Tag Archive | exes

The Girl Who Never Cleaned

It seems my posts are getting further and further apart. I guess I need to start making writing a priority again, but with so much going on, it’s honestly hard to find time to breathe these days.

The eldest is still not walking right. She’s in a wheelchair anytime she’s not at home. Her strength is slowly coming back. I wish I could say the same for mine. Bi-weekly physical therapy, weekly neurologist appointments, and various other appointments fill my time now. When I’m not running, I’m trying to keep up with school, my business, and the house. Needless to say, the house is suffering. There’s a story behind why this last one bothers me so. If you sit a spell, I’ll share the tale with you.


That was mighty old-fashioned of me, so here’s an old fashioned photo to go with it.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who got married at a young age. This girl had many responsibilities growing up and felt that she had been treated unfairly. This caused her to shirk her adult responsibilities and her house became a huge mess. Her spouse wasn’t much help, often adding more to the mess than he ever helped with, and then blaming her for the state of the home. After all, she was home with two kids under 4 (one of whom was a newborn) all day. Surely she had tons of time and motivation to get things done while he was gone.


This bodes well for getting housework done, let me tell you.

Over the next year, her house displayed varying levels of cleanliness, but mostly, it looked like an episode of Hoarders gone wrong. Okay, maybe not quite that  bad, but it was sure close. After child number three came along, she fell into a deep depression. As you can imagine, the emotional state was reflected in the appearance in her home. Some days she could barely find the motivation to brush her hair, let alone do the dishes.


Something tells me this woman was having one of those days. That, or she couldn’t locate a mirror.

Through the years, more and more messes were made and it seemed to the girl that the more she cleaned, the messier it got. No matter how much she plead with those who shared her home, she could not get help doing even the simplest of chores. The girl gave up. Her house was forever a pigsty after that.


I can safely say my house never got this bad. Thank goodness!

The End

Only it wasn’t. That douche of a spouse left. At first, the house wasn’t any cleaner because the girl felt like a failure. She had made promises and now they had been broken. Not by her, but by him. She felt she had failed her kids and her whole family. She felt she failed herself.

Little by little, her eyes opened. She realized that she hadn’t been in a healthy place for a long time and part of that was because of him. Now that he was gone, she could find herself again, because she didn’t even know who she was anymore. She became happier and as she did, her house got cleaner and cleaner. She realized that having a clean house made her feel better too.


I wish my house looked like this. It’s simply not this pretty though.

Fast forward to now. The girl is happy-ish. Things are tough, sure, but they seem to be getting better. She has so much to do, that the house is beginning to slip again. The girl thinks back to the way it used to be. The way her house used to look. She looks around, unhappy with where things are. She knows it’s not bad yet, but worries that it could get there. She gets so much more help now, so that’s huge, but she still feels like she should be doing more to help. She feels this way, but instead of cleaning, she writes, because right now, it’s all she knows how to do to keep sane.


Mommies are for Pwning Noobs

I’ve never been big into the Call of Duty series. Maybe it’s because they’re violent. Maybe it’s because they’re so popular. Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that my ex used to let my children play them, including our youngest who was all of 4 years old at the time.  When your kids start bragging about how many head shots they got or they start looking at tall buildings as possible sniper spots, it tends to turn a mom off from a product. Hell any responsible parent for that matter. Regardless of the reason, the games have been banned in our house for years.
Until recently, that is. Santa decided that the teenager was responsible enough to get a game that had been requested more times than I care to count.

Then came the question I hadn’t considered. “Will you play with me mom?” I protested at first, still stuck on my extreme dislike of the game. Then I realized it might be a good way to connect with her. We have a pretty amazing relationship as is, but I’m always looking for ways to keep the bonds between the kids and I strong. So I agreed to play.

The first couple times, she flattened me in the blink of an eye. Being that she’s played the game before and I’m a “total noob”, I wasn’t surprised. Then our scores got closer and closer together. I was pretty excited that I was getting better. In the last round we played, I actually beat her! She then decided it was time for me to play online. Boy, was that a pain in the ass. My new-found video game ego was flattened in about 5 seconds.

Even though I left the game with my tail between my legs, I still had a great time with my kid. I let her teach me something new. We had fun trash talking each other. Most of all, we spent quality time together and had a chance to connect one on one. Plus, I had a chance to blow off some steam. Sometimes, playing a game you can’t stand with your kid is totally worth it.

Bitches be Crazy

Whoa. I was beginning to forget what my laptop looked like. I haven’t written in days, partly because of the holiday and partly because I’ve been busy reading a new book. Reading just makes me want to write my book even more. Then again, it also makes me feel like my writing is shit and I should throw in the towel. It’s too much conflict for my tiny brain to handle, so I’m ignoring both of my inner demons and just enjoying the book.

I had a major bipolar meltdown yesterday, getting pissed at the boyfriend for next to nothing. I feel like a total ass and I’m so lucky he forgives me and understands. After I got angry, I had a seizure. He took care of me even though I was an ass to him. I was upset with him because I wasn’t communicating my needs to him and he couldn’t read my mind. How dare he not be able to know my innermost thoughts without me vocalizing them. Well, I guess I really am a chick. I usually don’t fall into those types of patterns, but I suppose it was my day to be a total girl in the most annoying of ways. I guess..


I’m going to be seeing my doctor soon. He doesn’t know the auditory hallucinations are back. I’m not sure if I want him to put me on something more or not. I usually don’t like being on medication and aim to be on the least amount possible, but with the way things have been, I’m wondering if it might not be time to shake things up a bit.

I’ve been debating on getting a job. As it’s been months since I received child support from my ex, it might be at a point where I need to. I’m just concerned with how I’ll be able to handle working on top of my other responsibilities. Dropping out of school is NOT an option and selling the kids on the black market isn’t either, so…

I guess I’d better get to bed now. Lack of sleep is one of the leading causes of bitchiness, you know.

Put Your Tray Tables Up and…

I have never been on an airplane. Ever. In my 29 years on this earth, my feet have remained on terra firma. With the exception of riding my beloved roller coasters-and not the emotional type, thank you-I have sadly remained earth bound. Le sigh…

I have, however, watched enough movies to be familiar with the little monologue that the stewardess has to give before take off. Fasten your seat belts, yadda yadda, emergency exits are located, blah blah blah, oxygen masks will fall from the sky, so on and so forth. (Maybe I should get a job as a stewardess. I did a damn fine job with that if I do say so myself)

Where I stopped in the speech is pivotal to today’s ramblings. The oxygen masks. More importantly how they are to be used. When they address this on a plane, there is always a disclaimer. Put your own mask on before you help someone who is with you and unable to. Namely children. I realized only a year or two ago that this can apply to more than just airplanes and oxygen masks.

Now, I’m about to get deep and philosophical, so if that’s not your thing, the emergency exits are located here, here, and here. Have a nice day and thank you for flying BipolarAir.

For those of you who remain, lets continue. As I was saying.. there’s a reason why this is part of their speech. If you don’t put the mask on yourself first, you’re no good to the people who depend on you. This applies to my life in another way.

The best way for me to recharge my battery is to have some time away from my kids. I struggled with that idea for a long time. What kind of mother wants to have time away from her beautiful, precious, wonderful children? (That’s only half sarcasm. They are all of those things.. most of the time) This notion was enforced by my ex husband every time I would talk to him about a night or weekend away. The kids need us. We should do something with them instead. Blah blah blah. Only, his idea of doing something with the kids was doing nothing with them. I felt guilty that I needed time away and our twice a year dinner and a movie bit got old really fast.

For a very long time, I remained in that mindset. Anything I desired was trumped by the kids needs and eventually his needs. I wound up at the bottom, both metaphorically and emotionally. I was miserable and everyone knew it. Well, everyone in my house anyways. They knew I was miserable because I was making them feel the same.

Then… he left. *whoosah* Things fell apart. A lot. Then they got better. I was getting time away when they were with him. At first, I would do nothing more than cry when they were gone. My best friend realized how down I was and started dragging me out with her. She saved me from one of my darkest times. This simple push set into motion a series of changes in me.

I had the chance to be me a little more. I found myself again. I decided to go for my goals and dreams that I had put off for so long. I became me instead of just being mom and  housewife. It’s been wonderful.

I am a better mom now in many respects. I’m better in many areas, actually. This weekend, my kiddos are gone. The boyfriend and I are enjoying some one on one time. It’s wonderful. As much as I miss my munchkins, I know that when they come back, I’ll be a better momma to them because of the time apart.