Ok, so I tried to play it cool. Girls aren’t supposed to call boys. That’s what my parents said when I was 11 and I had a crush on the boy around the block. I was supposed to wait for his call, and I did, and he kissed me, so it stuck! When I give my friends advice, I always say “make him come to you.” So why was I sitting around for nearly 8 days, completely devastated, wondering what did I do?
So the hubby has always had a girl following. He’s cute, he’s funny, he’s hyper, he’s outgoing. The girls love him. They Facebook him. They text him, They call him. They need their cars fixed and their kids chased and I think truly they just want to laugh, and he’s a big goober, so he makes them laugh. I am not bothered by that. My years of being the jealous type ended long ago. Hell, I’m the one with an arsenal of boy toys- the Cable Guy, the Pawn Star, the Coach, the Boyfriend, the Professor… so what kind of hypocrite would I be if I had a cow every time he said “hey sexy lady”?
So the Pawn Star guy had that surgery to lose his extra pounds and for some reason he thinks that gives him permission to get touchy feely. Um, hello, just because I got a sexy new bra and the girls are quite perky today doesn’t mean you can cop a feel. You can cop a stare, but keep your hands to yourself. Unless of course you’re Channing Tatum, then by all means, dive right in!
I used to be amused by my Pawn Star’s blatant flirting, but he really needs to get a grip because he’s gotten on my very last nerve recently. I caught him FB stalking my teenager daughter. I mean he is commenting half her posts and the other day he actually had the nerve to tell me how sexy she is. I’m not gonna lie, I have one helluva beautiful daughter, but a man as old as her father has no right commenting on it. It would be different had he said “your daughter is a beautiful young lady”, but no, he said “send her over here and I’ll show her the ropes”. So, in true “Mama Bear” fashion, I offered to stab him in the nuts with a screwdriver if he ever thought of her again.He chuckled, but I can’t wait to visit him in ten more years. I’m sure he’ll still be managing that same ole pawn shop when his daughters become teenagers, and even though they share his genes, I pray they turn out gorgeous just so he can fully understand the line he crossed.
I’m not having fun being the town flirt anymore. And I’m not having fun sitting at home with my husband either. My teenage son wears this T’shirt from vacation that says “YOLO”, well if that’s the motto these days, I have certainly lost a few opportunities.
Is it too late to go back and live my life over? I think everyone should spend a week or two as the party girl slut just for the memories. I’ve been the settled down sweetheart all my life, and now I’m bored out of my head. And angry too. I can’t seem to forgot how many nights my husband left me home alone and didn’t take part in raising this family. Recently I was very ill and all I could think was “I’ve wasted so much time not being me…”
This morning he said “let me hold you, I miss you.” I said “I used to miss you too, but I’m over it, you should get over it too….”
So much for an epic love story. I don’t know if there are any chapters left to write….
I must say I was a little embarrassed today when I made 2 confessions to my BFF. First, I have never given up anything for LENT. Not ever. I’m not particularly religious but I was raised in a Christian southern home where Bible thumping was mandated from time to time. But I don’t recall any of us ever having to choose something to give up. To be honest, I don’t think you should do it if you’re not gonna go all out and make a real sacrifice.
Why say “I’m giving up cake” when you don’t even have cake all that often? That’s not hard to do. Now if you eat cake twice a day, I could see that as a sacrifice, but I think a lot of people pick something simple to give up and take the easy way out. That way, they can pretend they participated. I was pretty impressed by my friend. She has chosen to pray for people she doesn’t like for the next 40 days. Now that’s a challenge!
If I had to take that one on I’d have to start with my husband’s ex-wife. Now that I’ve done all the work of raising our daughter, she wants to come around and act as if I haven’t done the job right. Where was she 10 years ago when there was work to do? It has taken all my patience to keep from running over her with my car. I wonder if I could give up the ex-wife for Lent? I could use 40 days without her!
Maybe I could just give up the husband for 40 days! Now that would be interesting. Of course, instead of remembering the things Jesus gave up for me I might find myself getting into the kind of trouble that would land me in a confessional saying “Hail Mary’s” and begging the Priest to forgive me and I’m not even Catholic. I just have such a dirty mind I can’t seem to keep myself out of trouble. Continue reading
I don’t really know how to be a bad girl. The “boyfriend” says I shouldn’t live my life without being bad at least once, but that cracked me up considering the fact that seeing me had his hands shaking like a vibrator. I’m not gonna lie, I have wondered a thousand times if I shouldn’t just throw morals out the window to make room for my fantasies instead.
Despite his many years of being a bad boy, I guess he grew up to be a class act. He’s seen me twice in recent months and both times he kept his pants on. He didn’t even try to kiss me. I thought for sure he’d try to kiss me, but he has all these morals, and I guess he couldn’t bring himself to kiss me, because, as he put it, I belong to someone else. But he did buy me a case of beer! Continue reading
So I haven’t blogged much the past few weeks. It’s been busy around here. Busy falling in love! With, of all people, MY HUSBAND!
My teenage daughter finally ditched her loser boyfriend. This boy has kept me up late at night for weeks at a time wondering when he is going to disappear. I just couldn’t stand watching my gorgeous daughter settle for this total douche bag, and no, I’m not exaggerating.
This guy doesn’t have a car, he always rides in hers. Okay, fine, not every kid can get a car. But has he ever once paid for the gas in that car? Then a few months ago my overachiever who happens to be the busiest girl I’ve ever seen decided she needed a job too. On top of school and the hundred other things she was involved in she started waiting tables. I couldn’t understand her need for more money. We pay her for taking her little brother to school, and we pay her to clean house- not a fortune, but enough for a kid her age to have pocket-money all week. Then I figured it out. The only time the douche was calling her is when he was hungry. So off she’d go to take him to McDonalds or Taco Bell and he couldn’t even come watch a movie with her. Continue reading
So I think it’s time to up the ante on my need for sexy attention. I think it’s time to lay a challenge before myself. So I lost 80 pounds, so what. I think I found 10 of them on Thanksgiving, but I’m not done with the transformation of this girl just yet. I think it’s time to take this game to the next level.
Monday I’m starting a new challenge called “Couch to 5K”. My best friend had to go and tell me about it. She wasn’t really fat, but I guess she was what some would call a chunky monkey and last year she walked it off until she turned herself into a hot mama. She even goes jogging these days so now she’s all “you can do it” and she’s the poster girl for “no pain, no gain…” Truthfully I’d rather a magic pill or a genie to grant me the wish of a Playboy bunny body, but let’s get real, I’m not gonna make it to Barbie size and nobody’s gonna pop out of a bottle and turn me into the Supermodel that dwells within so I’m gonna get back in the saddle and take this horse for one more ride. Continue reading
“Charming, Chiseled, Channing Tatum: SEXIEST MAN ALIVE!” It didn’t take me 3 seconds to pull that one off the rack and toss it in my basket at Wal-Mart last week. I’m not gonna lie, the naughty side of me was hoping there’d be a sealed section, a rated R kind of page, because I knew long before Magic Mike came along that Channing Tatum is everything I’d like wrapped around the stripper pole in my bedroom! We might as well rename People Magazine “Mommy Porn” this week. There is some inspiration inside those pages folks!
It’s a pretty big deal that I’d even buy the magazine at all, considering my disgruntled view of Cosmo has turned me into one of those people who thumbs through at the check-out, then puts it back on the rack. Totally not my fault, I was a loyal buyer until it dawned on me that these magazines are regurgitating the same things week after week, slapping a new picture between endless advertisements and calling it the latest and greatest.
I thought surely that would change when I put Cosmo on blast. I was fully expecting them to call me up and say “hey we read your blog and we’re ready for you to help us!” I would have too! I wasn’t ready to turn my back on the very pages that taught me how to give the perfect blow-job and entertain a crowd at the same time. Continue reading
Dear Man of mine,
It has come to my attention that you are in need of a little advice. Apparently, you don’t understand the art of pacing yourself. I can see clearly why you ended up burnt out. You started too soon and did too much. At fourteen you were too old for Little League but you spent all your time trying to get on first base anyway. You begged, pleaded, and offered up teddy bears holding stuffed hearts for the chance to actually touch a little cleavage. Meanwhile, my daddy was telling me to steer clear of first base, to stay off the field all together, so you really had to work for it back then.
Then sixteen came along and we got cars, and you spent all your energy trying to get me in the back seat. You got a job after school bagging groceries and loading feed into pick-up trucks just so you could afford dinner, a movie, and since I was so boobaliscious I even got little gifts from the mall like the little silver necklace dangling a heart I wore for so long thinking it meant you loved me. Don’t worry, I don’t expect an apology. I know now that it wasn’t really love, you just wanted to bury your face between the twin peaks. It’s okay, I can appreciate your admiration for the girls. I’m not saying you were wrong to love them, I’m just saying you spent way too much time and energy trying to see them. You should have relaxed a little bit, enjoyed our time together more. Continue reading
So after a weekend of my husband being out-of-town, he came home to a disaster area. I know he was pissed, but dang, he left me home alone with all the kids again. And two of them were throwing up in the middle of the night. I can handle broken bones, bloody foreheads, stinky dirty boys, but I just don’t do vomit. I changed 99.6% of the diapers, I have done every single parent-teacher conference, and I have handled every single “I don’t wanna do my homework” tantrum, so don’t look down on me when I need reinforcements every time somebody throws up.
You know, I get it that it’s not always easy living in a house full of kids. I’m probably not always sexy when I’m folding socks for the umpteenth time. But I miss the way he used to rush home to me. I miss the way he used to leave me little notes, yeah, those days before cell phones, when car phones were still those big crazy things in a leather bag that we could never afford.
I remember once he was on the night shift and I was on the day shift and “Jerry McGuire” came out on video, and before he went to bed for the day, he rushed to the video store to be the first one to rent it, and when he left for work, he left me a note that he had been thinking of me. This boy had me at hello, so things like that were always a bonus.
But like I always say, our life has always been a roller coaster. We fell in love at first sight, moved in together within a week, and then a few months later I found out he wasn’t quite divorced. Of course, his marriage was truly over, the divorce was filed for, but I thought he was divorced, so imagine my surprise when one morning he didn’t leave for work because he had court that day. That’s the moment that I realized why people kept calling me a rebound. Of course, I was right, I wasn’t a rebound, but he could have prepared me a little bit with a simple “hey, I’m not really divorced just yet…”
So the boyfriend asked me “how did you end up with that guy?” and on one hand I’m shaking my head saying “I don’t have a clue” and on the other hand I’m surrounded by the Jerry McGuire moments that made me love this man. Our home is full of the trinkets that built our life. The hurricane glass from the dinner we had at the spinning restaurant for our honey moon on the River Walk, the bear he bought when I was in the hospital, struggling to have our first son, the red vase I had to have at an over-priced garage sale, the antique coke machine he snuck in one Christmas to surprise me, these are the reminders of the moments when I knew his heart was beating for me.
They distract me from the other memories, the time I caught him in a bar with his hands buried in some girl’s hair, telling her how beautiful she was. Or the time he decided to test his love for me. I could go on, but what’s the point?
There’s this wonderful man who hides inside of him, who loves me intensely, who takes care of our family, who helps everyone in need, but I just wish I saw him more instead of this Jackass who dared to walk into a house, after a carefree weekend, and say “what’d you do all day?” As if I’ve accomplished nothing, when I’ve spent all my accomplishments right here making his house the best home I can offer, and again, I find myself missing the man who says “if I were there, I’d roll up my sleeves and give you a hand!”
What’s a girl to do? I’m tired of scrubbing vomit alone, and not even a thank you when he comes home!