Six or Seven on Saturday or Sunday

Wow.  That's my reaction to being a Working Mom.

I've said it before, and I'm sure with my early onset dementia that seems to be setting in I'll say it again:  I don't know how women do this.  Rising at the ass-crack of dawn every day, trying to not fall asleep before dinner...and getting everything on this earth done in between.  Not to mention trying to watch at least one full episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer every other day or so.

This has been a trying week..not because of work, but because I'm once again dealing with the nefarious evil-doings of my ex-husband.  Long story short?  I'm losing my health insurance because of him.  The details of this latest shitstorm are tedious and mind-numbing enough for me, I can't imagine the snoring I'd cause if I attempted to get it into a coherent chain of words for you guys.  Bottom line is, he is once again going back on his word (gasp!) and once again putting his own self-loving interests before what is best for his kids.  My heart, which I thought had been broken into too many pieces to possibly break any more, is indeed breaking again.  Oh, don't worry, no need to get the violins warmed up with some weepy tunes...I'll be ok.  The kids will be ok.  We've learned how to get up and over these little bumps in the road but dammit...I wish we'd get a smooth ride one of these days.

Do nice guys (and girls) always have to finish last? 

Anyhoo. No more pity partying. I've been through enough crap with my ex husband to know that it's going to take more than this to kill me.  Sure, it sucks that Charlie's long-overdue wisdom teeth extraction will have to be put on hold now.  It's a crying shame that Molly is going to have to stop seeing this absolutely kick ass therapist we found for her, to help her deal with her crippling anxiety.  It's a huge bummer that my scheduled mammogram is going to have to be unscheduled.  All of that is less than ideal, but it won't kill me.  It won't kill my kids. (actually, the mammogram one could be iffy, but I don't want to think about that)

What it will do, however, is strengthen my resolve to make sure that the man to whom I was once betrothed, the dude who fathered my children...this chap who used to rock my world and was once King of the World as far as four little babies were concerned...I'm going to make sure that he's around when the kids and I make like the Jeffersons and start movin' on up.  I'm going to make sure he sees exactly how awesome and amazing we are, and I'm going to thank him for making us that way.  Seriously..I'm going to thank that a-hole.  Thank him hard.

Ok, and now, since I've been slacking on my blog duties, here are some random thoughts, observations and yes, a couple brain farts that I've been holding in all week.

1.  If they ever create the show "Hoarders:  Purse Edition", I know for a fact I'll be on it.  Bless the young girl at PetSmart this morning who didn't say anything as I stood there in front of her, elbow-deep in unwrapped tampons, an ocean of receipts, hockey medals, chapsticks and the wadded up red wax remains of countless Babybel light cheese rounds (my lunch as I drive from school to school) looking for my Pet Perks card.  But sweetie, don't you think you could have told me right away that all you needed was my phone number? 

2.  Have you checked out the blog Dog Shaming?  It's a guffaw-worthy place full of dogs wearing their shame notes.  I submitted this picture:

That's Walter in his favorite spot to sleep:  On top of my laptop and phone-charger cords.  Notice the one cord wrapped artfully around his too-long dewclaw?  He did that.  And yes, that claw needs to be trimmed.  I know.  He will lay like that for a while, and then when he decides to get up the plugs slide from the outlet.  And if we're really lucky, he will pass noxious gas too.

3.  I was having an absolutely crap-tastic night with the kids a few days ago.  Like, the kind of night where I made one of my "OMG I wish I had another parent here" facebook posts.  So I gave myself a time out and checked in on my blog and found what I think is the funniest comment ever.  It's on the last post I wrote, where I mentioned boinking my latest beau even though we are on opposite sides of the political spectrum.  It was from a chick named Gigi, and all she wrote was:

"I could never f a republican. More power to you."

Gigi, thank you for that much needed laugh. Everyone else, click on her name up there to take a peek at her photography skills..they're mad crazy.  Don't think I won't hunt her down when I finally find Mr. That'll Do.   And by the way, when I woke up the next morning I loved my kids again so all was right in our worlds. 

4.  My birthday was this past Wednesday, the 26th.  I celebrated by working and then going to church (confirmation has started up again, please don't ask me to go on about how I started crying when I saw my girls on our first night back...I love them and can't believe this is our last year together).  And then falling asleep when I got home.  Can I just say, how about the facebook on birthdays??  Felt the love, people.  That was nice.  But then my friend Gillian wrote something on my wall that absolutely touched my heart.  Gillian is a lawyer turned stay at home mom, and is one of my most ardent "fans", giving me more support than a WonderBra.  I never knew she had such a way with words.  Here's what she wrote, and I'll let you take a big fat guess whether or not it made my weepy ass cry:

Who can start a gabfest at eleven pm? Who wears honesty and humor like a coat of armor?Who has the capacity to remember the names of and really care for 1000 (this number is not exaggerated) children at once? Who makes her friends feel great even when she does not? Jenny! Happy Birthday to a dear friend and special woman.

Who wears honesty and humor like a coat of armor?  Damn girl.  That might have to be my new lower-back tattoo.  I have some pretty great friends.  

5.  I think I mentioned that Charlie sent Big Daddy a nice long text, telling him how he felt.  Well, in that text, Charlie mentioned how he felt about the fact that his mom has to work her butt off, and how sometimes making ends meet is hard.  He mentioned that I had to go to the food shelf last winter, which of course I cringed about but you know what?  I'll own it.  Wasn't my proudest moment but I did what I had to do to feed my kids.  And I hate to be Captain Obvious but if a certain someone had been paying child support, supporting the children wouldn't have been so freaking hard.  Doy.  Anyways, both Henry and William told me that Big Daddy has taken them aside at some point over the past week and told them "you can live here at my house, if you don't have enough to eat at your mom's" or something like that.  Nice, huh?  

But you know what's even nicer?  What both boys said when they told me.  William said, "Like I want to live in a basement and play video games for the rest of my life." And Henry said, "Mom, I'd rather be homeless with you than live with him."  We won't address the fact that this special invitation wasn't extended to Charlie and Molly.   Oops, looks like I just did.  

I think a lot about what he's put me and the kids through.  I ponder karma and come-uppance and justice.  Some days I wonder if he'll ever feel any sort of pain or even just get some general bruising on his soul.  And then my kids say things like that, and I know...he already has.

6.  I can't speak for all chubby ladies, but when I'm at a less-than ideal weight, I turn into a vampire.  I avoid mirrors and cameras like the plague.  But now, seeing as I'm inching towards the 30 lbs. GONE mark, I thought I'd make eye contact with that lovely lady in the mirror after my shower this morning.  You know what?  It wasn't so bad.  Well, except for that brief moment, before the steam fully dissipated, when I wondered to myself, "Hey, who let Jimi Hendrix in here, and why is he kneeling in front of me?".  But that's just what happens when you neglect to weed the ladygarden for oh, like 2 years.  I think it's time for me to make an appointment at the Beauty Lab for some intense wax time.  I apologize in advance.  Aside from that, though, the lady in the mirror?  She's looking ok.  Better than I thought.  More freckles than I remembered, but not too shabby.  

I will leave you with this funny picture, and an apology for the meal you just lost when the visual from my mirror encounter popped into your brain.  Have a great Sunday, my friends.