Now, now....before y'all start making fun of us rednecks freaking the hell out over an inch of snow that we got - shut up! Seriously. We will always freak out over snow. Just like you Northerners freak out when it's above 80 degrees.....try 114, hosers. :P
Anywho - back to me.
I died and went to heaven for about two hours today.
Maple, surprisingly, loved it!
She's scared of everything, so I was pleased.
It was the first snow for both of my fur babies.
This morning I was on the front balcony.
The ice was amazing.
Piling up! lol
Maple had a ball.
Her favorite is eating the snow.
Wee paw prints!
Heading out to the grass!
It got a LOT more snow than this.
My Valentine's Day decor was beautiful!
Can you tell I was a little excited?
In and out.
In and out.
One set is my hubbies, though.
I could've stood out there all day!
I built a snow man.
His name was Herb.
Later, my wee neighbor Katryna found the remnants of Herb and threw the head
I feel like an official Empty Nester. I have one in college and my baby is in England.
She's been with her boyfriend for three years now and he's as sweet as can be. A mature, caring, funny, responsible red headed boy. We just love him.
He's from a small village in England.
He's visited us several times and we've loved having him. Long distance relationships are hard, one this long distance has been a struggle for these two kids. He was determined to take my baby with him for a visit to show her his home. We agreed she could go, she's 18 after all. But that didn't soften the blow to my Mommie Bone in the least.
I plan to home school her via Skype and we plan to dismiss the 6 hour time difference and talk to each other as much as we can, day or night.
He came in last Friday and they both left yesterday morning. I held it together as long as I could. Then, all bets were off. I lost it.
They were so excited to see each other when
he got in!
That look on my kid's face - pure happyfeels.
I put together a Valentine's Day picnic at the
lake for them.
I also bribed them into a mini photo shoot. lol
They're so cute.
She made a cake for the occasion.
Quite the inventive baker!
These two are my favs.
Last breakfast at home that I prepared.
And like that....they were gone.
I stood there as long as I could.
Wiping tears and snot from my face.
Tippy toe standing and head bobbing
to watch that little green head for as long
as I possibly could.
The last I saw was them walking on the tarmac.
She turned her head slightly to look at her boyfriend and
she was smiling.
That did this mama good.
Last selfie at the airport until I get
to hug her again.
And Mommie's Crazy Cry Face.
They had three flights, the last one being almost ten hours. The last flight, the longest flight, was delayed for more than three hours. Then when they landed, the TSA detained her and went through her luggage and questioned her to death. I was in constant contact with the boyfriend's mother until they were safely home and she was passed out asleep after literally almost 24 hours of travel.
I feel like I've lost some limbs with my babies not so much babies anymore.
It's no secret I don't get along with my exhusband's wife.
No secret at all.
Since we moved out of town three years ago, she made it her mission to keep her nose in my child's business while allowing my child's father to duck out of it all. She really made a mess of things.
We stopped speaking a while back. I had to block her email addresses. I've blocked her phone number. My daughter had to block her on Facebook, but not after she sent her an email airing her side of things to clear the air in her own voice, as I allowed it....finally.
Finally thinking, "I'm done with her" and coming to terms with the fact that my children's father chose one child over the other and there's not one thing I can do about it, we moved on. I'm here to talk to my daughter whenever the mood hits about her father. I'm here to help her start to heal.
Then I get this in my mailbox.
While stalking me online, for whatever purpose you feel you have to do this, please be conscious of the fact that NO, I do not want to be your LinkedIn connection. I will not confirm that I know you. While you've managed to snow everyone you know in your life that you are a prayer warrior sweet girl, I know the real you and I have not one ounce of fuck to give you.
So, now I had to block her on LinkedIn. I guess I'm lucky my stalker is dumb enough to connection request me so at least I know I'm being stalked?
If you'd like to be up to date on why she's such a moron, go HERE.
In my mind, I'm still that 17 year old bratty, big haired, limber, silly girl without a clue and a ton of energy.
In my mind and in reality, two different things.
In reality I'm 44. I am sore on a daily basis. I am crotchety. I moan and groan and complain. I have shingles and fibro and RA and migraines. I move at a snails pace.
Aging isn't cool. So, I keep my hair purple. I have tattoos, with no end in sight. I gauge my ears and have as many piercings as I have fingers. I've let loose. I've allowed myself to.
Youth is wasted on the young, I'm a very firm believer. Now that I'm older, I know more, I have more experience. In everything. I don't apologize for judging. I judge because I'm human. I speak. I speak loud, often and back. I make myself heard. I allow myself to be heard. I demand to be heard.
All things that I was told not to do as a child and young adult, I allow myself because I learned to love myself and taught myself that I matter.
My one hope is that who I am now is who my children are earlier. It's working. For the most part, they are both light years from where I was at each of their ages. So, I've done something right.
In closing, because my body can't sit at a desk chair for longer than a few moments before it starts to scream in agony, LIVE out loud. Don't apologize. And, most importantly, be good to your young body. I never thought I'd live this long.
Do not come to my house and expect to watch foozball.
In my opinion it's stupid.
Overpaid dudes running around in tight, shiny pants after a ball from one end of a square field to another. They do drugs. They beat their wives. They retire and own pizza joints and do insurance commercials and get fat and happy and live high off the hog that fed them.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
For what they get paid for one game, ugh. I have so many evens that I just can't.
My husband isn't allowed to watch foozball downstairs. He goes upstairs, with his head hanging in shame while announcing he's going upstairs to the bedroom to watch it. Like a good boy.
People whine, "It's just a game!" That's right. It is just a game. A stupid game that SO MUCH MONEY is wasted on!
With the StupidBowl coming up, I am on edge this time of year. I flip the channel at any mention. Well, except for the announcement at the half time show. That, I am usually a tad bit interested in. But, even that I don't watch on game day.