With their words...

There are people who wound you with their words.

Sometimes they don’t even realize that they’ve done it. They don’t see the deep, bleeding cut they’ve made when they carelessly dismiss you. Your lack of validity in their eyes is only comparable to the ocean swallowing you whole.

There are others who pierce you with their words.

They stab you deep in your subconscious, in places you didn’t know existed before they aimed straight for them. They bring out words and thoughts of your own that you didn’t even know you would put together if they hadn’t came along.

There are others who make your heart burst with their words.

They have the ability to make you love so completely that you could live forever on the pure bliss. They make you smile until your cheeks hurt and your laughter fills the air around you.

There are those that make you ache with their words.

They hurt so much that you hurt in sympathy. You fear being that deep in pain but yet you revel in their words because they can describe it so perfectly that they bring their pain to you and place it in your hands to deal with as you see fit. Some bring with it their hearts, because they can’t hold the pain in them any longer without help. And there you stand, aching, with it all in your hands.

There are those that make you think with their words.

They kick your brain in high gear and draw your focus to a fine point. They challenge you to be present in every conversation and they expect nothing less than the greatest assembly of words from your lips that you can conjure.

There are people who make you hate with their words.

They make you burn inside. They make you want to do things so despicable they are only described by other people who make you hate just as much. They are the ones you fear the most because they have the ability to turn you into something you never thought you could be…a monster.

There are people who can stop you in your tracks with their words.

They make you pause and rethink your actions before you make another move. They ask you to delve deeper into yourself before you do the things that would contradict all that you work so hard to make of yourself. These people hold a power over you that they will never abuse.

There are people who can convey everything without ever using their words.

They can tell you if they are happy, sad, quizzical, annoyed, pissed, euphoric, or just plain content without ever opening their mouths. The people in your life that communicate without ever using their words are the ones who are seated deepest in you. They hold hands with your soul.

We all need more people that hold hands with our souls.

On the other hand...

My left hand is bare.

Empty of the rings that bore the story of a marriage.

My left hand is unmarred. I don't even have an impression left where the rings used to lie. They were there for a little over two years but yet they left me without a trace.

On the other hand, is my diamond.



What once was a symbol of the promise of happily ever after, now just a shiny rock. It's clarity as transparent as the lies upon which the promise was based.

Should it still be there? On display for all the world to see. Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not sure.

I can't decide if I still wear it to remind me that promises are easily broken or if I wear it in triumph of having survived this separation, soon to be divorce. It's all a matter of finishing paperwork at this point.

I also wonder if I don't have other reasons for wearing it. Is it to shove it in the "other woman's" face that I had him first? Is it to shove it in his face that I have it now? Is it to prove to him that I'll do what I damn well please now that he's gone? Is it just because it's pretty?

Is it because I feel like I haven't "sparkled" in a long time?

I guess I'll never really have a single reason for keeping it on.

I'll replace it one day with something more meaningful. Something more beautiful. Someone more precious. And when I do, I'll wear it...

on the other hand.

Back in the saddle again...

Well, I’ve made my way back into the world of dating…Internet dating. *insert ominous music here* *DUM DUM DUMMMMM*

So far, I’ve had some interesting and some downright scary emails from men who have shown an interest in me.

Email #1: 52 year old man (my dad just turned 49 if that gives you any indication to how far outside of my age range this guy is).
Has a goatee that is cut in a very creepy way (looks like what us girls call a “landing strip” when we have a similar trim done down below, if you know what I mean), shoulder-length dark brown hair that is sticking out everywhere, and one of those strange stalker-like grins in his profile pic (which was taken with no shirt on and cropped from the shoulders up *gag*). Am I the only one doing the involuntary disgusted shudder right now?

In his email he made several offers:
1) He’d help me raise my kids. (Ummm, I don’t think so.)
2) He would like for me to produce him a son later on down the road. (Oh, wow. Where do I even begin with this?)
3) He would possibly help me adopt a “homeless” child if we could not have children of our own. (Again, I truly hope someone from social services is checking out the profiles on this website because I am still a little worried that this dude might find me and try to complete his offer. *blech* *retch* *barf*)
4) He would never curse around my kids and he would raise them in the proper fashion so that they would be respectful of women and their place in the household. (Oh, boy! Sexist to boot! This one just gets better every line! *insert drastic eye roll here* I might have sprained my eye from rolling it so hard.)
5) He would drive here and pick me up AT MY HOUSE to go out on our fabled first date together. (If I see any strange vehicles outside my house any time soon, I’m getting my shotgun out. If you’re reading this buddy, I totally have a shotgun and I know very well how to use it. I grew up with two brothers and a dad who hunt every year. I’m not bashful about guns.)

My reply to his very disturbing email: “No thanks.”
His reply: “I will respect and uphold your decision.” (Wow. Again. You better is all I have to say about that.)

Email #2: 25 year old boy (I’m going with boy on this one because of maturity level reasons. You’ll see why in just a few minutes.) His profile pics were not really anything out of the ordinary. He was playing a guitar in a few of them. He’s a tall, skinny musician. I can get behind that. I like artistic types, sort of.

Anywho, his email stated that he read my profile and thought I seemed nice. He then proceeded to give me his regular email, his college email, and his cellphone number. (Without ever having heard from me to see if I was a nutball or not.) He then added a P.S. at the bottom telling me I had a nice smile.

Ok, I thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt and just assumed that maybe he was a little too trusting. He was still younger than me so I decided to try to set things on the right path by asking him a few generic questions about himself such as was he does for a living and what were some places he liked to visit. (Don’t do this, ladies. It’s like opening the flood gates to stupidity. If someone gives you their phone number in their very first email, hit delete and empty your trash folder. TRUST ME.)

Who wants to take a guess about what his reply to my generic, non-suggestive, polite email was? Anyone? Ok. I’ll tell you. “So, you’re hot. Do you have anymore pics you can send me? Just send them directly to my phone if you have any.” (Oh, yay! Here we go AGAIN. Somebody stop me! *bangs head on keyboard repeatedly*)

My response: “No, I do not have more pictures of myself that I would like to send you. Did you read my profile in depth? The part about me being a single mom not looking for a fling, did you miss that part? If all you are wanting is someone to hookup with, you’re looking in the wrong place. As for your initial email, since you stated that you had just signed up for this, I’ll give you the benefit of being somewhat naive (*insert maniacal laughter here* because HELLOOOO, I just signed up for this shit myself and I know better…). You should never give your phone number out until you feel you’ve gotten to know the person you are emailing well enough to at least know that they aren’t crazy, a stalker, actually a man or something of that nature. You got lucky this time that I am a decent person and not some lunatic. Please refrain from emailing random strangers your phone number for your own safety. I believe from the emails received so far that you and I would not really be compatible. I wish you all the luck in the world of finding what you are looking for just be careful what you wish for and who you contact.

I felt kind of bad having to throw cold water on the poor guy. (Who am I kidding? Someone had to wake his little ass up. Reality, it’s full of people more mature than that. That’s high school stuff right there and if he’s in college, he should be moving past that shit.)

So, eligible bachelor #3, you better bring your A-game because so far I’ve got an offer for the opportunity to carry someone’s child for them and who’s gonna top that? (*prepares to have to junk-punch some guy*)

Next!

There's something poetic...

...about figuring out that you've grown up.

I had my first night out on the town since before my twins were born this past Saturday night. Since it has been several years since I've been out anywhere that didn't require a stroller or high chairs or a diaper bag, I kind of didn't know what to do with myself. So, I did the only thing I could really think to do in this area.

I went to a bar.

A place that wasn't very big, had a live band playing, and I was somewhat familiar with (at least I was over 5 years ago). I wandered in, kind of lost and not really sure what to do with myself. I worked my way towards the bar and ordered a coke (I am still breastfeeding after all). The bartender took pity on me and didn't charge me for it. Money spent so far: $5 to get in the door and $1.62 for a bottle of Coke that I bought on the way up the road.

After I got my soda, I wandered back across the room towards the stage where the band was playing to see if would start liking their sound better if I was being deafened directly in front of a large speaker versus being deafened by the distorted shrill voice of the woman singing from beside the stage. I was wrong. Still didn't like her singing.

Wandered a little further and actually ran into someone I know. She was there with some friends for a birthday celebration, and she was very drunk. I used to think she was a lot funnier than she was Saturday night. Must have been the alcohol I used to drink myself because she was just annoying this time around. As I was talking to her, some drunk 20-somethingish guy started standing beside me. As I'm talking to her, he leans towards me and starts telling me in drunken slurs how he loves this band and "It ain't no big thing.", whatever in the hell that was supposed to mean. He eventually wandered off when all I did was look at him funny and nod my head. Oh, well. The girl I knew went back to drunkenly staggering around with her girlfriends and I worked my way to a table to the side of the room.

Once seated, I almost immediately caught sight of a guy leering at me from a few tables away. And by leering, I mean dude was scary looking and was staring directly at me. Damn. Before I could make a break for it, here he came to talk to me. He asked me if I wanted to dance. I politely declined and told him to have a good night. Drunk old men are not that easily swayed. He wandered off but it wasn't no time at all before he was back to press his luck again. I declined again and he started asking me random questions so I fired one off in his direction to see how old the perv hitting on me really was, 54. I'm 29. My dad is 49. To say I was grossed out was an understatement. I got up and made a hasty exit.

Once I was outside in the fresh air, I realized that I was just not at all happy with the way this evening was going so far. I decided to try my luck at a different place. I drove a few miles away to a club that I used to frequent just after I turned legal drinking age. It's changed a little since I was there, but I couldn't tell you what the inside looked like because I never made it past the parking lot.

I pulled in and parked, leaving plenty of room between my ride and the car next to me because I could see people still in it. I killed the engine and started fiddling with my hair a little before I got ready to get out and head in. As I'm sitting there, the passenger window of the car next to me rolls down and out pops a girl with no shirt on. You read that right. No shirt. Bright pink bra. She sits up on the window sill and starts yelling to the people waiting in line to get in the club. As she's yelling, she looses her balance (as if you could have any when you're that drunk) and proceeds to fall backwards out of the window into the gravel parking lot. Right beside my driver's side door to my car.

Now, I had two options at this moment. I could sit there and wait on her friends to peel her off the parking lot, get out of my car, lock the doors and go in the club; or I could start my car and leave. Guess what I did?

You're damn skippy. I started that beast up and drove away as quickly as I could as soon as her friends got her far enough away from my tires. Damn. I'm so glad I never acted that stupid when I was her age. Even when I was that young, I never did anything that dumb.

The first thought I had as I was pulling out of the parking lot was, "I am too old for this shit." and that's when it hit me that I've grown up. It took a late night bar trip and a drunk girl with no shirt falling out of a car to make me realize I'm going to have to approach this dating thing from a totally different angle.

So, guess what I did this weekend...I signed up on a singles website. Lord, help me but I can see more posts as ironic as this in my future. Everyone pray for me because I am going to need it. ;)

Starting my day...

I hear my feet slap the floor as I walk. Bare feet against wood, me against the world.

I don't want to do this.

And yet I do.

I walk down the hallway, quietly open the door to your room, and stand in the last remnants of darkness listening to you breathe. Small breaths, so shallow you can barely distinguish them from the gentle hiss of air from the vent in the floor between your beds, but so important to me.

My heart hurts this morning and it just pisses me off, but being there in that moment soothes it all away. The dreams that haunt my waking hours; that make me want to hide from the world; dissipate when I see your sweet faces. You have the ability to calm my irrational brain when its far too frenzied with bad thoughts. I love this.

I flip the switch and light up the room. You don't even stir. Dreams still hold you tight to your pillow and you are oblivious to my attempt to cause your awakening. I shuffle to the dressers and pick out your clothes for the day, conscious of the fact that its cold outside this morning and I want something that will wrap you in a warm hug long after I've gone to toil my hours behind my desk at work. Camo sweat pants and a soft tee shirt, thick socks to warm your toes, and my love, all wrapped in my arms.

I slip from your room with the light still on and venture back down the hall to your sister's room. I open her door quietly also, because abrupt awakenings suck and I know this from experience. I pitter patter across the floor to the changing table and pile your clothes there with your shoes. I pause on my way back out and cover my sweet, sleeping girl back up. I can feel the chill on her arms as I pull the blanket to her chin. It makes me want to pull her up and place her bare against my chest like I did when she was just a tiny infant. I resist the urge and creep back out of her room, leaving the door open.

Back to your doorway, I stop and survey the damage. Toys everywhere, drool on the pillows under your chins (yes, both of you drool), hair cow-licked on one side and smashed flat in the other bed. I walk over with purpose in my steps this time. Try making a little noise so I don't have to BE what wakes you, but it doesn't work. You are out cold and no amount of noise, short of a bomb blast, would rouse you at this point. I lean over your bed and snuggle my face into your neck. You rustle, turn, giggle and try to push me away. Smiling and stretching, you push back your blankets as I smile down at you and tickle your belly. You start chattering to me as I wander over to your brother's bed and snuggle my face in his neck, too. Instead of pushing me away, he tries to pull the covers over both our heads. Silly goose. I drag the covers down and start the tickle war all over again. He finally rolls over and glares at me. He's not a morning person like his womb-mate in the other bed. I tell him to wake up and come get dressed as my morning person follows me out of the room to get his clothes on.

As I come back in my girl's room, I flip the light on. She stirs and grunts as she stretches, like a cranky old man. Only instead of a growl and a hidden head, she pops up like her mattress has springs and starts chattering with my morning boy, all excitement and smiles. Her hair is sticking out everywhere but I can tell that it's just messed a little and not actually dried in the curled-out, won't lay down later kind of way it usually ends up after going to bed with it damp.

And with that, my day starts, and though I didn't want to do it, I woke your sweet sleepy selves up. Welcome to today, my precious babies...

Just a few ways you'll know that I love you...

My face lights up when someone speaks your name.

I talk about you all the time.

You are in my thoughts when I wake up in the morning and right before I go to bed each night.

I will hold your hair back when you're sick and wipe your face off when you're done. I'll let you lay your head in my lap while I run my fingers through your hair even if I'm worried you might puke all over me or give me your cooties.

I'll go to every store in town just to find you that one special thing you requested.

I'll go without just so you can have whatever it is that makes you smile.

You make me smile with just one look.

You actually dug something out of the toilet for me.

I held you all night long because you wouldn't sleep unless I was holding you and seeing you sleep was more important than getting sleep myself.

My heart hurts at the thought that anyone would ever be mean to you.

I see red when someone dares to speak bad of you.

I try my hardest to get you to change a bad habit that would keep you around longer because the thought that you're doing something to yourself that would take you away from me even sooner than I would ever want you to go makes me cry.

I find excuses to get to see you even when I know you're busy or just tired because even when you're running circles around me or just sitting idle in the corner of your couch, I'm happy to be close to you.

I miss you when you're gone, even if it's just into the next room.

I love you so much I'd die for you.

You've heard me say those five special words...

I love you...

SO MUCH!