The other night at 11pm, I got a text from my dad. For normal families, this would be nothing out of the ordinary, but for my dysfunctional disaster of a family, it was a big deal.

See, my dad and I haven’t really been talking since about August of 2010. When I contacted a man I thought might be my brother. He sent me an email that told me I was basically shaming my family– which I thought was ironic since HE was the one who had the affair that caused the doubt in the first place. I decided back then that the drama wasn’t worth my time, and I stopped talking to them- him in particular. Not like it was a huge deal, since my parents never stop by, and he hadn’t even met Poppy before we had that argument (she would have been a year old by then).
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I just don’t know what to do. I’m so very torn right now…

One of my friends sold me a Nintendo 3DS (that I’m still making payments on *sigh) last week. $90- in two installments, and it came with a handful of protective gear stuff, and a game. I kept it put up because we didn’t want Poppy to ruin it, but Christopher mistakenly pulled it out when Ian was home a few days ago, and Ian perked up and got super excited about it. Said he really liked it, wanted one for his birthday, blah blah blah.

And now it’s missing.
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No one in my family has divorced. Well, one of my uncles did when I was really young. His marriage was in its infancy, and they divorced. He remarried and has been married for probably close to 20 years. I’ve heard stories about how it’s a loveless marriage, but they stay married because they are supposed to. “For their kids.” My parents are still together. My grandparents were all still together. When it comes to my own marriage, I feel like a complete failure… like I couldn’t make it work, and it was all my fault.

Letting my family down is one of the biggest reasons I haven’t left already. As miserable as I am, I don’t want to admit failure to my family.

Out of nowhere a couple days after the FB announcement, I get a text from an unknown number:

“Marisa told me that u n chris r no more- whats up with that? Any truth 2 that?”

Who.In.The.Hell??

First I thought it was one of our mutual friends. And then I was thinking maybe it was someone from FB who contacted her to get my number. But since I couldn’t figure it out, I texted back with the obligatory, “Who is this?”

“Opps, I guess u dint have my cell# last time I checked I was ur mother lol”

MY MOM?

Oh my gawd. My mom knew about all of this shit? I don’t know why I didn’t think this would hit her. She’s not on Facebook, and doesn’t do a lot of computer stuff. So I was just hoping she’d be oblivious to all of my drama. But my sister couldn’t help herself.

I contemplated what to text back.

“Well…”

Now she was rushing me. She just wanted to know all of the juicy details as well. Probably so she could offer up a big huge plate of “I told you so.” (They stood me up when I got married and my dad told me months before that that I was ruining my life by getting married… even though they’d never met him before.)

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want her to have one more thing to hold above my head and mark down as to why I’m a complete failure and I’ve shamed my parents once again.

I texted her back and told her that I didn’t really know what was going on, and that he wasn’t the same man I married anymore, and I didn’t know if that man was coming back.

And I got nothing. No reply. Nothing.

I was fuming. All she wanted was to delve into my drama enough to confirm that yes, I was a fuck up, and then she didn’t even have the courtesy to reply with an “I’m sorry,” or an “I love you,” or anything. The whole thing pissed me off and I was reeling about it all freaking night. What kind of mom does that kind of shit?

Mine apparently.

My friend Jen told me to text her back a reply not to worry, that I knew how worried she was, and that her grandchildren will still be well taken care of and that I had everything under control. I really contemplated, but then I decided it seriously wasn’t worth my time.

The next day, I got a text from my mom saying that my dad came home, and had company with him, and she got busy, and then it was too late, so she figured she’d just text me the next day. I almost felt bad for being so pissed off the night before…

She wanted to know what the issues Christopher and I were having. Money? Kids? Something else? She seemed to be prying, and I really didn’t want to give her any details.

I told her he changed when Amy died. That he pushed everyone away. She asked me why he didn’t pull us in closer, in his time of need. I told her I didn’t know. She seemed worried about how the kids were taking it, I told her I smoothed it over with them and they’d be okay. She was worried about me being able to pay the rent, I told her that I had it figured out, and I’d be able to cover the rent. And then I got a text that completely BLEW ME AWAY.

“Oh well god I’m at a loss here I can’t do anything cept tell you I really am very sorry n i love u.”

I just stared at it for couple minutes. Reread it. And Reread it again. It seemed genuine (enough so that I locked it in my phone). I didn’t know what to say. Except for to cry. Just for a very brief moment, my mom seemed to genuinely care about my life.

And just like that… my phone started dying, and I was nowhere close to home. I felt like I was being robbed of this very important moment, but could do nothing about it. I texted her a thank you, and told her I loved her too, and that my phone was dying, and that it was nice to have her cell phone #, and I’d have to call her back.

And that was that.

The first thing I thought of was my grandma saying, “I wish I could see the day where you and your mother would get along.”

Is this the day she’d been waiting for all of my life?

UPDATE: BTW- for everyone worried if divorce is in the works, I’d have to say that’s a big negative for the time being. He’s back to his old self, we talked about it all and he quit his FB page. Said everyone takes it too seriously, and if he woulda wanted to divorce me, he wouldn’t have told me on FB. Said he was “just trying to make a point.” I made it very clear that humiliating me like that in public wouldn’t be something I’d soon forget. But for now, I guess he’s pretending like all of this garbage never happened. Gotta love it. *sigh

I didn’t make any new year’s resolutions… so I won’t say that I’m back on the Blog Wagon because of that… but I do miss blogging, so here’s to making it stick this time. I really need this outlet. I have REALLY missed my blog.

It’s no secret that my husband and I have been having a rocky time. Really rocky this past year, but I’d venture to say (if I really had to put an actual time on it) that it’s been rocky since Amy died. Not only did I lose my sister-in-law, but I lost my husband as well. And he’s not bounced back. Not even close. He’s become a raging alcoholic, and all he cares about is drinking. He stopped caring about everything else. Including me. And it’s sad.
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I spoke about my friend Sheila HERE and mentioned how I was trying to reconnect with her.

BEST THING I COULDA EVER DID.

I missed her so much. And now we talk or hang out every day. It’s nice to have someone in my life who understands and remembers exactly how my childhood was, and what my mom did to me for so long. It’s like I don’t even have to explain shit… it just goes unsaid because she knows exactly what I’m talking about before I even say it.

She’s so much more stable in her life now… and she’s been really supportive of all of the drama I’ve had lately. I’m amazed. It’s like our relationship has come full circle. She’s the one trying to fix me now. Assuring me everything will be okay, and talking to me about all of the stressful things in my life. I can’t believe how life works sometimes. Absolutely amazing. I love her so much, and can’t believe I have her back. Just having her around lowers my stress level and helps me calm down when I’m all worked up and upset about shit. (Which I’ve had to deal with a lot lately because my MIL is fucking CRAZY. But that’s a different post.)

It’s been a miserable week- but I’m so happy to have her here to help me thru it all.

Well not quite… but I feel like a displaced family after a natural disaster.

Don’t worry, we still have a roof over our heads thanks to my inlaws, and the kids are being taken care of just fine. It’s just not what I’d say is “ideal.”

It all started at the beginning of this year. Our landlord came over and taped a statement to our door. A polite way to say “Pay your fucking rent, please.” I noticed that we owed over a grand, but I figured Christopher had a plan and he was working with the landlord about it all. I was kinda concerned at this point, but not worried. Yet.

I mentioned it to Christopher, he said he was sending some money, not to worry, he had it covered. I dismissed the whole issue, and figured he knew what he was doing.

Then we got another statement. No rent had been paid.

Growing increasingly more concerned I asked Christopher where the money was going? Why wasn’t he paying rent? What was going on? I got the run around that we had disconnects that came up on certain bills and we had to pay them, blah blah blah. So rent got put on the back burner again. He was planning on telling the landlord what was going on.

Let me rewind and add that in the end of January the IRS yanked over $9000 of our tax refund from us for my student loans. I guess we’d been behind in rent long enough Christopher was planning on using our taxes to catch everything up. But that all fell thru when they yanked our taxes.

The last statement I remember seeing said we owed over double what the first one said. I was starting to panic and freak out. Christopher assured me that he was working with the landlord, and maintaining contact. I was getting upset about the whole thing and by now conversations about the rent were causing arguments and would end pretty heated.

But still, he assured me. He had a plan.

Meanwhile, I reconnected with an old boss of mine on FB and he offered me a job (first outside job I’ve had for about 10 years ). Things were starting to look up and we were excited to have some extra money in the house. I was gonna be able to work whatever hours I’d like, and I’d be able to work from home. I could even bring the kids into work if I’d like. I was feeling confident that even if he wasn’t paying the rent with his paycheck, that I was gonna start paying it with mine. We’d be caught up in no time. Getting this job opportunity dropped into my lap like that breathed life into me, and gave me a breath of fresh air. Life was definitely looking up.

Then, one night in the beginning of April, while I was cooking dinner, at around 6pm or so, I hear a knock on the door. I yelled “hold on…” and wiped my hands and walked toward the door.

An unfamiliar face greeted me at the door. “Can I help you?”
He asked if I lived here, and if my name was such n such. I told him I did indeed live there, and yes, I was the person in question.

He handed me some paperwork.

I looked down expecting another one of those garnishment letters, but immediately had the air ripped outta my lungs and immediately felt like throwing up.

We were officially being evicted.

Evicted.

That word looks so vicious to me. Mean. Cold. Heartless.

I’ve never been evicted in my whole life. I’ve always had a place for me and my family to stay. I’ve always taken care of my kids. Always. I’ve never once not had a clue what was going to happen.

And contrary to popular belief… they don’t have to give you 30 days. We were given less than 2 weeks to find another place and get out.

We had court on my birthday (YEA Happy Birthday to me!)- and the judge gave us an extra 48 hours grace period to get the rest of our stuff out. Everything out by April 15th. We didn’t have time to grab everything. We left so many things there. So many memories. So many things I wished I could take but we didn’t have room in the storage unit. I lost almost all of my owls. All of the beanie babies I’d collected over the years. Gone. So many of the kids’ toys, and clothes, and other knick knacks and furniture. Gone.

I feel like a tornado hit my life.

And I’m hurt. How could he do this to our family and lead me to believe everything was okay? How could he not tell me so that I could try to help fix everything? Why did he wait until I was served with an eviction notice to let me know how bad things really were? I guess this is what I get for trusting him with the bills.

Never again.

So now, we are cramped into one bedroom at my inlaws, that has a double bed, and a dresser and closet filled with someone else’s stuff. I have a makeshift desk made out of TV Trays for my computer, and we are living out of suitcases. Prospects are less than stellar. And on days like this, I have to remind myself that I should try to smile at least once during the day.

I can’t believe this is my life.

My first real boyfriend was a guy named Steven. I’m not talking my first puppy love, but the first guy I stuck around with for any length of time. His name was Steven. We were together for 13 months during high school. We remain friends to this day.

Steven and I were attracted to each other from the moment we met. He walked with me on my hour long trek home from school, just to spend time with me. It was a long walk, and our school books were heavy, but it didn’t matter because we were both lost in how attracted we were to one another… but too shy to do anything about it, yet. My mom didn’t allow company in the house while she was at work, so when we got to my house, we went to the backyard and hung out back there. He didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want him to leave, and there was enough sexual tension to cut with a knife. Right before he said his goodbyes and we said we’d see each other tomorrow, I quickly leaned in and kissed him. It had all of the makings of an after school special. Later he confided in me that he wanted to kiss me, but I beat him to it. I was the first girl who was ever that forward with him.

Steve was a bad boy. He did things he didn’t tell me about because he didn’t want to involve me. He used to sneak out at night, sometimes he’d be gone for a couple days on end and his mom would tell me she had no clue where he went. He cheated on me a couple times while I lived outta town. He ended up with an ankle bracelet on and house arrest. I still loved him. Even though I lived 45 minutes away, I’d convinced my mom to let me work on the weekends in town, and then after work I’d go over to Steve’s house and she’d pick me up from there.

The majority of our relationship was spent in this little bedroom with a giant king sized waterbed in it. Not because we were having sex (because his parents and brother were pretty good at preventing that from ever happening)… we just hung out in his room to have some privacy and get away from his parents. I never had any problems with his parents, but he did. I think everyone hates their parents at one point in the game or the other.

On our one year anniversary, I arranged to spend the night in town with one of my girlfriends. Everything was set into place, and I was so excited about spending the day with my Love. Except he had other plans. I showed up at his house, and he wasn’t there.

He totally stood me up.

I was devastated, but I couldn’t do anything about it. We only got to see each other on the weekends, and he’d blown off our chance to hold one another and be together to be with his boys off making deals or whatever it was he found to fill his time.

Shortly after that, I couldn’t handle my mom anymore, and I ran away. I was afraid if I kept in contact with Steven while I was on run, that the cops would find me. My parents knew exactly where he lived, and despite how much his parents loved me, I didn’t think they would have offered me asylum. I didn’t want to go back home, so I stayed away. I cut all contact with Steve, and I didn’t look back. My feelings were still very hurt over being stood up on our anniversary, and eventually I fled into the arms of Superdad. Back then he was just my best friend. We talked about everything together. I guess the chaos of being on run and the paranoia of knowing that my grandparents were good friends with people on the police force and the DA clouded my brain, and we were just in the moment of everything. Before Superdad and I actually kissed or anything, I’d decided that if Steve didn’t think I was important enough to be with on our anniversary, then I didn’t want to be his girlfriend anymore.

He found that out about a month later.

I still regret the way I broke up with him to this day. It was shitty, and I know that. And I’ve apologized to him probably 100x, but to me I’ll never be able to apologize enough. I was his first love, and even years later, he kept trying to get me to come back to him. He swore he realized what he’d lost, and he just wanted me back again. He offered to raise Reagan as his own. He did the same thing when Ian was born. And when I had Madison, and I thought I was finally ready to leave Superdad and be with Steve again- he had finally got over me. Karma at its finest I guess, right? That’s what I get for thinking he’d always stick around. I always thought of him as my Plan B.

Fast Forward ten years. Steve and I lost touch for awhile, but right before I got pregnant with Poppy, I found him again. We got really close that summer. Even cried together on the phone and had several heart-to-hearts. Nothing sexual, we are just very close friends.

We lost touch again right after Poppy was born, because I always become a hermit after my babies are born. Something about being sleep deprived and having spitup on me that doesn’t make me feel especially social and kinda kills the desire to go hang out with people. But I found him again right around Poppy’s first birthday I think? And we’ve been keeping in touch for the past year. He was having a hard time getting a job, so I had Christopher hook him up and now they work together. I joke that Christopher gets to spend more time with him than I do.

Recently we had to move, and Steven helped us move almost everything. He was a godsend, and I appreciate everything he’s done for us. We are staying with my inlaws now, who ironically live right around the corner from where Steven lived when we were kids.

Driving by his old house is surreal. And I do it almost daily now.

I pulled over the other day for a brief moment in front of his old house. I just stared up in the upstairs windows, and for a second I remembered walking up the stairs… turning to the right, and walking into his bedroom. I remembered his soft music, and laying on his bed, and talking about everything and nothing all the same.

I almost felt guilty for growing up. I miss when it used to be that simple.

My mom had a best friend who lived with her boyfriend, and had two kids. A boy and a girl. I’ve known them almost as long as I can remember. The girl was a year younger than I was, and her brother was two years older than I was. Both of our moms had labelled him a Bad Boy. A problem child. I was mildly intrigued. He did everything I was told not to. He skipped school, stayed out at night, drank, smoked, probably smoked pot or did other drugs. He mouthed off to his mom, and did whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted. He did everything I wish I was brave enough to do, but too chicken to do the time when my parents found out I did the crime.

Despite my mom telling me I was to have nothing to do with this boy, he and I snuck around behind their backs for quite some time. I remember being so shocked he’d even give me the time of day. Like I had something special, and was honored he’d be interested. It was fun. We would all be together for dinner or whatever, and he’d quickly wink at me and nod his head… then he’d announce that he had “go to the bathroom” and sneak into the kitchen, where I’d meet him because I “needed a glass of water.” We’d hurry to make out and giggle and smile and carry on like no one had a clue what we were doing. I felt like I was in on the hugest secret of the century. He made me feel special even though our whole relationship was a giant secret. Maybe that’s what was so special about it. We were the only two who knew about this forbidden tryst.

He was always pushing the envelope, but it was exciting. Exhilarating. I learned so many things from him. He taught me how to kiss. He was my first French Kiss. I always had butterflies around him. I was living on the edge. Petrified of what was next, but excited to find out what he had in mind. I wasn’t ready for sex, but he taught me about everything he could possibly come close to. I don’t know if I was ever in love with him, but I was definitely coming close.
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I’ve rediscovered music. In a way I never even had as a child. It’s magical, and I love how turning on my MP3 player and drowning all of the day-to-day noise out has completely changed my life. Almost as much as Andrea Gibson has. What an AMAZING poet she is.

Anyway, back to the music.

My friend David and I have been hanging out a lot these past few months, since he’s been back from his last deployment. We chat on the phone during the day or message one another during the evening when he has the time. He’s the first person who has come so close to almost cloning my musical tastes. It’s almost scary. I mentioned a really random song like Baz Luhrmann’s “Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen” and he’s like “Oh, I already have it on my MP3 player.” He likes Jewel, and Chicago, and he likes Fiona Apple, Alanis, and so much more. Christopher teases that if he didn’t know any better, he’d think David was gay. I just roll my eyes… I’ve never met anyone who likes all of the same music I do. I’ve never had anyone to talk to music about until now. I didn’t realize how important it was. Now I understand how Christopher can become so engaged in conversations about his favorite musicians. None of my friends have ever cared for my musical tastes so I never knew how that felt.

Until now.

And it’s delightful.

For Christmas I wanted to do something over the top. I wanted to do something the kids would never forget. And honestly, I just wanted to see their faces beam when they opened their presents.

Well- PRESENT.

We got each of the kids a few gifts because we decided to keep things small, and buy something special for the whole family.

I have had my heart set on a Hedgehog for months and months, and decided (if I could pull it off) then we’d give the kids a Hedgehog, wrapped up all pretty on Christmas Morning. I was super excited.

Finding a hedgehog in our area that met my budget requirement turned out being harder to find than I thought. We ended up finding one about a 4-hour drive from here. The woman was so nice, and after speaking back and forth via email, we found out that her husband hauls cattle out of state, and that he’d be delivering some cattle about an hour away from us. And she would send the hedgie up with him.

I WAS SO EXCITED!!

Christopher and his friend, Steve, drove up there and picked her up a few days before Christmas. And when he brought her home, I quickly stashed her in our bedroom and locked the door behind me.

How was I gonna keep my kids outta my bedroom for 3 days :O I HAVE TWO, SOMETIMES THREE, COSLEEPERS! If I was gonna pull off this massive surprise it was gonna take a miracle.

But I did it. They kept guessing what it was gonna be, but never got close. They knew I had Christmas presents hiding in my bedroom, but they didn’t have a clue it was an adorable little Hedgehog. They counted the days down until they’d finally be able to find out what I was so giddy about.

Christmas Morning came- and they opened all of their presents and got completely distracted with their new toys and clothes that they FORGOT about the Family Present. I took the opportunity for the setup and I sent them downstairs to put their stuff away. I jumped up quickly and grabbed her and stuck her under the tree. I yelled down the stairs that I think they forgot “one more” present. And they all screamed “FAMILY PRESENT!!!!!!!!!!!” and rushed upstairs as fast as their little legs could carry them.

They crowded around, and I told them they had to be really careful, and that they couldn’t move the “box” around. They all ripped off the paper, and peered inside. Since Fizzgig was hiding and they couldn’t see her, they were guessing what she was. A Gerbil? No. A Hamster? Nope. A Bunny? Not in that cage. They were stumped.

Reagan reached her hand in to see what it was, and Christopher barked out, “BE CAREFUL! YOU COULD GET HURT!!” and she got scared and snatched her hand outta the cage.

A Snake?

No kiddos, not a snake. I finally revealed it was a HEDGEHOG… and they were soooooo excited to see her.

All six of them with our new pet, Fizzgig (Fizzie for short)

Up Close pic of Lex with Fizzie <3

It’s safe to say this Christmas will be a Christmas they will remember for years to come Fizzie is definitely the talk of the town as of late