The Wal Mart Gourmet Has Left The Building

Actually, I've just moved to a new site.  I would love it more than I love wine if you would visit me there.


My new site is:


Tales From A Small Town


Hope to see you there!

I Don't Want To Write This, So I'm Writing This.

I didn't think I was going to write here again.  I have been hard at work on my new site (hoping it will be live next week, woo hoo!)  But I've been thinking every day about writing what I'm about to write. I really don't want to write it.  But I think I need to write it.  Especially after reading this post by the fab Ali Martell this morning, and what a brave thing her daughter did.  Go read it.  It's awesome.  I'll wait.

Okay, so now back to me.  Here's what I need to write.

It's about Rihanna.  And Chris Brown. Obviously.

If you know me at all, you know that I left an abusive marriage after fourteen years.  After being with him for a total of seventeen.  It took me that long to get out.  To be strong. To stand up for myself and my girls.  And I wish I could say why.  I wish I knew why I stayed so long.  But I don't.  I can speculate, and guess, and whatever.  But the bottom line is, I have no clue.

My girls know that their father is an alcoholic and has problems with drugs.  They do not know the rest.  We haven't talked about it.  I don't know if they need to know.

But we HAVE talked about the Chris Brown/Rihanna situation.  We've deleted all his songs from our iPods and phones.  We didn't watch the Grammys.  We change the station if his song comes on.  We talk about what he did.  And of course both girls ask the question, WHY DID SHE GO BACK TO HIM?  IS SHE CRAZY?

And my answer?  I don't know.

It's not a good one, I know that.  But I don't have another one for them.  I just say.....I can't answer that for her.  Only she knows why she's back with him.

But you know what?  She may not know.

She got away from him once.  So did I.  Well, not Chris Brown, that other asshole I was married to. After two years of dating, I left my ex after he put bruises over half my body.  We lived together. I moved out.  I LEFT TOWN.  I started over.

About four months later, he followed me.  Apologized.  We were getting along.  HE FOLLOWED ME.  I felt so loved.  Wanted.  Needed.  We were married a year later.

It never got better.  Never.  It ended with a separated shoulder.  And I got off easy, compared to some.

I know why I left.  I left for my girls.  I wanted better for them.  I still want better for them.  I wanted to show them I was strong.  I was.  I am.

But to this day, I can't tell you why I went back to him that first time.  Why I stayed as long as I did after.  Why I married him.

My only answer?  I don't know.

Maybe Rihanna doesn't either.

#FineChinaFriday

Last week, my good friend and sister bitch Jana had this awesome idea that she emailed me about.  Now, since I love Jana, and I happened to LOVE her idea, I was all, "of COURSE I am on board!"  Then I remembered that I am a terrible blogger as of late, and honestly have not been that much better at social media, and that my participation would in no way help with her awesome idea.


But, since being mediocre never stopped me before, I'm all in.


So without further ado, I present to you.......







Fine China Friday!  


It's exactly what it sounds like, on Friday, you will break out your china and crystal and sterling (if you have it) and use it.  For pizza!  And beer!  

side note:  My girl Jana made that picture with her stuff.  So I'm sure you can see now why we're kindred.  Pepperoni pizza and the champagne of beers.  Hells. Yeah.

When Jana first sent the email, it was the strangest timing. I had been dusting that day (that's the first strange thing), and was gazing in my china cabinet while dusting it.  I was thinking..... "I have never used this stuff.  Not once."  What I have is not wedding gifts.  God no. We registered for everyday dishes, and they are now in a box in my garage.  Waiting for my ex to take them, or for them to be sold in a garage sale or something.  I'm not bringing that bad dish juju into my house.  I have really nice china and crystal that I inherited from my grandparents. And it sits in their china cabinet.  Just sits there.  I'm ready to change that.  


So this Friday, along with the #FineChinaFriday army we're building, I'll be eating on my china.  And drinking from my crystal.  Although it won't be beer, or wine dammit, because I'm on dance pick up duty on Friday night.  Damn kids.  I may have to do #FineChinaSaturday this week as well.  So I can drink wine and eat pizza while I watch Breaking Dawn Part I.  Vampires appreciate fine things.


I would love for you to join in.  If you have a blog, write about it.  (Get the button here)  Or, just use your stuff and take a picture of it.  Post it to Pinterest, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, wherever.  And use the hashtag #FineChinaFriday.


My girl Jana answers many more questions on her post. So, you should go read it.  Plus, she has pretty pictures.  


And that's it.  


Break out the good stuff and be fancy with me!

The Message In The Clouds

Oh, iCloud, I have a weird relationship with you.  I love that you back up the data on my phone and store it in your lovely, pillowy cloud.  But since all three members of this household share an iTunes account, I don't love that every once in a while I'll have random shit like "The Love Test"  show up on my phone.  Or many, many Justin Bieber songs.  

But sometimes I wonder.  Are you trying to send me a message iCloud?  

Like the other day, when Teenagers by My Chemical Romance showed up on my phone magically?  Are you trying to tell me something?  Is my (almost in two months, HOLY CRAP) teenager trying to tell me something?  

Yes, I know (now) this song has been around for a few years.  Yes, I know it has some bad language.  I don't censor music in our house.  

Side note:  I've started to wonder recently if I'm too lenient on my kids as in what they listen to, what they watch, etc, etc.  After both girls having friends over this weekend, I realized I am NOT.  In fact, I think I must be somewhere in the middle.  And the middle is a good place to be.

Anyhoo, I listened to the song.  And besides the fact that I LOVE IT,  I definitely think there's a lesson here.  

I hear ya, My Chemical Romance.  Teenagers scare the living shit out of me too.  

Glad I have a couple more months until I'm the mother of one.  Two months y'all, TWO MONTHS.

Stop reminding me iCloud.  

When The Butterfly Is Not So Social

I am feeling quiet.  Which is kind of weird for me.  I'm never quiet.  Like, ever. 

But right now, I am.

I'm not sure why, other than the fact that I think all that is going on in my life has finally taken it's toll to the point where I have nothing else to say about it.  I'm okay.  My kids are okay.  Everyone is healthy.  

I'm just tired of complaining.  Sick of hearing myself complain.  And when I sit down to write something for my blog, I feel the word vomit rising up in my throat.  And spilling out with the negativity.  And when I log on to The Twitter or even The Facebook for that matter, I am tempted.  Tempted by hearing people say,  "Oh, my job sucks."  To which *I* would say, "You think your job sucks?  Do you have an hour or ten for me to tell you about mine?"   Or someone else may say, "I'm so sick of my ex, he only gets my kids every other week."  To which *I* would say, "Do you have a week?  Or maybe a year?  Let me tell you all the ways in which MY ex sucks."  

And I'm tired of that.   Sick of it, if you will.

I'm writing a lot for school and it feels good.  It feels good to write things that I'm proud of, that I have no emotional attachment to, other than the fact that it was written by me.  At first, I hated the structure of writing for school.  The rules.  The constraints.  But now, I think I need it. 

I'm working on a new site.  I want to continue working on it.  I'm hoping to have it up in a few weeks.  I'm not sure if I'll write here again.  I might.  I just don't know yet.

But I think for the next little while, I need to enjoy my family.  And reading.  And mindless television.  The things that make me happy.  And stay away from the complaints.  The chatter.  The noise.

If you know me at all, this won't last long.  I'll be chomping at the bit to yap someone's ear off by the weekend.  Or maybe I won't.  Who knows.  

But for now, I think I'll enjoy the silence a bit longer.  

Things I Love

One morning last week was no different than any other school day morning in our house.  One child didn't like the choice of clothes in her closet.  She didn't like what her hair was doing, yet didn't want a ponytail.  The other one, "Oh my gah I fell in gym yesterday and now I am so hurt I don't think I can go to school.  And if I do have to go to school can you please write me a note to where I can sit out in gym?"  Complete with a limp.


We were rushing, there was yelling, as per the usual.  But after I got home from dropping the little hellions at their respective schools, I walked around my house and remembered some of the little reason why I think these particular hellions are so cool.


Over the Christmas break we cleaned out the armoire in M's room so that she can have a "make-up station."  She spent all day cutting these words out of magazines to make this.

Pretty awesome.  Then, this morning I noticed that she still tucks in her American Girl doll and Bitty Baby every night.

I die.


Now, we all know that Miss V loves her American Girl dolls.  More. Than. Anything.  In fact, she hopped out of bed this morning because today may be *the day* her new doll, that she bought with her birthday money comes.  


She made them beds. 

Since this picture, Bitty Baby has moved to her own bed across the room and Kanani took her place in the top bunk.  I'm not sure where the new girl is gonna go.  I'm sure some bed building will be going on this week.


For Christmas, she got these little mini dolls.  They had nowhere to live.  So, what do you do?  Build a house out of boxes, of course!

V loves her boxes.  I think they have furniture, but I don't know where it was at the time.  


Then I walked around to the back of the box and was reminded why V makes me laugh daily, without really meaning to.

Yes V, diseased animals ARE fragile!  Also? I hope they are not loose in my house.


I need to read this post when my blood pressure starts to spike.  


I've got some pretty awesome girls.

Five Reasons I Like Being a Single Parent

I had a bad single parent day yesterday.  When you're a single parent, they happen often.  Miss V is starting to react to all the shit that went down at Christmas and it's starting to show in her school work.  Not cool.  She is usually super careful about her school work.  Because she's competitive.  And likes to beat everyone else.  Hey, whatever lands you on the A Honor Roll.  But I have had to sign three failing grades since she went back to school.  And I mean FAILING.  Yesterday, I just wish I had someone else to back me up on what needed to be done.  Or, for one second I could be the parent that says, "It's going to be okay."  Not the one who has to say, "You are grounded from the computer, until I see your report card and then we'll decide what happens."  I'm tired of being the bad guy.  All. The. Time.


But, that's the way my cards were dealt.  And in the spirit of being positive, I challenged myself to find the good in being a single parent.  At first, I was going to to a "Top Ten Reasons"  and then I was all, "Hey you, slow your roll a little."  Baby steps.


Here we go:


One. I don't have to ask anyone before I make decisions.  Since my ex is an alcoholic loser not involved at all, I have no one else I have to confer with.  On anything.  Kid wants to go to D.C. with school?  Sure.  Kid wants to date at fourteen.  Hell no.  It's all me.  


Two.  We all like the same things.  Someone out there knew what they were doing when I was given two girls.  Not gonna lie, I was bummed I didn't have a boy.  But I knew I only wanted two kids.  So, two girls it was.  And now?  Couldn't be happier.  Even though the three of us are different in lots of ways, we are all basically the same.  We rarely disagree on movies, television, games to play.  


Three.  I decide the punishments.  So this is sort of like number one, but this is getting kind of hard, honestly.  But there's never any, "let's wait until your dad gets home and we'll talk."  When I used to have to do that, I had generally cooled before I actually talked to their father.  I think my punishments are better now.  Because I make them immediately.


Four.  No sports on television.  Now occasionally, I'll watch sports with the BF.  Because I like him, and don't mind it. Back when I was married, if the asshole was home, sports were on.  I just read books because it was easier than fighting.  Or  went in the other room with the smaller t.v.  Now?  Big t.v., all mine.  Also, I've discovered I don't really like sports all that much.  I used to fancy myself as one of those girls who could "hang with the boys and watch sports."  I CAN still do that.  But it turns out, I just really liked the drinking.  I'd much rather watch Vampire Diaries.  


One.  No one to get mad at when they aren't "doing their share"  This is the best reason really.  And honestly, the only one I need.  

So that's it.  Five reasons I like being a single parent.  


And even the reasons that I hate?


Still totally worth it.