Smitten with Him

grown-up stuff happens here sometimes

Discussion Ad Nauseam

AtPeaceLast week I was having a huge struggle with my feelings about Mick.

I met this Dreamboat through Tinder while trying to detach from him a bit, expecting it to just be a weekend hookup. That’s not how it turned out.

After my first weekend with Dreamboat, my mother came into town for a couple of days for Thing #2’s graduation. My ex-in-laws were also in town as well as one of the girls’ cousins.

Dreamboat didn’t need much attention. He works 3rd shift and knew my family was in town so we spoke briefly on the phone a couple of times and texted a couple of times, nothing big. I paid an equal amount of attention to Mick.

Unfortunately Mick didn’t think it was enough. Last Monday afternoon he had a tooth removed and he spent the next two days in excruciating pain. I know how that feels and had spent the week prior commiserating with him about toothaches. When I wasn’t around to do that, he got upset. And, because he was deliriously in pain, he was telling himself stories that I was leaving him.

I had lunch with Mick Monday afternoon. I wanted to spend some time with him before everything started to get crazy.

After that, Mom got into town Monday night. I spent Tuesday with mom and daughters. Thing #2’s graduation was Wednesday afternoon. Mom’s flight out was Wednesday night.

It was fast and over in the blink of an eye.

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Ahhh, FetLife

I have ‘met’ a few men through FetLife (here’s a post about one of them), but I’ve only met two in person.

The first man was back at the end of April, right before TC flew out to meet me in May. He was my age. We got together twice, but I didn’t like him so much. Once he told me he was married, that was the end. He wanted to continue things, but I explained to him I no longer wanted to be the “other woman” (that and the fact that I didn’t really like his whiny ass very much).

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My New Phone


I’ve been holding out to get a smart phone.

Last week, right before my trip to Houston, I finally relented and ordered one.

As a reward to myself for waiting so very long, I decided to splurge and get the new Samsung Galaxy S6 (not the Edge – even though I kind of wish I had… The one I have is $8 less a month).

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Being a Mom: Finances and Fatherhood


Last Thursday evening, Thing #2 and I got into a lovely row.

It started with her defending Doom-n-Gloom. For the first few minutes it was mostly civil: I have no problem with her standing up for her father, when she’s being reasonable.

I remember how I used to get when I was 17: entitled, presumptuous, a total know-it-all…

She was being all of that.

Then she said, “You’re taking an unreasonable amount of money from Dad every month. He can’t save money for anything.”

I stood up and looked her directly in the eye and said, “Your father pays me $200 a month and buys 80% of our groceries. He reimburses me for the $3,000+ in expenses it takes for me to maintain this household. Don’t tell me how I am being when you have no idea.”

“But I don’t know what’s going on, Mom. You never tell me how much you make or how much the bills are.”

“That’s because it’s none of your business and, if you wanted to know, this is not the way to ask. Please don’t assume that I am being the ‘bad guy’ here.” Then I got out the financial statements that we have prepared showing our individual incomes and our expenses. (To be honest, when I filled mine out, I was actually blown away at the amount I pay as opposed to the amount that he does. But, he carries their insurance… And I am divorcing him…)

I handed those financial statements to her and told her to look them over. When she refused, I sat down with her and I went over every single item I pay for and how much it actually costs me. Then his. It blew her mind. It blew my mind. So much that I was totally on the verge of breaking…

Which is what happened when Thing #2 brought up how Thing #1 treats their father/Doom-n-Gloom. At first, I explained as calmly as I could that it is IN FACT her father’s responsibility to treat both of his daughter’s civilly and with respect. I am a stickler for fairness between the two when it comes to my children.

Thing #2 was telling me that I didn’t know what I was talking about. That Thing #1 needs to be nicer to her father and I have to stop making excuses for her all the time.

I completely lost it. I was already angry, but that presumptuous child had no place telling me how an daughter/father relationship dynamic should work. I don’t talk about it much on my blog, but my father doesn’t talk to me unless he absolutely has to. Period. He will never make initial contact. My mother is the tie that binds. My brother is cool but busy trying to keep up with his best friends ↓

Here’s an example of how my father feels about me:

My mother had a heart attack 6 years ago, 2 years after we moved to Denver. My brother called to tell me Mom was in the hospital.

He also told me what Dad had said to him earlier that day:

Don’t bother calling your sister to tell her. She doesn’t care anyway.

My brother might be a fake Christian and a wanna be, but he doesn’t lie and he’s not intentionally cruel like my father.

I was grateful he told me.

Back to present time… There was a lot of yelling after this. Doom-n-Gloom finally came in and changed the subject back to the original: money.

He explained to Thing #2 that he doesn’t have a problem with the amount of money that he has to pay. It’s perfectly reasonable.

I thanked him for deflecting her. Then she proceeded to yell at him for 30 minutes. When she was done, she called her ex-boyfriend-now-best-friend so she could yell at him for another 30 minutes.

This entire time, Thing #1 was cleaning the kitchen to stay out of the entire ordeal.

Once Thing #2 was done with me and moved on to her father, I came upstairs and unloaded on a friend (who I will be telling you about tomorrow). We chatted. He was supportive. I felt better and went to sleep after that. I didn’t want to talk to Thing #2 again before bed. I was calm enough to fall asleep and I didn’t want to ruin that…

Selfish. I know.

The next morning I apologized to Thing #2. I was mean and said things I shouldn’t have said. I acted in an unmotherly way.

“I’m sorry for being so mean to you last night.”

“I forgive you, Mom. But you know that doesn’t make it right.” Then, she mumbled under her breath,“I’m sorry, too.” I barely heard her.

“Please could you repeat that last part? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I’m sorry, too, Mom.”

I held my tongue in regards to her flippant comment in regards to “making it right” and told her I accepted her apology as well.

She walked to school that morning.

When I got home, she apologized for being such a bitch that morning when she accepted my apology.

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Getting Along With Mother

My mother sent me a bitchy email last Friday. I would like to dissect the hell out of it, starting with “Happy Friday”, but I will refrain.

Moms email

Then I sent one back to her. Not quite as bitchy as hers but definitely upset (you can fill in all but one of the black spots below with Thing #1).

Moms email my response

There is some back story here that you don’t know, but I think this pretty much makes sense without any more context.

She called me back that evening at 6:30 my time. I refused to answer it, because I was still on my commute home, and I had definitely NOT cooled down yet.

She left a message.

If you can’t tell, I really don’t like my mother. Not that it matters, but no one else does either (there’s a blog-troll who lurks around here and she reminds me of my mother)

After I had a more sufficient amount of time to cool off, I left her a voicemail early Sunday afternoon. I wrote it all down before I called her, and I did not deviate from the words I wrote. I said:

I decided to leave you a message today instead of calling you directly because I know that Sunday can be a busy day for you and I didn’t want to interrupt something that you already have going on. Also, I need to tell you that I am still very upset with you about Friday and I don’t think that I am ready to have a conversation with you that is not emotionally charged. Communication with you is very challenging for me because it brings up a lot of past emotions that I would rather leave in the past. But, if you still feel the need to talk to me about this, I will be available this afternoon to take your call.

About 40 minutes later, she called me back. She started off the conversation by apologizing profusely and told me that she was really frustrated with my daughter and it was wrong for her to take those feelings of anger out on me.

Then she said, “Except Thing #1 won’t return my phone calls or talk to me.” (Gee, Mom. I wonder why that is…)

My mother and I have never had a relationship. I will take half of the blame, but she won’t take any. We have just recently been able to act more like mother and daughter in a civil-type way, but it’s very, very difficult and I only do it for HER sake.

Near the end of the conversation, my mom said/asked, “I’ve taken my part and apologized for saying hateful things in the heat of the moment, don’t you regret some of the things you said to me?”

My response was, “No, Mom. I thought really hard about what I was going to say to you both in my email Friday and today while we’ve been talking. I have tried not to be accusatory and I was very honest with you about my feelings.”

“Well, then, I guess there’s nothing left to say.”

“I guess not. Have a good afternoon, Mom.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

(I hate saying those words when I don’t feel them. It makes them completely meaningless.)

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My Daughter is so Mean

Thing #2 was so mean to me last night.Girl Yelling Close Up

She told me that every time I say “I love you” to her, she only hears “I hate you”

She told me that I don’t care about her or anything about her

She told me that I never wanted her and that I regret having her as my child

She called me a fucking idiot

She told me that she wants to kill herself

That she thinks about running away every single day

I told her that if she hates it so bad, she is free to leave

She told me that I am a horrible mother over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over

I told her she was a liar for all the times she said that she loved me and that she was thankful I am her mother

Angry MotherThe fight went on for at least an hour

I took away her computer

Now she is mad because she can’t do her homework

She has to work on the desktop computer in her father’s bedroom

I took away her phone

Of course, now she is mad she can’t call her boyfriend

I almost told her she couldn’t even see her boyfriend until she got a better attitude

This morning she asked me if I would give her a ride or if I wanted her to walk to school

I told her that I was still very upset with her (and I held my trembling hand out for her to see)

I asked if a horrible, idiot mother who didn’t care about her daughter would bring her to school

She decided to walk

All of this happened because I asked her to clean up her dirty dishes from my room last night


People Change

change word cloud

Here’s my bright light for this morning…

I don’t talk about my parents very much. We are very, very different people. I don’t like how they raised me and they don’t like person that I have become. In fact, getting away from them is something that I didn’t realize I needed to do until I moved far, far away from them.

But, recently, my mother seems to be making a very nice effort of trying to be a nurturing mother.

I was afraid to tell her that I broke my ankle… It’s unfortunate, but I let people’s words get to me, and my parents were not (shall we say) very good self-esteem builders. They would say things that would make everything seem like it was my fault — like each time something went wrong, I was the cause of the wrongness. That can get to a kid after a while…

So, I waited to call and tell her that I had broken my ankle until the day before my surgery (5 days after I had broken it). Listening to her talk over the phone, I could tell that she was hurt because I waited so long to tell her. Truth be told, I didn’t want her to come out here and start “helping” me — she’s getting better at being a mom, but I am just not that ready yet. She was awesome on that call — she said everything I would have said to one of my daughters if it happened to one of them and I regretted (a little bit) waiting to tell her.

She’s been great through this (even though it has only been 19 days). She’s checking up on my progress regularly, but not annoyingly so. And she does seem genuinely concerned that I am hurt and that I am upset. In the “olden days” I would have been told to “buck it up, it’s not that bad. There are plenty of people out there that have it worse than you.” In fact, when I sprained my ankle in High School and the doctor told me not to walk on it for 2 weeks and prescribed me Codeine, my parents took away my pain medication and flushed it down the toilet because they “didn’t want me to become an addict.” Then, my mother told me that I needed to start walking on it the next day or it would never get better (amazingly, that is NOT the ankle that I just broke!).

Anyway, I wanted to share with you the wonderful tidbit that was waiting for me in my in-box this morning 🙂 because it is absolutely nothing like my mother used to be and reading her words made me feel better (for the first time I can remember).

Here is the email that I wrote to her last night telling her what happened at the Dr. yesterday and the day before:

Hi, Mom

The appointment went good and bad.

GOOD: I got a walking cast under the condition that I NOT WALK ON IT until they tell me it’s okay. I agreed — that was an easy one. The cast comes off so I can wash my leg and I can take a shower — this weekend we’re going to the thrift store to see if we can find a shower chair for me so we don’t have to worry about my slipping and breaking it again (or something else). This made me very excited until…

BAD: I had to get an ultrasound and I have a blood clot in my left leg. So, today I had to go to my GP and get a couple of prescriptions for blood thinners. I have to give myself shots in the belly twice a day for the next 5-7 days, until my Coumadin levels are high enough. Then I am supposed to be taking Coumadin once a day for a year until the Doctor tells me I’m okay. I get to go in and have my blood levels tested 2-3 times a week. Yay! I’m not old enough to be this old yet, am I?

We are so broke right now! The shots cost $100 WITH my insurance (they would have been $900 otherwise – OMG!), every doctor I have to go to is a new co-pay <sigh>.

AFLAC won’t let me process the claim until all of my “treatments” are done (including physical therapy) so my hands are tied until next March or April.

I’m not feeling any holiday spirit, Mom. I am crabby and angry and short-tempered and every time I start to feel a little better because I had a good day (which isn’t happening very often any more) something happens that makes me feel like it was stupid to waste my time feeling happy.

I’m sorry this was such a crabby letter. I am sad and frustrated and very discouraged. I don’t have very much happiness to share right now…
(Yay, I got a walking cast!)


And this was her loving and understanding response:

I bet it feels good to take the cast off, if only for a shower!  Good girl for following dr’s orders.  I know what a pain it is to be taking a blood thinner.  I’ve done the shots before, did they tell you there so it gets into your system faster. Also, you will bruise more & it might be harder to stop bleeding from a cut, i.e.shaving.  🙂   Plus, it’s a pain in the rump to have to go in to have your level tested.  I’ve been doing my own testing now for a couple of years.  I do it just like testing my glucose.  They’ll probably have you take an aspirin a day after all of this.  Which isn’t a bad idea just generally.  What made them suspect the clot?
I’m sure you will, but keep really good records of all your expenses for when you can file a claim.  Just try to dwell on the good things that happen even though it’s easy for

Floral Corner

everything else to get you down.  When you get on the other side of all this something will stand out, but I know that’s really hard to see now.


I love you and am praying for a full & complete mending of your ankle so you can be back skating this summer.  Hang in there & I’m attaching a huge hug!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I wish I could give it to you in person.
What loving and wonderful words to say to your daughter. They made me cry happy tears.
That letter made my day!

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I wish I were…

If things were different…

They just wouldn’t be the same…

My father used to say that all the time. I totally hated it!

Of course I wish things were different. Pretty much I wish that every day! Doesn’t everyone? But I don’t think that I can just wish away all the things that I don’t like. Some of the choices that I regret have turned me into the person that I love now! It would also mean that some of the things I enjoy and appreciate wouldn’t be the same – in fact, they might just cease to exist for me. And, although I won’t remember (because those things would not have happened), I might wish things were different then, too. Who can say what paradoxes I will create in my imagination trying to make things ideal?

“The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.” Patrick Star, SpongeBob Squarepants

If things were different, would I still love SpongeBob Squarepants? Would he still be my hero? Or, would I be voting for Mitt Romney in this year’s election instead? (I know they seem drastically different, but in my mind if I don’t like the one, I must be a “fan” of the other.)

If things were different, my two perfect daughters would be different. Maybe they would still be perfect, but they would be different. I would be different, too… How would I still know that they’re perfect? Heck, would I even have two daughters?

If things were different, my husband would take care of himself (or would he?). He would take responsibility for his actions and clean up after himself. He would act like an adult and treat me like his wife and not his mother. Or, maybe I would have gone through with that divorce 10 years ago. That sure would have changed things! I probably wouldn’t have moved to the lovely place where I live now, far from the repression of family and old memories. I would still be fat and unhappy. I would still be sealed inside my shell of self-protection – shielded from reality… And I would never have met all of these wonderful new people who care about me.

  • I wish I were richer. Then I would be able to take my daughters to Disneyland.
  • I wish I were taller. I don’t know why, I just think it would be more fun for me that way 😉
  • I wish I were sexier. Then I would have more self-confidence.
  • I wish my husband and I were divorced. Then I would have more freedom for myself, and I would be able to teach my daughters about healthy relationships. Really, I think I just wish that I had chosen someone else with whom to spend eternity.
  • I wish I never found out that my father drowns squirrels in a barrel in the garage every summer and then buries them all over the yard! In 2011 he killed 42. The last I heard this year, he was up to 39! What are they doing?! Keeping score?! Well, umm, you’re winning, you can stop already! FYI – squirrels mate for f***ing life, A**-holes!!!!!
  • I wish my mother had never told me that she wished I was more like my little brother and that she likes him better and always has.
  • I wish my parents were Democrats. Then they would just be completely different people than they are right now 😉 and that would be a good thing for everyone!

But some of those wishes are things that I cannot change (but if I keep wishing for it, maybe they will!) and will always be completely beyond my control.

“If wishes were horses, we’d all be eating steak” – Jayne Cobb, Firefly

I wish I had made different choices for my future a long, long time ago. But none of that matters now. I love the person that I have become, the things I have been forced to learn about myself and all of the world around me. If I had made different choices, I would be different too.

I don’t know what it would be like if all the things I wished for came true. All I know is that — things would definitely not be the same. I guess my father was right.

So, I guess the short version is: I wish I were exactly the same as I am right now!

(My attempt at this week’s DPChallenge: “I Wish I Were”)


Questions you want to know the anwsers to, but really you don’t.

I am going to need your help with these. This is going to be a long week for me and I would like to try some kind of diversion 😉 “Diverting” myself just doesn’t kick it 100%

  1. How many people have you had sex with besides me?

  2. Do you fantasize about other people? (either when we’re having sex or we’re not)

  3. Are you having an affair?

  4. Do Twinkies really last that long?

  5. Do I look like my Mother?

  6. When did you lose your virginity?

  7. What was that noise?

  8. Weren’t you listening?

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