw up but that sand worm stayed lodged in my throat until my fever went away.  speaking of the fever i had that for two and half days.  the body aches were present for a few days as well as the chills.  and the peeing, well i'm glad that wasn't a lasting side effect.

i should report you...

so this tale happened last year.  i've never been brave enough to post, until now. there will always be sketchy people in the world, whether you meet them in person or virtually.  be smart and trust your instincts.   

as you know, i have had some crazy experiences when it comes to dating, whether it be online or a by chance meeting.  however, none so unsettling or eye opening as this.  i had stopped the process of actively looking to date, it is an exhausting process and frankly i don't have the time to put that much effort in to it.  so, i had once again canceled my subscription and was letting it run out, when i received an email.

the email was really nice, which prompted me to check out this man's profile.  on virtual paper, it seemed as if this man had been dealt a rough hand, but was ready to rejoin the masses.  according to his profile, he is a widow, has a young daughter, and is just getting his toes wet attempting to date.  i responded.

we exchanged a few emails within the site email system and then exchanged personal emails.  at the time when we exchanged personal emails, he said he was leaving the country to attend to some family issues overseas, pertaining to his parents.  he said he would be gone for a couple of weeks, but wanted to keep in touch.  i didn't expect to hear much from him, but devoured any email he sent.

about a week into his stay overseas, i started noticing some inconsistencies.  the time frames weren't adding up, he would repeat things to me as if he was telling me for the first time, and he wasn't answering any questions i asked.  i was chalking it up to two strangers communicating through email and that it would be different in person.  being able to see physical expressions, hear their voice and stop when something didn't make sense for clarification, usually lends itself to clearer conversations.

every email he sent, which was daily, was very heartfelt.  he would talk about how much he missed his daughter and how he couldn't wait to get back to finally meet me.  i will admit that he was saying all the right things.

then came an email that really sent up a red flag.  he asked me if i had canceled my subscription because he was confident that we were going to be great together and he didn't want me communicating with other men.  i immediately fired back an email that said, although i had canceled my subscription, it had nothing to do with him and if this is his position about the woman he has in his life i wasn't interested.  he responded right away, saying he was joking, backtracking, trying to smooth things over.  i wasn't convinced.

we are now several weeks into his trip that was only supposed to be two at the longest, when i received another email.  this one was really strange, "i need to talk to you tonight, i have a favor i need to ask you that i can't disclose over email."  i read it a couple of times just to make sure i was reading it correctly.  i replied that i found the content of the email sketchy. he countered with a story of how he needed money to finalize whatever he was doing and didn't know how he was going to come up with it.  then came the request, "can you lend me $$$?"

my body was covered in goose bumps.  oh my word, this person, who has shared so much, is running a scam.  does he really think i am that stupid that i would send a complete stranger money?

for one, i didn't have the money that he was asking for.  two, i wouldn't send it to him even if i had it.  i found the request to be grossly inappropriate.  i am a stranger to this human, we haven't met or talked on the phone.  the only contact i have had up to this point, was email, and as you read i was already skeptical. 

he asked me one more time, for a lesser amount, stating that he had come up with some of it and could really use my help.  he said, he would be back in two days and would return the money upon returning the states.  i again said no.  he completely disappeared.  i contacted him one last time, which turned into a threat by him that if i shared any of this publicly he would sue me, for what i'm not sure.

i am tempted to disclose the information that i have about this person, but for all i know the contact info is completely false.  i did keep all the emails that he sent, one because i am too lazy to delete them, but once the red flags starting flying, it seemed important to do so.  

near death experience...

you know that old saying, careful what you wish for?  i had said, nothing exciting is happening in my life right now, well i am definitely eating those words.  it seems like i am on a collision course for a set of three potentially dangerous happenings.  if you recall i caught my arm on fire last week.  in order to protect myself, my daughter, and my home i have thrown away the cursed curling iron and my beloved old pink robe.

i had a fairly uneventful weekend, some family time, a little friend time, a couple of good runs, oh and i am almost died.  no joke.  i'm not even exaggerating.  i do that sometimes, but this event, this near death experience was literally the most scared i have ever been and my entire life flashed before my eyes.  along with two scenarios of how the event was going to end.

my latest "adventure" has to do with my car.  there is a ton of technical car talk, that frankly i don't know and really don't care to know, so you will just have to bare with my layman's words.  anyway, i had gone out for a run on saturday, but my running app crapped out half way through my run, so i have no idea how far i went. seeing as sunday was a rest day, i thought i would go walk the run i did to see if i could (1) get my app to work and (2) see how far i ran.  with my plan hatched, i jumped into my car and took off down the road.

she, i refer to my car as a she, started up just fine.  a nice purr coming from the engine.  i turned out of my driveway and headed south on a super sketchy stretch of road.  in the last few years there has been numerous accidents, some fatal, and a vast variety of humans walk this stretch of road.  hopefully you are getting that this is a busy road, with not only foot traffic but lots of cars that don't always drive safely. it wasn't long after i turned onto the road that something happened.

i had my foot on the gas pedal, just as one would do when they are accelerating in traffic, but i noticed that my engine was revving higher than normal and my speed was increasing.  i took my foot off the gas pedal yet my car was still accelerating. that is when i started to panic and stepped on the brake, which wasn't doing anything.  despite stepping on the brake i was still accelerating.  i'm sure beads of sweat were running off my forehead and i was undoubtedly pitting out.  up ahead of me was a very busy, kind of confusing intersection and i could see it was full of cars.

so i mentioned two scenarios...

the first involved me not being able to stop and plowing through the dozens of cars ahead of me into the gas station on the other side of the intersection.  not only would i have killed myself, but i definitely would have injured many other motorists just out on a sunday evening.

the second involved my car bursting in a spectacular hollywood explosion and my charred body recovered strapped in my seat with a permanent look of terror on my face.  at this point the engine was revved out, meaning the needle was all the way on the right in the red zone.  i've never heard my car sound that way before.  i thought if i can't shut this off it will most likely explode, which would mean imminent death for me.

both scenarios scared the crap out me

and to be honest

i really wasn't ready to die in a car crash

everything happened so fast and i was in a serious state of panic, i'm still not sure how i got stopped.  i remember standing on my brakes, listening to the engine continue to rev and feeling the car trying to obey the brakes but wanting to race freely.  somehow i managed to get stopped enough to put my car in park and shut it off.  a whole lot of awful screeching and grinding noises came from under the hood, but at that point i didn't give two hoots, i had averted death, screech away. 

i called the only person i knew to be home, my ex.  i could tell when he answered the phone he thought i was just being a hysterical girl and that i was probably exaggerating just a little bit.  he asked me a couple of questions:

him: have you tried turning it back on?

me: heck no! i'm afraid to do so.

him: just turn it on.

me: the brakes aren't working what if i lurch into a building or something?

him: put it in park, it won't go anywhere and turn it on.

me: okay.  i hold my breath and turn it on, the sounds of an angry beast being held captive released from under the hood.

him: what happened?

me: it revved out and i didn't even touch a pedal.  can't you hear that?

him: not over the phone, just stay put i will be there in a minute.

sure enough he came to my rescue, sitting on the side of the road haphazardly parked.  he started asking me more things, and i just said "try it, turn on the car."  so he turned it on, the beast screamed wildly, and he quickly turned it off.  "holy crap, that is scary!"  i shrugged my shoulders, rolled my eyes and gave the i was trying to tell you look.

here comes the technical car lingo that i don't know.  turns out there was a small piece of plastic that was keeping the throttle valve open.  i have no idea how a small piece of plastic found its way inside the black tubing, but somehow it did.  the valve was propped open just like when nemo put a rock in the fan to stop the suction so he could wiggle his way through the tube back into the tank. 

good news...i didn't die.  i didn't harm anyone else.  the problem has been fixed and life carries on as i know it.

bad news...this is only number two.  so far i've had arm on fire and almost fire-y car crash.  not sure what else the world has in store for me, but i will be more than ready to be done with this series of three "adventures".

up in flames...

just last week i had said nothing exciting has been happening in my life.  i'm not sure if my mishap this morning really qualifies as "exciting", but it was definitely something.  for those of you who know me pretty well, you know i have an irrational fear of fires.  well, today marks my first experience with being on fire! exciting or sheer horror?  let's get on with the story and find out, shall we?

my summer schedule allows me to sleep in and enjoy a very leisurely morning prior to work.  with all my extra time i can actually iron my clothes, with my badass rowenta iron, instead of fluffing them in the dryer.  i even have time to get fancy with my hair; curl it or pull it up, only to get pissed off that it isn't working and wear it straight down like i normally do.  this morning i decided to iron my jacket and curl my hair.  however, the universe had a completely different idea for me.

my morning cup of joe tasted perfect.  shower went off without a hitch; no razor nicks or soap in my eye.  i had a plan for my outfit, which generally takes me a long time to figure out.  my make up went on smoothly and i was feeling fab about my morning so far.  got my locks blown out and instead of plugging in my flat iron and rocking the silky smooth mane, i plugged in my 2 1/2 inch barrel curling iron to try my hand at loose playful curls.

before i go on with the curling iron stuff, i should set the scene of my bathroom. you may remember from my previous story, my bathroom also houses my laundering machines, my cat's stuff, a toilet and a sink, oh and that nasty scale is in there too.  i set up my ironing board in front of the washer and dryer.  my jacket is draped over the ironing board and the iron is heating up at the other end of the ironing board.  i'm standing in front of my sink, because that is where the mirror is with my hair sectioned off, ready to start curling.

i grab my first chunk of hair, wind it up in the iron, let it sit for a moment then release.  ah yes, the hair is curling nicely, i think my hair might actually work out today.  i work my way around the back of my head and everything is still going swell.  i come the last chunk of hair and this is where my mishap takes place.

i grab the last chunk, bring the iron up to my hair and hear a pop.  i look to where the noise came from, which is towards the outlet my two irons are plugged in and notice that the sleeve of my robe is on fire!  from my wrist to my elbow i'm up in flames.

remember stop, drop and roll?  well that doesn't even enter my mind.  i throw my curling iron across the room towards the dryer and start flapping my arm up and down like i'm learning how to use wings for the first time.  in addition to frantically flapping my arm around, i am trying like hell to get out of my robe. usually i play this game with my robe on how long it will stay tied so i don't end up flashing myself in the mirror, but at this moment the tie seemed to be cemented closed, i was tugging and pulling, but it wasn't budging.

turns out i didn't need to remove my robe.  the frantic flapping of my arm did the trick and i successfully put out the fire.  i have no idea how my sleeve caught on fire, i didn't see that happen, just heard the pop.  my ugly pink robe now has one  black sleeve and smells terrible.  guess i will need a new one.

if i'm going to be honest, starting my monday with a fire was a little more excitement than i really needed.  to make my monday even better, i never got my jacket ironed which meant plan b for my outfit.  and i ended up with straight hair because i didn't trust my curling iron. happy monday y'all.

140.4...

numbers...they are the devil.  we shouldn't look at numbers on clothing tags, numbers on scales, numbers that represent our age, or numbers that tell us how far we have gone and how fast we got there.  we just shouldn't look at them, but i'm sure you still look.  i still look.  those darn numbers taunt me.

my scale.  i have shared this story many times, but it might be worth sharing it again.  one of my very favorite families and best friends moved out of the country four years ago.  my dear friends divvied out their belongings between their friends, family and a storage unit.  i have been housing a few things: kitchen table and chairs, two dressers, a cabinet-y thing-a-ma-bob, an ironing board, a few pieces of artwork, a "jetski", and the scale.

this is a fancy schmancy scale.  it is programmable, digital, tells you other things besides your weight and is kind of fashionable in a "i'm either going to make you hate yourself or love yourself" kind of way.  the scale was programmed for the man of the household and i've never been able to figure out how to change that, but frank whenever you're ready your scale still knows you.  if i remember, i jump on the scale using the "guest" feature, although i hardly consider myself a guest.  this feature makes you manually enter your age, gender and height.

i store this scale in my bathroom.  that seems like a standard place to keep it.  it lurks under a rolling cart that houses other bathroom appliances such as flat irons, curling irons, clothes irons and other things of that nature, that never talk back or purposely make me cringe.  the scale is typically shoved under the cart as far back as i can push it because even just the edge of it makes me cringe and i'm rarely satisfied with my results when using it.

for some unknown reason i decided to pull the scale out today.  now i'm a fairly clean person but my hair falls out daily, i shed like a great dane, and for some reason my bathroom is pretty dusty.  it might be because it also houses my laundering machines and my cat, oscar, shares this space with me. what i'm getting at, is when i stuck my hand underneath the cart and pulled the scale out it looked like it was wearing a sweater.  a sweater made from my hair, dust and probably some oscar hair.  gross!

after a quick dusting, because i don't need any extra help putting numbers up on the screen, it was time to set up the scale for a "guest".   i enter in all the pertinent information: 38, female, 5'8" and prepare myself for what might be coming.  to get the most accurate reading possible, i step out of my tired pink slippers and shed my oversize uglier than ugly pink robe, and take a deep breath.

ugh! that is my actual reading, this morning, thursday, june 26th. 

my first reaction is "lies! you are a filthy liar!" there is no way that the digital print out is correct.  my clothes still reasonably fit like they always have.  some of my summer clothes don't quite button, but those have always been "end of summer" clothes, i've still got time.  140.4!  i quickly get off the scale before it gives the rest of my reading that i don't even want to see (imminent death if you start exercising soon).

i've mentioned my winter ass a few times and have vowed to do something about it.  are you ready?  i have committed myself to three events that will definitely help in transforming my winter ass.  in october i will, now i said i was going to do this last year and ended up not doing, but this year i am running a 1/2 marathon.  i've also committed to running a full marathon in june.  the biggest motivator of all, i promised my sister i would ride naked in the solstice day parade with her next year.  time to get the jiggly bits a little less jiggly!

depends & pull-ups...

when you are in the dating scene, and still of child bearing age, the question of do you want more kids? comes up a lot.  this is a question that i hate answering.  i have a very well thought out, definite answer...

i do NOT want to birth anymore children that i have to keep. 

at this point in my life i am not looking for a potential parent for the children that i currently have or future children that i don't ever intend on having.  i am wanting a partner for me.  someone to share my life with. call it selfish, but my children are almost teens and in the homestretch of being under my constant care, it is time for me to invest my time with someone who is going to be there when my children are out of the house. besides my selfish need of wanting a man for me, and not for my kids, i have four pretty solid reasons on why i'm good with the children i have. 

my age.  i am on a slippery slope into 40.  this may not seem like a huge deal, there are plenty of women who have children in their 40's, but i don't want to be one of them.  i don't want to have to wait until i'm 60 before my flock has flown the coop.  every year i seem to feel more exhausted, more run down and require heavier dose of coffee to supplement my existence.  i can't imagine getting up every two hours to feed a newborn, or schlepping around 30 pounds of crap everywhere until they are of school age, or finding the patience to potty train, deal with teens, or trying to keep up with the twenty something moms at the play ground.  i'm sorry, but if i'm in depends and my toddler is in pull-ups i will cry. 

money.  raising children is crazy expensive, there is no denying that.  it is likely that any man i decide to link my life with will already have children of his own.  two seems to be a popular number, so we will most likely have four kids between us already.  that is a lot of people to take care of: weddings, college educations, clothing and feeding them.  to add another one in there makes my head spin and seems financially irresponsible in this day and age.  as a single mom who is by no means wealthy, supporting my two ratchets is a big task in and of itself. 

risk.  nobody goes into marriage and having kids thinking i can't until we are divorced, raising our kids in separate homes with different rules and splitting visitation. if you think that, please, please don't get married or have kids.  having an ex-husband when you have kids is still like having a husband.  i still have to coordinate schedules with him and talk to him about the kids, this is something that is never going to go away.  statistics show that second marriages have less of a success rate than first marriages do.  so here we go, i get married again, have a child with that man, we get divorced and now i have to coordinate my life and my kid's lives with two ex-husbands.  i already have a hard enough time managing a schedule with one ex, i really don't want to have to juggle birthdays, holidays, weekends, summer vacations, etc. with two ex-husbands.  i would rather have my teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. 

love.  i don't ever want my kids to feel like i am replacing them with a new shiny kid.  stick with me for a minute.  i remember what it is like to have a baby.  you gush and swoon all over that little thing.  so then my kids, and his kids, are going to see us fawning over this new baby that we've made from our love for each other.  i don't think i would intentionally treat my kids, or his kids differently, but i know for a time that my focus would shift from my kids to this new shiny kid who need,s and should have, my undivided attention. i'm not sure if this makes any sense, but in my head it makes perfect sense.

sometimes real grown up problems are a drag.  i recently met a man that i like, but he wants more kids.  it is unfair for me to expect him to change his mind, just like it is unfair for me to change my mind and honestly a few years ago, i was more open to the idea, but at this point it is a deal breaker for me.  

in the line of fire...

i'm catching a little heat about having some "must-haves" in a potential partner. part of me understands the firing squad and the other part wants to say, you are full of shit if you claim you don't have a list or standard!!  i think the heat stems from the usage of "must-haves".  listing my must-haves makes it seem like i am limiting my options to a specific group of individuals.  but i would challenge you to prove that you don't have a list, whether you want to focus on the "must-haves" or the "deal breakers", i'm going to bet that everyone has a list of things that they can live with, can't live with, and will consider on a case by case basis.

when you are looking at linking your life with another human, hopefully forever, it seems to me that having some traits or qualities that are important to you should factor in.  these factors are my must-haves, and this point seems to have been missed, but my must-haves don't revolve around physical traits. and although you may not want to admit it, physical attraction does play into the mix.  it may not be the number one thing you focus on, but it definitely factors in.

so let's break this down a little further, wants vs. must-haves.

wants:  to me this is a list of general things that turn you on.  for instance, blue eyes.  i love blue eyes.  i always wanted blue eyes, i was born with hazel.  i would love the privilege of gazing into blue eyes every day.  is this something that i have to have?  absolutely not.  more important than the color of his eyes, is how he looks at me with those eyes.  a brown eyed fella who can look at me with love, respect, and passion will win me over as opposed to the gorgeous blue eyes that express nothing.

must-have:  to me this a quality about that person i find valuable.  for instance, being active - no couch potatoes.  this is a requirement.  i like to do things: hike, run, play sports, explore my community, go to shows, etc.  if the only thing you want to do is sit at home to watch movies and/or play video games the likelihood of us being a compatible match is not so great.  if we don't enjoy doing some of the same things together, then i will be out doing those things with someone else and probably creating a connection with them.  maintaining, let alone strengthening, a connection with someone who i don't interact with would be tough.

this brings me to connections.  connections happen whether we want them to or not.  am i so narrow minded to think my ideal connection is going to come packaged a certain way?  no.  do i  naturally gravitate to a certain look?  yes.  i bet if you really analyzed who you've been most attracted to, you will notice you also have a pattern.  that is because it's natural, we are simply hard wired to look for certain things.  however, that isn't the only deciding factor, not for me, and i'm guessing not for anyone else.  have you ever met someone you thought was a knock out, but they opened their mouth and you instantly found them disgusting? i have. on the flip side, i've met people who don't make me swoon, but the way they carry themselves and the conversations we have, make them far more attractive than i initially thought.

at the end of the day, i don't think it is unreasonable to want certain things from a potential life partner.  if we have no idea about what we value in another person there is no place to start.

not bad for a hobbit...

i seem to talk about dating a lot, but dating does seem like the only semi interesting thing that happens to me. the rest of my life is a predictable laundry list of "to-do's".  nobody cares about that stuff, and to be honest, nobody really cares about my dating life either, except for me.  regardless, here is another installment of flo's dating life.

about three years ago, sitting in one of my favorite bars, i had a discussion with a fella.  we were comparing our "must-haves" in a potential partner.  mine are pretty basic: employed, financially responsible, active (no couch potatoes), good sense of humor, and someone who is taller than me. when i mentioned the height thing, the fella i was with scoffed.  he said at this point in his life, height was irrelevant, he was looking for a real connection with another human.  in my head, i said, yeah, that's because you are short.

fast forward a couple of years.  my list hasn't really changed.  i still would like my dude to be employed, financially responsible, good sense of humor, and active.  if i got to walk into a store and pick out my ideal guy physically, he would have dark hair, blue eyes and stand around 6 feet tall.  he would rock some facial hair (i love facial hair), maybe wear glasses (i really dig the nerdy glasses type), would have a smaller frame (i don't like my guys too broad), and he would have an inviting happy face, the kind that you never get tired of looking at.  i get there is a lot of emphasis on the physical traits, but we are talking the perfect dude: physically, mentally, and whatever else you consider when hand picking the perfect partner.

anyway, height has always been a must-have for me.  i have always equated taller than me with a safety thing; he will be able to protect me because he is bigger.  bigger in height.  bigger in body mass.  bigger in bravado.  i have admittedly bypassed all men that are the same height or shorter than me, but is that really fair? probably not.

here's the deal, i have had this ideal in my head and so far what i have thought i'm looking for hasn't worked. the men i've met, who check off all the must-have boxes, haven't been ideal, in fact they have been complete disasters.  is it because i just haven't met the right person?  probably.  should i expand my scope and not be so focused on the physical must-haves?  maybe. 

i'm beginning to think that maybe my wise friend, from a few years ago, is on to something.  could it be that i have spent too much time focusing on appearance i have missed an opportunity to really connect with someone?  it just might be time to expand my scope and not exclude a whole class of people who weren't given the gift of height. 

just so we are clear here, this is not to say that i am entertaining actual hobbits the ones with hairy feet.  it might be time, but i do have a threshold. (wink)