Mom of the year

     Today was my day off. After my new normal of waking up to the laundry list of damage Donald Trump has done to the country, and his subsequent psychopathic Twitter-storm about God knows what after I went to sleep the night before, I decided to take a mental health day. I have been in an absolute panic since January 20, and there is only so much my body can take. So I decided to do my most favorite thing. Roller skate and podcasts.      Podcast search brought up a series about Oprah and her show. Good deal, I love her. But I clicked on the last episode, "Making Donahue", first. I remember Donahue from childhood, because dad watched it every day, so that meant I did too. At first I hated it. I remember it being a lot of yelling, people calling in to add their opinions, my dad talking back to the TV, and feeling sorry for a lot of these people because they seemed upset. It was an awful lot to take in for a kid.      As I got old...

     I received a series of angry emails and text messages from Gage's bio-dad's girlfriend one day (he stopped talking to me at all, even in email, once he got his new girlfriend, now fiance), about what a terrible mother I was for "letting Gage drop out of high school". They told my son they were disappointed in his choice. That they knew he could do better. That maybe living with them in California  is just what he needed to succeed in school. And so on. My reaction was deep, heartfelt hysterical laughter. Those two, bless their hearts, had zero experience raising a teenager, and were not the best examples of how essential and important a high school education is. Life was still beating the crap out of them and neither had ever held a job for long enough to get anywhere. They both love Gage very much, I do not doubt. But bio dad has not attempted to co-parent in a meaningful way ever, so any input from that direction was just noise, to be honest.  ...

Hi y'all!      I haven't been here since 2014, but I will only tell you why, briefly. First, we adopted Brandon, and he was far too fragile for my full-disclosure style writing. He needed space, and continuing the blog was impossible without including that part of our lives.      Then, I started to evolve in a direction that changed my worldview in a way which made some of my ideas and rants pretty embarrassing. I contemplated starting a whole new blog so I could spare myself from the shame, but that just wouldn't be honest, would it? ;) So, here we are. I have made friends, and lost friends. I have run 2 successful businesses, I started working as a cake decorator for a major company, I have two adult children and one who is in preschool. I have adulted at a fair level. I am also about to turn 40.      I am about halfway through life, if I am lucky. So.Much.Has.Happened. I'm scared and excited about the next 40 years co...

     Once upon a time I loved teenagers. I wanted to dedicate my life to helping them. I was going to be an adolescent psychologist one day, or at the very least, open a hangout for kids under 20 where bands could play, or they could game, or whatever, as long as they were safe and not bored in their shit little town and driven to drugs and who knows what else. Something. I would do SOMETHING.      Because you see, I was a teenager once, and I was sooo misunderstood. I just needed to be loved and taken seriously instead of scolded for everything and being made to feel stupid. I could have thrived! But instead I wasted away, gave up on success and lost hope for my dreams.      Just kidding, I was an asshole. Ungrateful, rude, apathetic, selfish, and lazy. Oh I had my moments of sweetness and charity. I hid my homeless friends in my parent's garage so they wouldn't have to sleep in the cemetery in the cold. I bought my poorer friends lunch a...

    Having stomach flu while caring for a small child is a special kind of hell. Bug got it first, then Gage and I got it at the same time a couple days later. Luckily I had some help, my In-Laws came and took Bug for a few hours so I could shit myself in peace. But I still managed to do 3 loads of laundry and get some basic groceries for the next couple days while the virus was still just starting to brew in my guts. I had to. I knew I'd be down for the count for 48 hrs and Husband turns into a dick when we're ill, so supplies and preparations had to happen before the river of vomit blew through the house. How is he a dick? I shall fill you in.      Husband hates it when we're sick, and the first time the flu went through the house he was actually MAD that we got it. Mad at us. Snapped at us for walking into the kitchen to get water, for sitting on the couch to watch TV, etc. For spreading our germs. He actually lectured me while I was miserable wit...

     Ahhh... the holidays are upon us. I love this shit. I love it when everyone has a day off at the same time so there's no excuse not to see each other, and we all eat the same gluttonous feast we've been eating for decades, we remember the fun we had in years past and we make new memories for the younger generation. No, really! There's no punch line, I really do love this shit!      This year I'm preparing to have the family over for a potluck Thanksgiving. It's a good thing too, because there hasn't been much work in the last month and the job we are on now might not pay until next month. We have no idea. The whole thing is kind of stressful because we have to fly Gage across the country to see his Dad for Xmas, and then we have to fly our new kid here with him on the way back. Things will work out, they always do. I'm surprisingly un-alarmed, actually. I must admit it does seem pointless to fly Gage back to California when he will probably...

     HELLO!!! Yes, I know I haven't written in over a month, and that really sucks, and I will get into the insanity of the reasons why soon enough. First though, I need to get a true story out of me, since one of my friends brought up asshole customers in retail and I was reminded of this little gem.      This particular story is one from my early strip club days, when I was a bartender. It was a fully nude club in California, which meant that there is no alcohol served there. Only soda, juice, coffee and O'Doul's, a non-alcoholic beer. That did not mean that dudes didn't come in drunk, because they usually did.      During this time I was a miserable person. My marriage was shit, my apartment was infested with roaches, I felt like an ugly, plain-Jane around all these glamorous looking hookers, and despite the fucking SILVER SUIT VEST and button down white collared shirt I was forced to wear, I was sexually harassed by old, ...