I went to the doctor today about my broken finger (don’t ask). While there we got to talking about how my iron is low AGAIN. Then I casually mentioned I had quit eating gluten. The doctor said that was good. Then I mentioned that I cut down my dairy intake a lot. This made her ears perk up. Knowing that I’m a vegetarian and now I’ve cut down dairy she was worried. I thought that would be a perfect time to tell her I quit eggs too. And coffee.

Now I was in trouble.

She started raving about B12 and iron and holy shit why did I open my mouth? I have been losing feeling in my hands for months now and had paid a shit ton of money to see an orthopedic doctor. My physician today informed me that the lack of B12 is what was causing that. She started writing up a prescription for iron and asked why I quit eating eggs. I had to tell her the truth.

It was Google’s fault.

I told her about Googling to find out when my chickens would lay eggs and how I then saw a picture of a chicken uterus and then my whole entire head exploded and I haven’t ingested an egg in any form since (chocolate cake I miss you). She was really laughing at me then.

But it got worse.

Because then the nurse walked in with a B12 shot. But the liquid was red. Natural the first thing I said was,

“Wait, you want to inject beetles in my butt?”

That stopped the whole office. Of course I had to explain to them how I found out that often red dye is made up of crushed beetles and that being a vegetarian and A SANE HUMAN BEAN I didn’t like eating beetles which meant I haven’t had anything red from Starbucks or Snapple in a year or so. They started laughing so hard. They couldn’t believe that I was really asking if my vitamin shot had beetles in it.

Here I just told them Google ruined me on eggs, and I had already told her about my visual freak out with hot dogs and burgers, and how I had sweet little baby chickens and because of that I could never eat a chicken again because they are my friends and then I just had to pop off and open my mouth about the beetles.

They didn’t know what to do. It’s not like the shot came with an ingredients list. They were torn between laughing really hard at me and worrying that they were going to inject a vegetarian with meat. In the end I said I would suck it up and take the beetles this one time….they were still giggling when I walked out.

I will never learn will I?

A couple weeks ago I decided to give up gluten, dairy and coffee in an effort to cleanse my body of toxins. It’s funny that this story comes from me attempting to rid myself of toxic things. I stumbled upon almond milk and got the idea one morning to mix chocolate almond milk with soy peanut butter (my son is allergic to peanuts so I can’t use the real thing). I blended it with ice for breakfast and took the first drink. I was instantly transported back in time. I was nine years old in the kitchen with my biological dad getting a life lesson on how to make a chocolate peanut butter milk shake.

Vanilla ice cream

Chocolate syrup

Peanut butter

Milk

Blend

I remember him telling me that it had to be vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup ONLY, that chocolate ice cream was unacceptable for this.

I stood there in my kitchen happy as I was recalling this memory.

But like always I began to over think it. I started wondering exactly how many positive memories I had of him. I mean, I have millions of good memories of my (step)Dad, and millions of my mom, but of my biological dad, aside from the ice cream I could only come up with two other happy memories and one of them was tainted by what he did right after it.

The second happy memory was sitting at Pyramid Lake eating those wax soda pop candies with him. You bit the top off and squirted the sugary syrup into your mouth, and then on the last one sometimes we would chew the whole thing up to get all of the flavor out.

The third memory was laying in my grandma’s living room with him coloring. He had bought this giant coloring book of vintage ladies in dresses and brought colored pencils and we sat there coloring for what felt like hours.

This is where the happiness of that morning fades.

Because what I actually remember of that day is not coloring pictures with my biological dad, it is what happened next. While coloring he said he needed a break so we went out on the patio. He then proceeded to cut a line of cocaine (crank? Too young to know the difference) and snort it right in front of me. This actually happened a few times through the day. The last time though I wanted to play too. My grandma had this old weird foam mattress outside on her deck. For some reason if you ran your nails down the mattress powdery residue would flake off. So I collected the residue on a little table, found a small piece of cardboard and scraped it all around the table like I had watched him do, then ran into the house to find my own “straw.” I ended up rolling up a small piece of paper and rushing back out to the patio to attempt to suck the dust up my nose. My dad had brought the phone out onto the patio (no cell phones or cordless phones back then) so he wasn’t really watching me.

Luckily I didn’t entire grasp the whole concept and the paper in my nose made me sneeze and all my powder flew everywhere and then I ended up coughing and choking on what I had sucked up. He was so wrapped up in his phone call that he didn’t even flinch at what I was doing.

For years after I would repeat this little procedure. I would grind up Smartie’s candies into a powder and pretend to cut it up and make perfect little lines. I did it with chalk and other things too. I had no idea what I was doing was wrong. In middle school I crushed up the candies on my desk once and a friend looked over to see it. She immediately freaked out thinking I had actual drugs on me. I was kind of baffled. Being more worldly then me she explained exactly what I was doing and I got pretty upset.

I had always known Rick (bio dad) was on drugs, I guess I just hadn’t realized he was doing them right in my face like that. Or maybe I did, but I chose not to entirely accept that. Either way, the memory of that day became forever tainted. I was pissed off. It would be 5 more years before I would drive to the coroner’s office and get his death certificate and find out just how much drugs were in his system when he died. Let me tell you, that day REALLY RUINED my happy memory.

I realize now as a mom that he didn’t pay very good attention to the memories he was making. That it never occurred to him that snorting drugs in front of me would for sure cancel out every good part of that day.

Similarly to the day he got all coked out and we walked to the park with his dog Peetie. I was having such a great time playing fetch with the dog and playing at the park. Until the dog didn’t fetch the ball right and my dad in a drugged out rage hit the dog with the bat.

For my entire life when I think of Rick the first thing that comes into my head (after his death of course) is him hitting that dog. Not milkshakes, not coloring, not driving my go cart into a window the one time I actually got to drive it, nope. The first thing I think of is him hitting that dog.

It’s a shitty memory.

I hate that memory.

That morning standing in my kitchen by the time I had come full circle of the memories and once again my day was ruined by him. It took over a week to get all of that back out of my system. Here I was trying to purge myself of toxins and I turned right around and filled my head with them. I hate that. I get so angry at that his lifestyle choices still affect me 18 years after his death. I am thirty years old I shouldn’t care about all of this. But I guess the memory, the crazy, the obsessive thinking is part of the legacy he handed down to me.

The milkshake hasn’t tasted as good since that first sip. It’s tasted a little bitter each time I’ve made it since. I wonder if he ever stopped to think about the memories he was making for me.

I doubt it.

For those of you with kids do you think before acting? Are you conscious of the memories you are making? I know I am now.

Now if only I could clean out my own head…and purge my own memories. Does anyone know of a cleanse that works for shitty fathers? If so I’d love to hear it.

If you wouldn't mind, click over to my food blog and help me out.  I'm stuck on a recipe and NEED HELP.

HELP

ME

PLEASE

Click here to save my soul

Sitting here waiting for my son to come out of school so I have some free time. I’ve been thinking of this for a while now an I’ve concluded that I have exactly one real true thing that I would put on a bucket list. To learn to play the guitar. Real guitar. Country guitar. Real country, not the pop shit on the radio now. Guitar like Hank, or Willie, or Waylon. That is it. To have my own guitar and learn to play.
Maybe I should think of more stuff for my bucket list eh? What about you? What is on your bucket list?

You all know I gave in on the booster seat.  And I gave in on the light up shoes (but only Star Wars ones and only the ones with out the lame plastic looking stickers on the side). I haven't given in on the door locks YET.  But there is on thing I flat out refuse to give in on.

Dear blog friends of mine, I cannot, CANNOT, send my son to school without matching shoes.  His shoes must match his shirt, or his little jacket or something.  I can't let him wear a green shirt with red Star Wars shoes.  I can't let him wear all black with brown shoes.  I can't let him wear a green shirt without his green Converse.  I CAN'T DO IT.  I don't' care if they are only in preschool or first grade and that no one of importance sees them, BUT I SEE THEM.  My husband always says Codi's only in preschool just send him in anything. 

MY BRAIN DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY.

I walk into preschool and see kids with brown pants and a purple polka dotted shirt and yellow light up ugly shoes and a neon orange head band my whole brain implodes.  How did they do that?  My brain can't wrap around non matching things.

Do you remember Rosie from the Jetsons?  She went berserk one day and started cleaning everything saying, "There is a place for everything and everything has a place." Well in my head it is, "There is a shoe for everything and everything has a shoe."  Maybe it's because I have boys and their shoes are just about the only accessory I have but for whatever reason I can't handle sending my kids to school in outfits that don't match.

 I may have given in on the car seat…but on the shoes NEVER!

Don't be fooled by his cuteness though, he totally chewed up every tissue in the trash every morning this week destroying the bathroom right before work.

But don't worry I took him to the park and made him run a mile then walk a mile and now he's doing this.  It might last a whole 15 minutes but I'll take it.

I'm getting colonics tomorrow…Please submit horror stories now.

 

Just how bad is it gonna be?

Some of you may be familiar with my posts about Jack. If not here is the link to the post that describes my feelings about Jack and another one here.

Tonight was one of the first times that I've truly tested my theory of Jack.  You see as I mentioned before I have trust issues.  So you can imagine my…what's the word…utter despair?? Today when I found out I was being lied to.  By family.  Not even that, but using Jacks theory I argued for this persons honor.  I argued that they weren't gambling again, that they weren't lying to their family again, I FOUGHT FOR THEM.  In fact it wasn't until I drove to the casino and had the cashier tell me to my face that yes this person was DOING IT AGAIN that I believed it.  I was heart broken.  My kids came to mind, my family, my own selfish anger at being let down again but mostly I feared for my dad.  Because I knew that as much as he would never admit it he was the one getting hurt the most out of all of this.

I came home and told my husband point blank that this person was never to see my kids again.  I got angry.  My husband tried talking to me.  He tried telling me that we had to forgive this person, stand by them, be there for them. I got more upset.  I started crying and asked him how many more times he would want his wife let down.  I asked him if he would be fine when it was a few years down the road and it was his kids crying in front of him because of this person.  I asked him if he liked seeing me sit there crying?  I was pissed.  How many more times in my life is this going to happen. My husband said simply, "maybe this time if we all stand by him and watch let him know we won't give up the outcome will be different this time."

I walked out of the house in a huff.

I went over and started talking to the person and while doing that I saw the bracelet on my hand.  WWJD

WHAT WOULD JACK DO?

I then remembered his sons words at his fathers funeral, "my dad didn't do things for other people for a thank you or a payback, he did them to know he did the right thing and he helped someone out.  He only ever did what he thought Jesus would have done."  Suddenly I changed my tune.  I realized that walking away from this person was nothing but selfish on my part.  I realized that jack would have stood by his family, Jack would have never just walked away, he would have pulled everyone together and supported his family.  

I talked to my family member and told him that as of now I was going to do that.  My family (husband, kids) were going to support him.  I saw him suddenly open up a little, I saw him recognize what had happened.  I don't know what the out come will be but I do know that I will sleep better tonight knowing that I didn't just run away.  I will feel better knowing that this wont' be a repeat of when my grandpa died and I didn't forgive myself for months that I had stopped speaking to him for 2 years over something little.

Tonight I feel like I made a grown up decision.  I made a decision I can live with.  I did what Jack would do.  I stood beside my family.  I supported someone.  I made a good choice.  And if he burns me again I don't know what I will do…but if he DOESN'T I will be so proud of myself knowing that I was part of this. That I helped him past this bump in the road, that I helped his recovery.  I think at this point I would rather know that I was part of the solution then spending the next ten years wondering if I was part of the problem.  You guys know how I over analyze things.  You all know how my brain never shuts down.  You know that if I had walked away and he regressed that I would have beat myself up over it for years.

So, here is hoping Jack is right.  Here's hoping I made the right choice tonight.  Here is hoping that having a little faith in Jack, Jesus and my husband will get me somewhere.  

Thank God for tiny little blue bracelets to remind me of what is really important in life.

Thing one: When will I learn to wait 45 seconds to take a drink of my tea after I take it out of the microwave?  How many times did I burn my mouth yesterday? EVERY TIME I USED THE MICROWAVE TO REHEAT MY TEA.

Thing the second: I'm giving up gluten, coffee, dairy and most sugar.  I'm keeping the honey.  So last night when I baked these I was in hell.  I didn't take a single bite of them.  

And this morning when I woke up to see them again, with the glaze all dry and crispy and I knew how delicious they were I was even more grumpy.  Why does everything good in the world have gluten & eggs?

Numero trés:  I love raising chickens.  It is so much fun.  They are so cute and loving.  I love how the little dorks sleep out in the rain, the snow and the wind.  They don't even care what the temperature is they are just going to sleep on their little perch.

 I love collecting the eggs and I love watching them take dirt baths.  I promise, this is how chickens get clean.

#4 This is what I do at my second job.  Every thing on this plate contains eggs, gluten and dairy.  Do you know what it is like to do this all day and never take a single bite.  But look how pretty my work is.

5: I have had at least 3 kids at my office every day last week.  They were driving me crazy.  Finally  my dad stepped in to give me a hand.  Finally some peace and quiet!

And the best part is Brandon and his friend thought it was hilarious!

Number 6: The winner:

You guys reading your stories was HILARIOUS.  I loved it.  I wanted to pick based on who had the worst story but they were all pretty bad so I did a random number generator and the winner is #4

Rachael said… 

I sure hope you are doing a random drawing, because if you are actually judging on the mortification factor, I think Kim wins hands down. I don't really have any except for the other day I got home from being out and my mom had been babysitting my kids, she is super nice and always picks up the toys at the end of the night… at some point after she'd left I noticed a toy on top of the cable box in the living room… I have no idea if she found it and put it there, or if the baby had found it and brought it out… I will never know because it's not like I'm going to ask. So, yeah…

 

So Rachael please email me with your address so I can mail you your prize!

 

And as a runner up, since I got two of them Kim you are also winning a double bullet for this entry because OMG.  Please email me your address.

Kim Mueller said… 

My son was 6 at the time and when I placed my one and only toy order they sent me two of the smaller vibrators with a changeable tip. Although this one doesn't look like one at all so used the extra one as a massager on my head when I got a migraine. Promise. Well, it was under a pillow from when I had a migraine the night before and I had no idea Little Man grabbed it and took it in the car on the way to walmart. I heard this noise coming from the back seat and some giggling and immediately knew what he had. So I asked for it back and he said, "But mom, it makes my penis hard." I was mortified and asked for it back again and he said, "Mom it feels SO GOOD!" OMG. So I threw it in my purse and did my shopping in walmart…ever so careful not to accidentally pull that out of my purse. OOOOOPS. Is it not super funny that my first captcha was HOR!!! BWAHAHAHAH. Just missing the W and the E.

 

And because I felt so bad for Jenna S I am awarding you a $5.00 Starbucks gift card.  Please email me your mailing address. Or if you have an iPhone I can email you the code to input into the Starbucks ap and you can use that to purchase coffee.  Here is her entry

 

Jenna S. said…  Okay, I am going to leave two comments, not so much because I want 2 entries, but because I am not so sure if the first counts… I was lounging at my folk's house one day and Ma asked if I would help her clean her bedroom. I figured what the heck she's getting older and it would be nice of me. We were almost finished with the room when she says "I have some things you can have if you want them" and heads for her dresser. I'm thinking clothes she doesn't want or that don't fit. She starts out by pulling some naughty undies and such out saying that they are new she was never brave enough to wear them. I mean they were naughty enough I was wondering if I was even brave enough, lol. Then she proceeds to pull out some plastic bags. I think there was like 3, but I can't remember so well. She looks into the first and says "not this one". From the second she pulls out a dual pleasure dildo…at this point I panic. She hands it over to me and says I never opened it. At this point I am done…I just walk away pretending that nothing has changed, but knowing I am dying on the inside. Now let me tell you about my mom so you understand just how astonished I was. She was like 50 when this happened. We've never discussed or bordered any naughty subjects…I am one of those adults that for some odd reason think that their parents didn't have sex to create them, so yeah.

 

All day long all I wanted to do was mop the floor.  I went to my office and got the mop bucket and then remembered that it was broken.  The handle where you drain the water was having problems.  But never fear 

SUPER HUSBAND TO THE RESCUE

He got this brilliant idea to drill holes in the mop bucket and bolt down the handle.  It totally worked.

Up until I put water in the bucket.

Because you know…WATER COMES OUT OF HOLES.

So here I am filling up my bucket and I look down to see my kitchen carpet soaked and a trail of water across the kitchen.  

He says, "oops, it seemed like a good idea at the time."

So now, in order to finish mopping my house we have to adventure to Home Depot tonight so I can finish mopping my house.

HE DRILLED HOLES IN MY MOP BUCKET!!!!!!

I'm shaking my head so bad right now.

He's laughing.