Thursday, March 31, 2011

Thirteen days, Four and a half hours...

...until I begin my first day of classes at BTI.

I'm a feeling a multitude of emotions. Excitement, a little scared and nervous, confidence... did I mention nervous???

I KNOW I can do this and I KNOW I can do it well. I'm doing this first and foremost for myself but I'm also doing it for my children. And lastly I'm doing so I can rub it in the faces of all of my naysayers when I graduate in two years with flying colors. That diploma will be a big ol' F**K YOU to all of the assholes who tried to talk me out of doing it and dared to tell me I wouldn't succeed.

The best revenge is to live life to the fullest
. And I plan on having my revenge and will enjoy every second of it. :)

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Everyone poops...

That’s the name of kids’ book. Really. Swear to God. It is. My fellow parents know what I’m talking about. It's a book geared towards potty training tots. (Obviously.)

Somehow a copy of this book took up residence in my house during one of the many potty training periods I’ve lived through. Likely bought by me in a vein attempt to come up with something, anything, to get my newest toddler to use the potty regularly. Six kids in a ten year period means I changed a LOT of diapers.

My Mother, while visiting her Grandchildren one fine Sunday afternoon (I have no idea if it was a Sunday or not I just thought that sounded good), spotted the book and immediately started to giggle. A child, I don’t recall which one at this point, upon seeing Nana with the book climbed up in her lap and demanded she read it to them.

What followed should have been recorded on video. Only I was too busy rolling on the floor, with tears streaming down my face in near hysteria listening to my Mother (who is VERY proper) try to read this book with a straight face.

Much like a small child my Mom’s reaction to anything that embarrasses her is to laugh. I don’t think she made it halfway into the book before she was rendered unable to speak due to uncontrollable, near shrieks, of laughter. At which point I had no choice but to the race to the bathroom because I had reached the “OMG I can‘t breath and I have to pee!!!” stage. Six pregnancies, six larger than average babies, and my bladder is not as strong as it used to be.

I have no idea what happened to our beloved copy of “Everyone Poops” but I think it should be required reading for all newly single divorcee’s. Oh yes she did just say that. See here’s the thing. I’ve been “out of the game” so says those in the know, for nearly twenty years. That’s almost half of my life. I was twenty-two the last time I was single.

I’ve grown up with my husband. I’ve also grown old with him. He knew me when… When I wasn’t toting around a few extra pounds. When I didn’t have stretch marks across my stomach that are so prominent you could map the route from here to Tennessee with them. When I didn't have to rely on $10 bottles of hair color to hide the telltale gray. He knew me when I was young, idealistic and had my entire life ahead of me.

My journey from that to washed up, exhausted, shell shocked single Mom of six has left it’s toll on my body and my psyche. I’m not sure I have the energy or the stamina to explore the terrain of dating after forty. So.. What was the point I was trying to make?? Oh yeah.. Everyone Poops. Why it should be required reading for all newly single (or hell still single) forty-something year olds.

Because… everyone ages. Everyone has flaws. Everyone has fears and dreams. Everyone has something about them that they’d much rather no one else knew about. In other words.. everyone poops. So maybe, the key to successfully maneuvering through the wild world of dating is to simply see everyone with clear eyes and have no well defined expectations save for the “deal breakers”. Ya’ know cleanliness, courteousness, the ability to spell basic words and maybe even some big words in addition to the sense to know how to use them properly in a sentence. (Poor spelling and grammar <~~~~~~~~~~~~ HUGE pet peeves of mine)

And maybe I’m kidding myself.. Or suffering from lack of sleep… Maybe I'll just join a convent..