Bright, shiny objects...

See these?




These are the keys to the palace. I got them yesterday. They're so pretty. Not as pretty as the things behind the doors they open, but wow. I mean really, just wow.

I'm so excited.

I feel like I did the first night I remember trying to crawl up the hallway in our house we grew up in to sneak a peek at the gifts under the Christmas tree. That moment of glee I felt as I inched closer to the doorway at the end of the hall. Right before I heard the booming voice of my father say, "Get back in that bed before I take all your Christmas presents and send them back to Santa!!". (Ummm, yeah...)

So, enough bubble bursting. After one successful day of packing and one not-so-successful day of packing, I'm taking my first boxes over. I'm also taking over the Terrific Trio.

I'm probably more excited for them than I am for myself. I can't wait to see them run wild and free through this house. I mean really run. In circles even. They are going to be so happy there. I am determined that I am going to be so happy there, too. The look on their faces will say everything I want to hear. That it's going to be ok. That we're going to face life in this new family structure with strength and open arms. I'm starting to get sappy.

Back to bright, shiny objects that I covet...do any of you have a mother's ring? If so, what does it look like and what made it the one you wanted? I'm dreaming of one, I just don't know what style I would like. I tend to stick to more simple jewelry and not much for the ornate. My mother's mother's ring is a band with stones for each of our birth months. Its always been one of my favorite pieces of jewelry that she wore (along with her silver ball earrings. I get my taste in simplicity from her. Forget that gawdy stuff.) So, tell me about your mother's ring, or your mother's mother's ring, or her mother's mother's ring (ready to smack me, yet?).

Have a happy Thanksgiving and may your turkey be tasty!

Butchering Thanksgiving...

Here it is. The post where I butcher Thanksgiving.

I'm thankful (the good, the bad, and the ugly):

...that my soon-to-be-ex is just that. It eliminates a lot of things that I'm not so thankful for.

...that I'm moving. I hate packing boxes but it means a bigger place for me and my babies and who wouldn't want that? (Except for the whole guilt-over-wanting-my-baby-out-of-my-room feeling. I just want to roll over at night without waking her up. Really. She doesn't bother me otherwise.)

...that I'm not cooking for Thanksgiving. Going to my mom's and probably helping cook some and do cleanup but at least it's not at my house. I know. I'm such an ass sometimes.

...that I'm not responsible for looking good for anyone but myself now. Who cares what he thinks about my new haircut? Not me, that's for damn sure! I like it. A lot.

...that I've started blogging again. I get to let it out without letting everyone know it's out. :-)

...that I'm letting go of what my idea of a "perfect" family was supposed to look like. My family is perfect just the way it is now. All we need is love. *doing the seventies hippie peace sign while swaying side to side wearing tie dye tee shirts and bell bottom pants* (I know you're laughing.)

...that I'm rewriting my fairy tale everyday. It's always going to be a work in progress but that's the way it should be. Who needs a white knight or a castle? I got my battery powered friend and a door that locks. It doesn't pick an argument with me every time it sees me either.

...that I have 3 of the most beautiful children in the world who love me unconditionally. I would go to the ends of the earth, wipe their asses, take bullets, get a snotty nose wiped on my good shirt, move mountains and get baby carrot stains out of their white shirts for them all at the same time if they needed me. All that just to see those gorgeous smiles.

So, tell me. What are you thankful for? Even if its just having a washer/dryer hookup in your house (which I will be so thankful for once I get moved. Say it with me...NO MORE LAUNDROMAT!! YAAAAY!!!)

I'm moving...

So...

I'm getting ready to move. Not fun. I may be hit or miss for a few days (weeks, super lazy here). I'm all about the getting my thoughts out so if you see posts at odd times, I may be borrowing someone else's computer until I gets the net hooked up (someone else meaning work. What?)

I hope to see you all again soon where I can regal you with tales of how wonderful it is to finally have a room and quite possibly a shower that doesn't have small, sharp toys full of cold water laying in the bottom of it to myself.

Pray that the box fairy hooks me up with some boxes that can withstand some serious weight (too many books, I mean way too many books, but there are book shelves! Oh Em Geee!!)

Life is looking up. I can see my reflection in the hardwood floors and I'll be damned if I'm not smiling.

Don't feed the beast. (The one where I get a grip.)

There is a lot to be said for people who can control their anger. It takes some serious "equipment", if you know what I mean. I can keep a handle on it most of the time. I slip every now and then and say some things that aren't nice. I've even been known to tell a few people how I really feel. I'm only human, right?

So, when I decided to finally let fly and get a few things off my chest earlier, I felt better. I almost felt vindicated, except that now I don't . I know in all my anger, my point got lost. I ranted and raved. I even cussed (which if you know me, has been a great struggle NOT to do so far due to all the ANGRY feelings). In all the rush to say the things that have been boiling just below the surface the entire time, I lost the cool that drove my points home. It's my cool that made my reasoning sound, well...reasonable.

I fed the beast within and for a few moments, it felt powerful. I felt like I had won the war. I pissed him off enough to hang up on me (which even now tickles my funny bone but still is an empty laugh). It was one single time since all the sh*t hit the fan that I have really let go and said what was on my mind. The problem was that instead of saying the things that were important, that may have made him open his eyes a little and see where he's screwing up, I let anger get the best of me and rattled off a list of grievences that are stupid and petty and useless in the long haul.

I let my dog off it's chain and boy did it run free. I know I can't jerk that choke collar and drag the words back to my mouth so they could be properly reflected upon before being rearranged and spouted back out at the dispicable target they were aimed at but I guess that's what I'm wishing for. (Holy run-on sentence, Batman!) There are so many things I could have said that would have been better than the drivel that I burst out with in that instant of hate (and it was definitely hate because I cannot stand the word he used to describe me at that time). I will have to find a better way to get my message across next time.

Until then, I've taken off the gloves. No more Mrs. Nice-Future-Ex-Wife. In taking off the gloves, I took off my wedding rings, too. They're only metal now. Metal and stone, which if they were bigger would be heavy like my heart.

Rainbow farts and puppy dog eyes...

Things are looking a little better around Forgotten Fairy Tale land today. Mostly because the land is relocating to greener pastures (or at least bigger pastures).

Who would have guessed that things could start looking up this quick. Karma. I'm telling you. Holding open that door yesterday for the guy with the laundry basket full and running over. (Or maybe it was smiling at the hot guy in the local big retail facility and then realizing I was still wearing my wedding rings and turning red?) Oh, well.

It will mean some more adjustment time for my little trio of troopers but we can handle that. They'll probably be happier when they have some room to run/crawl anyways.

We're all rainbow farts and cute little puppy dog eyes over here right now and that's just fine with me! Yay!!!!

Leaving behind my pink unicorn...

Here's where things get dicey. Reintroducing myself to the world wasn't anything I thought I would ever have to do.

Yet, here I am. *clears throat* *smiles nervously*

Hi.

I've decided to tell it like it is. I know you've heard that a million times before. I definitely won't be the last to ever type those words and I'm certainly not the first.

So, here goes nothing. Things will get ugly long before they get pretty again.

My fairy tale came to a crashing halt a few months ago. I'm now a separated mother of 3 children under 3 years old. I know. I can picture the look on your face. A mix between horror, fascination, and utter disbelief. I had the same look before and I'm not so sure it isn't still there.

I have 3 beautiful children, a set of precocious fraternal twin boys who are 2 years and 7 months old and a gorgeous girl who is 7.5 months old. (Don't worry. I'll be posting plenty of pictures later.) They are the reason I'm here. I was meant to have these exquisite little angels and cherish them more than anyone can comprehend. That said, I still find parenting these little gifts quite a handful when tackled alone. No matter what the magazines or movies may show you, being a mommy (or a daddy) isn't easy. Take that as a warning to any teenagers who happen to stumble upon this little blog of mine. It ain't easy. Ask your mother, she'll tell you all about it.

My fairy tale was fairly simple. Girl meets boy. Girl falls for boy. Girl and boy decide to procreate (I know, straight to hell for doing so before marriage...I've heard all that before and I'll form my own opinion on where I'll end up later.). Boy proposes after conception. Well, well, well...looks like twins. Girl has heart attack...just kidding, but it seemed that way at the time. Boy almost does the same. We get over it. We get prepared. The scariest delivery I've ever experienced (again, I will tell that story in the near future). It's boys! Bring them home, move away from the big city. Wedding. Boys are doing great. Let's have another one! Bam!!! It's a girl! She's doing great and she's breastfeeding (yeah, you'll hear all about that later, too). As the kids keep doing wonderfully, we start falling apart. It's a long story. (One that I may never tell for courts are not kind to people who tell that kind of story for the world to see. Sorry.) We separate. That's where I stand. Several years of history summarized in a short paragraph. *wipes sweat from brow* Wow. It looks so clean and crisp but I know better. It's a damn mess. (The kids are great though. I know, go find a thesaurus and quit typing like I talk. I will widen my vocabulary as I age. I bought the word-a-day calendar. I'll work on it.)

So.

Here I am. Disillusioned but surviving. That's the important part. I'm surviving and I personally think that I'm doing a damn fine job at it (most days).

Now that I have dropped a few teasers about my life, I'll hope that I've gotten your attention. Maybe you'll hang around and see where I'm headed. I'd like that. I'm looking forward to saying hi. Maybe with less throat clearing, I know that bugs some people.