Responsible

I’ve never been a fan of the dentist. Who is? Having braces is what did it for me. Going in every month to have those suckers tightened and the mouth aches that followed turned me off completely. So as an adult, I have not been great about going every six months as is recommended. You would be surprised at how fast time flies in between dentist visits….or lack of. Red isn’t the responsible type (DUH) and didn’t go so it was all too easy for me to fall into that pattern as well. Luckily, we have strong teeth in our family and I haven’t had any cavities….till now. But still, only one. 36 and one cavity. The last visit was four years ago. I do not recommend waiting four years to visit the dentist. The work that had to be done on me wasn’t exactly fun. Two deep cleanings. The right side first and today was my left side. The worst part being injected with numbing agents so half your face is slack and numb, the tongue feeling the weirdest of all. Good thing Papa found a pretty good dentist, all women in that office and they’re really nice. I just don’t handle needles well. The insertion of needles into me causes my adrenaline to spike which makes me dizzy, sweaty and nauseous. Thankfully it passes within a few moments and I’m fine. Now the after effects. My tongue feels like a half-dead piece of meat inside my mouth. Yuck. It’s the weirdest feeling. Now with Papa, the very responsible one, He pushes me to take care of myself. To eat, go to the dentist and doctor, submit my application to go back to school. He nags, but in a good, gentle way. There is no sitting around not doing what you’re supposed to do with this Husband. And yes, I did get the application done and sent in to go back this fall. I’m nervous about how many of my transfer credits they will accept. Here’s to hoping….and trying not to drool on myself.

Missing Papa

Mondays are hard. Papa is at work for 12+ hours. It’s hard enough with Him being gone but then every other Monday, it’s just me without the kids.  A little shock to the system after a week of a full house with kids, laundry, homework, chores etc to a big empty, too quiet house. A little lost and a little lonely…missing Papa and the kids big time..

Lady Tremaine

Cinderella is one of my favorite Disney movies, the older Disney ones anyway. I don’t know why, she just always has been. I never had a wicked step-mom but I suppose my mother’s insistence on chores and keeping a clean house made me indentify with her a little. I love the mice and all the other animals who try so hard to help Cinderella get to the ball because she deserves a night, one night, of glamour and dancing with the prince. Now, it seems we have a real life Lady Tremaine on our hands..

Recently, I have been hearing from the kids how Stripe is making them do more and more. I have no issues with chores, teaching the kids how to do take care of themselves and keep house.  The kids have been telling me that they make their own meals at the other house, including some dinners. The girls pack their own lunches, which is good practice. I was doing that at 7 and feeding myself breakfast but mostly that was because my parents were on split shifts but dinner they always took care of. But this is where it gets a little hairy. My oldest, who’s 8, bathes the younger kids. That’s borderline, I think. She is also in charge of breaking up fights. Now it’s starting to make sense just why she is so bossy with the younger ones on our weeks, a habit we are trying to help her calm down but it could be a losing battle since half her life she’s in charge of 4 other kids. The part that gets under my skin is what was said. My oldest said she was told by Stripe that she’s sick of the kids treating her like a slave and they can take care of themselves. WTF? Then why is she a mother?? Why did she marry Red and agree to take on 3 step-daughters when she can’t and doesn’t want to have that much responsibility? The 4 year olds will be 5 in the next couple of months, they are growing up BUT nowhere near able to care for themselves. I gently prodded and asked what Stripe does while the kids are taking care of themselves? Take care of the baby. The Spawn is a year old. She’s not breast-feeding anymore. She doesn’t need CONSTANT care. Stripe doesn’t work. Yes, she has an additional baby but again, she agreed to taking on this responsibility and is now basically telling the children they’re a burden on her and making them take care of themselves. In addition, she only has them every other week, like us. What is she doing? Can she possibly be this lazy? Seeing an opportunity to create her very own slave so she doesn’t have to do anything. I’m saddened and disappointed. Eventually my oldest will grow and resent her for making her another Cinderella. And the very saddest part of all this….Stripe’s own mother did the exact same thing to her and she resents her mom for it. Now I will have to fight to break this cycle and make sure that my daughter knows she’s more valuable in this world than taking care of kids and/or bearing them. 

Lady Tremaine, the wicked step-mother  we all hated and celebrated when Cinderella overcame her slave-like situation and married her Prince, is in real life practice in our childrens’ lives. But never fear, Mama Bear is here! I may not have a magical wand to turn a pumpkin into a carriage or mice into glorious horses but I have lots of love, kind words and encouragement to raise strong daughters and a strong son, knowing their worth and being able to succeed. 

Giving Up The Hunt

The playing field down here is dramatically different than in Vegas. Whereas I thought Vegas was bad and I was looking forward to it being better, it’s worse. We’ve met three couples now and it was either we both were not interested or one of us wasn’t at least. At what point do you throw in the towel? How long does a hunter stay in the woods not catching a damn thing before he goes home? Same question for a fisherman? I know….that doesn’t mean the next time they’re out, they won’t find good game. But we aren’t finding good game.  And nor are we even finding a lot. So the ones we do catch, we end up throwing back, uninterested. Papa has brought it up recently. Why do we even play? The fantasy is so much better than the reality. Like He mentioned, I’ll be the one who most likely suffers more, not having pussy to eat. But the sex with Papa is so amazing…do I really need pussy? 

The couple we met most recently….I was incredibly disappointed. The pics they sent over weren’t bad at all. I thought she was really cute. He wasn’t bad, they seemed all rearing to go. She was certainly into playing with girls, having only had one experience before and eager for more. We made plans to meet…and went. When we got there, I was astounded. I thought he brought a different girl with him. This couldn’t possibly be the same one as in the pictures? The filter or the angle or a combination of both was extremely misleading. She was cute in her pics, in person….not so much. Like a lot not so much. As I said, she looked like a different person. I’m sure Papa is tired of hearing it….but I can’t get past it just yet. Then there was him. He was short. Like 5’3 short. Or shorter, not sure. He had little hands…Papa couldn’t get over the guy’s little hands. Reminded us both of Trump. But then he wore this gigantic watch that made his hands look even smaller. We chatted and the evening went ok. She started in about how she isn’t attracted to other men.  Women, yes. But not men. Well, sweetie….then why play with a couple? Where does that leave Papa? What’s the point of *gag* swapping husbands if you don’t find other men attractive? Or maybe you only like oompa loompa men?  As we were walking to the car, Papa let out, “vanilla, vanilla, vanilla, VANILLA!” And quickly got in. That’s our safe word, which we include in playing. In case I need to say no, without saying no. 

I’ve answered countless ads with few responses. I’ve sent out messages with nothing in return. How much longer do I keep going? Do I even have it in me to keep going? I think it’s time to start focusing my attention back on going back to school and the family. ::hanging up the fishing pole in the garage::

Some Catching Up To Do

This post is dedicated to a spunky spitfire in Kansas, who knows how to give me a swift kick in the ass when I haven’t been writing enough to keep her updated. 

Since November??  Really??  Has it been that long since I’ve written anything good? My god…I’m sorry! The last few months have been a bit of a blur and I have missed writing so here goes…let’s get you caught up, Miss Kansas…

My parents are here. They moved a week before Thanksgiving (which kind of explains the lack of blogging since November) and are living with us. I get along with them just fine, especially my mother. Neither of them are working, which means they’re around alot but they also keep themselves busy running around so most nights Papa and I have alone, which I’m thankful for. Weeks that we have the kids, there are nine of us in the house. That’s right, NINE. It’s crowded and noisy, sometimes overwhelming but generally ok. Thank goodness that Papa gets along with my parents pretty well, too. My mom has been a great help, doing laundry and helping to keep the house up. My dad piddles around, fixing little things here and there. The biggest topic of contention is his work. 

A few years ago, he got let go from a job where he had been at for 27 years. That’s a long time. We think it broke him, spiritually and mentally. But he won’t talk about it. My father is Latin and talking about their feelings isn’t macho. He was out of work for 11 months. Refused to look for work, refused to apply. He kept saying he’s been working since he was 14 and needed a break. I think it nearly destroyed my parents’ marriage. My mom was beyond stressed and depressed. Finally, her and I sat down and started putting in applications for him. He landed a job because of this. The tension was dramatically eased. Fast-forward to 2016, our family moves to Florida and shortly after my mom goes back home, dad loses this second job. Now they’re here. He has begun saying he will go back to work, but giving no time-line or putting in any applications. She’s back to begging me to put in applications for him, again, at her wits ends. Mom doesn’t know what to do with him. He doesn’t seem interested in working anymore but he’s too young to retire at 61. She has flown the coupe, finding an excuse that her cousin in Arizona needs her help. She figures this might kick him in the butt, giving him the ultimatum that she won’t come back home until he finds a place for them to live and a job. Mom cannot fathom living in her grandson’s bedroom for much longer. Since she’s left, he has been gone at my uncle’s helping them with repairs on their new house. I don’t know…her plan may have backfired. Only time will tell.

We have talked, the 3 of us. Mom knows that a time is coming when we have to have that talk. Dad isn’t making any effort to apply for jobs. He talks this big talk about meeting people and having dinner with them. But we’re in 2017 now, that isn’t how you get jobs. This isn’t Vegas 1989 where you walk into a casino, audition and the pit boss hires you right there. The’s applications, interviews, background checks…it’s a process. One would think my father would understand that a little more since having gone through it recently. Is he really that stuck in the past and refuses to see how things work now? Or is he afraid that he won’t get the work like he keeps thinking/saying he will? He’s a little bit like Red, communicating with him is nearly pointless. He doesn’t open up much, he doesn’t answer many questions and when you push him far enough, his temper blows and he will start in about everyone should leave him alone and stop stressing him out. Papa’s issue with it is my dad will sit on the patio, smoke a cigar and play games like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s like having a teenager in the house, just graduated high school with no plans on either working or going to further his education. There comes a time when it isn’t acceptable anymore. You must find a way to move forward in your life.