Long story….bear with me. (Drama)

Do you ever have those “a-ha” moments when you realize that the people closest to you are the ones who are causing the most problems in your life? I had one of those moments yesterday. For the past month, my life has been nothing but family issues, tears, stomach problems, insomnia, scandal, and all around “What the fuck?!” moments at a time when there should have been peace, love, uplifting and union. Let me back up so all of this will make more sense.

My mom’s side of the family has never been extremely close. In fact, until my grandmother’s passing, we had not all come together since 1995. That being said, I have always been close to one aunt and one of her daughters. My aunt has always been my compass for stability, compassion, love and loyalty. She’s always been honest, fair and blunt and we love her for it. Her daughter, on the other hand, has always been easily excitable and has, I guess you’d say, an addictive personality. She’s had her issues with illegal drugs, one more than others, but in the past several years, she’s done an excellent job at piecing her life back together. She’s become more like an older sister and best friend rather than a cousin who was already well into her twenties by the time I came along.

My aunt, who’s on up into her 60s, had two heart attacks in about a week. I was asked, by this cousin, to please come down and be there for emotional support. So, I did. I got to spend time with my aunt in the hospital, meet her grandson (by marriage) and spend time with some of her family who I’ve not seen in in about a year. I left after four days with the promise that I would be back two days later, stay for the rest of the week and be there for my family while my aunt was having surgery and recovering. It was a nice visit, or so I thought.

When I got back there two days later, I realized the drama ball had been rolling and rolling hard. Remember the grandson I mentioned earlier? Apparently, I was having sex with him. (Damn drama.) Also, I was informed that I had called several family members and claimed that my cousin had become a junkie again. (Really people?) All this time, my aunt is in the hospital, oblivious to the bullshit being flung amongst her dearest loved ones. My cousin, the grandson, and I  all came together to figure out who said what and who started what. It was determined that my aunt’s stepson was the one who was twisting words and telling all out lies. Great, problem solved. It’s all over and we can concentrate on the important matter at hand, my aunts impending surgery and recovery.

Nope…Not that easy. The stepson, not content with knowing he’s been busted but we will overlook it all this time for his step-mom’s sake, has the audacity to call her, the day before surgery, to fill her in on all the drama. The whole time, until he did this, it was understood that we would keep all of the arguing away from her. To me, his calling her was dirty and tactless. Now, my aunt knows the drama and is forming her own opinions twelve hours before she’s to go into a triple bypass surgery. She tells everyone that she will deal with us all on an individual basis and get to the bottom of the issues once she’s had surgery and a few days to recuperate. I left that godforsaken place two days after her surgery with the impression that she and I were on good terms. She had told me that she knew who started the controversy, that she loved me and that we were good.

For a few days after I left, I still talked with the grandson. We had pleasant conversations, laughed about how a friendship was developing out of controversy and made plans for him to come visit my husband and me for a few days. Then, the texts abruptly stopped. After a few days, I texted him and asked why he stopped talking. No response. Strange, but whatever. Then I noticed my cousin abruptly stopped talking to me also. So, yesterday, I called my aunt to see how she is recovering and to hear what she had to say to me. When I asked, I was curtly informed that she has nothing to say to me and that it would serve me well to never mention it again. Then, she hung up on me. I was left stunned and hurt. I won’t lie. I finally broke down and cried. Then, I got mad. Then, I cried some more.

When I went to bed last night, I decided I had had enough. I love my family but I refuse to be their scapegoat. I’m not saying I’m perfect or that I didn’t get caught up in some of the hype. However, I have decided that I have permanently removed myself from the present situation and all situations in the future.

I’ve been loyal to them my whole life. No matter what I had going on, when they would call and say “I need you” I would be there. Through everything they’ve gone through, I’ve been there. Sickness, death, spousal abuse, mother/daughter drama, mended bridges, etc. I’ve been there. I can only count three times they’ve collectively been there for me. My aunt came to my high school graduation (14 years ago). My cousin was a bridesmaid at my wedding (3 years ago) and was here for my college graduation (last May). That’s it. They weren’t here when I shattered my back and almost died. They weren’t here when I had my daughter. They weren’t here when I went through my divorce. They just weren’t here. Am I the only one who thinks this loyalty has been a little one sided? I don’t think so. I’ve been pushed to the point where I almost do not care anymore. I care a little because it does still hurt but I know that when the pain goes away so will the caring.

I will play the bad guy once more. I will not go running when they call, frantic, begging me to come. I will not go check on people for them. I will not be there the next time one of them is involved in a physical altercation. I won’t be the shoulder to cry on and the sounding board on which they unleash. I will not wipe tears, cheer up, or offer solicited advice. I will not make excuses for anyone’s mistakes anymore. I have reached my limit. Now, I’m standing up for me. I will not answer the phone, the texts, the social media messages any longer.

Is this wrong of me? Is it wrong of me to not want to be the one who keeps getting hurt, used, emotionally beaten down and used? I don’t think so. I think they will take it as me being wrong and heartless. That’s okay. Let them think what they will. I won’t be around to know about it.

Thank you for taking time to read my rant. I just needed to get that off of my chest for a minute.

Let me get this off of my chest for a minute.

Wow! It’s been a long while since I last posted, but life gets in the way. I pushed my journaling aside for far too long and now, I just have to start it back up so I can retain my sanity and not catch a case.

Yes, I am a happily married woman. No, my relationship is not conventional. Yes, I like it the way it is. No, it’s not your place to tell me where I’m going wrong in my marriage. My husband and I have a very secure marriage, but we aren’t so self centered that we believe we can fulfill each other 100% of the time. We live a poly lifestyle. We enjoy it. It works for us. This doesn’t diminish our love for each other. It doesn’t mean we don’t trust each other. Trust me, it takes more trust than most people realize to have this lifestyle. We have a full disclosure policy. He knows what I do and I know what he does.

That being said, my outside relationships do not typically have a thing to do with sex. Sometimes they do but, for the most part, they do not. I have had emotional ties to people intellectually, mentally, spiritually, and, yes, physically. On the rare occurrences that things are physical, that is no one’s business but mine, my husband, and the other person involved. It is not for anyone else to pass judgement, though a lot of people will and do. If I choose to sleep with a dozen men in one night, as long as my husband is okay with it, then shut up about it. It’s our dynamic, not yours. I will continue to have relationships until my husband and I decide it’s not for us any longer.

I love and I love hard. I don’t say “I love you” to just anyone, so when I say it, I fully mean it. I do not sleep with people I don’t love on some level. So, for everyone else who says “Oh, she just sleeps with whoever” you can all shut the hell up and mind you own damn business.

Ok, that is all. Rant over.

Lessons Miss Connie taught me

Yesterday was CC’s funeral and I didn’t break down until I was already back home in the shower. I will miss that wise ole bird’s company as she had missed mine when I quit working there. Our souls were connected, these 29 and 85 year old. It’s like we would tap into each other’s brain and one would call the other every time. I was never her student growing up but I was her student as an adult. I never took a minute of dance class, but she was my hero once she was in my care.

She taught me so much about life and how to see oneself in a light that would shine on ones crowning moments as well as dimmer moments. She taught me to take it all in stride and face it head on wearing ballet shoes, Chanel No. 5, and a big smile! She was a headstrong, warm, caring, open, yet private person. She taught me that just b/c a woman is all of the above qualities does not mean she is not a lady. “A true lady doesn’t back down. A true lady will get what she wants, by any means necessary, and come out smelling like Chanel.” (Everything was about Chanel No. 5)

She taught me to never deny my mistakes or shortcomings. She made numerous mistakes, as we all do, but I don’t think she was ever scandalized by those mistakes. She kept her head held high, admitted them, and moved on with dignity and grace. She would say to admit and then move past it. She said to truly move past things and to not bring them up again unless you’re teaching someone or explaining how the lesson changed you for the better.

She taught me that sometimes marriage is a mistake. She was married twice when she was younger. She would talk about how both of her ex husbands were wonderful men, and that she loved them both dearly, but that she was just not marriage material. She was too independent to play the role of wife for too long. All she ever wanted in life was to dance and to teach others to dance. She danced all over the country as well as overseas and marriage wouldn’t allow that as “no self respecting man should have to follow his wife all over watching her fulfill her dreams while squashing his”. I understand and respect that fact. She took care of her mother, aunt, and her career. She gave so much to so many people that a husband was more of a bother or nuisance than a partner. CC told me she was on good terms with both of her ex husbands when they divorced and remained close friends with them until they each passed away. To me, that’s real love. Having someone who is your best friend, with whom you can share your intermost feelings, wants, wishes, and desires, whether you can make a marriage work with them or not, is true love. This is one of the most valuable lessons Miss Connie taught me.

I’m so thankful I got to see her one more time and that she saw me truly happy. I know it bothered her when I was hurt or concerned about my future, though she never really let it show. She would always tell me “Chin up girlie. You’re going to do fine. You and that baby will be fine.” Some days I believed her, others not so much. I knew she was correct though b/c CC never made life blunders. (I smile as I’m typing this because I know no written word will every do CC justice.) Good ole CC. I will love you more than I could ever describe and miss you more than you know. Farewell CC. May you forever be dancing amonst the stars, tapping and twirling your way through eternity.

Love always, Your Babyheart!

punishment for bettering oneself?

I’m going back to college. The semester starts on Wednesday. I’m right at 30 and I’ll be going back to school. WTF am I thinking? I dislike school and have since the 4th grade. I will do it this time. I have a family to help support so I must do this and do it well….even though it involves 3 math classes…intermediate algebra, college algebra, and math for teachers. I do not do math. I will do it though, and completely conquer!

I work part time as well. At least, I think I do. I am a CNA in a nursing home. I love my job but I don’t feel as though it’s what drives me. Growing up, I dreamed of becoming a nurse and taking care of sick patients. I wanted to work at St. Jude before I decided that I can’t deal with sick and dying children. It hurts my heart too much.  I love taking care of the elderly, but there is just too much red tape for me to be comfortable pursuing a nursing degree.  Basically, knowing someone’s life will depend on whether I’m having a good day or not, if I slept well the night before, etc. is not something I want resting on my shoulders. No, thank you!

My boss was infuriated when I told her I’m going back to school. We’re talking make me feel like crap for “abandoning your God given “talents” in the health care field to pursue a lesser career that brings no satisfaction, respect, or appreciation and you’re better than that! You know you’re supposed to go into nursing school and become a nurse!”, type of infuriated! I told her this breaking “Hey I’m going back to school this fall” news in mid July. That gave her PLENTY of time to make out the schedule for August and adjust accordingly. I told her that I could work the normal hours I have been until August 15. For the rest of the month, I needed to be on only a prn basis. (Prn meaning “as needed”) Once I got my class schedule I’d be able to tell her which days I could work for the rest of the semester. She said this would be fine. Two days later I get asked what I’m going to school for as she assumed I was going into the LPN or RN programs. When I told her it was for high school education, she flipped the script big time. The August schedule had me down for 2, I repeat, 2 days!!! WTF?! I ask and get told “Oh, I must have misunderstood you” as I’m given the most sarcastic smirk I’ve ever received. UGH BITCH!!! I did go in and give her my class schedule. We agreed on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday (because, as I was told, “We just don’t have employment for someone who cannot work any on a weekend) and prn the other days.

We will see if she “misunderstands” our agreement when the September schedules come out. If she does, I can always go to the unemployment office and get part time unemployment. I don’t want to have to do that though. I don’t like handouts and, hopefully, never will. I don’t know about other states but in Arkansas it seems as if our state government rewards people who just sit on their asses and do nothing yet punishes those who want to work and become successful. If you’re working part time and going back to school, you’re pretty much guaranteed to not get help in any form unless you go to the offices and act stupid on them. It’s just annoying.

I’ve just realized my coffee mug is empty, so I must get off of here and start the day. Have fun all. Remember to keep looking up!

Grocery shopping and Grandma

I hate grocery shopping, plain and simple. Yesterday, though, I was shopping with my husband and daughter and I run into my grandmother. No biggie, right? WRONG!! She is a nurse and a health fanatic. Not saying all nurses are health nuts b/c they’re not, but my g’ma is definitely one of the few. She felt the need to scrutinize everything I bought. I was petrified to see her. She stared into my cart of smoked sausage, animal crackers, mac & cheese, chicken patties, and nuggets with disdain. I instantly felt the need to explain why these types of items were in my cart. “LB (my daughter) loves animal crackers. Sausage is 10 for $10, mac and cheese is a quick side dish that all kids love, and the processed chicken products are quick and easy for hubby to make when I’m at work”. She nodded her beautiful Southern belle, black and silver-haired head and said “Bless your heart. I know times are hard. I love you baby.” UGH!!! G’ma Stop doing that to me! Anyone who lives in the south knows that’s equivalent to saying “You pitiful poor person, I raised you better. It’s no wonder you’re fat buying all that junk but I love you anyway.” We check out and go straight to the super center. Grandma does too.

I’m feeling like a terrible blob as I put my child in the cart at the super center, but I press on, getting what other groceries are needed. G’ma and my paths cross again at the yogurt isle. I put the package of Go-gurt in the cart for LB as G’ma comes around the corner. Damn, here we go again! “I prefer plain yogurt baby.” “Well, G’ma, I don’t like plain yogurt. I like flavored. I’m doing better though. Look, Greek yogurt. It’s healthy, right?” “Not really, with all the extra calories and sugars, but it’s better than the other stuff.” *Self esteem dropped another 10 pts.* “That canned chili isn’t healthy at all baby. Neither is that fruit juice-lots of sugar in those”. Meanwhile, hubby is seemingly oblivious to the fact a conversation is even taking place. “Honey, fresh produce is a lot healthier than canned”. *Be thankful I’m buying veggies Lady!* “Velveeta is cheese PRODUCT, honey, not real cheese. It’s loaded with cholesterol. *But it’s so good and comforting melted with a can of Rotel and this bag of tortilla chips woman!*

I’ve been taught to respect this dear old woman, but I’ve had my feel. I desperately scan her cart to see what unhealthy goodies I can use against her. HA! NOTHING! Plain greek yogurt (healthy), bag of carrots, apples, watermelon, oranges, fresh asparagus bundles, broccoli, cauliflower, evoo, two packages of boneless, skinless chicken breasts…DAMN! This woman is a walking, talking, model of purity food! Ah, what’s that, a jar of peanuts!!!! “Well, g’ma, peanuts are high in fat!” “Honey, that’s true, but the peanut oils are good for your heart. I only eat 10 a day.”, she says smiling sweetly. I’ve never wanted to punch an old person in the throat so hard in my life!!!

By this time, hubby has become aware that there is a nutrition lesson here and interjects. “Well, B, we have to get LB home and get her some dinner cooked. Nice seeing you. Take care”. “Bye Grandma. I love you” “I love y’all too, honey. Come see an old lady sometime. Oh, and honey…” “Yes, G’ma?” “Try to eat healthier…That little one doesn’t need you having a stroke, heart attack, or getting cancer or diabetes.” “Ok, grandma. I’m working on that. Besides, if you come look in my fridge, you’ll see bottled water, leeks, cauliflower, celery, parsnips, pineapple, real butter (because apparently margarine is the devil’s soul food), and 2% milk (Milk comes from COWS! NOT PLANTS!!!).” “I believe you sweetheart”, says grandma, smiling her too sweet for words, yet silently condescending smile that lets me know she thinks I just said a big fat lie to appease her. “I love you and will see you soon…Promise.” I walked away wanting to cry my eyes out, eat a gallon of coffee bean ice cream and watch Steel Magnolias.

My husband, knowing G’ma just politely and, with all the love in the world, made me feel like the fattest, most unhealthiest, terrible mommy in all civilization, directed me to the nail polish stands. I immediately forget previous conversations and am enthralled in the word of pretty nail colors! Seeing 6 different polish colors, including a purple magnetic polish, in my cart among all my “terribly unhealthy” junk, I am happy as a lark once again as we all head to the check out counter.

I see Grandma at the front of a line, giving an overweight cashier a lecture about how fresh produce, chicken, and soy milk will change her life for the better and help her lose all that weight. I just smiled and shook my head as I went to another line.

I love my Grandma and wouldn’t change her for the world. She’s doing what she thinks she should to make this world a healthier place to live. She’s always been health obsessed. That’s awesome of her. It’s why she is 80 and people swear she’s 60. They swear she’s my mom. It’s cool. I get it. I know I should eat better, but dammit, junk food is cheap and times are tough. I’d love to eat salad, fresh produce and chicken all day but it’s too damn expensive and I don’t have the $!!!! Granted, I’d never go to the left on my G’ma and tell her all this in those exact terms, but I’d love to. Wait. No I wouldn’t, b/c it would make her cry and that is one of the very few things that I just cannot handle. I can’t stand to see a soldier, my G’ma, my kids, or my daddy cry. It kills me. I do my best to make sure I’m never the one making that happen.

But I digress. Point is, as long as it costs more to make a good salad than it does to make a hamburger or hamburger helper, the majority of the people are going to be overweight. I am a part of that majority. ~B

Wave bye-bye to being crafty

I’m not crafty. I don’t like this fact. I used to be. I would like to be again but it’s just not happening. I used to be very crafty and resourceful. I got it from my mom. I swear, she can take anything and turn it into a masterpiece. It’s quite annoying for me. I’m hoping my daughter possesses this trait b/c it will definitely come in hand for her as she ages.

I used to be like mom though. I could make a cute skirt out of neck ties I got from a garage sale. Give me empty shoe boxes and I’d have mini shadow box before lunch. I could see, and execute perfectly, the trash to treasures. Now, I can see the possibilities, but the execution just ain’t comin!

It all started when I had a car wreck in late 2004 which resulted a cracked skull brain swelling and bleeding, and many other damaged organs, broken bones, etc. After what was considered a total rehabilitation, I learned I am no longer a crafty person. I cannot make cutsie little skirts, hair bows, wall ornaments, decorations, ect. anymore. I didn’t really notice I had lost my abilities until recently when I decided to make a craft box for my 3 1/2 year old. Mommy couldn’t even remember how to use a loom…That’s a problem for me!!!

I also have learned that my cooking on the fly, which was awesome, has eluded me as well. I have to actually sit down and concentrate on what I want to make. I am currently writing a list of substitutions that I will have to place on the inside of a cabinet b/c I just can’t remember them anymore. Things that used to come naturally to me just…*poof* gone! I don’t remember what half of the ingredients are in most things I used to cook on a regular basis. This generally leads to my extreme frustration resulting in meals that originated from a box with a glove on the outside. Now that I’m somewhat domesticated with this whole marriage, cooking is something I’m doing more and more of. With my first marriage, we ate out all the time. “Why dirty up a perfectly good kitchen when you can just go to the restaurant and not have to clean?”,  was our motto. I don’t have the money to be doing that now.

I will get better at this though. I don’t want to have lost everything I used to be good at. I am cooking more, even if it is from cookbooks and recipe cards. I am on pinterest all the time printing out how-to instructions for different things. So, maybe, I will be crafty again….It will happen, dammit!!

 

Healthy food is too expensive!

So, I realized today (well, it really hit me today) that I haven’t bought scrubs since 2009. My scrub bottoms are starting to get a little thread bare in the crotch and that’s not really what the bosses like to see…or maybe they do, I dunno. Anyway, point is, I probably need to start looking into buying new ones or I could patch the ones I have now which would be thrifty of me. I just really don’t want to go through the process of trying on clothes right now. It’s been a long time hatred of mine.I despise trying on clothes b/c stupid brands size things differently and it build false hope that you’re not actually as big as you’ve been feeling.

That said, I looked in the mirror this morning with my bra and underroos on and was like “who the hell is this fat-ass in my mirror?!” Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always known I was big, but this big is ridiculous and just plain laziness. The fact that I’m 5’5″ and am weighing in at approx. 265 is just not acceptable–I don’t care what the hubby says about “You’re beautiful just the way you are”. Talk like that is why at 15 I thought it was perfectly normal and healthy to eat 3 eggs with chili and cheese on top of them for breakfast.

But how does one eat healthy when they are flat broke? I know I’m not the only one who has noticed how expensive fresh produce is nowadays. I love my fruit and veggies but I can’t afford their price-tag. When did apricots become over $4/lb? Ridiculous! I did buy some baby carrots, cauliflower, and celery today though. Little B (my daughter) and I will eat those in no time. I’m fortunate that my kid prefers health food to junk. Don’t get me wrong, she loves her Chef Boyardee but she loves vegetables too. (How many other 3 year olds do you know who love asparagus and beets?)  I like Chef’s $.98/can price tag. So, she eats that for lunch. She’s not overweight so I must be doing something right in her nutrition so far.

We don’t eat a lot of red meat anymore. It’s mainly poultry now. Mainly b/c we can get a pound of ground turkey for $1.50 but also b/c it’s better for us than beef or chuck. We’ve cut out white bread and are now on 100% whole wheat (I still can’t stand it, but I’m learning to deal) as well as using 100% whole wheat tortillas(eww God give me strength!) rather than white flour tortillas. We tried whole wheat pasta but we all agreed that we can’t do that. We’ll just limit our pasta intake b/c whole wheat pasta is just something I refuse to do again! BLECH!

With my about to stop working and going back to school, I just don’t see how eating fresh (even completely in season) produce daily is feasible. Is canned produce really that bad for you? What’s the harm in buying the no salt added cans of green beans, peas, corn, etc? Maybe if hamburger’s were $4.99 and salad was $.99 people would be healthier. I love salad…just can’t afford it.

So, I’ll figure out a way to shed these lbs. without going bankrupt in the process…wish me luck!!

Things to do before 30…ha!

I turned 29 towards the end of April and since then I’ve thought on and off about the things I told myself I would do before turing the big 3-0. There are some things I’ve done, although the outcome was far from what I had expected at the time, but, for the most part, I’ve not done much.

Here’s the list.

Graduate college…not done.

Get married…done…twice

Move to Texas and live on a spacious, secluded ranch….done (and moved back home.)

Stop smoking…done…well, sort of.

Own my own home….not done

Obtain or be working on my Ph.D in Psychology…not done…will never do…too many skeletons there

Be out of debt…not even close

Have a child…done

Get down to 125 lbs.—hahahaha Yeah, not even remotely close, even with a fun house mirror

Donate to a charity….Do this regularly

Travel overseas-not done

Have at least $10,000 in savings-don’t even have a savings account

So, yeah, I’ve not done much. That’s ok though. I just have to work on a new list to obtain before 40. Now, that I’ve goofed off through much of my 20s, I can make more realistic goals for the future.

I am, for the most part, happy with my life. Sure, I’d love to have more $$. We all would. I do have a roof over my head, even though it’s a rented roof. I have food in my cabinets. I have clothes on my back. My car is currently running well. My husband and child seem to be happy and content with me. I’m going back to school next month. I have a job that is fulfilling and rewarding. My family is trucking along just fine. I do have loads to be thankful for even though I’m not where I thought I would be.

So, I’m not the thin, Texas ranch owning, debt free, well traveled therapist I thought I would be 11 years ago. Who cares? I am ME. I have made mistakes, learned from them, and lived to tell about them. I call that a success.

Adventures in Mommy land-We really do pay for our raisings, I guess.

To all the mothers out there who I’ve judged for not being able to handle their kids, I’M SORRY!!! I used to criticize (in my mind, of course.) mothers who would say “I just can’t handle these kids!” and things of the like. I would think that if you can’t handle a child then why have them and why continue to have children. After all, my sister had 3 kids and I handle them quite well, if I do say so myself. We are buddies. If I can handle someone else’s kids surely I could handle my own. “What’s so hard about handling a 3 year old?”, I thought. After all you pop in a movie, throw some toys, crayons and coloring books on the floor, and let them have at it while you do your thing, right?

WRONG! There is so much more to it. Apparently, kids that don’t belong to you will always listen better than those that do. My daughter is 3 1/2 and it’s like I’m invisible to her. I can tell her to stop doing something and it falls on deaf ears. My sister can tell her and she hops to attention.

Everyday that I’m home, it seems as though my daughter and I have it out. It’s a struggle to get her to pick up her toys, to not strow things all over the house, and to pick up her little games she gets out. Oh, and forget this whole “Get one thing out at a time. When you’re done with this game or this thing, put it back up before getting out something else”. That just doesn’t work on my kid! She has inherited my family’s stubbornness which is passed down from my daddy’s father’s side. She will stand firm on her own no matter the consequence. Later on, as an adult, that will be a shining quality depending on how she uses it, but now, as a 3 year old, it’s just defiance to the 10th power!

She does get disciplined, mind you. We’ve run the gammut from telling her “No” and explaining why she should or shouldn’t do somethin, having time-out, taking away toys (including but not limited to, stuffed animals, dress up clothes, things on her walls, her TV cartoons), spanking, and her “square”. Of all these punishments, her square worked the best. Her square is just that-a taped off square in the middle of her floor just big enough for her to stand in. She must stand there, hands down, and stare at a small square on her wall which is also marked with blue tape, for an allotted time. The time varies depending on the severity of the offense, though it’s rare that she has to stand there for longer than 10 minutes. One time though, my husband got busy doing something else and forgot that he had put her in said square until he walked past her bedroom several several minutes later! She isn’t allowed to talk, play, or get out of the square except for going to the restroom. Trust me, it’s not as bad as it sounds. It is basically just another form of time out and standing in the corner except instead of a corner, it’s the middle of the room. The square worked for about 6 months and now is losing it’s effectiveness.

So now, I’m trying to figure out something new that will work for her. Wish me luck! Until next time…B

Hello world!

Well, I suppose I should really start out with a simple “hello all”, so Hello All who happen upon my little page. I know my writing  isn’t all that good but at least I can spell most words correctly which places me above 75% of the dimwits who have blogs nowadays and I will improve as time goes on.

I start this blog not quite knowing what, if anything inparticular, my expectations are for this blog aside from the normal ramblings of day to day life. There are so many things I’m sure I will write about during the course of this blog such as my adventures in “mommyhood”, being a newlywed, my job as a CNA and the things I see/have learned during this job, going back to college after being gone for so long, the struggles of a single income family and how we make due, dead-beat parents, and maybe some politics and/or religion.

As most bloggers, I do hope people like what I have to say and will keep reading as time goes on. If opinions differ, and you want to comment to explain why, please do so in a respectable manner. I cannot stand bashing. I am always open to new opinions and insite. This is my little theraputic haven even if no one ever reads this other than myself. It will be my own little outlet from all the bs that I, and everyone else, has to encounter on a regular basis.

Well, I suppose that is all for right now. I will write back as often as I need to vent or need to relax. Take care…until we meet again, B