Put the Tab on This Guy

You don’t get to have a bad day and call me with your typical bullshit to try to make me feel like my day to day isn’t suitable. My heart race didn’t change until you interrupted with your routine negativity. I wish you weren’t so unhappy. Unpleased with your day to day routine. I want to love you, and i want to trust in you for staying the way that you act. But, it has become more of patience. Low to those nearby you. If we were to put a comparison to it, I’m pouring coffee out, with sugar and fancy creamers and no one is replenishing my mug. This metaphor I have a cold fucking coffee. So for all reasoning and balance, thou have to be extracted from our everyday experience.

It amuses me and reminds me of my very essence that I have one parent with the most frozen heart. So cold it’s bitten. And the other one with a bleeding heart! Slightly drunk and at times immature. Somehow, always reliable. Mommy Dearest thinks that I’m “resentful,” but in actuality, I’m googling which of my 60ish house plants are most qualified for the kitchen shelf above the stove and preparing a back to school supplies list for our two most enthusiastic children. Check out my Pinterest for all the inspiration! https://www.pinterest.com/sarcasticmomsclub/

I’ve been feeling conflictions in growth. I have zilch energy left from my pessimistic parent predicament (bahaha! Hashtag PPP) that i cant exhaust enthusiasm towards a lousy friend. I wish i were better at this and admit this flaw in my nature fully. With that said, my friendships have consisted of you don’t give a shit about my attitude, and I am sorry. But not sad. A little removed. And we push on. All of my associations went this way numerous times, regrettably.

I have the most wondrous family! We experience ups and fluffs, but we always strive to unify, which is what’s most powerful. The admiration and passions perceived within the two of us from a mere hug after any downhill moments are powerful enough to wash away a silly argument. When we fuck, we bind around each other and weave into one another like an old oak tree.

Any man that bestows enthusiasm to plants because y’all do is a damn superstar! 😉 He is the most incredible daddy. I treasure seeing him with our children! i beam while laughter swells the room. i try so hard to be everything that I’ve decided not to forget that i forget to be in the moment. I’ve been very conscious of this recently, and it’s been such a refreshing change in our hearth. Connections are swirling. And i only have room in my soul for the right matters. The application is everything.

My little sister has motivated me to shape a “goodbye summer” day voyage. About fun after all the school clothes lameness is accomplished but before the school year begins!

Yassss!

So off to shower and then bed. I just ate a stack of Oreos with a cup of milk, and Southern Charm is on the DVR. Time for sleep.

It’s My Birthday, and I’ll Blog if I Fucking Want To

Insecurity, failed attempts at managing anger and omissions versus a genuine love and compassion for one another, just trying to find the right balance and emotional stability while caring for three littles and a teenager.

We’ve been dating a total of six years this coming August. Although we had our daughter together four years ago, this man always has a tremendous paternalistic love for my children that I was never expecting to find.

Just having left five years of negative relations with my daughters Father, I found myself five months along before even considering pregnancy! It couldn’t have been an option! I was left battling through many restless evenings of nightmares about my minimum wage budget, and how I could even imagine, let alone provide, more than my single parent limitations would allow.

Our story is unique, for sure! We both base our spiritual roots in Christianity but battled with our own stories of addiction. We met in an outpatient rehabilitation program when neither of us was searching for love. Previous to this point, It had been a decade of essential survival. Unimaginable struggles after being orphaned by my poor sickly grandmother and passed on to my neglectful mother; I petitioned the court for emancipation at 16 years of age, and was declared an adult in the eyes of the law. Fucking 16 years old, and my mom wouldn’t nurture or provide the necessary steps for one to function in society, let alone at high school. My Freshman year, many moons ago, an old acquaintance of mine who was eager to show off how talented and sticky her hands had become, caught wind of the abusive relationship between my mom and I, an stops by the house with a garbage bag full of crisp and unworn clothes. Security tagged with metal detectors. (translated to shoplifting)

Mom only noticed after a few days passed lacking any of the desperations one would expect from a teenager in this scenario. I took my very last punches in the head when I ran past her and out the back of the house. She was court-ordered to pay back the money she had confiscated from me, due to the lack of support.

Meeting my boyfriend was a skeptical bout of wanting a chance at happiness and what would this man’s intention be with a pregnant woman? He was so handsome and sweet. What was his real angle?

Although significantly improving who I am now, today. Those earlier years throughout my 20s became focused and very clear to me, the closer to 30 I became, the more acceptable it was for me to lack all responsibility. I started expecting the worst, vowing and daring to assume that I wouldn’t miss out on any chances to level-up… one day—humbled by the Japanese wabi-sabi approach to life. Mental health disparities were always affecting my perspective of the world around me. I continued floating around for years. An immature go at marriage ending in divorce and a few others, irrelevant to the mindset I had towards a sense of family.

I’m in one place spinning out of control, and meanwhile, on another road, a former back injury had introduced prescription pain pills into the once-vital life my boyfriend was leading. By the time the doctor’s office ended the dosage, he was addicted to opioids. Disoriented traffic stops leading to legal issues followed by a probation officer and ten years on paper.

We each had our List of critical basket case issues that we were addressing by entering ourselves into an outpatient program. Sitting across from one another on that first day, I remember noticing his shoes were the same as mine. We’re the only two out of 50 people wearing the same brand of shoes. Cheesy, but the very reason why he even caught my attention. Shortly after that, class ended, and a room full of deprived smokers piled out of the classroom. He and I gravitated towards the back of the line. Small talk to introductions about who we were.

My sister’s husband was scheduled to retrieve me that evening, and as typical, was fashionably late, but I found myself not minding! The way he spoke. The way he smelled. The way he walked. I was recently looking back in time to that moment, curious about what it is I was expecting from his presence in my life.

When the unwanted brother of mine finally shows up, it turns out to be a 30-minute high school reunion between the two men.

And so with the bbq planning, began the first authentic love experience of my life.

The rest of this story is packed full of high peaks and betraying valleys.

Ultimately, we are focusing on bringing up four strong-willed, most beautiful little humans together. Both want our cherished elder’s 1950 moral values of manners and respect instilled into today’s new way of doing things — the millennial life.

The structure was so substantial, no amount of mistakes made between the two of us could utterly devastate this relationship. Or could they?

It’s been daily conflicts for some time now. Energy is pouring out of my soul and not being replenished. Dr. Phillip Calvin McGraw said,” Children hear what’s said and feel what isn’t.” They have precious little concern for me, and so having these Springer episodes as a focal point for reassurance makes me feel ashamed to admit were affecting their foundation or stability in any negative way.

I dabbled with blogging before, publically writing about such things that were filtered and inauthentic to the idea of what I wanted my message to be. My fear of being judged by people in our community held me back.

That’s why I created Sarcastic Mom’s Club with full anonymity. For those of us who no longer have any idea what our damn future holds. For the ones of us who have been in a stubborn silent treatment battle with our spouses, and might soon explode. Listening to a different version told of the most familiar story, expressing how tiring motherhood can be.

We’ve got this in front of us to deal with, and the rest is up to God.

My 34th birthday is tomorrow! Full of grace, I feel so blessed to have welcomed another year of life… Knock on wood.

Never have I ever made a birthday wish for quietness.

*Sips coffee.

In the First Degree

The new redaction of me is not going to go as placidly if I’m always second-guessing this relationship. It’s straight fucking disturbing to be looked in the eyes and lied to by a grown man as if he’s a child! Not your mother, doll. You’re not in trouble! I stand five foot, five inches. But, I’m being lied to as if I’m a nine-foot-tall psychopath. The topics up for question are basic. For fuck’s sake, if he lies about this, what lie won’t he say? What I do grasp, is this is no way to exist.

On a different matter, just us girls at the dwelling tonight. Ordered pizza with my 50 % off coupon and now we wait for din-din to manifest. Mess-free!

I don’t know about any of you, but I’m obsessed with Shark Week on Discovery channel. Well, this time National Geographic has graced us with another week of more shark matters! Such as bloody attacks. I mean it’s precisely what the viewer wants to see! However, who wants to watch two weeks of fun facts about sharks? I sense a trial amongst the networks!

I am so damn preoccupied with my thoughts. I stay just missing out on my day to day life. Always doubtful. I’m getting a paper and pen to write a recognition panel. A gratitude list. I may need a reminding. Alone with my feelings of loneliness. They’re lousy.

God Bless and Best Wishes.

Projectile

In today’s culture, if you talk about how hard motherhood is or the toll housework takes on your body, then you’re showing weaknesses. I say Fuck That! Talk about it because it’s crucial for survival in your own life. If I were to admit the amount of coffee I’ve drunk in 24 hours, one might question the side effects of caffeine on the human body. Like, maybe I’m too skinny because my breakfast consists of coffee with real sugar and two pours of creamer. We had a sexy session with anal, and now I’m freaking hurting as I compose this blog. Okay, damn. Somethings reverse with me for announcing that out loud but, if I’m going to sanctify the quality of on online record, then don’t pretend like you don’t know about anal. I’ll put some ice on my rear and take it more relaxed today. Calm down! It may just be strain from painting our bedroom two and a half days straight, doing the dishes, carrying the large ass basket of laundry from the garage into the house and back out again. Five people under the same roof produce so much fucking laundry. It should be illegal how much Tide we use. I take notes of this energy expenditure from our little family on our fountainhead Earth, and so I’ll bypass things like showering. Let us say that I’m the only hippie in our family! The babies look at me like I’ve gone loco when I take off my footwear and walk around barefooted to feel more grounded. The one who bothers about our inner forces or our feng shui flow being blocked. My man looks at me like I’m talking about tiny green men when I mention chakras. bahahaaa! I told him whenever i cooked our household feasts I was channeling a sorceress performing magic. The herbs, spices, and ingredients are my potions! Our remedies! I’m slowly actualizing that it’s up to me to bring all of the same celebrations and stabilities into our four youngsters lives. It’s not a newsflash for most mums in their 30s but, for this mother, it is. Any sorrow that I’ve felt was rooted in self-indulgence! If I tap that shit escape, then i have zero grievances towards my beautiful fulfilled life. Our mom tries to make all the siblings feel offense towards anything suitable in our lives. She says she’s entitled to anything and everything we earn because “she is our mother and gave us life.” That has correctness to an extent. She gave us life, so it isn’t in our hearts to roll our eyes at the offensive ill-will she’s speaking. But, how many times would you support a stranger insulting you? Most of you just said, “None.” It is a tricky, slick slope. Our mother gave us a name and then she walked away. If our Angel of a grandma wasn’t there to intercept us, Lord knows how or where we would have settled. And, it’s not entirely our mom’s fault, as she had us as a teenager and most likely experiences an unbalanced state of postpartum depression. This theory is just speculation. I’m not a Doctor! All we can confirm is that her way pushes us further apart.

For particulars on what I make these sweet demented children eat, check out my section https://sarcasticmomsclub.com/recipes/

Dragonfly

When something fucked up or trying happens, the first thing that one will typically do is to replay every aspect of the crisis, including the environment that the incident occurred in. And, if you’re anything like me, staying to make more memories in said space, requires you to change every single fucking detail. Down to the curtains that cover the damn windows you looked through coincidentally, that one time.

I’m metaphorically washing out anything left of “the old us” and welcoming in a completely new slate for our bedroom. The place that we, as a couple and as a family, go to retreat after an average day. A theater when the kids want a movie night. A sanctuary to meditate or pray or to sit in silence when we’re sad. And our love shack when the grownups want to feel sexy. To achieve this, I need a certain level and type of Hygge to be able to get all of these functions out of the small room.

I’m knee-deep in clutter, but the storm outside helps with motivating me along. Jesus Christ! I don’t even want to monitor my online banking…

When I feel the peace radiating around me, it’s all going to be worth it. I know that. You know that. We all know that! Bahaha… The reasons us SAHM come up with to justify the things that we do. To be continued, obviously.

I wasn’t always convinced of the chakra postulation, but after marking that the last three weeks were actually affecting my health, I started to grasp that these points of energy were pulsating in sync with the mindset that I was in. I took note of where these particular locations were on my body, and unforeseen, they were aligned with the seven chakra points! My Root, Sacral, and Heart chakras are in shambles, but my Throat is when it begins to go accurate and ironically, my Third Eye and Crown chakras are healthy. Its almost midnight and I’m drinking coffee. My personal problem is enjoying “me time” late at night.

With three toddlers on or around us always, it is smart to grab the quiet downtime when it’s available! No judgments on my bedtime! It’s noon somewhere! 😉

Any fucking who…

We had frozen stuffed cheese tortellini for supper. Bagged garlic bread. A jar of five cheese sauce. Practically, Olive fucking Garden.

Six years is a very long, but very short relationship. I don’t want to continue another second advancing with this man with a reservation in my head or heart, and pledging to myself to let him in completely and entirely and without fear. Just to love with a grateful and gentle spirit. I have always been so sharp-tongued and disorderly. The intention is to be more silent. More tranquil. To use my labyrinths more and my lips less.

To be a more at sympathetic Mother. I really see and apprehend the lesson that my 33rd year divided, and I’m welcoming 34 with a humbled heart. Intent and Silent. It’s a new idea that I’m venturing… instead of veering away from my emotions with rage.

It’s not like I have reliable, mature engaged parents to buck these ideas off of so bare with me guys! I literally discover as I go.

Shot dead

The hurricane in the Gulf. My Dad is calling me, telling me to prepare. I don’t want to Dad! All that I want to do is watch Southern Charm. I hate how impatient I’ve been lately with the kids because of all this emotional bullshit and, so tonight I let them help make the messiest dinner!

Laughter and flour everywhere… followed by shooing and bath time. Haha! Motherhood. Everything is calm.. like, the way it is after that big ass fight. We obviously love one another, or we wouldn’t be doing this thing called love. However, the sparks have died down. I assume that’s what happens when you have three little ones, and you’ve been fucking the same human for six years. The blunt answer is to figure out how to communicate calmly and make one another feel like they’re the only one in the world.

My dinner tonight was off the fucking chain. That good time soul food. We needed comfort food and, even the pickiest of them all was asking for ketchup. (It was chicken fried chicken baked potatoes with white gravy.)

It’s just going to be about the little things right now.

That’s what builds a relationship anyway. When you’re actually thinking in retrospect, it’s just the little things. Right? All of the kids are finally asleep… I’m going to go pack the bong and take a boiling, salty bath. I’m on my fabulous fucking cycle so, I don’t feel too sexy right now with my broken out, teenage-like skin. bahahaha! It’s a thing.

I hope that you are fortunate enough to be going to sleep with your sacral chakra in tact! 😉

best wishes

How the Fuck?

Train of thought… “laying next to you and not touching you. Not knowing if we really will be okay. Feeling like I’m lying when I tell the kids that I’m going to write out the fucking grocery list”

The new current state of living: a bipolar emotional shit show with a man that keeps running to his damn mother’s house anytime shit goes south. This is all a lot to deal with internally while trying not to lose your shit in front of three children under the age of ten. 7,5, and 4 to be exact. And when mommy is losing her shit, they truly can feel it. They get all amped up and start fighting with one another. Maybe in a way to distract mommy from what is currently going on. Someone determined once that I said the word I too much…

to keep the harmony in the household, we just didn’t speak to one another. I cleaned like I’ve never cleaned before! I’m talking cps showing up any fucking second fresh! And. He put together the new beds we got for the girls. (I bought one, and he bought one) All the while… we just didn’t talk. And if we did it just wasn’t what we say to one another in our most salutary. There have our ups and downs and ups and downs … but, I am genuinely concerned that this time it has all gone too remote.

When my feelings get hurt a certain way, my human instinct is to fucking shut down and block that pain off. I am worried that this time has launched me too far away. Too much towards shunning the man I was in love with three fucking weeks ago.. this time was so fucking offbeat, and it is causing this rift among … fucking everything… we shall see? I just don’t know what the fuck happens next. I’m no good at simulating happiness.

Meanwhile, Thank you to the good Lord above that we have one another and the roof over our heads. That we have a home, our haven and whether or not we are speaking… we are sleeping within elbowing range of each other, and for that Lord, I am so very obliged. We are exceedingly blessed with what is in front of us, and I beg you to get the negativity out of our house. To give me the enthusiasm to be what this man desires me to be, the mother these kids need to me to be, the sister, the daughter that I am envisioned to be. In the name of the Father, I pray. Amen.

The nights alone just traversing around the house staring into infinity. Patrolling the window and policing the clock just hoping this asshole will bestow me with his presence. This is a matter of days, and it has felt like many moons. And he just doesn’t show. Not until I’ve had enough time to convince myself that he’s pounding every bitch in town and only then does he show up with his arms out by his side acting like I’m the one whos demented. I have never gone. Or omitted data to sway trustworthiness. I don’t give up on him quite the same.

I have an anger management issue that everyone knows about but, this man is the only person that reaches into the depths of my darkest moments and uses hurtful revelations against me in a way that makes you say ill catch a fucking assault charge today! (totally kidding.., no record.. knock on wood) But his bottom line is if I hit him, he’s gone. So then why does he say the things he does? Angering me .. practically urging me to end the relationship so that he doesn’t have to.

Well, then he did. In front of two cops, his mom and thankfully, the kids didn’t depose all of this episode. Good God. I feel like I’m painting some bumpkin white trash country music song version of life. Yo! this is not our fucking atmosphere!!! I would never be striving for this if it was… would I?

Is this man what I thought he was or what I assumed he would be. Is that why we fight? My expectations and what he really denotes are two different personas. Who the fuck is that man in that hay, and what do we have devised for one another?!?! I am a bad bitch and quite exhausted of being told how much I engulf everything in life except motherhood. Like I call bullshit.. you think I’m stingy beyond control but the best mommy ever?

Hold on. Preheating the oven for late night pizza rolls I have these beautiful babies. My two wonderful kitties. Ones nearly a child and the other is his cat. bahahaha! Turned out to be a polydactyl cat discovered in our front yard from the same momma kitty … I am just now obtaining that I haven’t seen her in some weeks.. ruh roh.. I sure hope that foulness around the garage doesn’t have anything to do with her…

And, then there are my exceptional plant babies! These things produce an essential peace like never before! They are tedious but incredibly meriting if you want to substitute an old addiction or to fill up your bohemian gypsy back-before- it- was-a -thing dwelling. yaassssss!!! Pizza rolls! They are waiting! Let us pray that there are fun anecdotes to tell again.. maybe even shortly.. but, for now, heartbroken and trying to be an extraordinary fucking Mother.. fingers crossed! That moment when you go lay down next to someone you want to keep so fucking bad but, just seems like you can’t.

best wishes